December 2015

[Sweder]

And so the year staggers to an end. A veritable annus horribilus in running terms, a triumph in so many other ways. I accept that running is taking a less prominent place in my life just now. It remains a constant, albeit in the background.

One welcome development is the formation of the Twittens Runners. Duncan inspired this on the back of his experiences with the Herd. This morning I joined OATR and a newbie (to this ritual), David Smyth, a marathon runner who'd seen news of the Twittens on ... Twitter. Sundays at 09:00 is becoming a Thing. It's currently, for me at least, an eye-popping, lung-bursting thing, but I'm sticking with it. It's a Lewesian Parkrun. 12 uphill sprints (with walk/ jog connections and downward returns) through the severely sloped, cobbled backstreets, followed by coffee and sweaty banter in the Coffee Shop in Lansdown Place. 

This morning's topic was the demise of Man United under LvG. SAF did such a fine job undermining his successors that his record looks better by the day, even if his legacy looks increasingly like a curse. Decades in the doldrums await, a tragedy of Liverpudlian proportions, unless the club embraces revolution. United nestle  in the top four, a few points off top spot. Crisis, what crisis? The dull, attritional football on offer is unacceptable. I'd rather see them mid-table playing a risky, swash-buckling style. But mid-table butters no European parsnips, so football by numbers remains the likely grind. Yaaaaawn.

Things are equally gloomy on the local scene, with Lewes FC rooted firmly at the foot of the Ryman Premier table. Yesterday offered a rare moment of joy for the suffering faithful, a 94th minute equaliser to rescue a point. The only way is up, baby. Let's hope 2016 offers better fayre on the running and football fronts.