You may recall that I acquired this little Peugot as an emergency stop gap run around when the Van died. I'd originally considered hiring a car to get to a couple of running events, but a quick browse around the internet threw up this little heap of junk at a very reasonable price (less than hiring a car twice), so it seemed like a better idea to just buy this, and then either sell it again, or scrap it, once the van was back on the road. When I picked it up, it drove like a nail, stank of dog's, was covered in tree sap and pine needles, had 2 dodgy tyres and had an engine warning light on, amongst other problems. However, in full knowledge of all that and in desperate need of wheels, I paid my pittance for it, drove it home, gave it a quick wash and hoover out, changed the oil, stuck 2 new tyres on the front and drove it nearly 300 miles to Wales and back for a running event. Having used it for a while, I've got quite attached to the old heap though, and as such despite the van being back on the road, it's remained parked up outside and I've been using it to go to the shop's, rubbish tip, pick up van spares etc, without really needing it, or knowing what I was going to do with it long term. Well, I've found a solution for that. "The Boy" told me the other day that he's got a date for his driving test and as such when he passes, he'll be in need of a set of wheels and what could be better than a nice little 1.1L Peugot 206. Except, there's a few problems there. Whilst it's fine for me to drive around in an old banger with an engine management light on, no remote central locking, a big old clunk from the front suspension, a rusty spot on the bonnet and using both feet to get it into gear, I don't think it's fair to palm off all those problems on him, and anyway, it won't pass the MOT! So, as a little side project I've been working may way through the list of jobs and getting it all ship shape, and even if I do say so myself, it's gone from a right heap to a lovely little car. _____________________________________________ I suspected from the start that the engine management light may have been omissions based, as the previous owner only used it to go a couple of miles to work and back each day, which is never good for any engine. A good thrash down the motorway to Wales and back would help with that. But, from the off the engine temperature never held steady, wandering from cold to overheating at random, which probably wasn't helping matters either. A closer look showed the although the radiator looked fairly new, it was leaking from the top of the matrix, so it made sense to replace the radiator and thermostat to cure the temperature problems and see where we went from there. The beauty of these little cars is the availability and cheapness of spare parts. I think that the radiator, thermostat and coolant was under £50, so even if that didn't fix it, it wasn't going to break the bank. With the new radiator in hand, it was instantly obvious that the one currently fitted was from a car without air-conditioning and about half the size of the one that was going back on. With the Air-con radiator being in front of the coolant one, the coolant radiator needs to be bigger to cope with the reduced airflow and higher temperatures, which certainly wasn't going to have been helping matters. A quick half hour job to replace the radiator and thermostat and refill the coolant with nice new fluid, and having reset the engine management light it appears to be fixed. I'm guessing, that as it was never at the right temperature it couldn't work out what it was supposed to be doing and hence the engine management light. That, coupled with thrashing it about on a few long runs, seems to have done the trick though. Quick fix number one. _____________________________________________ Easy fix number 2. Replace the gearbox oil with the correct amount of the correct stuff. I suspect that this had never been changed, as once I'd finally got the breaker bar on the sump plug to get it undone, I drained about a litre of black sludge out. Which, when you consider that it's supposed to take 1.9 litres of gear oil, isn't ideal. Drained and correctly refilled it's like a new gearbox, sliding as easily into gear as the day it was built. No more clunks, no more missed gears, no more two feet on the gear lever to get it into gear, just nice slick gear changes. It's amazing the difference a bit of oil makes! I'll change the oils and filters again before it moves onto it's new home, but that ones a definite success, and another £20 well spent. _____________________________________________ A set of spark plugs, at the extortionate cost of £10, and a rocker cover gasket for a miserly amount was the next job on the list. The plugs are a bit tricky to get at, but with the engine red hot they came out easily enough, and with a bit of copper slip around the threads before refitting, they should hopefully come out again if they ever need too. The rocker cover looked like it had seen better days, so while that was off I gave it a quick going over with the wire brush, a bit of rust treatment and a coat of high temperature sliver paint that I had knocking around. Whilst it makes no difference to how