Well, what are we going to talk about now, the sun's been shining all week but Covid 19 has put pay to all play. The government advice is pretty clear cut, no playing out until further notice, so I'm going to have to find something else to occupy my time and fill these pages. Your in luck though, I've always got something to rant about, so for a starters lets have a little chat about not being an idiot. For some strange reason (mainly because the HSE have said so) I'm still working and this week I've been doing some dull and boring stuff for one of the major supermarkets. Now they've done a superb job of enacting the government's restrictions, the floors are all marked out to show the 2m social distancing thing, they've got staff on the doors stopping too many people entering and ensuring people are on their own, they've got hand sanitiser at the door and their staff are taking a big personal risk to stay open and keep the county on it's feet. So what's this got to do with anything? Well, madame, I don't think 2 pairs of shoes and nothing else in your basket represents an essential shopping trip do you? And Sir, I don't think a 6 pack of beer and a tub of ice cream represents an essential excursion to the shops do you? I've got nothing against you buying shoes or beer as part of your weekly shop, but stop being an Idiot, it couldn't be more clear, essential trips only! Whilst I'm on a rant. Once you've spent a bit of time running and cycling you get a pretty good idea of who's a runner and who's not, body positioning, foot fall, how their dressed etc all give the game away. So, all you people in your new high viz jackets, 1970's sweat bands, old school plimsolls, brand new mountain bikes and other assorted kit that's never seen the light of day before. Just because the governments said you can go out and exercise doesn't mean you have to. I'm all for encouraging people to get out and about and enjoy the fresh air, but there's a time and a place for everything and this isn't it. If your normal exercise regime consists of going to Tesco for a 6 pack and stopping for a Costa and McDonald's on the way home, then for pity's sake, don't think you suddenly need to go running now. It's not compulsory, and all your likely to do is injure yourself and cause more problems for the NHS! If you do want to make some changes to your life, get more active and start running, then wait until this is over, join a running club where you can get some expert advice, download the Couch to 5K app and do it properly and safely. I'm not saying don't go out, but think about what your doing, put your walking shoes on instead, it's easier on the knees, ankles and your heart! luckily, the chances are the weather will soon put a stop to the new exercise craze, it's not so much fun in the cold and rain and we can soon return to normal. Until then, please just think about what your doing and don't be an idiot! While we're on the subject of Coronovirus, the NHS and other front line services are going to be in for a pretty torrid time over the next few months. Back in my previous life, we went through some pretty tough times out in Afghanistan and I can vouch for the fact that the biggest morale booster going was knowing that your efforts were being appreciated by those back home.
The 8 O'Clock clap on Thursday and the Rainbow in your window thing all show we care and remind those putting themselves into harms way for us, that we do appreciate their efforts. It's easy to take people for granted, but it only takes 2 seconds to say thank you or give that ambulance or police car going the other way when your out for your daily exercise a thumbs up, a little clap or a wave and a smile. But, I'll tell you now, everyone of those waves, smiles or words of gratitude will mean a great deal to those individuals and give them that little boost they need to keep going when it's all getting too much. But we don't need to stop there, it costs nothing to be civil, polite and gracious. I'm sure that the person serving you in Tesco's would rather be hiding away at home too, but they're not, they're doing a repetitive, probably dull job, keeping the country running. Would a smile and a thank you be too hard? You can only go shopping if the guy collecting the trolleys turns up for work, not only do they have to spend their days dodging idiots in unnecessary 4x4's, but now they have to touch hundreds of possibly coronovirus infected trolley's every day too. Is it too much to ask to just acknowledge their existence with an smile and a thank you? Train drivers, bus drivers, bin men (and ladies), electricity and gas workers, plumbers, delivery drivers, cooks, cleaners, the list of people who are keeping the country running, whilst we all hide safely away is endless, and if nothing else comes of all this malarkey, I truly hope that a new found gratitude and respect for those around us rises from the ashes of what has become a rather self centered, me first, world.
