Ahoy, Hoy, as they used to say. What's happened to the Summer? We had a few nice weeks in June, and since then it seems to have been either blowing a hooley (whatever one of them is) or damp and miserable. I'm not complaining too much mind you, (although actually I am), because whilst it's not been the best weather for getting out and about, I don't really feel like I'm missing anything. Plus it's doing wonders for the allotment, and I'm not lugging loads of watering cans full of water about! Saturday morning I ventured out into the gale for a few miles on the bike, nothing to strenuous, just a quick 50 mile blast around the local area, but there's a couple of things of the back of that that are worthy of mention. First and most impressively, I ventured out early in the hope that I would miss the worst of the rain that was forecast for most of the day. I got back home just after 11 and just as I walked up the garden path it started spitting with rain. By the time I'd taken my shoes off, it was throwing it down, and 12 hours later, when I went to bed, it was still raining. Now, I don't seem to have been having much luck recently, but maybe this is a sign that my lucks on the change? The other thing from Saturdays ride is the time of year. Now it's nearly the end of July, and as I slogged along with my head down into the howling head wind, I noticed that lots of the fields alongside my route were still filled with unripe cereal crops, and it occurred to me that none of the farmers have started harvesting yet. Now, this seems to back up my theory that we are a couple of weeks behind on the allotment, and so it would seem are the farmers. In fact checking back through the old blog posts for July 2021 and 2022, shows pictures with harvested fields and straw bales for this very same week. So what does that tell us? Well I don't know, but it does seem to confirm that the summer so far has been pretty miserable, and that my previous ramblings about the growing season being a few weeks behind are probably about right. Taking advantage of the wet afternoon I spent the rest of Saturday making jam. That Redcurrant bush I mentioned last week on the Allotment was absolutely laden with ripe currents, just waiting for picking, which is exactly what I did Friday evening. A couple of hours on the plot in the evening sunshine, yielded just over 3KG of Redcurrants from my single bush. Which I think is pretty impressive, and is certainly the most its ever produced. While I was there, there was plenty of other Veg for the picking too, and I returned triumphantly, with a nice haul to see us through the weekend, including the first of the Tomatoes. I've got to add that homegrown Tomatoes are the best thing ever. They're head and shoulders above those tasteless things you buy in the shops. I'll admit that the skins tend to be a bit tougher, but that's a small price to pay for something that actually tastes like it should do, and if you've only got space to grow one thing, I'd say Tomatoes would be the one, probably followed closely behind by Cucumbers. The next question is what to do with 3KG of Redcurrants? "The Emma" came in from work whilst I was sat in the garden destalking them and said "Oh, Redcurrants, yummy" before grabbing a handful and shovelling them into her mouth. I don't know if you've ever tried Redcurrants but they're up there with the sharpest tasting things on the planet, and it only took a few seconds before the look on her face turned from one of joy at having managed to steal some of my treasure, to a look of horror as the sharpness hit her taste buds. That'll teach her! Currents destalked, washed and cleaned, it was into the pot with a couple of spare apples to extract the valuable juice, as step one of the jam making process (Currents have annoying little pips that don't go well in jam, so the best bet is to get rid of them, and just use the juice, I find raspberries and blackberries to be the same). Apart from an accompaniment to roast meats and a tasty addition to the gravy boat, I never really know what to use Redcurrant jelly for. It's a still a bit too sharp for my tastes to spread on toast, and it doesn't really work in the morning porridge, so as a bit of an experiment I've tried Rhubarb and Redcurrant jam this year, alongside the normal plain Redcurrant jelly. I've no idea what it'll be like, but the initial tastes as I was making it seemed promising, and at the end of the day, what's the worst that will happen? Even if it's horrible I've only wasted a bag of sugar and some time (the most valuable commodity of them all), but even if it's too sharp to eat on toast I'm sure it'll add a bit of taste to the Sunday gravy. Watch this space, and if you never hear from me again, it's probably because the Rhubarb and Redcurrant Jam has been the end of me, I'll be sure to report back either way! Despite managing to hide some of it in the jam, I still had a load of Rhubarb left over and no idea what to do with it. I love it simply stewed with a bit of sugar. The only problem with that being that I'll keep dipping in for another spoonful out of the fridge and come dinner time I'm full of Rhubarb. Casting round for other ideas for using it up, I wondered if it could be dried and preserved? A quick Google, seemed to suggest that it could be, but no one seemed to have any use for it once it had been dried out. There wasn't much point in just dehydrating it so the fun of it, so I wondered what would happen if I added loads of sugar to it prior to dehydrating it? There was only one way to find out, and as before what's the worst that will happen? So Rhubarb finely sliced, covered in a good handful of caster sugar and allowed to stew for a few minutes and then into the dehydrator for 18 hours. "What's the worst that will happen"? In this case nothing. It's a taste sensation is what it is! I don't know how well it'll keep, because it's still quite moist, and being covered in sugar it's a bit sticky, but I don't think that's going to be a problem because I can't keep my fingers out of the jar. The best way I can describe it is like those chewy sugar coated sour sweets you get. It's chewy, with a sweet start from the sugar, then the tartness as the Rhubarb kicks in and floods your mouth with sharpness. If I was trying to replicate chewy, sour sweets from home made ingredients, then this would be as close to perfection as you could get. Beautiful! Right, just before I go. I came home from work one day in the week, to be hit by the most beautiful aroma of flowers as I walked through the gate. Sitting in the garden having a post work brew, it was almost overpowering.
And where was this amazing scent coming from? Well, it didn't take long to track it down to a couple of Lilly's that have just bloomed (although that should probably be "had" by now, as they won't have survived Saturdays rain). It's the little moments and things like that, which make gardening and growing things in general so special in my opinion. It's a years worth of nurturing, tending and growing, but when the flowers come out, or the veg is ready for picking, the rewards, smells, tastes and sights, are just so rewarding. And on that note, I'll leave you with a few pictures of the garden, and sign off for the time being. I'm off to Cardiff tomorrow for "The Boys'" university graduation. That's another one that took a lot of nurturing, tending and growing, but he got there in the end, and as with the flowers, it's just so rewarding to see the finished product!
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Well, here we are again. Hopefully, you'll all be pleased to know that I'm still alive, just, (quiet at the back!). Unfortunately though, it's going to be another rather dull update in this episode of "What's Paul been up to". Hopefully, you will be pleased to know that whilst I'm still not running, things do seem to be improving, and my Knee and Achilles tendons which have been giving me loads of problems are starting to feel a bit better. This has been the first week in a long time that I've actually been able to run up and down the stairs, and instead of getting out of bed in the morning and hobbling round the house like some sort of stiff legged donkey, I've been out of bed and on my feet with no problems. To that end, I've ventured back to lunchtime circuits at the gym a couple of times this week, and whilst my knees feel no where near strong enough to run on, they do feel like things are moving in the right direction, which is a positive and has done wonders for my mental health. I still think there's another couple of months ahead of me before I get anywhere near running again, but even that's better than nothing. The problem now is not pushing too fast and ending up back at square one! Whilst I haven't been running, I have still been keeping up the work commute on the bike, so the bike miles are steadily creeping up, and although I've been struggling a bit for motivation on the bike front, I think that things are improving and unlike this time last month, when even the bike felt like a slog, I'm enjoying the morning and afternoon rides into work and back again, and I'm quite enthusiastic about getting out on some longer stuff in the coming weeks. So I suppose the big question on everyone's lips is "What has he been up to then while he's not been adventuring"? Well, the main focus of attention for the last couple of weeks has been car related. I may have mentioned during my last update that "The Emma's" 206 GTI had failed it's MOT, and not just a little fail either. The main problems being the rear axle suspension arm bearings, and the fact that the fog lights switched themselves off at random. The rear axle bearings are a known issue on these cars, but not an easy DIY fix. The quickest and easiest solution being a reconditioned rear axle. But nothings ever that simple and to get the rear axle out, the brakes have to be stripped down, brake pipes removed, wheel hubs and bearings removed, and shock absorbers removed too, and then the fun of getting a heavy old lump of metal out from underneath the car begins. Never one to shy away from a challenge, it wasn't actually too bad a job, and while it was in bit's I took the opportunity to treat a few more rusty bits, clean up all the removed parts and replace all the rear suspension bits and wheel bearings etc, which should hopefully give it a few more years life. The Fog light issue, well that was another matter, mainly because I listened to "The Emma" instead of doing what I should have done and carried out some proper fault diagnosis. "The Emma" was adamant the the indicator stalk was the problem, so I duly found one on E bay and ordered it. Once it arrived a bit of delicate dismantling and reinstalling had the new one fitted and once back together, yes you guessed it, it was exactly the same. Doing what I should have done in the first place I eventually narrowed the problem down to the electronics unit behind the steering wheel and managed to find a reconditioned one for a reasonable price, which did fix the problem. Just creeping in within the 10 day MOT retest window, it's back on the road again for another year and in far better condition than it was before. Now all I need to do is sort the bodywork out, where it's starting to show a few initial signs of the dreaded tin-worm, and well be good to go for another few years. In other news, the allotments going great guns and after a slow start things are finally starting to come together. We've been eating Broad Beans and Peas for the last few weeks and tucked in to the first of the French Beans this week. There's lettuces ready to pick and I've had tucking in to home grown Cucumber, which is far superior to those tasteless shop bought ones, in my sandwiches for the last few weeks.
