[not] training

I finally got to see a locum about my foot, and as it happens she is also a runner. Cue sympathy for the, ahem, habit based nature of my affliction. I'm off for an Xray (what ever became of  The X-rays? Great gnarly garage punk band from the North) today and I have a phone number for a physiotherapist to call later this morning.

The Doc and I talked about all sorts of things, which was refreshing. I think she probably had few appointments booked for her evening surgeries. So not only did I walk away with my foot felt and some referral papers but careers advice, benefits opportunities, a potted history of a med students time in A+E and the practise of  'thinking outside the box' with regard to employment.

 Plenty of people my age (on the doorstep of the big four-oh) retrain and change their lives. Helene Diamantides springs to mind. If memory serves me right, didn't she re-train later in life and become a succesful physiotherapist? It's all stacked against me but that is nothing new...

Fun'ing [it's a bit like training but not quite]

So I  managed to get the big tires onto the bike for a ride over at Malvern last night. A couple of  nights before me and The KG had fixed up his front derailler, and got a little drunk on Aussie beer in the process, and he was keen to get out to see what would occur. It seems the benefits of shifting improves his riding experience no end. Who'd have thought it?

We parked below British Camp and set off in search of a mysterious gatehouse and a path that leads downhill to Gullet quarry. This becomes a bridleway and does in fact go downhill. After a few experimental leaps of navigation we found our selves riding through the woods on the west side of the hills above the deer park. We were probably riding where we shouldn't have. Nonetheless it was a decent run out with a few thrills and few spills.

At the top of Midsummer Hill we took a small  path down a pretty steep descent that was blocked halfway with a fallen tree. The KG had a moment where it looked as if his mid-nineties V brakes would kill him, on terrain that was nigh beyond dabbing, but he came out on the Castlemorton to Hereford road cut through like a young Steve Peat.

Well, nearly.

We stopped off at the quarry lake-side and cleaned the steeds, as they were gonna be squeezed back into the boot of his Ford, much to the amusement of some bar-b-cue-ing casuals. It was refreshing to wade into the man-made lake and clean off the clay. When my man used a clump of grass as an impromptu Squee-gee I knew we were on form and in Gear.

The ride back up to Clutters Cave and over the reservoir was punctuated with half a bar of work, rest and play for morale and a fast ride in the gathering dusk - beautiful scenery as the light tinged the vague haze with pink over the valley of the River Severn..

 "I love being on high ground in the evening, there is always such an air of peace about. The mornings can be special too, but then there is a more expectant air, a fragile stillness that is soon to dissolve into the bustle of a full day. The evening hills have the promise of a yet deeper peace."
Mike Cudahy - 'Wild Trails to Far Horizons', pg. 17. Italics mine.

it comes as no surprise to be taken by surprise!

flipside magazine Vol 1 Spring 2010

Who'd a thunk it? flipside returns from oblivion for another stab at oblivion. I was a bit too young to ride the boat that was but I remember getting the odd copy here and there - I especially remember the OPIV cover and interview. I don't have it to hand, having 'recycled' all my old MRRs and large mags (all sorts got the heave ho when I finally discovered that most newsagent magazines are a rip-off - climbing mags, High Mountain Trail, copies of the awful Trail magazine  - highly liberating!) but i'm sure it was a tour account. Also lots of chaotic gig photos which were always really inspiring to us trying to work out what hardcore punk had become by 1990.

No idea about the rest of the mag - all that tiny type face has blurred into one. Anyway I have yet to read the pdf above and have to what the heck is going on.

Still off running. Race is definately not a go for me at the weekend. Bummer but plans are afoot.

[not] training

Sheesh, life throws a curve ball, whatever a curve ball is, and what you consider to be normality is turned on its head.

Race plans might be disrupted - due to many different reasons, not least this right foot issue which is taking forever to right itself - but it might be right to do the sensible thing. The Magnificent Eastnor 7 is this coming Sunday - seven miles, undulating woodland course, hill at the end. I'm sure it'll be great but....

Still have a few days to think about it

curveball - it's a baseball term. What 's baseball then?

whiz - bang - whimper

Ok, finally managed to sort out a regular connection (no, not that kind of connection) and bring the old man's laptop into the 21st century, so I can get back to the same old same old.

Only three weeks to the Magnificent Eastnor 7 race and my sesamoid bones are gyppy. Today i'm going out for my first run for a week or so. Apparently the only real issue with sesamoid bone gyp is the chronic pain. For that the devil gave us anti inflammatory drugs, and I think I'm gonna pop and see the doc this week, see what he says. Other temporary solutions include sillicone pads, cutting up your footbed, alternative lacing techniques and strapping your toes together, RICE-ing, splicing and dicing, and hot and cold therapy.

I shall try all of that then.

Today - five miles of fartlek in a wood near Pershore. No heart rate monitor, no structure, just running around in the woods.Gotta ditch this chocolate waistband that an enforced lay off has sponsored.

meltdown!

Computer meltdown in the Irregulamania global domination warehouse - normal service will hopefully be resumed (or i'll be posting from the library!)

Thanks for checking this out, folks and keep up the hard training!

S - irregulamania