it runs, it makes it look like it's actually been cared for when you open the bonnet instead of screaming neglect in your face. While I had the bonnet open, it made sense to replace the auxiliary drive belt too, as that was showing signs of cracking. The one that came off was about 50mm longer than the new one, so I guess it had seen a bit of action and was well past it's prime. Another easy fix for less than £20. _____________________________________________ Onwards ever onwards, and the clunky front end was most likely coming from the Steering inner tie rod joints which got picked up as an advisory at the last MOT. I ordered a set of inner tie rods and a set of outer ball joints while I was at it, and good job I did too. When I started stripping it out it was clear the L/H ball joint was the source of the big clunk, as it was totally shot to bits. I ended up having to saw the R/H one off too, as it was stuck fast, with no amount of heat, big hammer or swearing making any difference. Either way, with new bits fitted, the big clunks gone now, and it actually goes in the same direction as the steering wheels pointing. I whipped it up to the garage to get the tracking adjusted today (having to saw the ball joint off meant I didn't have any reference to put the new one on against, so it was miles out). £40 on parts, a couple of hours of my time and £35 for the tracking adjustment, that's money well spent in my eyes and has made a real difference to how it feels when your driving it. _____________________________________________ Which takes us onto the cosmetics. Many, many, years ago (1989) I did a GSCE in electronics. Which, considering I then went into the mechanical side of engineering, proved to be about as much use as a chocolate tea pot. That is until now. When the Peugot came home to roost, the remote central locking didn't work, which wasn't really a surprise as most of the key fob and the switches within it were missing. Not a problem, as the key still worked, allowing you to use the good old "put the key in the door and turn it method" of entry. But, come on, this is 2021 not 1921, and where's the fun in that. A quick browse of the bodgers favourite website (EBay) and for the princely sum of £10 I was the proud owned of some new switches and a new key body. All that remained was to put my GCSE electronics qualification to good use, by unsoldering the minute switch from the old circuit board, soldering on the new one and swapping all the bits into the new body. Simples, I hear you cry. And indeed it would have been if I had the eyes of a ten year old and not those of a nearly 50 year old. Good old perseverance paid off in the end though and I eventually got them fitted, stuck it all back together and what do you know. It only blinking well works! You'll be pleased to know that with the not inconsiderable sum saved with this little fix, I've invested in a magnifying glass, so should a similar situation ever occur, at least I'll be able to see what I'm doing. I'm on an electronics roll now, so onto the next thing and this ones always been a bit of a worry. The mileage was recorded at the last MOT, but not the couple before it, and when I got the car the mileage display didn't work, which was a bit of a worrying, as I never knew if the recorded mileage was genuine or not. I had thought, that I might be able to get the mileage from the ECU with the code reader, but no joy on that one. I suspect it can be done, but my DIY level code readers not good enough, so fixing the display was added to my list. A bit of googling suggested that the problem was probably with the ribbon cable between the PCB and the LCD display, which made sense, but also highlighted the fact that you couldn't just get a second hand set of clocks, as the mileage was not only held on the ECU but within the PCB of the clocks themselves. Swapping the clocks would apparently result in the higher mileage from either unit being overwritten onto the other. Which when you think about it makes perfect sense and stops people fiddling the mileage by just getting a set of second hand clocks from a lower mileage scrap car. In an idle moment the other day, I pulled out the clocks to have a look and when I removed the back to my surprise the LCD display wasn't actually connected to anything, indeed it didn't even have a cable attached at either end. Which I guess explained why it didn't work! So, back to the Internet and it didn't take long to identify what sounded like the correct ribbon cable, from our friends in China and a special soldering iron head to go with it. At the same time however, I also found a set of second hand clocks and with an unusual bit of pre planning on my part, I parted with the vast sum of £25 for them. My thoughts being that I'd pull them apart when they arrived, at least then I'd have some idea of how the cable should fit once it got here. With the new (Second hand) clocks now in my possession, I did indeed pull them to bits and guess what. The internet is wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There is no ribbon cable in the traditional sense of the word between the PCB and LCD display, just a bit of what looks like rubber sheet stuck to the LCD