The soft fruit is starting to ripen up nicely too. Whilst the Strawberry crop was a massive let down, the Loganberries have been very productive, producing more than enough for a breakfast treat with my cereals every day, whilst leaving plenty left over for jam making. I'd hope that the Runner beans and Tomatoes will be in fruit by next weekend and the Redcurrant bush is groaning under the weight of fruit on it too, so hopefully there's plenty more still to come in the next few weeks.
I don’t want to speak too soon, but it certainly looks like the weather has finally taken a turn for the better. After what felt like weeks of endless howling easterly winds, the last few days have been sunny, warm, and pleasant, apart from a brief thunderstorm on Sunday evening and some rain overnight, which I’m sure the garden and allotment are more than grateful for.
The change in weather seems to have cheered me up a bit too. It’s amazing how much better cycling to work on a warm, still, hazy summers morning is, compared to a wet, miserable, windy winter commute. While we’re talking about cycling, I got out Saturday morning and had a better day than I have for a long time. As I mentioned last week, I’ve had a slightly different approach this weekend and it made a real change. Saturday, I had a couple of ride options all of which started reasonably close to home, 100, 200 or 300km options all appealed, but in the end the 100 won out. I’ve done the 200 before and it’s a great route but my thoughts today were that I could extend the 100 by riding to the start and back and adding a few extra miles in, plus I could have a leisurely day out and still be home in time for tea and medals.
With an 09:00 start, even riding to the start left plenty of time for a leisurely start to the day and I headed out from home into the morning sunshine, just after 07:30 (that’s a right lay in for me).
For the first time in a long time, my legs felt pretty good as I headed towards the start along familiar roads. My recent saddle tweaks seemed to have done the trick, as the aches and pains that have plagued my recent outings never materialised, although only time will tell if that’s a permanent improvement or not. It didn’t take long to knock out the 15 miles up to the start, just long enough to burn off enough calories to justify having a cup of tea and slice of toast at the start. Noting the empty trestle table where the brevet cards for the 200 and 300 riders had been, and the couple of left over cards from non-starters, raised a slight pang of regret, and the thought that maybe I should have been out getting some proper miles in, instead of messing around with a 100. But then I remembered that if I’d done the 300 I’d have already been on the road for 3 hours. I wouldn’t have had a leisurely start to the day, and i wouldn’t have been sat there drinking tea and eating toast whilst chatting to my fellow riders and having a lovely time. I’d have been out on the road somewhere!
Bang on 9 O’clock we were back on the road heading for the days first checkpoint (and the option for another brew) at The Saddleback Farm Shop at Farnborough (Berkshire).
Chatting with a fellow rider as we made our way through the countryside, the miles flew by. Long steady climbs rewarded the effort with expansive views from the tops and fast sweeping downhills. Birdsong filled the air as we traversed narrow country lanes and the sun shone down from a cloudless sky as we made our way North(ish) through picture postcard worthy English countryside. Almost too soon, the first checkpoint arrived, and our farm shop hosts had gone above and beyond expectations, setting up a tea stall outside with ready packaged cake offerings and hot brews to avoid the short queues in the main café. A slice of delightful chocolate brownie, a hot brew, and expansive views across the surrounding countryside from my seat on the sunny patio, reminded me yet again what I’d been missing in the race for ever greater distances and PBP qualifying rides. This was more like it, riding for the sake of riding, exploring the great British countryside from the saddle of my bike and taking the time to stop, look and listen. Proud Oak trees, church steeples standing proud against the surrounding countryside or peeking above the surrounding hills, Skylarks singing, Red Kites soaring majestically, roadside verges filled with a multitude of fresh verdant growth and wild flowers, fields with wildlife margins bright with Poppies, Squirrels watching intently with one eye as they go about their endless business, Deer standing tall amongst the fields of crops, listening and watching as you pass, and the unspoken camaraderie of fellow cyclists. Yes, this was what I’d been missing.
Much as I could have sat all day and watched the world go by, it wasn’t achieving much. My earlier companion had already departed by the time I’d finished daydreaming and I set off again alone. I’m happy with that though. Don’t get me wrong, I like a bit of company occasionally and I’m always happy to chat and pass the time, but at the same time I’m happy in my own company, just me and my shadow going about our business unnoticed.
Pushing on, the delights continued in the late spring sun. Mile after mile of quiet country roads through glorious rolling countryside, the surrounding fields a multitude of shades of green, silently basking under the baking sun. Through quiet villages unchanged, bar the addition of the ever-present motor car since the invention of the bicycle, across steams and brooks, filled with cold, brilliantly clear, fast-moving water, making its way silently to the sea. Past Duck ponds, manor houses, farmyards, and churchyards. Over railway bridges, erected before the advent of motorised transport, yet still doing their job over a 100 years later, across the Kennet and Avon canal where the working boats have long since vanished and been replaced by holiday makers and those seeking an alternative, more relaxed form of living, past horse riders, walkers, runners, and other cyclists all enjoying the wonders of the great outdoors in their own way.
An ice cream enjoyed sitting in the sun provided proof of passage for the next checkpoint and then a final few miles along more familiar roads as I made my way back towards the start. Burghclere, Kingsclere, Aldermaston, and Silchester with its Roman walls and ruins, all came and went, as I made my way steadily along.
Long climbs, short climbs, fast descents and twisty sharp bends, their corners loaded with loose gravel ready to catch the unwary, each provided variety and challenge. A brief spell into a head wind towards the end, made me grateful for those low gears and drop handlebars, as I got my head down to try and provide a smaller, more aerodynamic front, in an attempt to cut through the wind, but all the while a smile on my face.
Before I’d even had time to think about it, I was back at the start, the majority of my day done and still only just approaching 14:00.
A brief stop to get my brevet card stamped and signed off, refill my water bottles and thank the organisers for a brilliant day out and then it’s the small matter of the 15 miles back home. That’s no hardship though, not today, the sun’s still beating down from the cloudless blue sky and I’m as happy as Larry (whoever he is).
What a difference a few weeks make and what a difference a slight change of approach makes. I was back home with exactly 100 miles completed just after 15:00, leaving plenty of time for a shower and a bite to eat, and still had time to get the weekly shopping done before “The Emma” got home, and I’d had a really great day out.
In fact, I’d go as far as to say that it’s been a long time since I had that good a day out.
Whilst things are looking up on the cycling and running front (hopefully), there’s been a bit of a setback on the Allotment!
