Grace Under Pressure 2

Well the events of yesterday (and the previous week if I'm honest) caught up with me today. After a really poor night sleep with my head aswirl with 1001 unrelated and not very imporant things, I didn't make it to the start line for the Baslow Bolt, one of my regular runs of the past few years.  I just felt washed out and so gave the rain, the mud, the hills and the cold a miss, which was a pity as quite a few foks from Stonehill Runners had made the trip across and seemed to have a blast despite the inclement conditions.  Sometimes it is best just to let common sense prevail.

Time will tell. Today I have just returned from my stationing visit, which for those of you not familiar with Methodist circles means I have been to have a look round (and be looked at) by my next possible place of work from September 2026. Thankfully I didnt have to travel far to get there as It is approx 10miles up the road from where I currently am, but that was counter balanced by the length of the day which ran from 9am until 4pm; which is 7 hours for me to be on my best behaviour. It involved meeting members from five very different churches, staff collegues, a variety of people from across the circuit plus a visit to the manse I will be living in.  It was a chance for them to ask me any questions and for me to just talk to / at / with them...and that is one thing I don't really have a problem with. I guess the day could have felt much much longer if i had sensed early doors that it wasn't going to be a good match for me but that wasn't the case. Yes there were issues...

  Back whenever it was that I booked it, going away for a week of winter sunshine seemed a great idea. And it was. Only going away the week before Advent wasn't.  What with services (both local and circuit) to sort out, bible studies to get upto date with (or even ahead of myself), Christmas craft activities to organise and stuff buy when I don't know how many are turning up, quizes to lead, runs to run and a stationing visit to throw into the mix, I think its fair to say I am back on the treadmill again. With the speed turned up and set to a 10% incline.  

   

Post race the past couple of days have gone in a blur. The stiffness in my lower limbs came, reaching it's maximum 36 hours after the run but with a combination of hot baths and improvised foam rolling it's now slowly but surely disappearing. I'm not sure TOM telling me repeatedly that it was all 'self inflicted' helped much but I can almost put my socks on today. We have had a little  jolly  down the coast  to the Spanish part of Spain in Alicante. We could have gone by tram but it seemed to take forever and so we used the express airport bus and then another into Alicante itself. It was an overcast and blustery day, perhaps not the best for visiting but I am not sure whether better  weather would have made it much better. Strange to say it but I much preferred the tackiness of Benidorm and we both agreed that we'd made the right choice regarding where to base ourselves. We wandered, mooched, hardly took any pictures apart from ones of ominous looking  clouds b...

  So just another 11km to go, as TOM headed back to the hotel. Unlike the first half of the race which was run in a singular direction, thiscsecond part involved several switch backs up and down side roads, each one branching off from what felt like a never ending gradual climb away from the seafront. This is where  never ending means one roundabout after another at which I  felt sure we would turn round but at each one we just kept on running further away from the sea. It was at this point that I was finally caught by some of the Hucknall Harriers who had begun the run  in a slower (more accurate) starting slot,but I  was pleased to have stayed ahead of them for so long. The occasional drumming bands greeted our approach together with several deafening sound systems whose purpose was just to make me run quicker past them before my ear drums exploded. My original  injury  worry was holding up fine but by 11 miles my right thigh had started to tighten n...

  For a couple of reasons. Firstly, with less that 2 hours to go before the start of the 10km run at 5pm, I have not seen a single billboard, poster or banner actually advertising that there is an event taking place in the city. There are no mile markers up, no barriers to block roads off, no direction signs to tell runners when to turn and no sign of ant water stations being set up. Maybe the town council have the last min preparation down to a fine art but I was expecting something to have been sorted overnight. So far nothing. The second reason is a right hamstring niggle that just appeared overnight for no rhyme or reason. A dull ache out of the blue, neccessitating a mix of anti inflammatory tablets, a soak in a hot bath, a hastily purchased thigh support and the hope that it is something and nothing. Bet Sara Cox didn't have these issues to contend with. Or if she did she had a team of fully trained medics abd physios at her beck and call. I have a less than interested TOM. M...