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As funny weeks go this one’s been right up there, not in a “ha, ha” way, more in a “what the hell’s that all about” way. At the start of March I had a phone call from work asking if I could go back to Brunei at short notice to fill in for someone who had dropped out over Coronavirus concerns.
At the time it looked like Brunei was going to be a bigger risk than the UK, and after a bit of discussion between work, myself and “The Emma” we came to an agreement that I would indeed step in. To that end, I found myself boarding a flight Monday evening for the 14 hour journey, just as the UK descended into toilet roll hoarding mayhem. Look’s like a lucky escape there thinks I, no toilet roll concerns where I’m going, and how ironic, Brunei now looks safer than the UK. Result! By the time I arrived in Brunei, 14 hours later, the situation had changed somewhat. Within minutes of my arrival the Brunei Government had added the UK to their high risk, no entry policy. I avoided being Quarantined for 14 days by about 30 minutes and scraped into the country by the skin of my teeth. Looking good so far thinks I as I settled into my new palatial accommodation, whilst eyeing up the abundance of toilet roll available and wondering if I had time to get a container load back to the UK. Things however were about to take a turn for the worse. Within hours Royal Brunei Airlines had announced that they were suspending flights to the UK for the foreseeable future, triggering an urgent call back to the UK to say “If you don’t get me out of here ASAP, I’m going to be stuck indefinitely”. Luckily, work managed to get me booked onto the last flight out, having decided that I was probably more use at home than stuck in Brunei. So, 28 hours sat on one of Mr Boeing's finest products, 4 airline meals, 3 airports, 2 books read and 14,000 miles later, I’m back home again, having achieved a grand total of nothing! I told you it had been a funny week. The week’s not been a total waste though. I did manage to get a few running miles in over the couple of days I was away, so from a training perspective it’s been OK, although it’s blinking hot and humid out there. I’ve also managed to catch up on a load of work and some outstanding blog posts so that’s a positive too. On another positive note, I’m also back in time to resume greenhouse duties on the allotment. These next few weeks are when everything really starts to get going and are one of the best bits of the year as far as I’m concerned. It’s nice to be back in time to see the fruit trees blossom and hopefully pick the first spring Rhubarb in a couple of weeks. All rare treats after what seems like a long winter. Where we go from here though is anyone’s guess. Audax UK have announced a cessation of all Audaxing for the foreseeable future and the couple of organised runs that I did have lined up have been either cancelled or moved to later in the year. I suppose we will just have to wait and see what happens over the coming week’s and plan any adventures on an “as and when possible” basis. To that end I’m off out for a run whilst I still can. Oh, and if anyone’s got any spare bog roll can they send me a couple of sheets, some cocky sod thought they would be in Brunei so didn’t bother stockpiling any! Well, the world appears to be going mad. As I haven’t stockpiled any loo rolls or tinned potatoes, (although why on earth you would want to stockpile tinned potatoes as they’re about as edible as wood chippings is beyond me), I thought that I’d best do my bit for Coronavirus avoidance by self-isolating on my bike and the allotment for the weekend. With last week’s wee Travelodge wheeze working so well, I thought I’d give it another go this weekend, and managed to blag a nice cheap room at Fontwell for Saturday night. As with last weekend I was on the allotment with the Lark (Ok it was 08:00, but that’s early enough for most people) and jolly nice it was too. For the first time in ages the sun was shining, and I wasn’t struggling to stand up in a force 10 gale. In fact, half and hour of digging soon had me down to just my overalls, having rapidly discarded my jacket and hat, and even then, it was a bit too warm. The little seedlings seemed to be enjoying the warmth in the greenhouse too, and there’s plenty of new growth showing on the fruit bushes and the roses at home. Give it another couple of weeks and the trees will be starting to green up and I’ll be back to running in shorts. Another winter over with? Well I’m not counting my chickens just yet as we have often seen snow well into March and even the start of April, so there’s plenty of time yet. Anyhow, I digress as usual, so back to the main event. Fontwell’s not actually that far from home, so to increase the mileage and make for a bit of a longer day out I took a rather indirect route. Heading out from home towards Farnham, and then looping around towards the bottom of Guildford and cutting across from there, pushed the distance up to 65 miles. With the sun continuing to shine and the little Tit’s and Finches flitting in and out of the hedgerows to great me as I passed, it was a lovely afternoon’s cycling.