Having gone to great expense and effort to erect a Pigeon proof enclosure to protect my precious fruit and veg from their beady eyes I arrived at the plot Friday afternoon to find a Pigeon sat slap bang in the middle of my fruit cage! Not only was he sat there watching my approach with his beady eye, but he was also looking particularly rotund and pleased with himself! As soon as I got close, he flapped off, crashing noisily into the sides of the net before bouncing back off again and repeating his fruitless escape attempt at the opposite end a few times. Now I’ll admit that I’m not over keen on flappy things, or little scurrying things, or cats, dogs or horses, which doesn’t leave many things that I am keen on, and having chased the stupid Pigeon from one end of the cage to the other a few times I was starting to wonder how I was going to get it out. Whilst stupid, flapped noisily around, I took the opportunity to survey the damage he’d managed to do. Now, you’ll be amazed at how much destruction a single pigeon can cause, and this one had been busy. The little sod had stripped the leaves from every single Brassica which I’d spent time raising from seed, nurturing, watering, planting out and generally trying to get to grow. That’s 15 spring cabbages, 15 winter cabbages, 15 kale, 15 sprouts and 15 broccoli plants. To say I wasn’t impressed is an understatement! Fortunately for the pigeon a gust of wind lifted the net revealing the gap that it had obviously got in through and it beat a hasty retreat. I say luckily, as having seen the destruction it had caused my thoughts of shooing it out of its temporary prison, quickly turned to getting hold of the little git and making it into pigeon pie, so it had a lucky escape! I’m not happy though. I’ve fixed the small gap that it got in and back out again through, so hopefully that’s put an end to that. But I’m not so hopeful about the Brassicas. I’ve watered them a couple of times in the hope that they’ve got a strong enough root system to bounce back from their attempted murder. But I’m not hopeful, as they weren’t doing that well to start with, so it’s just going to be a case of keeping my fingers crossed and if they don’t look like they’re going to recover starting again! I’m sure these things are sent to test us and test us they certainly do! You might have noticed from the tone of my recent posts that thing’s haven’t really been going to plan recently. My knees are still a long way from being right, and I really seem to have lost my way a little bit recently. I know that I’m incredibly lucky to be as fit and healthy as I am. But, 3 months ago I was running marathons and cycling hundreds of miles without problems. And suddenly finding myself unable to run any further than the back gate without my knees hurting, and then having problems with my other leg during my recent Audax outings has been a bit of a blow! I managed a couple of short runs (2.5 miles) a couple of weeks ago, with no real problems and thought that things were looking up, but then last week I pushed that up to 5 miles and I’m almost back to square one again, although a couple of days rest over the weekend have seen an improvement. Likewise, I tried moving my saddle position on the bike last weekend in the hope that that would help with my cycling issues. And whilst there was an improvement, things still didn’t seem right and I’m not confident that that has solved any of those problems either. The biggest problem is that the only way to really find out if things are any better is by pushing the distance back up again, but I really don’t want to be stuck miles from home, in pain, with no way to get back again. It’s a catch 22 situation! Add into the mix the fact that my real goal for this year was the Paris- Brest - Paris 1200Km Audax which required a 600Km qualifier ride in the next couple of weeks and everything seemed to be stacking up against me. To that end, I’ve had some hard thinking to do over the past couple of weeks and had some difficult decisions to make. As I mentioned above the main target for this year (once the running went South) was Paris- Brest - Paris, which I had been looking forward too. But as the weeks have gone on and my knees have been playing up, the thought of achieving a 600Km qualifying ride within the correct time window, has gone from being an enjoyable one, to a lead weight hanging over my head. The thought of doing 600Km on legs that could barely get round a 200 the other weekend was filling me with fear, and that time window was just pressure that I don’t need. Plus, when I really started to think about it, I’m not even sure if I wanted to go to Paris in the first place. Paris- Brest - Paris is the big Audax ride, it’s the big one that started all the others and if you look at the Audax UK website you’ll see that qualifying for Paris- Brest - Paris was the whole reason Audax UK was set up in the first place, but does that mean that I really wanted to go and do this ride, or was I just being dragged along in the knowledge that it was the “done” thing? Last year there was no way that I was a going to miss out on London Edinburgh London, I’d have sawed my own head off to ensure that I was on the start line. But Paris- Brest - Paris, I’m not so sure! The whole thing was just becoming unnecessary pressure and a bit of a pain in the backside. Even if I did the qualifying rides, there is still the small matter of getting to Paris and back, and all the messing around that entails, and could I really be bothered with that? As I’ve already said, this weekend was supposed to be a 600km qualifying ride, and I’m guessing that the “supposed too” gives that game away. But. Friday morning, I took my Audax bike in to work to see how my legs felt, and despite feeling Ok over the 22-mile commute, things still didn’t seem quite right. Getting home I hit on the idea of taking my work commute bike instead. My legs have always felt Ok on that and although it wasn’t set up for Audaxing, I could probably manage a 600 on it as a one off, which seemed like a reasonable plan. Friday afternoon, I spent a couple of hours messing around swapping wheels, handlebar extensions, lights and a tyre around and doing a bit of general fettling, with the plan being to try and get the 600 in, even if it killed me. By the time “The Emma” got home it was nearly 16:00 and I was still messing around. I wasn’t really achieving much and was really just wasting time. I should have been getting ready to leave, not just filling in time pottering around and finding excuses not to be getting ready, but my heart just wasn’t in it. When “The Emma” came out with a brew and to see what I was doing we had a bit of a chat, and for maybe the first time I voiced my fears and told her that I didn’t actually think I had this weekend’s 600 in me. 600Km’s a massive distance however you look at it. And the fact that half of it was going to be directly into a head wind, my knees hurt before I’d even started, and my heart really wasn’t in any of this, made it seem like an impossible wall to climb, and not something that I was looking forward too. 90% of any long ride is mental resilience and having the will power to keep pushing on when the going gets tough, and if I was thinking about quitting before I’d even started, then what chance did I have? “The Emma” played the voice of reason, but I knew deep down, as I suspect that I have for a while, that this wasn’t going to happen. I sat in the sun for a while trying to make up my mind what to do. I huffed and puffed, I stomped around for a bit, I had another brew, and then I decided to go out for a couple of miles to shake my legs down and see how the changes I’d made to the bike felt, and hopefully decide what I was doing while I was out. I was only going to go round the block. But once I reached the end of the road, I felt like carrying on. The sun was shining, the wind was on my back (for the minute) and I headed out on a little route that I used to ride when I first got back into cycling properly, 10 or so years ago. It had been a long time since I’d last been this way, and my thoughts turned back to those early days. The hills that I now breezed up, had seemed like mountains all those years ago. Legs, strong from thousands of miles, propelled me easily along, and lost in my thoughts, some clarity started to appear. Paris didn’t interest me enough to put myself through a 600 this weekend, that was just unnecessary pressure. But I realised something else too. I remembered what I was missing and what I probably really wanted to be doing instead of pushing endless distances. The thing that drew me back to the bike was getting out there and exploring, it was stopping to have a sandwich in a field gate, whilst admiring the view, it was stopping for a brew mid ride, it was stopping to get my breath back and just stopping to look at something that caught my interest. All things that had been lost in the endless push for longer and longer brevets in faster times. Those few miles from home on Friday afternoon reminded me what I’d been missing and what I really wanted. I didn’t want the pressure of qualifying rides, I wanted to be riding for fun, and that’s what this was. Mind made up then? Well not really, I was still Umming and Arrring when I got home, but I knew deep down that I didn’t really want to go to Paris, I was just doing it because everyone else was, and it was allegedly the done thing. And I’m afraid that isn’t enough of a reason to push myself around a 600! So, I pulled out of the weekends 600 and I’ve abandoned my plans for Paris- Brest - Paris too. And you know what, it feels like a massive weight off my mind. I suspect that in a few weeks I’ll probably regret that decision. But it wasn’t a rash one, and I think I’ve known deep down, that I didn’t really want to go for quite a while, so I don’t think it’s a spur of the moment decision either. And at the end of the day, if I’m not enjoying the process then what’s the point. Cycling is supposed to be fun, not a chore. What now then? Well, for a start I’ve bought myself some thinking time and the chance to try and get back to some solid miles and pain free training (both running and cycling).
Now that there’s no pressure, I actually feel enthused about other things too. I’ve booked onto a couple of shorter rides in the coming weekends that I can get to from home, which I’m actually excited about, and I’ve got lots of other things that I want to do (not cycling or running) that I’m excited about too. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not abandoning my cycling and running plans, and I fully intend to get back to full fitness as soon as possible. There’s still lots of things that I want to do on both fronts, but now there’s no rush, apart from my rapidly diminishing running fitness levels, and I can hopefully take the time to get back to where I want to be without causing longer term damage. To that end, those of you that are just here for the ridiculous running and cycling adventures might have to bear with me for a while. But in the meantime, as I’m allergic to sitting around doing nothing, I’m sure that there will be plenty of other stuff to occupy the odd blog update. A few sneak previews of which are below, just to possibly pique your interest.
Well, things are looking up, I don’t want to tempt fate, but I’ve got through a whole week without getting rained on, it’s certainly not summer, but things are definitely looking up. I’ve had a pretty good weekend too, which always helps on the morale front.
So, what have I been up to this weekend then? Well for a start, I’ve done a bit of giving back to the community. Which is always rewarding. Last week I had a spare hour, so I took the strimmer up to the allotment and “strimmed” the paths and a couple of vacant, overgrown, plots. It’s an easy enough job if you’ve got the right tools, but pretty much impossible if you haven’t, plus it’s one of those instant gratification type jobs. With very little effort you can make a massive difference, which is just the sort of job to cheer you up. The lady that organises things on the allotment has been trying to get a working party together to help move a load of rubbish that someone had left on their plot when they moved on too. Watching the Watsapp chat, there were plenty of volunteers when she first asked for some help a few weeks ago. However, as with most things, come the planned day (Saturday), everyone suddenly had other plans or diversions. Knowing that I couldn’t help on Saturday due to my other commitments, I wandered up on Friday afternoon and with the help of another willing volunteer we cleared the whole lot into a skip in under an hour. Another instant gratification job and nothing too strenuous either, just a bit of humping and dumping, and a free workout to boot. Hopefully they will find someone to take over the cleared plot as it used to be a lovely plot, but a change of owner saw it quickly go to ruin (as many do), which I always think is a crying shame. Keeping up with the community spirited approach, I spent Saturday marshalling on the Chawton challenge, an LDWA challenge event with 20- and 30-mile route options and the normal brilliant LDWA organisation. My duties weren’t overly strenuous, just marshalling a couple of busy road crossings ensuring that everyone got across the road safely. Nothing hard about that, but it did get me out in the sunshine for most of the day, although it was a bit chilly early on, and I did get to say hello to lots of runners and walkers that I wouldn’t normally see. Marshalling duties completed, I trekked down to Lymington on Saturday afternoon ready for the weekends main event, the New Forest Excursion Audax. With a couple of hours to spare before bedtime I had an enjoyable evening wandering around the pretty little town and harbour area, before enjoying a pint sat in the evening sun. If anyone tells you that there’s no money floating around, then a short walk around Lymington harbour will probably convince you otherwise, with sailing boats, cruisers and speedboats of every shape and size bobbing happily at their moorings whilst their owners partake of the clubhouse.
Sunday dawned bright and sunny with a blustery East wind that had sprung up overnight doing its best to keep the temperature down, although lathering the sunblock on for the first time this year seemed prudent as I got ready.