display, which pushes against the contacts on the PCB and obviously has the wiring buried inside it somehow. So, whip the clocks out of the car, swap the LCD displays over, and what do you know, not only does it work but the mileage is pretty much spot on to what I would have guessed it would be going from the last MOT, so that's another thing fixed and another worry off my mind. I'm guessing that at some point in the past the clocks have been out for some reason or another and whoever played with them probably saw the bit of rubber/cable, thought what's that doing in here, chucked it out and then wondered why the mileage display stopped working. Well now we know what it's for don't we! I'm intrigued as to what the cable that's coming from China is actually going to be for when it gets here though. With any luck it might be for the central display as that's a bit dodgy too! And that just leaves my least favourite job. Bodywork. Working outside and using a rattle can it's almost impossible to get a decent finish, and no matter what you do, it never looks any good. The deep rust spot on the bonnet needed looking at before winter though and with the rest of the paint being faded, deteriorated and impregnated with road dirt, it made sense to give it a bit of a tart up. A couple of hours with the T Cut and polish made a big difference, as did repairing the damage to the back bumper where it had been in a minor prang at some point. The new paint still needs time to fully cure before it gets cut back and polished, but I think that you'll agree, for a 17 year old car it's not come up too bad, and even I'm fairly happy with my repair work to the rear bumper. I've got a set of front discs and pads on order (£50), so I'll change them when they get here and have a look at the back pads and drums while I'm at it. I'll take the opportunity to change the brake fluid while I'm there too, so that will be another job ticked off.
And that will be about it for the time being I think. I'll run it around for a while, shove it through an MOT and just keep driving it until "The Boy" passes his test when he can have it as his first car. If he's really lucky and I get really bored, I might even put a new cambelt, water pump and clutch on it for him too. But lets just see how bored I get before I go making any rash decisions like that. I must admit, that now it's sorted out, I'm a bit loath to let it go. It's gone from being a real shed, that was horrible to drive and almost ready for the scrappy, to a lovely little run around. And all for less than the price of a really cheap holiday and a bit of time and effort! I suppose that when it does go, I'll just have to get another one and start again. Oh well, I do love a little project to be getting on with!
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Because I'm lucky, or stupid, depending on your point of view, I get to put in 45 minutes of free training twice a day by commuting to work. I'll have mentioned before that on the days I cycle in it's 11 miles each way, and on the days that I run, I've managed to get it down to 10. So that's 20 miles of running and 88 miles of cycling on an average week, before I do anything else.
Result, I hear you say, not only free training, but think of all the money your saving by not driving to work. Well, that's not quite the case, because so far this year I've got through 3 pairs of running shoes, 2 bike tyres, a chain, a cassette, a set of brake blocks, and more food than you can shake a stick at. Whilst my colleagues seem to get by on a yogurt and a biscuit bar for lunch, I have 2 bananas, 2 apples, Porridge, a ham and cheese roll and just about anything else I can get my fingers on, and that's on top of breakfast before I leave the house. It costs a fortune I can tell you, and that's before we even consider the extra clothes, cycling shoes, gloves, lights and all that lark. Without a doubt it would be cheaper to drive. And what about the grey, damp, dark and freezing cold days, what about the mixing it up with 40 ton lorries and car drivers who are more interested in their coffee, than where they're going, what about the pot holes that nearly break your wrists, the sore legs and the chapped lips? It makes you wonder why I do it. Well, for a starters it's a great way to start and end the day. As I said, it's free training, if I didn't do the commute I'd be out running when I got home anyway, so I might as well kill 2 birds with one stone. Just as importantly it's a chance to get out in the fresh air, clear my head and chill out. And just occasionally, you get a morning like today. A morning that's so stunningly beautiful that you've just got to stop and stare. The sun's low in the sky, the temperatures dropping allowing some low laying mist to form, and the lights amazing. A couple of days like that a year more than make up for the wet, cold, windy and dull days. You can keep your car, I'd far rather have this as as start to my day! F**k and B******s, just when things were going so well I've gone and hurt myself. I've got no idea how, well actually that's a total lie, because I know exactly how and what I've done, but I'm trying to convince myself otherwise in the hope it will go away!