Having left just after 12:00 and stopped for lunch on the way, I was safely tucked up in my new abode, supping endless brews and generally chilling out by 18:00. A quick check of the weather forecast for Sunday showed that things might not be quite so pleasant tomorrow though, with a band of heavy rain moving across the country and forecast to be making a general pain of itself right over my head by 11:00. I can deal with that though, a quick bit of adapt and overcome, change the alarm time to 05:00, get a shift on in the morning and I could probably race the rain home. And that’s exactly what I did, I was flying along on the deserted roads by 06:15 Sunday morning, racing the rain, and you know what; I nearly made it too. The rain was forecast to arrive at 11:00 and at 10:58 I was 62 miles into the 65 mile journey home when the heavens opened! Now you can say what you want about the weather forecasters, they’re getting pretty good at this guessing what the weathers going to do lark. I think that as long as your looking at the right predictions and can accept the odd error (no there’s not going to be a hurricane) and their current fixation for over dramatizing everything, then they do a pretty good job. It’s just a shame that in this instance they couldn’t have been 5 minutes out, because then I wouldn’t have got wet! Guess what? You got it. It’s raining again! On top of the rubbish weather, I’ve been flat out with work recently, so in an effort to create a bit more time for “playing out”, which, at the end of the day is the only reason I go to work in the first place, I thought I’d try the old wheeze of turning the weekend around. A nice little trick in the summer is to leap on the bike straight from work on a Friday and bang out a few miles, before finding somewhere to pitch the Hammock for the night, followed by an early start the next day and be back home for lunchtime. Leaving the rest of the day for other stuff. With the weather still being a bit unpredictable for camping (if I could guarantee not to have to spend the night sleeping in a puddle I’d still be well up for it mind), I lined up a cheap Travelodge room in Warminster for Saturday night, leaving the morning clear for a bit of allotment time. A couple of hours on the allotment saw some good progress, with another few meters of winter digging done (the grounds still too wet for a fork, but the spade goes in OK and I think that breaking it up helps with the drainage and drying it out). A few more seeds planted, a bit of general pottering around in the greenhouse, all interspersed with plenty of diversionary chatting and standing around watching the birds fighting over the freshly dug worms, before nipping back home for lunch with “The Emma”, all adding up to a worthwhile use of a morning. By 13:00 I was fed, watered, changed, had a saddle bag packed with a change of clothes (and the ever present waterproofs) and I was on my way. It’s surprising how familiar I’ve become with a lot of the roads around home, and even further afield for that matter over the last few years. I suppose there are a limited number of roads that are good for cycling, so you tend to use the same or similar routes if your heading in a particular direction, but it’s not uncommon to suddenly think “oh I’ve been here before” when I’m miles away from home, and this weekend was no exception to that rule. The route down to Devises (60 miles) is one I’ve ridden on a regular basis. It’s an easy ride, following the route of the Kennet and Avon canal for much of the time, which, with the assistance of a tail wind made for some quick miles. A short pause for a brew and a biscuit sat in a little roadside bus shelter (you can’t say I don’t know how to live) broke the miles up nicely and offered the opportunity to sit and watch the world go by for a few minutes. Things got a little hillier after Devises, but still nothing too taxing, and I rolled into the Travelodge at Warminster, having popped into the supermarket on the way past for a pint of milk and some bread and cheese, just after it got dark, with 75 miles under my belt. Having pointed out to the nice lady in reception that “No I haven’t got a vehicle registration number or car parked in the car park”. You would think that having wheeled my bike into reception, being dressed in 50 layers of clothes, and wearing a cycling helmet might have been a bit of a giveaway. I settled down for a good stretch, a light supper of bread and cheese and an early night. Maybe not the most exciting of evenings, but still a whole lot better than sitting at home wishing your life away! Up early Sunday morning I was back on the road for just after 07:00 and heading for home. The route back was initially a lot hillier than the route out, with a fair bit of climbing as it dropped down towards Shaftsbury and then turned towards Salisbury. It’s a lovely part of the world though, with some idyllic views, plenty of beautiful little villages, some stunning churches and houses, and at that time on a Sunday morning traffic free, apart from the odd early riser, all of which more than makes up for having to work that bit harder.