Compared to last year there didn’t seem to be as many riders at the start, although I’ve seen worse turn outs. I guess that lots of people who would normally ride would have been off getting their 600km Paris – Brest – Paris qualifiers in, with this weekend being the first opportunity to do so. So maybe that was to be expected. It always seems to be a bit disappointing, not only for the riders but the organisers too, if numbers are down, and at the end of the day if we don’t support these events then they will just die out. Poor turnout or not, at 08:00 we were on our way, heading North out of Lymington bound for the far side of the New Forest at Cranborne. That Easterly wind wasn’t doing us any favours as we made our way North, with it being hard going on the more exposed areas. I use the term exposed areas loosely too, as from what I can tell not much of the New Forest is actually forested, the majority being windswept, open moorland, which left much of today’s route exposed to the full strength of the wind. A situation not helped by the fact that we would be heading pretty much North / South all day and with the wind coming from the east, it always seemed to be hampering progress! The wind’s all part of the game though and it only took a couple of hours to cover the 30 odd miles up to the familiar Audax stopping point at Cranborne garden centre.
From Cranborne it’s a course reversal to head back in the opposite direction aiming for the sea at Lepe. Back we go then, that Easterly wind still not helping but maybe more on your side than directly in front now.
Goldfinches flit from the hedgerows as I make my way down the narrow lanes out of Cranborne, the River Avon glints in the sunshine, the surrounding floodplain green and verdant with spring growth, as we cross it at Ibsley. Buttercups reaching for the sun protrude above the tops of the long grass and Cow parsley, the blooms white against the surrounding green stand tall on the verges. New forest ponies, many with foals in tow, graze peacefully at the roadside, disturbed only by the visitors who abandon their cars in the middle of the road to take photos. Semi wild cattle seek shelter from the sun amongst the forest trees, their owners exercising their rights as commoners to graze this land as their forefathers have done across the years. Approaching the coast, having crossed the forest for the second time, the smell of the sea fills my nostrils and soon after The Solent with the Isle of Wight in the background, springs into view. The beach is filled with day trippers making best use of the warm, sunny, day and the water itself is filled with boats of all description. Sailor’s sail, fishermen fish and jet skiers scream around making a nuisance of themselves, but in the spring sunshine all is right with the world.
A quick stop for some lunch in the salubrious surrounds of a Tesco car park and then onwards for the second crossing of the forest, and back into that wind again.
A few miles into the afternoon session my Right knee started playing up again (that’s the one that gave me issues at Brevet Cymru a couple of weeks back) and as the afternoon went on it was getting worse. I tried moving my position on the saddle to see if that made any difference, then I stopped and moved my cleats a bit to see if moving my feet made a difference, both to no avail. A couple more stops saw me move the cleats a couple more times, until I ended up back where I started from, none of which made any difference. There has to be a reason why this has suddenly started causing issues though, so my next thoughts turned to saddle height. The only problem being I didn’t have the right tools with me to move the saddle. Pondering the issue as I rode along, it dawned on me that putting a bit more tension on the leather of my saddle would probably raise my position by a few millimetres and whilst I didn’t have the tools with me to do that either I could get the same result by pulling the sides in, and all that needed was a bit of strong string. In fact, the farmers favourite, bailing twine, would be ideal and there’s always loads of that laying around in the countryside isn’t there. Not any more there isn’t! Bailing twine used to be everywhere. It held gates closed, it fixed barbed wire fences, it secured notices, it held farmers trousers up, and it even held hay bales together, but it would appear that that’s no longer the case. Or at least now that I wanted a bit, I couldn’t find any! Scouring the roadside as I peddled along, I finally spotted a bit of wire laying on the verge. Rolling to a stop I back tracked and doing my best tramp impression recovered my treasure. It was a bit stiff, but with a bit of fiddling I managed to pull the bit of wire through the holes in my saddle and tighten it up, effectively pulling the top of my saddle upwards and giving me a bit more height. And you know what, I’d probably only moved things up by a couple of millimetres, but the difference was instantly noticeable. I’m not saying it was an instant wonder cure, the damage had already been done, but what was looking like a ride stopping problem suddenly became manageable.
With my legs actually doing what they are supposed to do instead of screaming in protest at every pedal turn, the rest of the afternoon passed without drama. In fact, by 17:30 I was back at the start having crossed the forest and made my way back to the coast for the second time today.
As usual a hot brew, warm welcome and enough cake to feed an army awaited my return at the finish control and whilst the ride organiser checked and stamped my Brevet card, I duly returned the favour by testing a couple of bits of cake and a rather delicious bowl of Chilli and pasta and can assure you that they all passed muster, in fact the ginger cake was almost good enough to tempt me back for another go at what is a delightful ride, through some lovely countryside, again next year.
After my minor success in fixing my knee issues I’ve had a better look at the saddle situation and I’m hopeful that a slight change of height may prevent any more knee problems. I haven’t got anything on next weekend (bank holiday), apart from a million odd jobs that need doing and I really need to sort the allotment out, but hopefully that will give me the chance to get out from home on the bike a few times and I’ll take the tools with me and have a play with saddle height and see what happens.
Watch this space and once I work out what’s going on I’ll report back. I’m having a bit of a struggle at the moment and I really don’t know why. Well, actually that’s a lie, I do know why, which I’ll get onto in a minute, but first I seem to have got behind on the blog front again. Normally, I sit down and the words just flow, but recently it’s seemed like a chore and not the cathartic experience that it normally is. I normally seem to have something worthy of talking about, or some observation that’s worth mentioning and recording for prosperity, but at the moment it’s like getting blood out of a stone. You would think that the hard ones would be the weeks when I’ve not been up to much, or nothing interesting has happened, but that’s not the case. Last week's post is a fine example. I had a brilliant time playing bikes at Brevet Cymru but getting that down on paper was like pushing water uphill, surely the words should just flow, but no! I suspect that it doesn’t help that I’m really struggling for motivation at the moment, and I don’t know why that is either, although I suspect my ongoing knee issues and the miserable weather aren’t helping. No that that should be holding me back, springs here, summers on its way, yet I’m about as enthused as a dead slug (and I wish there were a few more of those around). The weather for the last couple of weeks has been awful too, the Saturday of the Coronation saw rain all day and the Bank holiday Monday wasn’t much better, plus I think I’ve got wet on the work commute more times in May than I did over the entire winter months, what’s that all about? The endless rain’s not helping on the Allotment front either. Normally by this time of year, the plot would be dug and most stuff would be planted out and enjoying the Spring sunshine. At the moment though it’s just a waterlogged mud bath that’s far too wet to dig, and the lack of sunshine means that everything's just sat in the greenhouse feeling sorry for itself (a bit like me). I suspect that my ongoing Knee problems are the root cause of my lack of enthusiasm. I’ve made enough of a song and dance about the left one (which has been ongoing for a couple of months and I’m seeing the Physio about), but the right one causing problems during Brevet Cymru was another knock to my confidence and another set back, although it seems to have recovered fairly well, so I’ve got my fingers crossed that, that was only a temporary setback. I’m still not running though and it’s getting to the point now where it’s incredibly frustrating and there seems to be no end in sight. Unlike most of the population I want to run, but I can’t, and I know that as the weeks go on it will get harder and harder to get back to the same level of fitness that I had before (and maybe impossible) which is somewhat depressing. If I can’t run and my knees hurt from cycling then what's the point? That doesn't mean that I haven’t been doing anything though, far from it. Whilst I haven't been running or cycling for the past couple of weekends (apart from the daily 22 mile work commute by bike) I have been trying to keep myself busy. So in an attempt to avoid boring you all to death, and to make my life easier, let’s catch up the last 2 weeks of pottering around and I promise that normal service should resume next week (if nothing else I’m determined to stop being a miserable so and so and get out there and start enjoying myself again). So, in no particular order, over the last 2 weekends, amongst other things I’ve; Here's an easy one to start with, or it should have been an easy one; A few weeks back "The Emma" said that the horn on her Peugeot had stopped working and could I have a look. I had a look and the wires had corroded through at the plug, that should be a quick 2 minute fix. But hold on with your quick fix, nothings that simple. To get at the plug the bumper needs to come off, but to get the bumper off the grilles got to come off, and to get the grille off the headlights have to come out, and to get the headlights out ............ Well you get the idea. While the bumper was off I also fixed the Cooling fan high speed relay, which likewise had corroded into a green mess, and while there's no pictures of any of that lot, there are a couple of the next issue. It's pretty rare that I drive Emma's cars (normally only when they need fixing) so I was somewhat surprised to find that on starting the "Pug" to move it round to the garage, that it sounded like a bag of spanners falling down a lift shaft. I asked "The Emma" how long it had sounded like that and she said "A couple of weeks, it's getting worse though". Closer inspection showed that the auxiliary drive belt was only half on the tensioner and the tensioner looked like it was about to fail completely. A pretty easy fix once you get out every tool you own, and take the wheel, arch liner, and bottom pulley off. An easy enough fix for a Sunday morning, but it's always good to know that the horn not working is worthy of immediate repair, but the sounds of impending engine failure from under the bonnet don't warrant a mention in "The Emmas" world of driving! The front lawns been a bit of an ongoing project for the last few weeks. It's never had much grass, it's just weeds and moss, which whilst it looks awful, does mean that it doesn't need mowing very often. For some unknown reason I decided that I'd had enough of Moss and weeds though and I'd do something about it this year, starting a month or so back with a good sprinkling of Moss killer. That's been followed up over the past month or so with multiple goings over with the lawn rake which did a really good job of pulling up the moss and revealing how little grass there actually was. So this weekend I've marched up and down stabbing the ground to death with a fork (and ruining my wrists) to get a bit of aeration going, filled in all the holes with topsoil, and generally levelled it out a bit and re-sown it. With lots of nice shade tolerant grass seed. Which no doubt means that it'll never rain again and all my efforts will have been a waste of time and we will have to live with a bare mud front garden until the autumn! This next ones a bit of a setback; A couple of months ago I noticed that the ceiling trim next to the sliding door on the van was damp. Now, the door runner, which is attached to the van roof, is the only part of the entire living area which isn't insulated (because it's impossible) and as such it tends to be where the condensation gathers on a cold day. Armed with this information, I assumed that condensation dripping off the door rail and catching on the ceiling trim was the issue. So I dried it out and started watching it a bit more closely. Roll on a few more weeks and it was actually wet, not just damp. So I took the trim piece out for a better look, dried everything out again, and left it out for a better look. Whilst it was in bits I took the door seals off and cleaned then too, just in case water was getting in through the door seal. I left the trim off for a couple of weeks and couldn't find any issues and everything seemed dry, so I put it back together again, and it was fine for a few weeks. Fine that is until a couple of weeks ago when after sitting unused for a couple of weeks there was actually a small puddle on the floor and the trim was dripping wet! I still wasn't convinced it wasn't condensation, as I couldn't see any way for water to be getting in there. The ceiling was dry to the touch, the area where the insulation meets the door rail felt dry and the only other place water could be getting in was around the skylight, but that also appeared to be dry. Any way, last weekend it was wet again, so I finally bit the bullet and started removing things to get a better look. Cutting a long story short, the sealant around the front left corner of the skylight had given way and during heavy rain water was finding it's way between the skylight and structure. From there it was running down the opening and then tracking under the bottom layer of insulation to come out above the door rail. Why it couldn't have just found it's way down the edge of the skylight I don't know, because if that was the case, which would have been the path of least resistance, I'd have found the problem ages ago and done something about it. Now if you've read "the van plan" you'll know that the roof light and ceiling were the first things to get fitted! Que one nightmare trying to get enough room to take the roof light out to reseal it and then refit the ceiling, once it and all the insulation, had dried out. I got there in the end though and only time will tell if it's successful. Whilst I was there I did notice a minor design flaw on my part, which could have played a part in the water ingress, where I'd joined the roof light support on a corner. So I've redesigned and remade that while I was at it, which will hopefully help, and I've added extra sealing to the cut out in the hope that if it does leak again the water will drip off the roof light opening and not track elsewhere, giving me a better chance of catching future problems before they happen. A wet Saturday morning resulted in a few bottles of Chilli oil (made with home grown Chillies which have been drying in the airing cupboard all winter), which can get put away to mature. And a few jars of "Mymalade" "It's just marmalade but made by me". Obviously, despite the weather doing it's best to hold back progress there's been plenty going on in the garden and on the allotment too. While I'm pottering around fixing stuff, I've been watching the coolant on my "Bangernomics" run around for a few months. When I got it in December 2021 the coolant reservoir looked pretty oily (never a very good sign) although I don't remember there actually being any oil in the coolant, but it had just had a new radiator, so the coolant would have been drained for that! Anyway, at the time I serviced it and changed the coolant and gave the reservoir a clean out and thought I'd see what happened. A year later and the reservoir's oily again and there's been a small amount of oil into the coolant (there's an oil and water passage in close proximity at the head gasket and leaking across is a common fault). Now, I know it's probably leaking, but I don't really want to pull the head off if I can help it. So before I do that, lets reset to a known good point and see how much it is actually leaking. To that end then, it's had a good dose of cleaning fluid through the coolant system, followed by a really good wash out, and before refilling it I cleaned the reservoir out again. Obviously now I know it's definitely clean (something I couldn't guarantee when I got it) I can see what happens over the next few weeks / months. If it really oils up again, then I'll change the head gasket while the weathers good, but if I think I can live with it, maybe with regular coolant changes, then I think that's the best option. At the end of the day it's only a run around so it's hardly worth spending the time and money on. While I was pottering around I also changed the rocker cover and seal for one that I got from the "scrappy" and refurbished (cover that is, not the seal, that's new). As they say "a shiny engine is a happy engine" and that looks much better than the rusty, leaky one that was there. Next up, a Sofa story; When "The Emma" and I first moved in together one of the first things we bought was a Sofa, and while we waited for it to be delivered (8 weeks) we sat on 2 inflatable camping chairs - Happy days. Roll on 16 years and 3 house moves later, that Sofa is starting to show it's age. It was still clean and tidy, but it was a bit low for my old back, and one of the springs had gone (It's had a plank of MDF under the cushions for about 2 years to make it a bit firmer) and the time for a replacement was fast approaching. Wasting a Sunday that could have been far better spent, trawling round furniture showrooms and fighting off useless salesmen, finally resulted in an acceptable replacement which was for delivery this week. The first problem was what to do with the old one? I asked around at work in case anyone wanted it, to no avail, so we stuck it on Market Place and Gumtree for free, but had no takers, which is a shame because it would probably have served someone well for a couple of years. Instead, it had to meet it's maker so I took the big hammer to it and took it to the tip. I'd have taken it in one piece but it was a bit unwieldy to move on my own. Now, when we ordered the new sofa, the nice salesperson said "The feet on all these sofas are a bit rubbish. But we can sell you some different ones for £50 a set". H'mmm let me think about this for a few seconds said I. How about "No". She was right though, the feet on the new sofa are a bit rubbish. They're rubbish as they're really small so all that's going to happen is they're going to sink into our new plush carpet and deep underlay and that'll be the sofa immovable and the carpet and underlay left with great big divots where the sofa sits. What they really need is some £50 feet that are a bit wider to spread the load a bit and stop them sinking into the carpet. And I'm sure I've seen some tucked away somewhere. And there we go. 8 load spreaders for the sofa feet to stop them sinking into the new carpet. Total cost, half an hour of my time, a couple of pounds worth of scrap plywood and thousands of pounds worth of tools (but we'll ignore that). Either way it's still £100 in my pocket and not the furniture salespersons! and as they're going under the sofa they'll never be seen again. And one last one before I go. I think I might have mentioned these a few weeks ago, but after the success of the first set, I've since fixed some more. Shimano rear derailleurs (were talking bike stuff now) come as standard with sprockets that run on pins and bushes (no bearings fitted), which is fine. However, as it's just a metal on metal bush they tend to wear, and as they wear the float and general sloppiness increases and the gear shifting starts to suffer. Obviously, you can get Shimano replacements, but a cost effective option is to upgrade to non OEM parts with roller bearings, which seems to result in crisper and improved shifting across the board. And anything you can do to make life a bit better when your 300Km into a 400 Km Audax, it's dark and raining, and you've already changed gear approximately a million times, is a plus in my book. The roller bearings come with their own issues though. Eventually water and dirt gets past the seals and the bearings jam up. I seem to get at least a year, if not two, of all weather riding out of a set of sprockets, but for the sake of a £2 of bearings you end up throwing £20 of sprockets away. Or is there another option? The first set of these that I changed the bearings on have done over 1000 miles now with no problems and I've just done the set on my work bike (and a spare set too) so we'll see how they hold up.
