Monthly Archives: June 2011

Running low

A challenging night gave not much sleep, which is a crying shame since I’m now more tired than I was on Friday and that was a low point for enthusiasm in itself. An early dinner, early chores and early to bed is the answer, I feel. Which means an early blog/check that the internet isn’t broken/shut down the computer.

Not much energy made searching for the problem with my car lights a pain; the problem is that the garage that do the MOT’s are sharks but the solution is harder. Last year, after 3 faultless years, when it came back from the MOT, a headlight bulb was out. Knowing they’re rough (the company insists we use them) I asked if anyone else on the firm had any problems and despite lots of nodding, nothing firm came from it. The problem with mine was that a 5 amp fuse had blown…considering the headlights run on 10 amp items, this isn’t surprising. I had suspicions of tampering (3 years on a fuse so under-rated is dubious; that it goes just after a service and MOT is concerning to me. My guess is a swapped fuse to gain a return visit, knowing most company drivers are too lazy to check such things). This year, surprise surprise, first time I turn the lights on after the service/MOT…nothing from the right lamp. Unfortunately the fuses are all ok this time; swapping the lamps gave the same result so the lamp unit is fine which means it’s a wiring fault that’s beyond my patience to sort when it’s someone else’s car, it was fine before it went in (odd that I was using it in the dark so close to the MOT in mid-summer but lucky nonetheless) and it’s clear to me it’ll be skullduggery to earn a visit, a few second’s work to allow a couple of hours on the bill. I’ll try to insist it goes somewhere decent but I know exactly what will happen. Ah, well. Good job I’ve got a bike.

The same energy made a trip shopping a chore; made finishing the ceiling decoration in the lounge less of a celebration than it might have been but didn’t stop me going for a Juneathon outing.

Fresh on the back of running yesterday, I went for another. Just a 2.6 mile loop but a refreshing, wake me up run to close out the most unrefreshing weekend I can remember.

To say I’m not ready to go to work tomorrow is an understatement on the scale of saying crack cocaine is a little bit moreish. Sure I’ll get there, mind.

761.54 miles to go.

41.91 Juneathon running miles.

385.82 Juneathon cycling miles.


The warm undertaking in the bath that I’m about to indulge in will be my third shower of the day in a manner of speaking.

The first was around 10.30 when I decided to run instead of cycle to the paper shop (I’m a bit over-cycled at the moment and fancy a change of activity; wonder why?). About 5 minutes before I wanted to go the heavens opened and, judging by the clouds coming in, would continue to open for the duration of the outing. I donned my rain jacket and rucksack to carry the paper home and left, undeterred.

The 1.75 miles there was wet, the wait inside as the woman in front bought her paper and 5 different lottery ticket types and then opted to pay by debit card was wet as I overheated in the jacket and my glasses steamed up and sweat started dripping off my nose onto the floor but as I stepped out the rain stopped, so the rucksack’s second compartment was utilised as a jacket stowage point and I started for home damp from the inside out but at least running into the sunshine.

Needless to say when JogBlog went out 10 minutes after I got home, the sun was beating down like one might expect on the nearest Saturday to the longest day we’ll experience this year.


So it came to pass that I fancied a bit more than a 3 mile outing, so around 4 o’clock I headed out again with the intention of around 4 miles and a loop in mind.

2 miles in and the sky darkened before drops started falling. Luckily I was near the only group of trees on the route, a classic country lane arch fully covering the road for around quarter of a mile and this was exactly how long the shower lasted for. Once I was out of the other side the wind had blown the clouds beyond me and it was again dry.

My route ended out at 4.7 miles so, along with the morning I’ve done an 8.2 mile running day and feel as fresh as I was this morning. My big toe is hurting a little as it used to 3 years ago but the main foot part is largely pain free so my 50 mile Juneathon target is still looking good. Which will be a progression since injury of 23 for April, 36 for May and 50 ish if I achieve it for June which is a steady climb and hopefully a good springboard for half marathon training. The best bit is being able to do 3 runs a week with no pain coming in. If the mileage grows a bit more, a decent half should be on the cards; I’ll be relying on a bit of cycling to replace one of the longer running outings for my endurance to keep impact minimal. As long as the rain keeps reasonable, one of the runs will be off road for the same purpose.

A positive outlook for a Saturday. Something must be wrong!

764.15 miles to go.

39.3 Juneathon running miles.

385.82 Juneathon cycling miles.

Update: In a world of numbers I just looked at my totals on RunningFreeOnline, clicked on the Juneathon group and for the first time ever clicked kilometers. Odd how coincidences occur and make symmetry – I happen to be on exactly 2000km for the year to date for both cycling and running combined. Very nice to see. I think I might dedicate my pint this evening to that very figure.

Now…into the shower.

It started dry…

When the house was disappearing behind me this morning I was a few seconds from having opened the greenhouse since despite the forecast, sunshine was bathing all in glorious warmth.

As I cleared the woodland section before Kenardington my view of the oncoming weather indicated that, while I should get to work in the dry, the weather wouldn’t hold forever. And as the ride wore on so the wind picked up in strength forcing much down-shifting of gears and gnashing of teeth.

