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
