I may well have rested on my laurels for rather too long.
Waistline timber added over Christmas and during our New Years visit to Florida has cruelly accrued. Having taken a staggering eleven minutes longer (than last year) to lumber around a much easier Medio Maraton course on Sunday there's no doubt 'little and often' will have to apply to my eating and running habits this month.
This morning I opened my February account with a cheeky 5k loop via the foot of Mount Harry. The downs were shrouded in mist, shadowy bushes lurking in the gloom. My legs, battered after their Almerian thrashing, embraced the yielding Sussex mud. Tight hamstrings and sore shins laboured up tricky, slippery slopes, general decrepitude aided and abetted by a criminal lack of training. Reflecting on the weekend I can honestly say that raceday performance aside it ranks up there with the best of them. Goodness knows when I'll get a report written, never mind published. Needs must when the Devil drives; the old bastard has his pedal to the metal just now and no mistake.
Like me, Willow, my trusty black cocker spaniel, has loaded some lard in recent weeks. She struggled to keep up, grateful of the rest as I surveyed the foggy landscape before turning for home. A gang of raucous rooks strutted at the top of Lansport Bottom, screeching a harsh critique of my laboured running style. I gave them a good-natured two-finger salute as gravity drew me slowly home.
Leaning up against our garden fence I watched as sweat fell past my burgeoning midriff to splash across my muddy boots. So much to do, so little time ...
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
'Little and often' is sound advice Sweder. Bag some steady base miles in Feb/March and you'll be smiling come Spring; ready for more challenging events. Keep going sir.
Nice contrast in conditions - sun and dust on Monday, fog and mud on Tuesday.
I second GM: the regular morning / evening hillside scampers are probably better for you than the weekly slogs - but you miss the social side of course. Keep ticking over and you'll be ready to start a serious training programme for PtP come summer.
Thanks chaps, good advice that I intend to take on board.
I have the small matter of the Steyning Stinger in early March. Only a half, but a beast of a half to be sure.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
You already have the fitness to get round the half at the Steyning Stinger, and in a months time with some consistant training behind you, you will be probably be much faster especially over that tough terrain.
In my opinion you just need to be patient and build it up slowly in order to keep running injury free. Listen to your body - if it says it needs a rest have a rest. This is what I try to do now that I am no spring chicken!!
Looking forward to meeting up with you for some Downland runs (or run/walks). In no time you will be right on my shoulder and pushing the pace along.
A cluster of short-ish outings this week, the best/ worst of which occurred on Saturday. A modest 8k plod ended up feeling like a brutal, hilly half marathon such was the ferocity of the wind. It was all I could do to stay upright on the rain-slicked mud. Tears torn from my eyes streamed off my flayed cheeks as I re-enacted the old Maxell cassette tapes ad. Instead of A Night On Bare Mountain my soundtrack was an apocalyptic rush, like a hundred tube trains roaring by all at once. I expected to be crushed under an uprooted tree or have a large farm vehicle drop on my head at any moment. As long as there was a chance Helen Hunt might be in the vicinity I really didn't mind. Willow, shorter of leg and furrier of coat, hugged the ground, apparently oblivious to the impending End of All Living Things. It must be nice to be a dog.
Yesterday I joined Ladyrunner for a somewhat calmer saunter through Stanmer Park. The Leggy One set a gruelling pace up a series of difficult climbs, though mercifully the dense woodland offered shelter from the relentless blast. The same could not be said for my golf match that afternoon. Playing round one of the MGS Winter Fourballs on top of the Lewes cliffs I spent four hours trying to remain vertical whilst attempting to swat an oscillating ball no larger than an egg using implements ill-designed for the purpose. There's something rather disconcerting, having smitten the blasted thing with all one's might, in seeing the little white pill get larger as it's hurled back towards you out of the racing thunderheads. More short stuff planned for this week with some rock-hammered spin at Bridge's House of Fun thrown in for good measure. A rare bleep in this O2 wilderness has just informed me that starts tonight. Oh joy.
I was saddened to learn yesterday of the death of Gary Moore.
Like many I enjoyed his work with Thin Lizzy but it was as a Man of the Blues that Moore truly excelled, gifted the ability to rend shivers and chills with a wave of his majestic Gibson Les Paul. How good was he? This good:
Treat yourself and watch it through to the end.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
(07-02-2011, 06:24 PM)Mid Life Crisis Man Wrote: So sad he died too young. I only have two Gary Moore albums but without a doubt this one is a gem.