  Another good night sleep with both of us managing to slumber for a couple of hours longer than we would manage at home. Down for breakfast, where I have given the very fatty Spanish version of bacon a wide berth indeed, before our first task of the day, registering for the race.  We had already encountered last night, the advanced party of the 70 or so from Smalley Runners who have taken over the Hotel Nadal.  And on route to the registration venue met three for Hucknall Harriers,one of whom looked at me and exclaimed "oh you look as if you're running the half". Must be the jet lag that had clouded her judgement. It has been noticeable over the past 24 hours the chance in demographic, with the number of mobility scooters and walking aids now being matched by the amount of lycra on show. A great way to extend the tourist season by encouraging 15,000 runners to come and spend a fortune over a few days. Registration was very smooth and efficient with bib number, starting g...

Although not as fancy as some of the other  hotels we might have stayed in, the advantage of the Gala Palacidio is that tucked away on a side street, 200 yards or so from where all the main action is, meant it was lovely and quite which meant we both has reasonably good nights sleep.  We had pondered the late start to breakfast at 8am but we didn't  manage to get there till almost 8.30am and I suspect quite a few of the other guests failed to make the 10am cut off.  Mind you those that did, including what we assumed was a Slimming World weekend away, certainly seemed to be getting their money's worth. The only steps they would be doing today was up and down to the buffet. The sky was blue, the sun was out, the weather  lovely and warm and so afterbavquick orientation via the Tourist Office, we began a leisurely stroll along the promenade, pausing at intervals to admire the view and people watch.  And they came in all shapes and sizes; running, walking, push...

  As with all our jollies away, the major thing to achieve on day 1 is to still be speaking to each other by the time we reach our destination. Tune in later to see if objective one was achieved.  With flurries of snow falling in Matlock we decided to drive to Buxton, leave the car there, and take the 199 bus across to the airport. Standing at a freezing cold bus stop, my trousers, fashionably fit for the Benidorm sunshine, were certainly not suitable for the actic conditions of mid Derbyshire. Thankfully the heaters on the bus soon helped to thaw out my legs, a situation I am sure Mo Farah didn't have to contend with before his big races. Formalities at the airport were very quick despite TOM having his crutches swabbed yet again for gunpowder residue or traces of hard narcotics. It was like being in a real life episode of Border Control, only without the need for rubber gloves.  A mini delay getting on the plane, but with both our possibility oversized bags...

   Off to run the Benidorm Half...will upload as internet connection permits. If not then see you in a week

So after the wobble in the woods on Wednesday night it was time to get back in the saddle so to speak with my final run before Benidorm on Saturday. Hopefully an incident free one.  Last night, on what was the first decidely chilly evening of autumn (my legs were covered up for one thing) it was our regular Thieves Wood gallop with an extra sting in the tail thrown in right at the end.  You know its starting to get cold when your breathe is visible in front of you, caught in the beam of your head torch. Indeed there was so much breathe being caught from 8 adults and three canine companions, at times it looked as if it was a vaping convention moving through  the woods rather than a group of almost fit runners. And although I am familiar with the run, despite a fallen tree across the path causing an almost immediate detour, the darkness does play tricks but often in a most welcome way. In the dark it often doesn't seem as far between known landmarks and the hills actually f...

 

  First there were programmes about singing. Then came dancing, dancing on ice, cooking and baking. Next in line were shows where people demonstated a wide variety of talents or none talents in many cases. Cooking shows with professionals, non professionals and celebrities actually made celebrities of cooks from across the country. And then we had the inuendo laden baking shows with references to soggy bottoms which we all laughed at until suddenly we were told that some of those references were in fact higly inappropriate, which made us all wonder why we had laughed in the first place arriving like a bolt of cloth from the blue was a show that wasn't just eye raising but hem raising too as Claudia Winkelman, Joe Lycett, Sarah Pascoe and now Kiell Smith Bynoe have taught us the importance of sowing. Now however I think we have reached the very nadir of TV's desire to make somethign that is a function of life but not really all that intersting, interesting. Welcome to Tom Daly, ...

