Autumnal

Good morning folks

I hope you are in fine fettle.
A month after my departure from the “socials”, I do sometimes feel as if I am living on the moon.
Plus points: Way more time, less distraction.
Minus points: I miss videos of overexcited dogs smashing up houses, on Instagram.

Autumn, I will be honest, is not my favourite time of year.
“I love the changing colours of autumn” said no colourblind person, ever!
In addition, it is merely a prelude to the inevitable winter, a season I just cannot wait to get through!

Summer was absolutely ace though, so I cannot grumble too much.

A busy old month, summarised concisely below…

(We had a house inspection and had this visitor pop in 2 days before. I rebelive in Father Christmas if this fat fecker can squeeze down a chimney! Took some catching and cleaning up).

Grisedale Horseshoe

Last year, on the hottest day of the year, I ran probably my best race in recent years (until I went wrong and got lost after the final checkpoint, but we will gloss over that minor detail). I ran a pitched battle against a mate from Bingley Harriers, who I can just about beat if I am running at my best. As it happens, he went the right way and I ended up lost in head high bracken.

Fast forward to this year, the conditions were very different.
Windy, claggy and cold. Proper Lakes weather.
I wasn’t racing as I was running as Tail-end Charlie Sweeper.
A much smaller field and a much faster pace, even at the back.
(The back runners ran the first “segment” faster than I raced it last year so Strava told me, on what was to be my last outing on the app).

As sweeper I had to collect all the checkpoint “dibbers”, a device which has all the unfolding race information. Runners “dib” at each checkpoint, which shows their progress and finishing times, the dibbers are basically converted smartphones, which I had to guard with my life until eventually all 6 devices were collected as they bounced and jostled about in my bumbag to the finish.

(Back in the day, race organisers used bread tags with the runner’s number on, which were kept on a huge safety pin clipped to your shorts, and then at each checkpoint you would frisbee your tag at some poor marshall who would then thread the tags onto a long piece of metal cable, thereby determining the order of each runner at each part of the race. Simpler but more complicated/laborious times!)

I made friends with a cool lass from Wigan, who was coincidentally coached by a friend of mine. So for a very short period in the middle of the race, we had a mini party on the fells, before the roller coaster ride up and down St. Sunday Crag and the up and down of thecruel last climb of the race and a sumptious buffet at the end!

A top day out organised by the fine folk at Achille Ratti CC.

Crocked-ish?

At the back end of a competitive season which seemed to evaporate the minute I crossed the line of the Lakeland 50, I currently find myself in that land that no runner wants to be in, the land where one cannot run as they are injured!

I have been juggling a veritable banquet of niggles all season, but a new one came out of the blue and slammed the brakes on training.
I am grateful for the fact that I have found a good Physio, who is guiding me back to the Promised Land! (Lee Mills Relays in 8 weeks, if everything goes to plan).

For now, it is time for as much S&C as I can physically manage and going into the Pain Cave, also known as my (recently cleared out) shed, on the road to nowhere on the Turbo Trainer.

Wish me luck!

Dw i’n dysgu Cymraeg!

After a brilliant mini break in Wales this summer, the frustration of only understanding 2 road signs (Araf & Allen) inspired me to jump on Duolingo to learn Welsh.

I have never used Duolingo before, it is a bit of fun. After a 14 day streak I grew a pair and tried it out on a real, live Welsh person, and realised that Duolingo positively flatters one’s progress. In addition, the free version does not include any speaking practice, so I am not sure I will ever get my tongue round the seemingly unpronouncable words in the Welsh lingo.

(i I am learning useful phrases like “I am not buying parsnips for Owen” and “I don’t like pineapple either!” I will surely go a long way. The Young One is learning Korean, which does make my Welsh look like a picnic!)

My head’s a shed!

Phase I complete!
Back in 2013, a rushed house move meant I needed some storage space.
So My Dad kindly let me put up a shed at his place. It arrived unassembled in 1,000,000 pieces and it took us both a full and frustrating weekend to put up.
Then, another rushed house move, a move to Peru, a move back to Blighty, and the consumerist trappings of Western internet/mail order shopping filled it to the roof. Then another rushed house move and another shed at the new gaff, meant that I then had double trouble.
Now, after 3 car boot sales, a full time job selling on ebay and numerous trips to the charity shop and tip, I have finally emptied one shed and half cleared out the other.