I don't know how many times I'll get away with pressing new bearings in before the plastic sprocket deforms or splits, but even if it's only once, it's bought a new lease of life to an allegedly un-fixable, disposable, part, and that's a plus in my book. Things really don’t seem to be going quite to plan at the moment, something which I’m desperately hoping and praying will be a temporary glitch and not a permanent change! This weekend I was supposed to be riding the 3 Down 300Km Audax on Saturday, but pulled out at the last minute (which is something I truly hate doing). I was all set to ride mid-week, but as the week went on my enthusiasm waned somewhat, and it wasn’t exactly high before (see last weeks blog for my tales of misery). Looking at the weather forecast midweek, Friday and Saturday were looking pretty grim, with long periods of rain and windy conditions forecast, a situation which did little for my enthusiasm or morale. Holding off on making a decision regarding my weekend plans, I got wet cycling into work and back on Thursday and Friday, and checking every weather app on Friday afternoon, things weren’t looking any better for Saturday. Now a bit of rain wouldn’t normally put me off, I’m normally more than happy to get wet, it’s all part of the adventure. But on top of the weather, my knee really isn’t right, and as I mentioned last week, my heads really not in it at the moment. My knees playing on my mind, and do I really want to make things any worse? 15-20 hours on the bike is a big ask at the best of times. Add in what looked like at least the first 5 hours being wet and miserable, and the risk of making my knees even worse than they already are, it should have been an easy decision to make. But it wasn’t! I had a chat with “The Emma”, I checked the forecast multiple times, and I looked out the window numerous times at the teeming rain. But things didn’t look like they were going to get any better. Eventually, reluctantly, I made my decision. There wasn’t much point in slogging all the way to the start if I was just going to be miserable, wet, and not enjoy myself. I might as well stay at home and do something useful and less taxing with my time. Decision made, that didn’t stop me from almost changing my mind after tea and heading out anyway just in case the weather got better. But eventually sense prevailed and I settled in for a weekend at home. My decision appeared to have been vindicated Saturday morning when I work up to yet more rain, a situation which continued all morning, before it finally stopped, and the afternoon brightened up a bit after lunch. That would still have been 5 or 6 hours of being rained on though, and even after it stopped the roads were still flooded with lots of surface water about. My easy weekend hasn’t helped my knees though. As, despite not playing out all weekend, they are both really sore, especially the left one which seems to be the main protagonist. Hopefully a few more weeks of not running and a few days off the bike over Easter will improve that situation and we can soon get back to normal, but for now things aren’t looking great. But I suppose that means than on the positive side, things can only get better. Being at home all weekend did mean that I got a few hours in on the allotment on Sunday morning. Not that I got much done as the ground is absolutely saturated. There are lots of little signs that better days are on their way though. Most of the seeds that I sowed in the greenhouse on the 18th March have germinated (Sprouts, Cabbages, Kale, Leeks, Peas, Sweet peas, Amaranthus, Marigolds, and a few other things that escape me at the moment). Likewise, there’s lots of new growth in the gardens, with Polyanthus in full bloom complementing the Hyacinths and last of the Daffodils, and all of the fruit trees in full bud and about to burst into leaf. The Chillies, Tomatoes, Geraniums, and Petunias that I sowed in pots on the bedroom windowsill have all germinated in the last few days too, so things are certainly looking up! Now that the admin is out of the way, I've explained why I wasn't doing what I was supposed to be doing, and pottered around on the allotment for a bit, there was still a big chunk of weekend that needed filling. Luckily this little lot arrived on Thursday, which should keep me occupied for a while! Giant toilet rolls? Nope, carpet and lots of it. I've hinted a couple of times that I had plans for my Easter break and this is one of them (and the biggest) and as I've not been out to play, I might as well make myself productive and get on with it. Now, before I even start on this one I'm going to say 4 things. Firstly, I've never laid a carpet before. No actually that's a lie, I did the small bedroom and the bathroom in the first house I renovated many years ago (back in the days when foam backed carpet was a thing), and it didn't quite go to plan. The bathroom was the first room I ever did and I thought this looks easy, I'll take the old bit out, lay them on top of each other, use that as a pattern, and as that fitted then so will my new one. And indeed it would have done, if I hadn't put them back to back, resulting in a perfect mirror image in my nice new bit of carpet! Lesson learned from that one, the replacement, replacement, went much better and the spare bedroom turned out just fine. Since then, I've done plenty of Lino, loads of laminate flooring (we'll ignore the time I helped a good friend laminate their entire downstairs over a weekend only to discover a few days later that the lump in the middle of the lounge floor was a pencil that we'd lost on day one. Que the next weekend taking most of it back up again to recover said pencil) and they all turned out fine. So why not take on re-carpeting the entire house! Secondly, as far as I can see, the worst bit about fitting new carpets is that you've got to empty the room out. That means unloading all the cupboards, packing away all the nick knacks, and disturbing all the spiders that hide behind the sofa. You've then got to put it all back again. In which case, I'm going to do all the really unpleasant bit, then pay someone loads of money to pitch up and do what should be the easy bit, while I put it all back again! And I've got to do it all to their timescales! Which sounds a bit rubbish to me. Thirdly, If I pay someone else to do the job then it tends to get done to their standards and not mine, and at the lowest cost possible. And, as we'll see in a minute, all they're going to do is bang some more carpet down on top of whatever mess is underneath. Which appears to be exactly what whichever professional that laid the current one here did, where the underlay appears to have been made up from a million salvaged off cuts, with all the joins in the highest traffic areas, which probably explains why it's worn so poorly and why the underlay moves around all the time! And please don't take that last paragraph as a slur against all the highly skilled and professional tradesmen out there. It's just the reality of life. As a consumer we all want stuff doing at the lowest price, and if your carpet fitter came in and said "I can do a really good job, but it'll take 2 days and cost XXXX amount" and his mate said "I can do it in a day for half that" you know who's going to be out of business pretty sharpish! So we're our own worst enemies on this one. And finally, everyone we've spoken too, apart from the nice man that delivered the carpet, has said, "Oh, I wouldn't want to do that". Surprisingly though (or maybe not), when you ask them why, the only answers you get are the age old "Well, it looks difficult", "What if you mess it up", and "It looks like hard work". Which I'll counter with, "If it was easy it wouldn't be a challenge, and how do you know it's difficult if you've never done it"? I'm pretty sure that getting to the moon was pretty tricky, but JFK didn't say "Were not going to the moon because it looks a bit difficult" did he! Likewise, if I mess it up (which I won't, but if I do I'll be sure to let you all know), then I'll just get another bit of carpet and still be quid's in on the cost of getting someone else to fit it. And finally, yes it might be hard work, but I'm not afraid of hard work and besides, imagine the sense of satisfaction I'm going to have when I sit down at the end of the job and can say "I did that". I don't tend to blow my own trumpet much (apart from every week here) but when I wander around at home or in the garden and allotment and my eye falls on the things I've made or built it's immensely satisfying, and this is just another little job that'll hopefully be the same. So for a starters lets pull the carpet off the stairs and hallway. Then I can A) Have a look at what were up against. B) Paint the edges and skirting boards before the new carpet goes down and C) Hopefully fix some of the creaks on the stairs. But what's this I spy, hidden under the carpet? I'm hoping that it's historic settlement, where the floor slab has pulled away from the wall at some point in the past, (there doesn't appear to be any other signs of movement, and there's no cracking to the wall's so I'm hoping that it's not structural). Either way we need to do something about it! And that'll do for this weekend, I'll get some paint on the skirting boards and stairs in the week, which will get us a jump ahead, and then make a start on the lounge carpet which is the biggest one and has the most stuff in the way.
Were off to a start though and any progress is good progress in my book.
Good news everyone, apparently, it’s the start of Spring, both meteorologicaly and calendar wise, which means things will continue getting better on a daily basis from here on in. Obviously, that’s ignoring the almost traditional snow at Easter, April’s torrential showers, the endless gales that tend to blow through April which strip all the fruit blossom off my fruit trees, and a last-minute late frost in May which will kill everything that’s trying to grow on the allotment.
No of course not, it’s all going to be plain sailing from here on in, and to that end this weekend I’ve managed to sun burn the bald bits on my head and enjoy some unseasonably warm moments on the allotment. OK I’ll admit that it was only really warm in the greenhouse, but why let the truth overshadow a good news story. So, what have I been up too this weekend then? Well, for a start as I mentioned above, I had a few hours on the allotment on Saturday afternoon, mainly spent in the greenhouse alternating between hiding from the showers and slowly roasting when the sun came out. It’s all or nothing this time of the year! A couple of hours pottering around saw the greenhouse staging re-erected, although if I’m honest I’m not sure how much longer it’s going to last. I made this set of staging when I got my first greenhouse back in 2002 and considering that it spends all summer outside and the rest of the year in a damp greenhouse it’s lasted pretty well. It’s getting a bit rickety now though and I think it’s time that I made a new set before this lot totally collapses and takes everything else with it, that’s not going to happen any time soon though. Maybe a job for next winter! Anyway, staging aside, those couple of hours were pretty productive and I managed to sow, Sweet Peas, Cabbages, Sprouts, Kale, early Carrots, early Peas, Nicotonia and Broad Beans in trays in the greenhouse and get some Shallot sets into the ground outside too, all of which join the Chillies, Geraniums and Petunias that got started in a propagator on a warm windowsill at home midweek. There’s still a long way to go until the hazy days of summer, but those first signs of new growth are coming thick and fast. The new Rhubarb crowns and Raspberry plants that I bought and planted at the back end of last year are all showing signs of new growth, although the Blackberries that I got at the same time don’t seem to be up to much. All of the established fruit bushes have lots of buds on them, and I noticed that the fruit trees at home look like they’re about to burst back into life too. Likewise, the daffodils are in full bloom and the Polyanthus are adding their splash of colour to the gardens along with the Crocuses, although the wallflowers seem to have succumbed to the really cold spell we had earlier in the year which is unusual. You can’t win them all though and that’s part of the fun of gardening (allegedly).
Odd jobs, bike cleaning and the misery of shopping wrapped up, along with getting things off to a start on the allotment, left the rest of the weekend to the main event. The Cerne Giant 30 Mile Challenge event, another of the LDWA’s showcase challenge events, starting and finishing in the picturesque village of Cerne Abbas, deep in the Dorset countryside.