Or at least that's what I hope I will be doing exactly a week from today as I run exactly a 10th of the distance that the magnificent Sara Cox has managed to do over the past five days. But what would you expect from a gitl from Lancashire. I mean was it ever in doubt. Well yes at times possibly I suspect Sara would admit herself as the physical pain and emotional overload took its visible toll.  Yet supported by all her Radio 2 family and seeingly surfing a huge wave of support from women of a certain age up and down the country, she manage to beat not just the distance but also the terrain, the weather and the fact that some of the run was in Yorshire, which let's be honest would certainly make me run quicker and not want to stop chatting to any 'locals'. And amazingly Sara did, with a smile on her face too. For ultra marathon runners it was probably just a walk in the park but how many of us fit into that catagory. Not me thats for certain. So hats off to you Sara fo...

Andrew Cotter, Olive and Mabel. Just lovely

  The news about stationing has been 'alright'

    No before you ask it's nothing to do with stationing, although by late tomorrow afternoon when I find out where I have been invited to go and visit, that situation might have changed dramatically. No this one involves running. And it wasn't about my ability to run in Benidorm in just over a week either. Tonight I had a 'wobble'. Not a stumble or fall but a real crisis of faith or confidence as we ran through a wooded section of a route I have run at least 20 times before. I don't mean a crisis of 'faith' but one related to actually running in the dark through the woods on a narrow trail. Normally I love running through the woods at night, especially the narrow paths as it forces everyone else to slow down.I've even enjoyed solo jollies off the beaten track. But tonight for some reason was awful. Yes it was dark, yes it had a very, very light drizzle at times but my headtorch was working okay and my vision reasonable.  So why did I suddenly transform ...

That's it Ive finally had enough and channeling my inner 'Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells' I have written a very pithy and direct letter to Ashfield Council complaining about the fireworks in the local area.  Starting with Divali celebrations back in late October, well before the traditiona season for arial explosions kicked in and extending well after the final embers of the local bonfire had died, every evening has been filled with loud bangs, whooshes, crackles, whistles and other gunpowder related sounds. And I couldn't hear any of it because of the non stop barking of local dogs and the even louder bleating of their owners which was both unneccessary and  unwanted.  Please Ashfield Council do something about the horrendous noise next year so that I can enjoy the aural treat without the canine competition.  

It must be over a year now since the split occurred.  The one involving one of my running groups that suddenly and for reasons no one could quite work out broke into two distinct and 'never the twain shall meet' groups; the original and the newbies that I opted to join.  Back in the old days when there was still only one group, our regular Monday night jolly during the dark days of winter was a 5km loop around the undulating streets of Ravenshead. Since the split however, my group (the newbies) have opted to run around the trails in the woods either at Newstead Abbey or Thieves Wood. Until tonight that is, when out of the blue we were back pounding the pavements of Ravenshead on an 8km hill strewn route.  It was not the same jolly as before either in terms of  route run or distance, this being an 8km excursion, but it did have a certain sense of nostagia about it. Apart from the bits where we got 'lost' havign missed various turning. But the rain held off, the group ...