Planet Rock replayed his hour-long 'My Planet Rocks' interview in which he cites Eric Clapton, John Mayall & Jimi Hendricks as early influences. He'd just completed BB King's Farewell to the UK tour and was at the very top of his game. A truly humble man who refused to pick any of his own songs so the interviewer had to pick some for him.
Changing tack about 180 degrees I just finished a 45 minute non-stop Tarantino Soundtrack Spin Special at Bridge's House of Fun. This track by Tino and the Tarantulas (from Dusk Till Dawn) was the pick of the bunch. Most of it was spent up out of the saddle including the denouement, completed in time with the music. The last minute or so was almost spiritual.
This was followed, without a break, by Miserlou (opener from Pulp Fiction) before a warm-down to 110th Street and Didn't I Love You Baby from the excellent Jackie Brown.
I'm about ready to revisit my Gary Moore collection, just as soon as I get my legs back.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
(07-02-2011, 06:24 PM)Mid Life Crisis Man Wrote: So sad he died too young. I only have two Gary Moore albums but without a doubt this one is a gem.
Listened to Still Got The Blues on Spotify last night, on your joint recommendation. One of those "where has this album been all my life?" moments. Thanks guys.
(07-02-2011, 09:12 PM)Sweder Wrote: Changing tack about 180 degrees I just finished a 45 minute non-stop Tarantino Soundtrack Spin Special at Bridge's House of Fun. This track by Tino and the Tarantulas (from Dusk Till Dawn) was the pick of the bunch. Most of it was spent up out of the saddle including the denouement, completed in time with the music. The last minute or so was almost spiritual.
You seem to have a really good cross-training thang going there. If it's working on both body and soul, it's on the same plane as running.
This weekend's efforts deserve the briefest of mentions in the smallest available print.
Saturday saw a dreadful trudge on tired, listless legs. Any hint of energy leaked out of me in the first hundred metres, seeping into the heavy soil. Feeling undeniably heavy, old, and in need of a damned good kip I thought about cutting the planned 5 miles down to 5k but such was my self-loathing I soldiered on, forcing myself to complete the full circuit in spite of a raft of complaints from various unhappy ligaments and pissed-off joints.
Sunday was little better, the elements adding to my woes by delivering cold, wind, rain and more sticky mud. I'm turning to spin for inspiration tonight, inviting MrsH20 to join me for a Valentine's Special at Bridge's. My sweat, whilst not perhaps entirely honest, will be plentiful.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
(14-02-2011, 05:29 PM)Sweder Wrote: inviting MrsH20 to join me for a Valentine's Special at Bridge's. My sweat, whilst not perhaps entirely honest, will be plentiful.
.... This sounds like a romantic gesture ... NOT!! Did she accept .... or slap you??
(15-02-2011, 12:29 PM)ladyrunner Wrote: .... This sounds like a romantic gesture ... NOT!! Did she accept .... or slap you??
She accepted, and did really well. I'm not sure it was all she'd hoped for, but it was better than a cheap card with the pricetag left on and 'all the best' written inside. (actual faux pas made by Andrew Cotter, BBC rugby & golf commentator).
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
(15-02-2011, 12:29 PM)ladyrunner Wrote: .... This sounds like a romantic gesture ... NOT!! Did she accept .... or slap you??
She accepted, and did really well. I'm not sure it was all she'd hoped for, but it was better than a cheap card with the pricetag left on and 'all the best' written inside. (actual faux pas made by Andrew Cotter, BBC rugby & golf commentator).
A bloke at work this year went to a lot of trouble finding just the "right" card for his missus for Valentines. He was pretty chuffed with his selection and therefore astonished when she looked disappointed upon its presentation. Muttering something about how he "must buy his cards in bulk" she disappeared into the bedroom only to re-emerge with the previous year's card - it was identical! Worse, he had written exactly the same words inside.
He managed to talk himself out of any serious trouble, but I gather it cost him a small fortune in the form of a conciliatory meal out somewhere spesh.
We have a house guest this weekend, a large hairy beast who won't leave our cocker bitch alone and eats like Slobba the Hut.
No, not SP but a close relative; his enormous Alsatian, Diesel.
In fairness Diesel is a lovely dog. Huge undeniably, but no less loving and cuddly for that. He spent a good deal of last night with me on the sofa. Actually, he spent last night on me on the sofa, spreading joy and loveliness with every slurp of his monstrous tongue. Shame he can't stay longer; I'd save a fortune in heating.