2 weeks ago towards the end of the Andover Trail Marathon I felt a bit of soreness in the arch of my right foot. At the time I thought that I'd probably just stood on a stone or stepped awkwardly at some point during the run and didn't really think much more about it. I was back on the bike for the work commute Monday and everything felt fine, or as fine as it ever does when you've just run a marathon. By the Tuesday, once some of the other aches had started to subside, it still felt a bit sore, but I ran the monthly 5K at work with no massive issues and despite it still feeling sore, I continued to put it down to Sundays Marathon efforts. Roll on to Thursday of last week and feeling pretty good, I ran the 10 miles home after work. Mistake number one! By the time I got home it didn't feel too good, so I got some ice on it, stretched and rolled it out and hoped that it would be feeling a bit better by the morning, when I'd have to run back to work. Friday morning, I ran the 10 miles back into work (not a lot of choice really as my bike was still at work) and that was mistake number 2. By the time I got to work it felt really sore. Bugger and Bo****ks, why didn't I just listen to my body and give it a break? Oh, well, not to worry it can't be that bad, lets give it a few days off and see how it goes. So that's what I've done. As you'll have seen from last weeks blog I was away playing bikes, so it got a bit of a rest then, and despite feeling sore all week, I've not been running and it's been getting better. Having been here or hereabouts before, I've a good idea that lots of stretching, heat, and ice and more stretching's probably the best thing for it, so that's what I've been doing and it's certainly better. So much better in fact that I was still planning on running the Surrey Tops 50 miler, overnight on Saturday. Come Friday afternoon and pottering around at home I suddenly thought to myself, "Owwwww", as my left heel decided to come out in sympathy with my Right arch. What the hell is that all about? Well, I'm guessing, (hoping), that its a combination of the muscles that are used to running, having done nothing for a week deciding that they're not happy with that. Coupled with a bit of awkward use from my favouring that foot over the other one that's sore. Either way, after a good nights sleep it felt a bit better this morning, and still harbouring hopes that I might be able to get round the Surrey Tops I thought that I'd better give it a try for a couple of miles and see how they felt. From the fact that I'm sat here now typing away and not getting ready to go running you can probably guess that all's not well. Whilst my little local loop wasn't a total disaster and both feet feel better than they did a couple of days ago, I know for a fact that running 50 miles isn't going to do them any favours, and in fact is likely to end up really causing some damage, so sense has prevailed and I'm going to have to find something else to do today, instead. I suppose that I shouldn't complain, and these things are all part and parcel of the running game, but having been running so well recently and having had 2 years injury free, it's incredibly frustrating. Even more so when I know that the only solution is rest and allowing the muscles or tendons, or whatever it is that's not right, the time to mend. Frustrating, yes. The end of the world, no. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself Perratt, get your arse off the sofa and go and get on with something. The sun's about to break through the clouds, its still early and it's going to be a beautiful day, so lets go and do something with it! Well, what a lovely weekend it’s been, not only has it managed to stay dry, but the sun’s come out on more than one occasion and it’s been pleasantly warm with it. Despite the unmistakable smell of Autumn in the air, the trees starting to loose their leaves, the summer cereal crops having been harvested and the process of planting next years crops being underway, maybe there’s still a chance that we may see some sun this year! So, have I taken advantage of the temporary extension to summer? You bet I have, with a return to the bike for a bit of fun in the Cotswolds, all neatly wrapped up under the Audax banner for The Morris Major, a somewhat over length 200km ride through some of the most beautiful countryside in the South of England. With an 08:00 start from Kelmscott, in the South of the Cotswolds, It made total sense to take the van up on Friday night and take advantage of an extra night out. And what a beautiful night out it was. Warm, clear and windless. Sitting on the step of the van, enjoying a pre bed beer, whilst watching the stars move across the sky and listening to the night creatures waking from their day time slumber was a magical experience, and more than made up for the extra half hour sitting in Friday afternoon traffic on the way up. That wasn’t the purpose of my travels though and after a good nights sleep, I was up and ready for the days main event. I must admit that it made a nice change to be able to have a chat with some of my fellow riders and take advantage of a brew at the start too. After so many months of lockdowns, restrictions and staggered starts, this was the first Audax event that I’ve been to that’s had any semblance of normality, all be it with somewhat reduced numbers. Brew’s supped and on the