  83 year old Anges was just looking forward to getting home for a nice cup of tea. Now she has raised the bar a little higher

    ask millions of Tesla owners

So having managed to lie his way to being the last traitor standing Grace Under Pressure is now ponderign just what else Alan Carr has been lying about. Here in a virtually true exclusive the lid is lifted on the real life one of TV’s most beloved stars. Don't let his camp nature fool anyone, because even people with the most finely-tuned gaydar are now increasingly convinced that Carr is actually a rampant  straight, heterosexual alpha male who loves loves nothing more than to bury his head in the buxom bosom of a swimsuit models.  Don’t let his comically large glasses fool you either because it can be revealed that Carr has the visual acuity that would put a TOP GUN pilot to shame. The glasses, much like the ones worn by Clark Kent are simply a disguise to reveal his true nature.  And then there's that voice. Don't be mislead by that high pitches squeak because as soon as he comes off stage and is out of ear shot of the nearest camera or microphone, Alan Carr's ac...

  Tonight TOM and I had a little jolly out to the theatre, the Nottingham Royal to be precise' for our pre pre Christmas treat, The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe.  Probably the most famous book written by renowned Christian author C.S.Lewis, it is one that has been on the book list of childen down through the ages, I can certainly remember reading it and then being disappointed that none of the wardrobes in my house transported me to a magical land.  This year  celebrates the 75th anniversary of the classic C.S. Lewis’s novel which was first published in October 1950. Since then, the novel has been translated into over sixty languages and sold more than 85 million copies. Whilst not really ticking the 'festive box, this  was the ideal dose of spellbinding escapist theatre for a windy November night.   A real treat for the eyes and ears with a live on stage band providing the musical score and accompaniying the various songs, the staging was at tim...

I've just caught my first glimpse of the official John Lewis Christmas advert for this year, and after the disapppointments of the past few years, this seasonal effort is 'okay'. It is howeever not a patch on this unofficial version which is sublime. And a little tear inducing. This is Sam Clegg with 'Angel on the tree'    

Tonight we had a little soiree to investigate the possibility of one of my churches attempting to see if we might attain the bronze Eco Church award offered by the Christian charity organisation  A Rocha.  Given that Flourish is one of the 12 Discipleship Pathways that the church is trying to engage with it seemed a sensible avenue to explore as we looked at 5 different areas of church life: Worship and teaching, Buildings and Energy, Land and Nature, Community and Global Engagement, and finally Lifestyle. And the results of our discussions and trying to answer the questions using the on line self assessment provided by A Rocha were interesting. As a church we did well on the teaching and worship section, in fact we did so well we hit the gold standard mark. As for the others well I think its fair to say that our achievements were not so glowing. whilst individuals from the church might be engaging is some of the areas with regards how we engage enviromentally with our local c...

Less than three weeks to go now till the Benidorm Bash, well two actually if you count a week of tapering ie not running at all, which I certainly intend to count. So it's been a case of putting in the hard yards whether I feel like it or not, a situation that has been helped by running some fresh routes, one new and one that I haven't run for ages. First up on Saturday was a run along the canal at Cromford, then the long climb upto Black Rocks, a bit of relative flat past the start / finish of the newly established Park run, and then another climb upto Middleton Top before a final section through the Hopton tunnel. Then it was simply a case of turning round, retracing my steps and enjoying the fact that all the nightmare hills on the way out, were now lovely downhills on the way back. A total of 9 miles and all before breakfast. Then tonight it's been a 5 mile run through the grounds of Newstead Abbey doing what we call the Abbey carrot field loop. although for the first t...

Over the past week or so I have been walloping in nostaglia and in particular the nostalgia generated by listening to selections from the back catalogue of the Canadian rock band Rush. Amongst them was their 12th studio album which contains the song Hold Your Fire.  Lyricist and drummer Neil Peart wrote, "All through the '70s our lives were flying by; we spent so much time on the road that it became like a dark tunnel. You start to think about the people you're neglecting, friends and family. So the song is about stopping to enjoy that; with a warning against too much looking back. Instead of getting nostalgic about the past, it's more a plea for the present." And then I came across this, a wonderfully stripped back version of the song. So here is your aural treat for the day. Enjoy.   Make each impression A little bit stronger Freeze this motion A little bit longer The innocence slips away…