The morning after the day before and I’m feeling strangely human. Surprisingly normal. Slightly woolly headed, but nothing severe. It seems to be mixing drinks that causes those next-day difficulties. Yesterday it was just beer-beer-beer, and this simple strategy has paid off. We arrived at Sweder’s around 10:30. Our first time in Lewes, but the trip down the A23 from the known world was pretty painless.… READ MORE.... …
Month: July 2007
I’m not going to dwell too long on my team-building experience, except to say that most of the bonding took place in the restaurant last night rather than over two days in the classroom. I call it a "classroom" but it was actually a function room at a golf club. I’m not a big golf fan, as people will know, but there was a point this morning when, staring through the window, I noticed a chap preparing to tee off.… READ MORE.... …
Dateline: Yesterday, A Sun-Flooded England. A sinewy, early-morning lope to report. Highly agreeable stuff. Four miles of sub-10:30 miles: decent for me at that time in the morning, when my calfs are cold and brittle, like a pack of bread sticks fresh from the freezer. I was in training for more than my marathon. A couple of hours later I would be somewhat gingerly climbing aboard the first day of one of these team-building thingummies at work.… READ MORE.... …
11.35 miles tucked away. Yes, you heard that right. The day started early. My body clock woke me at 5 a.m., anxious that I shouldn’t miss my folks, who were passing through at about 7, on their way to Fishguard and Ireland. I’d hoped to fly out for a couple of days myself, but it’s looking unlikely now. The old family house by the sea, mentioned a couple of times in these pages, is to be put up for sale.… READ MORE.... …
Hasn’t happened yet. The pub intervened. I was suckered into a very rare visit to that grotty boozer next door where they were hosting an outfit describing themselves as a “Jam tribute band”. Had to be worth investigating, and it was. I’ve got a soft spot for the Jam, even if I can’t get on with the solo Weller. I remember seeing them performing on a stage by the side of the road on some Anti-Nazi League march I went on in 1980.… READ MORE.... …
So what’s gone wrong? As usual, my stupidity has turned an enforced break into something much worse. Last weekend I was in Manchester, enjoying too much Champagne and Timothy Taylor’s Landlord, and barbecued animal. I returned without a weekend long run to log in my spreadsheet, and with extra corporeal ballast to lug around the mean streets of West Berkshire. That was bad enough, but worse was a painful toe that gave me the excuse I needed to take a few days off.… READ MORE.... …
Nine miles today. Sounds impressive, but it was a bad run. If it was a run at all. The brisk 6½ miles I did on Friday won’t have helped, but I suspect it was yesterday’s annual spousal duty (stop sniggering at the back) — a day trudging round the Hampton Court Flower Show — that played a bigger part in my lack of energy and poor performance today.… READ MORE.... …
And so, as the first week of fiftyhood hobbles to a close, it’s time to review how life has changed so far… I’ve not yet taken out my subscription to Saga Magazine, thank god. But two things happened this week that made me stop and think. The trouble is, they seem to be highlighting moves in opposite directions. The first came when I was running through Prospect Park on Wednesday.… READ MORE.... …
Has normal service been resumed? Hard to tell. It’s been an undulating week. Recovery from Saturday was scheduled for Sunday, but the fatigue bled into Monday and beyond. Yesterday I was up early to run a cautious and pensive four miles before breakfast. This evening was cool and drizzley. Ideal for a brisk five miles with the club. But I got to the appointed place, and…?… READ MORE.... …