stroke of 8 (or 5 to by my clock, which probably explains why I was still monkeying around when everyone else set off) we were off, or in my case playing catch up from the back. It didn’t take long to catch back up though, and I’d soon fallen in with a small group riding off the front of the main pack. I must admit that I’m not really a fan of riding with others, I think that over the years I’ve spent so much time riding on my own that I’ve just got used to it. Yes, it’s lovely to have someone to chat too, but at the same time you need to spend so much time concentrating on what those around you are doing that you miss what’s unfolding around you. To gain any real benefit of group riding you’ve got to be pretty close to the person in front, and whilst it is a significant advantage, saving a considerable amount of energy whilst your in their slipstream, personally I’d rather be able to see where I’m going and not have to worry that the person behinds about to take me down, than have that advantage. To that end, I wasn’t too fussed, when after an hour or so of sociable chatting we got split up. Having opened up a small gap between myself and my new-found friends coming up a steep incline, I went straight on at a junction and they all turned right. I’ll grant you they shouted me to tell me that I’d gone the wrong way, but according to my version of the route and my map, my way looked better, so I just pushed on. And I must have been correct, because the next time I saw them they were about 15 minutes behind, coming into the first stop of the day just as I was leaving. It just goes to show that sometimes you need to follow your own sense of direction and not be led by the herd. Alone again, and with a chance to better take in the magnificent Cotswold vistas, it wasn’t long before I rolled into the first stop of the day at Snowshill to be greeted with a stupendous spread of cakes and a warm welcome from the lovely ladies manning the checkpoint. A short chat, a hot brew and a massive slice of ginger cake sitting in the sun, did wonders for my morale and as I mentioned earlier, I was just getting up, ready to head back out, when my earlier compatriots rolled in. I wasn’t going to hang around waiting though and pushed on. Snowshill marked the end of the stiff Cotswolds climbs for the time being and the start of what turned out to be a long run on fairly flat roads. Looping up through Gloucestershire and on towards Warwickshire the scenery rapidly changed from rolling countryside to flatter larger fields, accompanied by numerous disused and overgrown small orchards. I guess that there’s just no money in growing small amounts of fruit anymore, with all the big orchards supplying the Cider industry and the majority of our eating apples bought in from overseas. It’s a massive shame really, as you just don’t see the traditional English Apple varieties very often these days. Blenheim orange, Worchester Permain, Christmas Pippin, Cox’s Orange Pippin, Egremont Russet, all replaced by the ubiquitous Braeburn and Pink lady. Oh well, that’s progress for you! Reminiscing about apples isn’t getting this ride done though, although to be honest there’s very little to tell you about on this middle section. 100km of flat, easy riding, though some lovely little villages, on well surfaced roads, only broken up by a very short stop for a “Proof of Passage” receipt stop at Hanbury. Where I acquired a delicious homemade Cheese and Bacon Quiche. I’ll confess that a Quiche isn’t the easiest thing to stow in a saddle bag, but it survived well enough, until I found a nice secluded spot in the sun to stop for lunch. The easy riding can’t last forever though, and coming out of the next checkpoint at Wellesbourne my legs were in for a rude awakening, with the climb back up onto the Cotswolds escarpment and a return to the hilly terrain beckoning as we made our way slowly back towards Bourton-on-the-Water and eventually back to the start. There was plenty of work to be done before getting back to the start though, and I’ll confess that at times, as I struggled up some of the long steep climbs that confronted us, that I cursed the previous flat 100km for luring me into a false sense of security. Climb, descend, climb, descend and repeat for what seemed like an eternity, until eventually with 120 miles in my legs I rolled into Bourton-on-the-Water and the final checkpoint for the day. Normally 120 miles would pretty much mark the end of the days efforts, but not today, oh no! As I mentioned earlier, todays route was somewhat over length for 200Km, coming in closer to 220 (140 miles in proper money) so there was still a way to go. A quick petrol station sandwich to tide me over, and onwards, through the final climbs of the day and eventually onto the long slow descent back to the start and a warm welcome. And a warm welcome back it was too, greeted not only with a hot brew, but a bowl of amazing spicy bean chilli too. Just what the doctor ordered after a long day out. 140 miles through some of England’s green and pleasant countryside in the early Autumn sunshine, on some beautiful, smooth and traffic free roads (Ok there were a few potholes around, but no where near as many as down this way). A big old bit of cake, a tasty bit of Quiche and some home-made bean chilli. You’ve got to be doing something right when that’s how you get to spend your weekends haven’t you?