A short stop for a brew and a hot cross bun, which in my opinion should be high on the list of ideal cycling treats, carbs, sugars, fruits, all rolled into one tasty little treat, lovely. Followed minutes later by another stop to fix a puncture, saw me rolling through Salisbury just as the 10:00 must get to the shop’s madness started. Not ideal timing, but it could have been worse I suppose (I could have been going shopping!). And that was about it, another brief stop for a sandwich later in the morning and a small diversion around a flooded road saw me back home with another 85 miles completed by 14:00, leaving plenty of time for bike cleaning, and a few other odd jobs, before settling down for tea and a well deserved glass of wine with the lovely, long suffering Emma. Not a particularly exciting weekend in the big scheme of things, but another 160 miles in the legs, every one of which will count towards “Summer smiles” when the days finally lengthen, and the weather warms up. In my opinion well worth the £45 the nice people at Travelodge charged me for a bed for the night! As now seems traditional, the weather wasn't looking too promising for the weekend. After what seems like an endless bout of storms, the bad news was there was another one it's way. And the good news I hear you ask? Well this one's exotic; Coming all the way from Spain to ruin the weekend, I give you storm Jorge! With one eye on the weather and a planned date for Sunday's running of the Steyning Stinger, I thought I could kill a few birds with one stone, fitting in the run, a visit to "The Old Cheese" and a bit of cycling all in one go. So to that end, I restocked the van, aired the sleeping bag's out, packed a few extra layers and my waterproofs and set off after tea on Friday night for the short drive down to Steyning and a quiet little spot for an early night. As predicted Saturday morning dawned wet, and when I say wet, I mean it had thrown it down all night and was still throwing it down as it got light. I briefly considered a change of plan, shelving the bike for a bit of extra time in bed, until the little voice inside my head started rabbiting on about not being made of sugar, being bored and generally being a pain in the backside. Out of bed then, waterproofs on, brew in flask, and off into the rain and gloom. Sometimes I really wish that little voice would just shut up and let me be! Anyway, I had what should be a nice little route planned, so I might as well make the most of it, and what else would I be doing if I wasn’t riding my bike in the rain? So, up from Steyning to cut around the bottom of Haywards heath, before heading towards Ardingly, where things get a bit hillier and more interesting, before looping around to head back via Handcross and Lower Beeding. Sounds like fun, and I’ll always jump at the chance to explore a bit more of the Sussex countryside. By the time I got up towards Ardingly the rain had stopped, the gloom lifted and things were looking up. A flat run out, an hour or so of short sharp climbs around Ardingly, and an easy run back, saw me back at the van in time for a dry set of clothes and a tasty bowl of soup for lunch, before getting ready for a short sprint down to the "Old Cheese's" for an afternoon of tea and chatting. With a total of just over 60 miles for the day, I spent the evening tucked up snug in the van, listening to storm Jorge do it's best to wipe us all off the face of the earth, wondering what tomorrow would bring? The weather forecast didn't look good, but surely it couldn't be much worse than last years running of the Stinger when Storm whatever it was called tried the same trick, could it? Something seemed wrong when the alarm went off at early O’clock Sunday morning. I lay still, listening intently for a few seconds but I couldn't hear it, maybe I'd gone deaf in the night? No, I could hear the alarm so that wasn't the case, it could mean only one thing. The wind had died away, and it wasn't raining. Well that's a turn up for the books! By the time I stepped out of the van, the sun was shining, and all was right with the world, it looks like storm Jorge blew itself out in the night. Yipeee! I’d had a couple of updates in the week from the organisers, informing us that things were going to be wet and muddy out on the course and they weren’t exaggerating. Almost as if they planned it this way “The Stinger” has an unusual start, where instead of the normal line up and leg it like a bunch of lunatics, it’s all very