But teeth that were dry.

Around 9 o’clock the rain started. And, apart from a little period around 3 this afternoon, has been pretty much non-stop since. Much needed for crops (which will probably be ruined by too much, too late!) and gardens (my water butt is all but full again), less welcome for cyclists.

Still, I donned my waterproof jacket and headed out at the usual 5ish to start my journey. A stream of cars were despatched on the downhill off the site (1 stream = 5 cars as of now…) due to the lead vehicle only wanting to crawl along but tired legs and lack of spirit made this the only swift part of the journey.

Steady but light rain leaving Rye was fine all across the marsh and as I climbed up the hill from Appledore the intensity grew with altitude. Wetter and wetter I got until the last section of underwear was soaked by mile 11. Some of this was undoubtedly wet from the inside out (the rucksack was dry inside still but my back bathed in sweat – breathable jackets clearly can’t cope with reasonable physical exertion quantities of moisture – never have, I doubt they ever will) but moist it still was. And as I again cleared the woods 3 miles from home, I was impressed by the intensity of the deluge. Absolutely soaking roads gave some distraction with my slick  tyres simply spraying the water everywhere instead of the old treaded things that typically spray it all up your back and into your face so small improvements over old were experienced but it was a joy to get home, dry off and have some food. The experience wasn’t too bad with little wind but gales included might have made me head for the train…fingers crossed June returns and pleasant riding conditions will return next week.

An early night is due to catch up on some energy and I won’t be lingering long before heading bedwards.

772.43 miles to go.

31.02 Juneathon running miles.

385.82 Juneathon cycling miles.

Today saw my cycling mileage for the year exceed 1000 so another benchmark reached in what will surely be a year of records (well, measured ones at least. No idea how many miles I used to run and ride when I didn’t measure it and used self-propelled transport for everything but I don’t think it was ever the intensity of this year so far. Maybe it will be a highest yearly mileage ever. I’ll take it, considering the current effort.)

An apple a day

I found myself a few rungs off the bottom of the ladder of despair today, seemingly not having enough time to do anything despite everything I’m doing being what I both need and want to. Work is the need, Juneathon is the want. How daft the (or my, anyway!) brain is that when we’ve not the time to do what we want a natural progression makes us unhappy about how it works.

Simply not being able to get everything done at work is dreadful when a true deadline looms – finishing houses for people to move in to (4 weeks flies by when you’ve given notice they’ll be done, solicitors are pressing for paperwork and idiots seem to think damage repairs itself) isn’t my cup of hot fat, to be fair, but I’ve a couple of years doing just that on this site so best I get used to it.

But finding myself in despair at my social schedule is just daft. The rotation of get up earlier than I want, cycle for an hour, work for 10 hours, cycle for an hour, recover, cook, eat, wash up, water the greenhouse, blog, go to bed is slightly draining.

The cycle to work this morning was difficult. A steady headwind made each pedal stroke a chore in two gears lower than is typical. Hard work. Today was particularly unproductive and heavy rain just before I was due to leave (along with 25mph winds just up the coast) made my mind do a little dance of despair.

A slow ride through the town with both wheels locking each time I applied the brakes for cars in front reminded me how slippery slick tyres on wet roads are before the journey along the canal (an owl heading for home this morning was the highlight of my route) made me wonder why I’m continuing to cycle in.

But then I stopped on the hill by the vineyard (8.5 miles from work, 7 miles still to go; one hill done, two to complete. It seems a pleasant “half the effort of the journey complete” place to pause), started eating my apple while crouching down to stretch my thighs out and found some happiness.

I simply contemplated that I’m doing lots of effort to achieve something that  is a true challenge and I’m not doing too badly at it. Finishing my apple I felt refreshed, invigorated and peaceful about the aches that are setting in. Getting home I cooked, ate, washed up and watered the greenhouse then decided enough grumbling about how tired I was already, so pulled on my running trainers and set off for a mile.

After I’d started I fancied much more than a mile, but am realistic that tomorrow sees another 30 miles target on the bike, so I came home as planned.

If I feel the same on Saturday, I may just plod for a decent-ish distance at slow speed and see how the contemplation works as I run some miles. A big if, but at least it’s there.

Over half way into June and not quite beaten yet. Close, but not quite.

Did someone say Friday?

803.99 miles to go.

31.02 Juneathon running miles.

354.26 Juneathon cycling miles.

Running low on inspiration

For approximately three nano-seconds, I contemplated a run this evening. Thankfully my senses righted themselves and I’ll try to go tomorrow – legs are weary again (got a bit excited to be moving reasonably quickly on the way home, so kept a decent pace up. Now I’m paying for it.) and it’s going to be a struggle but, knowing I’ll be fine on Saturday for a longer outing if I do go, I’m sure I’ll find the enthusiasm for a little outing.

