14 miles today, on a dismal, rain-swept afternoon. To add an extra layer of featurelessness, I chose to do 4 laps of my usual round-the-block-route. The prospect was so uninviting that I did a rare thing — took a radio with me. Here are some words I never thought I’d hear myself say: Thank god for TalkSport. This radio station annoys the hell out of me, but today they just about kept me sane. It was the only talkie station I could get reasonable reception on, so I spent my 2½ hours keeping up-to-date with the FA Cup 3rd Round, and the 3-0 defeat of my team. In an uncertain world, it’s good to know that there are some … …
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It’s a long time since I’ve thought of UK politics as primarily a legislative lever for social change. Since ‘studying’ it at university, 25 years ago, I’ve learnt to regard it first and foremost as a spectator sport. Most of the players themselves would have it no other way. I put “studying” in quotes because it wasn’t easy to find the time to attend lectures and tutorials. I learnt what I needed to know about politics and the art of political manipulation not in the lecture theatres, but during a 4 day period in my first year, when I took part in an occupation of the admin block, part of a protest about…. what was it? Overseas students being charged … …
2005 ended with a 12½ mile bang, closely followed by the cork popping on a bottle of Sainsbury’s Vintage Champagne. It was intended to be a toast to usher in a new year of glowing good health, even if yes, there’s something mildly ironic about celebrating abstemiousness by glugging a bottle of bubbly. And true enough, the gesture came back to bite me on the arse yesterday, when my visit to Loftus Road was enhanced, or otherwise, by visiting a few of the local inns to check that all was in order. Everything was, apart from me. It was my first visit to Mecca for some weeks, thanks to Sky TV. It’s hard to get down there in midweek, but … …
New Year’s Day tomorrow, when a million new runners will be born. Like frog spawn, most won’t survive into February’s tadpole stage, and fewer still will ever know what is to leap between April’s muddy puddles, with the promise of summer to reward their persistence. Runners who fall by the wayside before the end of January will moan about the pain, the hassle, the weather, the effort it takes, the lack of an instant reward and the hurdle of motivation. What they won’t know is that even seasoned runners grumble at pretty much the same things. The difference is that we’ve stuck around long enough to recognise the concomitant benefits, which are barely visible to the newbie plodder. Running is … …
There’s a nasty bite to the weather as end of the year approaches, but even the wind and rain couldn’t hold me back this afternoon. It’s one of the great benefits of working close to home. An early lunch break, nip home, get changed and out for a 3½ mile dash round the block. Back home, quick shower, and back at my desk barely an hour after leaving it, glowing like a beacon and vibrating with feelings of “wellness”, as we have to say now. Some of my good work was undone by the generosity of my boss, who’d ordered a stack of pizzas while I was out. Managed to limit myself to 3 spicy hot monster triangles. Man, they … …
A frost so severe this morning that just stepping through the back door was to feel your dangly bits withering and dying on the vine. Standing there, quivering, in my leggings and three T-shirts, apprehensive sweat freezing on my temples, the temptation was to give up. But I need stuff to write about, and if I don’t run then this blog is buggered. That’s about as basic as I can get. My car is full of apple trees and bird tables at the moment. The branches of the Russet are so profuse and intrusive that driving is like…. like driving a car while climbing a tree. It’s fantastic. The 25 minute journey made a stab at warming me up, but … …
I’ve lost my life. The implications cut deep. Even now, 24 hours later, I’m still being pulled around, dodging avalanches of warm despair over there, trying to stay beneath the waterfalls of ice-cold relief over here. Acceptance is gradual, but I’m nearly there. Getting through the shock phase now. It helps to be a positive thinker. Where did this character trait come from? Somewhere in my twenties, but I can’t be more specific. Perhaps it was the travelling; perhaps it was the drugs. Perhaps it was the women or the music or the jobs, or that book on Buddhism I read at university. Somewhere along that roller coaster, the big truth emerged – that nothing much matters. Nothing much really… …
Arrived at my hotel at 6pm, to find no non-smoking rooms left. Threw a few toys out of the pram — didn’t like them much anyway — and cancelled the reservation. Returned to the street with my bags. Took a look around. Slightly daunting. Dusseldorf is cold today. Surrounded by office blocks blazing in the darkness, but little else. Was I making a mistake? Wandered round the corner, full of loathing for modern life. Then a Novotel bumped into me. Get in! Life was good again. I’ve felt unhealthy and bloated today; not the ideal way to start another marathon training campaign. The few glasses of wine I imbibed last night are annoying me. Well hang on, it’s hardly their … …
Hello, I use agency of acquaintances. It gave to me your email address in agency of acquaintances. I would like to find out you better. Write to me a little about itself. I shall answer for I the lonely girl. To me of 28 years. And I have no children. I with impatience shall wait for the letter of you. I’ve been getting a lot of this kind of stuff recently. Web translation utilities clearly aren’t quite there yet. … …
Eight satisfying miles along the canal late this afternoon, starting in sunshine, through twilight, ending in darkness. I’ve been a bit concerned about not doing the distances recently, so was determined to get this one under my belt. I managed it by reminding myself what these weekenders are supposed to be about — long, slow distance, or LSD. They cultivate endurance. I’m a slow runner, and today I became slower. I decided to limit myself to steady trotting. Burn a thousand calories or so, and keep moving for 8 miles. That’s how it went. It was a fascinating melange of running environments. Through the village in fading, but almost warm, sunshine. A lot of Christmas-giddy kids about, jabbering in cartoon-speak … …