It has been a 100% ballache, but in a satisfying way, worthwhile.
Maybe now I will get some of my weekends back.

Quiet please!

In a moment of madness I have signed up for a 7 day Silent Meditation and yoga course, in May 2026.

I have tried meditation, with mixed results.
I have tried Yoga, with disastrous results, (Zeta the Yogi lost her sh!t with me and my Yoga fecklessness!)
I have tried silence, and failed.

So, after a week I should be a Zen Master, or I may be sent home in disgrace on day 1…

“Can’t you!”

Do you ever think that general manners are on the decline?
Without sounding like my role model, Victor Meldrew, I do wonder sometimes.

I drive for a job, so I do see the worst in people (and the worst in driving).
People are late, people are stressed, people are full of self entitlement.

Last week I was parked up in York. A guy behind me parked up and disappeared, leaving me about 1ft of space behind. No problem, I was parked on the limit of where people could park, before double yellow lines.
Then a lady parked in the entrance to a business marked “No parking”, blocking me in completely.

I thought she must just be dropping someone off, so I waited a moment. It became apparent that she wasn’t so I got out to ask if she could move forward a tiny bit to let me out.
Me: “Excuse me, please could you just move forward a bit? I can’t get out”
Her: “Can’t you!” (more of a statement than a question, and then closed her window)

As I was in the works vehicle (emblazoned with work logos) & my uniform (jacket and top, also emblazoned with work logos), I couldn’t really say what I was thinking, so I took a deep breath and did a 57-point turn to get out.

Next May can’t come quick enough!

Raiders round-up.

The end of the season saw the mighty Raiders finish in 9th spot and York Knights (boooo) finish top. However, logic does not apply in rugby league and it looks like London (who finished below Barrow) will get upped into the Superleague!

A strange tick box matrix of finances, ground capacity, performances, fanbase, by the RL is what dictates “who goes up”. It is not simply a matter of finishing top of the league and getting promoted.

Imagine if they messed around with football in the same way?!

RIP Jimmy

October the 2nd was a difficult day.
I said goodbye and paid my respects to an old mate of mine, James Spencer.
Jimmy and I worked together at Little Chef. My first “proper” job. Little Chef was a brilliant job. Overworked, underpaid, but with awesome people.
A year younger than me, Jimmy had a way of making every moment an absolute laugh. Only the most cold-hearted supervisors at work didn’t smile when he was on shift.
He introduced me to Leeds Moutaineering Club, where we would plan trips on Tuesday nights at the Adelphi and have some riotous climbing weekends away.
When I used to ring him for a chat, his Dad would shout “It’s your camping buddy!”
We both had a love for horseracing and drinking!
As members of York Racecourse, we would never miss a meeting. Full all-dayers back to back, crazy times. I would work long shifts at Argos, Sweater Shop, Next Warehouse, Texas Homecare, any shitty second Christmas job (remember Argos, pre-internet) to earn enough spare cash for a Cheltenham trip in March.
We were both as daft as brushes together and would spend hours reciting Alan Partridge and Vic & Bob.
I could fill an entire blog and more on the ridiculous scrapes and antics we got up to. Every single occasion and consequent memory was a brilliant one.

Unfortunately, during the pandemic we lost touch, I don’t know how.
Every time I went past Garforth, I used to think “I must get in touch with Spen”, but I never did, until it was too late…

I received a text from his Fiancee telling me the sad, sad and unexpected news that he had passed away. Although I had not seen James for a few years, he was the kind of mate you would just pick up where you had left.

The Crematorium was packed. A very sad day. A unique character. He had a gift, a way of making people around him laugh, smile and feel at ease.
He was the only mate I had who I could mix with other groups of mates, as it impossible not to like him. Gone far too soon.

RIP me old camping buddy.

And finally

Hasta la proxima amigos.
Johnny