2008 - April

[Nigel]

Ah, the usual 3.5 miler, SW. I know what you mean. One of the joys of changing my job last year was the opportunity to run in the Himalayan confines of Epsom, whence the Chalk hills rise with unforgiving alacrity.

It took me four months of miserable lunchtimes to grovel my way unbroken to the summits, without oxygen, but now I manage that feat a couple of times a week.

Hills. I hate 'em. But a change of scenery has proved really useful as an incentive to push the limits.

Meanwhile, here's one for Andy. Spied on a recent run, not far from the unforgiving North Downs peaks, the last resting place of one of QPR's former managers. More successful as coach at Blackburn, to be fair, and struck down by lung cancer in his late 50s.

I'm not sure why Harford was buried in Epsom, just a few hundred metres from the race course. Maybe he was a betting man?

Anyway, a salutary tale serving to remind me to kick my heels towards the lofty pinnacles once more. Er, which lofty pinnacles, exactly? None were in sight up the final slog, but a hazy view of the Gherkin from the col was more than worth the struggle. And if you look closely, you can pick out St Paul's as well.