Despite a bone-chilling wind and an ugly grey sky I invited both dogs for a leisurely lope across the hills. Another week has passed without a run, although I did manage to scrape myself along to Bridge's House of Spin twice. Thursday's session was a killer. The Evil Bridge dismounted mid-session to saunter amongst the assembled peddlers, cranking up the resistance on each bike as a non-stop techno soundtrack drove our frenzied legs.
'Come on Ash, you gotta work for it!' Craaank.
Christ! It was like cycling through quick-setting cement. I hammered through it, quads screaming, hamstrings ready to pop. By the end of 45 uninterrupted minutes a small yet satisfying pool of perspiration spread from under my bike. Bridge has a point; if it's not hurting it probably isn't working. There'll be more this week.
This morning I wrapped myself in a London Marathon reject windcheater, as much to ensure an equally high degree of sweat as to shut out those icy February fingers. The start proved challenging, slick mud offering wheel-spin for the first half-mile or so as I set off into a cruel headwind. Diesel romped easily along the trail. He's fit as a fiddle this dog, and despite looking like a Hellhound - massive head, thick shaggy coat, powerful shoulders - is a most genial and obedient companion. He roamed easily amongst the downland shrubs, chasing Willow and greeting wide-eyed walkers with a big grin and a wagging tail. When he had occasion to sprint his body flattened out, shining mane streaming behind his pinned-back ears as he easily ate up the sticky ground.
I strapped on Planet Rock for entertainment and distraction. The opening track was as much admonishment as encouragement. Robert Plant berated me for my recent absence.
'It's been a long time, been a long time ...'
Yeah, OK Robert, I get it mate. Sheesh.
My track du jour came courtesy of the ever-impressive Muse. Knights of Cydonia is already on my long run playlist. Today they served up Starlight, an engaging track from the excellent Black Holes & Revelations. I actually managed to open up a bit on the homeward leg, Friday night's beer & curry excesses leaking freely into my running garb. By the time I reached home it looked like I'd run through a car wash.
Below: My mate Diesel & me, catching some zeds after our run.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
Not much to report aside from some excellent spin sessions at Bridge's House of Spin and a couple of local outings, the last of which on Wednesday proved to be a bit of a humdinger.
A cruel wind whipped in from the south east, driving a wall of mizzle across heavily sweating mud-caked hills. Despite sliding about like Bambi on ice for the first hundred metres I could feel energy and confidence seeping into my legs for the first time in a long while. I reached Black Cap in under twenty-five minutes, a useful landmark for measuring my fitness, or lack of it. The return leg, into a relentless headwind, felt easy. I even managed some high-speed Fred Astaire moves over the last few yards of treacherous slurry.
Musically Planet Rock served up an eclectic mix, the highlight being Bob Dylan's Twist of Fate. It was my first exposure to the track in a while and like much of Dylan's recent output I found myself really enjoying it. Damn.
And speaking of Bambi ... some of you may know I've been trying to adopt a brace of lurcher pups from the RSPCA. These delightful critters were destined to drown in an Irish river until a remarkable man, acting alone on information received, persuaded the traumatised owner to hand them and their four doomed siblings over. I negotiated the RSPCA fit and proper persons test in record time in an effort to secure them before someone else snapped them up. After a series of home visits and introductions (to Willow, Phoebe and a distinctly circumspect Mrs S) Murphy and Ripley have formerly joined our hitherto happy home.
They are, it turns out, hooligans. Rapacious, shameless, equipped with razor-sharp teeth, no fear and boundless enthusiasm these furry velociraptors have exploded into our lives. Quite literally following their discovery and demolition of a large sack of RSPB birdfeed stashed 'safely' behind the washing machine. The resulting pebble-dashing of our (mercifully) tiled kitchen/ dining area did not go down well with the Powers That Be.
It would be fair to say I'm in the dog house, yet I freely admit to being deliriously happy. They are magical and, judging by their early attempts around our 'secure' rear garden, extremely quick.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
A bit of a stodgy Black cap run today, heavy, breathless and altogether far too difficult for my liking. managed to dodge the raindrops which was a bonus.
My lack of performance may well be down to lack of sleep. Our new arrivals are proving as entertaining- and challenging - as we expected. Happily they've settled well at Sweder Towers as the following footage shows:
I can't wait for the day I can take these two out for a good blast on the downs.
The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph
![[Image: Stillgottheblues.jpg]](http://www.sandarac.com.au/misc/Stillgottheblues.jpg)
![[Image: mba0012l.jpg]](http://www.cartoonstock.com/lowres/mba0012l.jpg)