Man, sometimes I think that I should just give up, crawl under a stone and hide until my luck changes. Your not going to believe this one. There I was Saturday afternoon, just about to head out in the van for Sundays Marathon (more of which later), when I jokingly said to “The Emma” I'll see you tomorrow afternoon or in a minute when the van breaks down again”.
So I wander over to the van, stick all my running stuff in the back and think to myself, “I might just check the oil level before I go”. Good idea, I hear you say, better to be safe than sorry and all that. Well, I've still got no idea if the oil levels correct, because the end 4 or 5 inches of the dipstick has snapped off at some point in the last 250 miles and I'm guessing fallen into the sump! I mean seriously, in the last few months I've fitted a new engine and all the consumables that go with that, clutch, slave cylinder, injector, injector bolts, glow plugs, track rod ends, earth leads, water pipe O ring seal, alternator and now the sumps going to have to come off to get the missing bit of dipstick back. “For Fu**s sake” it was only fitted a couple of weeks ago, but I can't just leave the loose bit laying loose and floating around in the sump. Knowing my luck it will either get caught in the oil suction pipe and starve the engine or get mashed to bits by the big end, and end up starving the turbo of oil when the bits block the pipes, either of which are a disaster. So I guess next weeks job is going to be dropping the sump off and hoping and preying that the loose bit stays safely in the bottom until then. I suppose that on the positive side it will give me a chance to have a look at the bottom end and the workmanship of the engine re-builders, although if previous things are anything to go by, I think that I'd probably be better of not knowing!
In other news and before I get onto Sunday's Marathon efforts, I actually had a leisurely day on Saturday. I had planned on getting out on my bike for a few miles in the morning, but I woke up and thought to myself “you know what I'm tired and really can't be arsed, lets just have another brew in bed and head up to the allotment instead”. Now that's an unusual one for me, but I have been pushing it quite hard recently (Sunday will see 3 marathon+ efforts in 4 weeks, plus my normal training schedule) and sometimes it's worth just listening to your body and taking head, so an extra brew it was!
You'll be pleased to know that I didn't spend the whole day just sat in bed supping brews though. Eventually I dragged myself up the allotment for a couple of hours, most of which was spent putting the world to rights with Kev on the plot opposite, but I did manage to get the important job that I actually went up there for done and pick the best part of half a bucket of Tomatoes and a few chilli's and herbs to make into Pizza and Pasta goo.
Back home, an afternoon of cooking provided sufficient tomato goo to fill 10 freezer bags, which should be more than enough to see us in home made Pizza's, Flans and a few Pasta dinners for the rest of the year once it's frozen down.
Whilst we are on the subject of cooking, 2 years ago my first ever blog post dealt with the problem of an overloaded Plum tree and the predicament of knowing what to do with a glut of Plums. Well, if I thought that 2 years ago I had a lot of Plums, that had nothing on this year. To be honest, I don't think that I've ever seen so much fruit on one tree, and it's only a little tree at that, the branches are literally bending under the weight of the fruit on it and unfortunately there's only so many Plums that one man can eat or give away.
Now, I've had a go at Plum jam previously as a way of dealing with excess fruit and it didn't come out too well, not only are they a pain to de-stone, but the skins are tough as old boots once they're cooked too. I'll grant you, that it's a lovely tasting breakfast type jam (Sharp and no too sweet) but the skins are a bit off putting.
As such, I thought I'd try a different approach this time around and mix the Plums up with a load of Snozberries (I don't actually know what these are, but they grow like mad on the allotment and taste lovely, but are too seedy to just eat). Half an hour spent cutting Plums in half followed by a quick boil, a mash and sieving through Muslin yielded nearly 2 litres of lovely fruity juice.
Mixed with an equal amount of Jam sugar and given a good boiling in my “Jam Pan” (Courtesy of the “Old Cheese”) it provided nearly 7Lb's of Jam. Unfortunately, I'd miscalculated slightly and only prepared 6 Jars, so one jar's not been sterilised and the remainder had to go into a spare ramekin. Obviously, these 2 won't keep, so are going to have to get eaten sharpish. Now, that's a shame isn't it. I'm sure it will taste lovely in my porridge on Monday morning and I'm sure that you'll be the first to know if it isn't!
