I can’t now recall whether I’d ever even heard of Appenzell before I moved to Switzerland though it’s renowned within the country for all things pastoral — its beer and cheese for instance, and its velvetty, undulating topography. And then there are the countless ancient rustic Swiss traditions — like making it impossible for visitors to park a car for more than 15 minutes in one place. I was here just two weeks ago with M, when the hills, and the famous appeal of the region, were hidden by a thick curtain of rain and fog, and the highlight of our afternoon was a visit to the supermarket — its car park had proved irresistible. Now, in the sunshine, this … …
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#flickr_badge_source_txt {padding:0; font: 11px Arial, Helvetica, Sans serif; color:#666666;} #flickr_badge_icon {display:block !important; margin:0 !important; border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0) !important;} #flickr_icon_td {padding:0 5px 0 0 !important;} .flickr_badge_image {text-align:center !important;} .flickr_badge_image img {border: 1px solid black !important;} #flickr_www {display:block; text-align:left; padding:0 10px 0 10px !important; font: 11px Arial, Helvetica, Sans serif !important; color:#3993ff !important;} #flickr_badge_uber_wrapper a:hover, #flickr_badge_uber_wrapper a:link, #flickr_badge_uber_wrapper a:active, #flickr_badge_uber_wrapper a:visited {text-decoration:none !important; background:inherit !important;color:#3993ff;} #flickr_badge_wrapper {background-color:#CC66FF;border: solid 1px #000000} #flickr_badge_source {padding:0 !important; font: 11px Arial, Helvetica, Sans serif !important; color:#666666 !important;} www.flickr.com runningcommentary.net’s Alpine Panorama Walk – Stage 1 – Rorschach to Trogen photoset The plan was to leave Horgen by 08:00. Waking at 6, this should have been a comfortable target, but of course … …
Something’s afoot. Me. For 3½ weeks I’ve been eschewing alcohol and chewing vegetables instead. Leafing through my vegetarian cookbook a month ago, I realised that my quarterly campaign to make a public fool of myself was long overdue. Or was I just sensibly easing my way to twice-yearly shame, on the way to a more rational annual humiliation? This time at least, I was able to negotiate a one-month news embargo. I should have done this before. When purchasing previous metamorphoses, there should have been a nasal voice at my shoulder asking: “And would you like to include dignity protection with your transmutation, Sir?” I didn’t quite make it to the month because I want to write something about a … …
What’s this? I’m back in London, at the Hole in the Wall pub, near Waterloo Station, surrounded by work colleagues, warning me that something odd has happened to the boss in my absence. And next morning, at the wine shop, the aristocratic Charles greets me wearing a red velvet dress, high heels and a curly blonde wig. Part of a procession of brief inexplicable episodes. It was the one with the bottle-throwing folk singers chasing me through deserted Tube tunnels that finally woke me. I was relieved to open my eyes and totter downstairs into the wintry Swiss sunlight. Truly relieved. A weekend lie-in is fertile ground for dreams, but I rarely treat myself to one these days — and … …
End of a difficult Week 7/60. The bad news is that my nutritional discipline melted, just like the cheese on Wednesday’s double portion of lasagne. For the first time in six weeks, my mornings have begun with overflowing bowls of muesli, bran, banana, nuts and dried fruit. Not exactly unhealthy, and I’m still resisting lactose, moistening the mix with a splash of soya milk and a spoonful or two of yoghurt-like…. quark… thing. But a bellyful of fibre isn’t the ideal starting handle. It sets a tone for the day. It’s an ultimatum; a note shoved across the counter — Gimme more of this carby stuff, or else... The other bit of bad news, not unrelated, is … …
Week 6/60, and an accidental stumble on this straight and narrow path. I treat myself, if that’s the right phrase, to a sort of unhealthy meal. Egliknusperli with rice and roasted peppers is not exactly deep-fried Mars Bars with maple syrup, but there is some deep fat frying in there somewhere. Egli is perch, from Lake Zurich. I knew that much. When we go for lunch down at the Marina, I feel obliged to eat the local residents, but I was too stupid to remember that knusperli means ‘crunchy’. So it’s battered fish, and yes, deep fried. And with glossy white rice. But those roasted peppers and green salad clawed back a small brownie point or two. Not that … …
(Note – This is a rough-and-ready video that needs editing and polishing. Just wanted to get something up to avoid delay.) Snow! An exhilarating wintry plod today, through the densely wooded hinterland of Horgen, brings a fine end to Week 5/60. Covering nearly 13 kilometres this afternoon sounds impressive by my standards, but it did take 1 hour 45 minutes. The terrain was anything but fast however, and my time included a fair amount of snow-yomping and scrabbling through pathless forest, not to mention standing to gawp at the scenery (15 minutes according to the Garmin). Also, most of the second half was through the local woods, whose paths and steps and narrow bridges and tree roots are treacherous … …
Idly tickling the iPad during a break at TEDxZurich this morning, I checked the Berlin Marathon website. Fans of big city marathons feel obliged to keep this one bookmarked — just in case. Christ on a cracker! Entry for the September 2013 race opens today, at 12 noon. Only 60 Euros for the first 10,000 entrants. I tried to lose this information behind the complexity of the morning’s presentations. But no amount of futuristic urban planning and intravenous nanorobot chat could scrape the knowledge from my cranial walls. This marathon gets more popular every year. Last year, it had sold out by the New Year. Sigh. Ah, go on then. So at 12 noon I registered. Glad I did. Within … …
A quick update, as interesting things are afoot. Week 5/60 begins well, with the scales registering a 12.8 lb loss over the 4 weeks. There was a brief exchange on the forum today about how easy, or otherwise, it is to lose weight. For me, it is quite easy. I know the formula. But it helps that I live on my own most of the time. This allows me to obsess without reproach, temptation or guilt. And obsession (sometimes generously called ‘determination’ by others) is what it requires. In other news… three days into what I am telling myself is a 24-week marathon training plan, I can report two early morning plods along the lake — around 5 km each. … …
Just now and then, something major comes along. An FA Cup final ticket, a new computer, the amputation of a limb, a wife, that sort of thing. I have a feeling in my lower back that Chi Running might be the latest big thing. Lower back? I’m leaving the sensation there rather than transferring to the more conventional gut because I already have a resident back ache from this morning’s practical introduction to the art, and I won’t get away with two corporeal twinges in one post. Anyway, saving energy by exploiting what’s already there is a fundamental principle of Chi Running. But first… Week 4/60 comes to an end with more steady progress to report. Weight loss is still … …