Before I get into the roots of the event itself, I just need to comment on the dark! Having taken the van down on Saturday night ready for an early start on Sunday, I found a nice quiet little spot in the middle of nowhere for the night. The rain had cleared leaving a clear sky and without the light pollution that I’m used to coming from the metropolis of Basingstoke, I was treated to an almost idyllic night sky. Warm enough to sit outside with a brew, I spent a good few minutes gazing up in awe at the brightness and clarity of the night sky. I’m no star gazer, but without the light pollution we normally live with there were stars aplenty to admire, it’s just such a shame that we can’t normally see them against the background of streetlights! Sunday morning, just as the sun started to brighten the night sky, I was treated to the sound of new born lambs coming from the field opposite my parking spot, and birdsong from the trees behind, as I lay in bed thinking about waking up. Idyllic! Peering outside once I’d had a brew, it looked pretty idyllic too, the sun was shining, the ground was wet from yesterday’s rain, the lambs were frolicking in the fields, Daffodils shone brightly in the morning sun, and everything looked good with the world. With the sun quickly warming the morning it wasn’t hard to make the decision to abandon the running tights and thermal top that have been my faithful companion through the long winter days in favour of shorts and a lighter top, thin gloves, and not much else. Walking down to the start with the fresh air blowing round my ankles which have been hidden for so long was refreshing and reminded me of those summer days still to come, although I carefully packed some long trousers and a jacket into my running pack just in case. Better to lug extra clothes round for 30 miles then get caught out and suffer!
Booking in and collecting my route card was a slickly organised affair and after a few minutes making final adjustments to my kit, then doing it again once I’d realised that I was still wearing my glasses which needed packing too, I was ready for the off at just after 08:30.
I’ve probably mentioned before that LDWA challenge events are a bit like Audax in that you have to prove proof of passing through the relevant checkpoints within a certain time frame. As we all walk at different speeds (it is supposed to be a walking event at the end of the day) checkpoints open and close to suit the pace of fast and slower walkers, and as such, as a runner it’s possible to get in front of the checkpoint opening times, resulting in standing around waiting to get timestamped for your proof of passage. To that end it makes sense to depart towards the end of the start time window, giving the walkers a head start and slowly catching them up as the day progresses. A final few words with the lovely volunteer checking us out, and I was off into the unknown. Unusually, nervous butterflies played with my mind as I set off. Having not run all week due to my knees being sore and painful, there’s always the feeling that today might not be my day and should I actually start? (Not that a week’s rest made any difference, but I set off regardless knowing that I could always pull out or cut the day short if needed). The weeks rain had left the first few miles along well-trodden footpaths, muddy and slippery underfoot, but with the sun shining and the route soon climbing steeply away from the valley floor onto drier ground I was in my element. Within the first few miles any worries about my knees had rescinded to the back of my mind (although running probably wasn’t the best idea as they’re stiff and sore today) and I soon settled into an easy pace, taking the time to ensure my head was up taking in the views.
Those first few miles fairly flew by, and bar a short diversion where I missed a turning and everyone behind followed me, it wasn’t long before the first checkpoint at Lyscombe hove into view. This is the real beauty of these LDWA events, I’d never in a million years have found this idyllic little spot with its 12th century chapel and ruined cottages. But the local knowledge of the organisers had ensured its inclusion for today’s route and all of the LDWA events which I’ve been to have done a fabulous job of showcasing the hidden gems in their locality, which makes travelling just that little bit further than I normally would worthwhile.
I can’t stand around sightseeing all day though, there’s still a lot of miles to cover before the day is done and it’s straight back up hill as the route climbs back out from the shelter of the valley.
Steep sided valleys, with picturesque villages sheltering from the wind and weather at the bottom provide a welcome distraction from the miles ahead. The long steep climbs are rewarded by outstanding views across miles of countryside from the high points. Sheep, some with lambs in tow graze on the grassland as they have since man first tamed this wild countryside, shaping the terrain and vegetation with their endless grazing. Crystal clear streams transport rainwater from the hill tops on its way to the sea. Bird song fills the wooded areas where Catkins adorn the trees and signs of new life are starting to burst from the undergrowth. Yet the winds still got an icy edge to it when it catches you on the hilltops, or as it whistles down the valleys, reminding us that winters not quite done with us yet. Taking no notice of that chilly wind, Skylarks sing from the grassland, competing with the sound of farmers going about their business, ploughing, seeding, and checking on their sheep, making ready for the start of another productive year. And slowly the miles tick down. Proof of passage in the form of a self-administered clip mark on my route card at Binghams Melcombe. The marker hanging neatly from the post-box as the route sheet said it would, accompanied by a polite note informing the inquisitive of its purpose and requesting it remain in place to be collected at days end by the tail marker. And then onwards to the next stop at Buckland Newton. And what a stop it is, the lovely volunteers have outdone themselves. Trestle tables groan under the weight of homemade sandwiches and delicious cakes, whilst a friendly voice asks if they can get you anything, water, tea, squash, cake, biscuits, nothing is too much trouble, and it’s with a heavy heart and full stomach that I have to tear myself away from this little haven of British hospitality and generosity, to push on.
Moving on as the morning turns towards afternoon, the sun continues to shine slowly burning my exposed head, and all remains good in the world. Despite the mounting miles my knees seem to be holding up, and I feel like I’m still moving fairly well. In fact, I must be doing OK as when we re-join the 20-mile route I’m steadily catching and slowly passing those in front that have taken the shorter of the day’s options.
Slowly the miles tick down until I approach the final checkpoint at Sydling St Nicholas where the GPS route that I’ve been following takes me away from the quiet stretch of road that had been leading the way into town and onto a footpath beside a stream, which then becomes a dead end. At which point my GPS indicates that I’m off route? Retracing my steps, whilst looking confusingly at the little screen, I come across the two runners who were just behind, who are also looking confusedly at various GPS implements. Retracing our steps back to the road it looks like the road will take us to the next checkpoint anyway, so we set off that way. A few minutes lost, but that’s not a major problem in the big scheme of things, and a nice lady, busy tending her front garden, soon confirms that the village hall we are aiming for is indeed just down the road, so we push slowly on to the final checkpoint and another warm welcome. Cards scanned and clipped, confirming attendance and proof of passage, I refill my water bottle, grab a slice of cake from the delightful spread and a handful of salty crisps and push on, devouring my tasty treats as I work my way back up the next climb, as the guys I’d arrived at the checkpoint with slowly extended their lead as they pull away up the hill.
It shouldn’t be much further now and that’s confirmed as I slog up another steep incline with rapidly tiring legs and come up behind a smartly dressed gentleman, complete with Tyrolean hat and walking poles out making the most of the spring sunshine. Slowing my ascent to say “good afternoon”, he enquires after my destination and then informs me that it’s almost all downhill from here.
It’s with a lightened heart at that bit of good news that I bid him farewell and push on, ready to enjoy those last few miles of glorious downhill which he’s promised me. 20 minutes and 2 miles later and I’m still slogging uphill. Granted it’s not that steep, but with 28 miles in my legs it’s hard work. Why - oh – why did I believe that nice gentleman with his promise of it being all downhill! There’s even a great big aerial which I can see at the top signifying that the next turning point must be the highest point around! Eventually, I arrive at the top and instantly start the promised descent. This isn’t much better through as my tired leg muscles scream in protest at having to try and slow my descent down the steep slope and my feet struggle for grip on the greasy, muddy, slippery, surface.
One more small climb, and then around the next corner, confirmation that the ends not far away, as the Cerne Giant, looking resplendent in the sunshine, fills the view, with the village of Cerne Abbas and the days final destination nestled in the valley off to the Right hand side.
And that’s it, another mile and the days done. I’m back at the start with 31.8 miles covered in 6 hours and 15 minutes, to a warm welcome, a plate of delicious bean stew and a bowl of rice pudding. As far as I’m concerned you can keep you medals, commemorative T shirts, route marked courses and goody bags. I’ll take a beautiful route, a warm welcome, a slice of home-made cake and a bowl of rice pudding any day thank you. There’s no doubt about it the LDWA certainly know how to put on an event, and I can’t wait to come back and do this one again!
And just before I go, it was "The Emmas" birthday last week. Can you guess how old she is?
Another week gone and another step closer to spring, not that it feels like it this week, but we must be getting closer as there’s lots of Daffodils in full bloom and I notice that the Roses and Clematis in the garden have got fresh growth on them, so it must be getting warmer, even if were having a bit of a relapse this week.
The days are drawing out too. It’s just about light when I set off on my daily commute to work now and it’s still light gone 18:00 which means there’s a bit more time for getting out and about and sorting out all those jobs at home that I’ve been avoiding all winter. Having mentioned it last week, I finally got my seed order for the allotment and gardens in last week too, which arrived at the start of the week. I’m starting to think that I might have overdone it a bit though. It all looks so tempting when you’re flicking through seed catalogues on a dull winters evening and there’s so much promise in all those little packets. I’ll give it another week or so for the current cold snap to end and then it’ll be time to start getting the greenhouse ready and sowing seeds. I really can’t wait!