While we are on the subject of Plums and as I mentioned above, this weekend marks the second anniversary of my little blog, and what a project it's become. Back in the mists of time when I first started this little endeavour, it was never going to be the epic tale that it seems to have become. I'd originally envisaged the odd post and maybe a bit of spiel about the Van plan and that was about it.
Over the months and weeks it's actually become quite therapeutic though. Putting your thoughts into words seems like quite a good way to sort them out and gives you a chance to think and reflect on what's gone before and if nothing else my spelling and grammar seems to have improved. I actually found out what a semi colon was the other day and when it should be used and “The Emma” explained “I before E except after C” too. Ok, I'm making the last bit up but it's not far off the truth. I often think that I've not been up too much and I spend too much time sat in front of the TV too, but looking back over the last couple of years it's surprising what I have been up too. I mean, there's been a new engine in the van for a starters, Project Patio has been started and finished, there's A Home Made Christmas, a new job, nearly 30 marathons and ultras, quite a few Audax's, the Coronovirus Kerfuffle, work trips to Brunei, Singapore and Cyprus, 2 years worth of Allotmenting, a couple of thousand miles of running, a bit of walking and a good few cycling miles and that's just for starters. Oh, and an almost weekly blog and the accompanying web pages too (and that takes a bit of work, I can tell you). Its certainly been worth it though and even now, I often flick back to see what I'd been up to in previous months. Maybe, when I'm old(er), Grey(er) and more decrepit than I am now, I'll be able to look back at these pages and think “Yeah, I did manage to cram a bit in, and maybe my time wasn't wasted after all”!
And finally we can get onto the whole point of this weeks missive, the Andover Trail Marathon, 26 miles of off road fun, with a mainly up hill first half, followed by a fast downhill run back to the start. After a good nights sleep in the van (actually it was rubbish with a church clock waking me up every hour and some Owls having a party, but we can't have everything can we), the day dawned overcast, still, and warm, possibly perfect running weather.
With an early start and straight into the uphill, the newly harvested and harrowed fields alongside the trail were still shrouded in the early morning mist, lending an eerie feel to the morning and limiting the visibility to a few hundred yards. A deer leapt from the hedgerow and proceeded in front for a few meters before heading back through the hedge and the narrow lanes were filled with Pheasant and Partridges awaiting their fate in the next few weeks. Through wooded glades and open farmland but ever upwards towards the high point and halfway mark at Combe Gibbet. No view of the surrounding countryside today though with the whole area shrouded in cold, damp mist.
Just under 2 hours to the half way point and that's allegedly the hard bit done, slightly faster than I expected but I'm feeling good so push on. It's not quite true that it's all down hill on the way back, more rolling for the first few miles, but the paths are good and as the morning progresses so the mist slowly burns off and the sun starts to make an appearance.
The running feels good today, just the steady beat of my footsteps hitting the trail and the gentle rhythm of my breathing for company, those that were running in close proximity on the way up, lost some way behind, as the second half progressed. Short road sections intersperse the trail as I pick my way back towards the start, they were right though and it's more downhill than up now, allowing a good turn of speed. At the 22 mile mark I pick up the first of the Half Marathon back markers and whilst they are just plodding along, it's a welcome morale boost to catch and pass them, knowing that I've covered twice the distance in pretty much the same time, is always a good feeling, maybe not so much for those being passed though. A couple more miles and then it really is all downhill to the finish (except for the last bit at the end). 3:37:20 for 26.2 miles, a time which surprisingly was good enough for first place from the 63 starters. I've got to be happy with that and more importantly it felt good too. Beautiful weather, beautiful scenery, a well planned and signposted route and some great people manning checkpoints and aid stations. As early Autumn fun goes, it doesn't get much better than that!
Oh, and having got back earlier than planned from my Sunday run. I managed to retrieve this piece of rubbish on Sunday afternoon. Granted I had to take the sump off to get it back, but at least it's not sloshing around the engine any more!
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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
March 2024
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