relaxed. Come and sign in, get your number, wander over to the start and when your ready off you go. I’ve never seen it done anywhere else but it’s brilliant, no crowding, no standing around getting cold and everyone’s nicely spread out. Instead of all running for the same bit of small muddy path there’s plenty of space for everyone. And a good job too, as straight from the off the ground was totally waterlogged, with a good couple of inches of standing water laying on the surface, trying in vain to drain away. Not to worry though, I’m sure wet feet never killed anyone (apart from all those soldiers in the trenches) so off I went, across the sodden fields heading for Washington and the first of the big climbs up onto the South Downs proper. Having run this before I had a pretty good idea of what was to come, so tried to keep the pace down from the start, “slow and steady wins the day” and all that, but soon found myself overtaking lots of runners that had set off earlier than I had. That’s the only minor issue with the staggered start, you’ve got no one to pace against, so it’s all down to you. Normally in a mass start you know roughly where you want to be and the pace you can hold, so you position yourself accordingly. Once all the crazy’s that think they can run a 2 hour marathon but have never even run a half have been dropped and the pace settles down, you know you’re doing OK as your running with the same group. No such advantage at Steyning though, it’s all down to you to set and hold your own pace. Out towards Washington things got proper muddy and we had a few spots of rain, but that’s all it was, (well OK it rained quite hard for 5 minutes, but not enough to dampen my spirits) and as we came out of the woods the first big climb loomed ahead.
No problems here today though, run what you can and then swing the old arms and keep on walking as fast as you can. When it get’s steep it’s as fast to walk as it is to run and far more efficient, so as long as your moving forward everything’s good. Once up on the top, the wind was pretty fierce in the exposed areas, but compared to last year, when you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, the views were as spectacular as they always are, and more than made up for a bit of wind. No time to stand around admiring the view today though, there’s a job to be done! It wouldn’t pay to twist an ankle whilst admiring the view and not looking where you’re going, so concentrate on the task in hand and catch a glimpse when you can. Back across the A24 and another steep climb to get back up to Chanctonbury Ring, before turning off on the loop towards Cissbury Ring and the half way point. There’s a couple of miles of steady down hill here to get your breath back before you have to gain all the height back again and start the final loop around Steep down. By the time the bottom of Steep down comes around the legs are starting to complain a bit, but keep on going, there’s only another 5 or 6 miles to go and the last 2 are downhill. Not that that helps much by this stage, but if it tricks the mind into keeping going it’s a nice diversionary tactic. One final slog back up to Chanctonbury Ring and then it’s all over bar the shouting, just the downhill to go. A glance at my watch shows I’m a bit slower than last year but if I keep pushing, I should be able to get under 4 hours. Down the steep side towards Steyning I can feel my calves twinging with cramp, but I’m not stopping now. Allegedly, the downhills are supposed to be easier, but they never are, not when you’ve been going uphill for nearly 4 hours. I drop the pace a bit to stop the legs cramping but keep an eye on the time and push on where I can, before finally sprinting back through the waterlogged field and under the finish banner. Home in 3:58:13 for 29th place from the 221 marathon starters (7th in my age category). 10 minutes slower than last year, but a time I’m happy with none the less. Considering this was my 3rd Marathon in 5 weeks, the course was a lot muddier and wetter than 2019 and I thought it was a good idea to cycle 60 miles the day before instead of having a rest day, I certainly can’t complain about that! And the best bit of the whole escapade, not only did it not rain, but those amazing people at Steyning Running club put on a complimentary fry up for all the runners. Exactly what you need to wrap up a great day out! |
Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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