All that’s to come yet though, so more importantly what have I been up to this weekend? Well, for starters you’ll be pleased to know that the little Bangernomics Peugeot passed its MOT with flying colours, which makes the bit of work I did on the brakes worthwhile. On the downside, the possible head gasket leak that I’ve been monitoring for a while looks like a definite case and will need some attention in the very near future.
When I mentioned it to “The Emma” the other day she said, “That’ll give you a nice little project to think about then” and I suppose she’s right. I don’t like making work for the fun of it, but I do like something to get my teeth into and even more so if it makes me think a bit. Hopefully it’ll limp on until the weather warms up a bit but watch this space for a bit more car tinkering at some point in the future! Sunday saw my now annual outing to the Steyning Stinger, a cheeky little marathon length romp up onto the South Downs, by way of a couple of cheeky little climbs, and to that end I loaded up the van on Friday evening and set off into the unknown, planning on a bit of cycling Saturday morning and a quick visit to “Kathryn Stinks” for tea on Saturday evening before the running fun on Sunday. With Saturday dawning overcast and cold, but dry, I managed to get in a few miles (67 to be precise) to add to the years tally. Nothing special, or overly taxing, but it was a nice little route along quiet county lanes, all of which were well adorned with Catkins dangling magnificently from the roadside Hazels, and the odd spattering of wild daffodils and Snowdrops all standing proud against the chilly wind. Sunday looked even better weather wise and after a quiet night I was up bright and early, ready for an 07:30 Marathon start. As I mentioned earlier, this is a run that I’ve done a couple of times now (2020, 2022) and I’m pretty sure that this is the best weather I’ve had so far. Previous years it’s been windy or misty, or both, but this year was just about ideal running conditions, and a distinct lack of mud, making for some predictably fast times (not from me though!). It’s a lovely route too, despite those couple of ferocious ascents to get up onto the South Downs ridge line, the views from the top more than make up for the effort of getting up there though!
Unfortunately, I haven’t got much to say about the actual run, which is probably a good thing. Taking it slow and steady I didn’t push particularly hard and must admit that I probably enjoyed myself more than those previous times.
The slightly slower pace left time to take in the views and enjoy the running, instead of constantly clock watching and fretting about the odd lost second here and there. And with it being pretty much ideal conditions, I know that I can’t compete with the fast guys (especially not having put 60 miles into my legs yesterday on top of a full week’s training) so why punish myself for a fast time? There’s a time and a place for that lark and this wasn’t it. That’s not to say that I spent the morning dawdling along. Somehow, I still managed to cross the line in 4:03, which considering the terrain, is a time that I’m more than happy with. Yes, it’s not the fastest I’ve ever run, in fact I’ve done the same route 20 minutes faster previously, but as I said before, I certainly enjoyed this year’s more than those fast ones. And to top it all off, the customary cooked breakfast at the end tasted just as good!
Hopefully you will all be pleased to know that I’ve survived my brush with death courtesy of the "Lurgy" last week and I’m still alive. OK, so I exaggerate a bit, but I’m not ill very often, so I’m not very good at it, plus I’m a man so even a sniffle puts me at deaths door.
I’ll admit that it did take the wind out of my sails though, and I had to have a couple of days off work at the start of last week. When I did go back in on Wednesday I still didn’t feel strong enough to cycle in, so I drove, neatly spoiling my run of cycling or running to work every day for nearly 2 years! By Thursday I was back on the bike though and I even managed a short run Friday lunchtime in addition to cycling into work and back, so I must have been feeling better. Saturday I had planned on getting out for a few bike miles in the morning, but having listened to the wind howling round the house for most of the night and been greeted by some pretty ferocious wind when I got up, I decided that maybe I needed another recovery day to fully get over my weakened state. So I went to the allotment instead, where I spent most of the day pottering around cutting back the hedge that borders my plot and generally tidying up. Whilst it might not have been the most productive of days they were all jobs which needed doing and it puts me one step closer to being ready for the start of the new growing season in a few weeks’ time (which reminds me that I must get my backside in gear and get my seed order in). With the forecast looking significantly better for Sunday, I decided that I was going to have to make better use of my time, and with the small matter of the missed Punchbowl Marathon and my ongoing Marathon a Month attempt to keep on top of I decided that I’d head down that way and see how well recovered I actually was and look at getting in some proper miles. To that end I headed down to Elstead after tea on Saturday night for a cosy night in the van, ready for an early start on Sunday morning, the plan being to make the most of the promised weather and run what I could of the Punchbowl Marathon route, all be it a week late!
Sunday dawned bright and dry with no real wind and I was out picking up the planned route just before 08:00. With our friends at the LDWA keeping things fresh and interesting there had been a few route changes since last years event and after crossing the River Wey for the first time as I left Elstead there was plenty to keep me occupied as I made my way anti clockwise around the route heading towards Tilford.
Although I wasn’t feeling particularly strong, the sun was shining brightly from a near cloudless sky, the day was warm and still and with the birds singing, the snowdrops brightening the banks and hedgerows, and the squirrels searching for their cached supplies in the sandy soil alongside the route I was having a great morning and making steady, if slow, progress.
Plodding steadily on in the early morning sun I soon reached the 10 mile mark, signifying a 1/3rd of the days planned distance, but I wasn’t feeling as strong as I should have at this point and it was becoming clear, even at this early stage, that I wasn’t likely to be able to run the full distance.
A chocolate bar and brief pause just outside of Tilford whilst I investigated a small cave and some Second World War gun emplacements helped and provided a welcome distraction, but my mind was already considering my options, and as we've seen plenty of times before, when the mental game is lost then so is the day! Tilford came and went, along with the 13 mile mark for the day, and whilst slowing I was still running, all be it slowly, but my mind and body just wasn’t in it. I was still tired and lethargic from my recent brush with sickness and maybe I was trying to do too much too soon. But, most importantly, the sun was still shining and I was still enjoying myself. Reconsidering my options, I came to an agreement with myself that if I could carry on running to Frensham Common with it’s pretty ponds and sailing boats at the 16 mile mark, then I’d slow down and just walk the remainder. Granted it would be a long walk, but it was a nice day and as I said above, I was still enjoying myself.
Arriving at Frensham Common I knew the game was up for the day! My mind had fully bought into the idea of plan B and there was no point in trying to convince it otherwise. Slowing to a walk I spent a few minutes watching the boats on the clear blue water and getting some calories on board, before pulling on my jacket and long trousers which I’d sensibly packed for just such an occasion and heading off again at walking pace.
Walking alongside the pond as I made my way steadily onwards it felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I pushed on with a newfound spring in my step. With no requirement to watch my footing quite so closely and the navigation easier at walking pace there was more time to look around. With my head up and jacket undone enjoying the warmth of the day, I started noticing the little things that you miss, or certainly pay no attention to, when your running. The old couple with a full loaf of bread feeding the ducks next to the large sign saying “Don’t feed the ducks bread it’s bad for them”, the young couple walking slowly hand in hand in the winter sun, the families out for a Sunday morning stroll, dogs and kids in tow, building up an appetite for Sunday lunch in a local hostilely, the birds signing from the tree tops, last summer’s leaves, now discarded by the trees, crunching underfoot as you progress and the thousand and one other things that your aware of, but pay no notice to when you pushing on. Plodding slowly on I stopped briefly at the 20-mile mark and sat on a fallen tree eating a sandwich from my pack. Not the traditional eat on the move approach of the marathon runner, but the slower, more thoughtful approach of the long-distance walker. Why eat on the move when you can stop, take the weight off your feet for a few minutes and take in the glory that surrounds you. I’m no longer chasing the clock or trying to convince my mind and body to keep going, I’m just enjoying being outside in the sunshine!
As I progressed the miles came slowly at walking pace, and as I stood atop Kettlebury Hilll, looking over the MOD training area where some Army manoeuvres were in full swing, I again considered my options. There was an ideal point coming up to cut a few miles out of the planned route and avoid the stiff climb up to The Devils Punchbowl. It’s a part of the route I’ve covered plenty of times before, and did I really need the extra miles of walking? No, I think not!
Decision made then, I diverted off the planned route and picked up a road section for half a mile or so, effectively cutting 4 miles off the day’s total. Sometimes I feel bad about changing my plans, it doesn't always seem to sit right in my mind, but at the same time, sometimes, adapting allows me to still have a good day out without hurting myself or suffering unnecessarily and at the end of the day, it’s all about having fun, not punishing yourself for a change of plan or a failure! My little diversion worked a treat too. As I covered the final couple of miles back to the van, I watched the distance slowly increase on my watch until it ticked over the 26 mile mark as I came down the final hill. If that wasn’t meant to be then I don’t know what was! 26 Miles in just over 6 hours than. Incredibly slow by my normal standards, but most importantly I’d had a good day, my legs still felt good, and I’d still enjoyed myself, walk or not. I can’t win every run I go out on and sometimes, acknowledging that it’s not a good day and changing your plans is the best thing to do. Give it a few more days and I’ll feel better, I’ll feel stronger and at some point, I’ll come back and run the full distance, but for today, I’m happy with that, and in my book that's all that matters! |
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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