The cycle commute was dry today (it’s just started tipping it down with rain as I type) and joyously dull. Saw the heron beside the canal near the Kent border again, felt a bit sorry for the rabbit that thad no head but a pristine torso on the way to work as well as the pheasant that was doing a good impression of a two dimensional road print of itself on the way home but other than that, I merely cycled for 31.5 miles and am now a little more tired.

But possibly (and hopefully) a bit more endurance-fit. I’m hoping I can carry the fitness through the summer as I try to put some meat back on my muscles for the autumn. Time will, as I seem to keep thinking, tell.

836.68 miles to go.

29.92 Juneathon running miles.

322.67 Juneathon cycling miles (the sad thing about cycling so far each day is missing the milestones; from a good few below 300, I’d no idea where I’d passed 300 as I did so. No air punch, no stopping pedalling to relish the yards, nothing. If I make it as far as 500 this month (about 6 more days if I can keep it up), I’ll work out where I’ll be and have a little celebration. Might eat a cake or something to mark the mile. Yes, maybe I’ll do that. Is anyone still reading this paragraph after my stats? Could I, in fact, be confessing to crimes and be obtaining a clear conscience with no risk of being found out? If only I had some confessions worth writing!

Chalk, cheese, steak and chips

With mushrooms and coleslaw.

The day started several times better than yesterday with a bright morning beckoning me onto the bike for a sunny, pleasant and thoroughly memorable cycle to work. Memorable for being quiet (no wind roar in my ears beyond that created by forward progress), having little traffic, being on relatively fresh legs (they were warmed up by 1.5 miles in which was nice) as well as being chilly enough to warrant a long sleeved top but warm enough that by the time my legs had warmed, so had the rest of my body.

Work was work. Bah.

The cycle home started slowly without being able to get into a rhythm through the town at all followed by a calm ride along the canal which made me wake up to the issue of a bit of cycle maintenance being needed in as much as I was noticing (have been for a few rides but have been too lazy to do anything about it) that as I veer around potholes and the like, the steering resists input then goes notchy and flops around the obstacle, then needs correction as though a cable is too tight around the steering head. A check revealed that the headset has indeed become notchy around the centre point. Probably a bit of play in the headset that I didn’t adjust out on building the bike up, I reckon – 10 minutes in the garage on returning home, a stripped set of bearings and a good looking at revealed nothing untoward and a good clean, grease and delicate re-assemble (along with lowering the bars on the stem half an inch – I set them slightly high when I built the bike to allow me to get used to the stretch and lay-down compared with my mountainbikes which are short in the top-tube; I’m used to it now and can, I reckon, set it closer to the racer ideal without causing undue pains. Tomorrow will tell and I can always put it back) has it working faultlessly again and I’ll monitor it more closely now to see if anything wants replacing.

Which made it around 6.30 when I decided a small run was in order which, much like Sunday’s outing, started out with legs unwilling to run, forced me to decide on a short loop home, but goaded me into something bigger after a mile when I’d warmed up and got my running legs on.

Unfortunately, the goading didn’t have any effect. I simply stuck to my plan, came home, cooked a simply meaty meal and have now watered the greenhouse, killed a million lilly beatles (how quickly do they breed and decimate a lilly bed? F-quick, that’s how!) and blogged.

Day done.

866.23 miles to go.

29.92 Juneathon running miles (a touch pathetic but my foot feels ok-ish still which is a result and half marathon training starts as Juneathon ends so I’ll enjoy the pathetic-ness while I’m able).

291.12 Juneathon cycling miles (which, after 14 days, is frankly ridiculous in contrast).

Meat festival

Two of my Juneathon challenges are over and not complete now – after not running last week to preserve my foot, my full contingent of cycling commutes has today fallen by the wayside, the result of a 5.20 alarm call revealing a dark morning which, as I looked out of the landing window, proved to be caused by wind bending the trees right over and rain driving horizontally across the garden.

Despite my conscience screaming at me to cycle in anyway, I didn’t. My desire to be able to not hate the commute in the future, to not resent Juneathon for my own choices and to be able to do a decent day at work without being knackered by the headwind, soaked to the skin to the point of not being able to dry my clothes out fully before the journey home and for another half hour in bed won. I returned to bed, re-set the alarm and drove in.

With the windscreen wipers justifiably on all the way there, my conscience eased a bit; talking to Steve at work who drove his mile to work because the weather was so bad he couldn’t fac ehte cycle made my wimping out on 16 seem more sensible, even if it does mean I only have a 50 mile total running distance goal and exercising every day as the remaining Juneathon achievements I can aspire to.

In deference to the month tonight, however, I contemplated a run but have a sore-ish foot which wants another day of rest before being punished again (45th in the Hamstreet 10k result which, since I had no energy, ran it sensibly on tired legs after Crisis and stopped to help the runner in trouble (who’s made a full recovery, apparently) while others ran on makes me happy with the effort on the day. I like to think I’ll come in around half way up a field of runners so to be top quarter is pretty pleasing. It was won overall by the lady the marshalls were saying was absolutely on fire which makes a change.) so opted for a cycle outing to buy some food.

JB has arranged a week of outings so I have to fend for myself for three nights. My solution, apparently, is extreme. My return prompted the query “What, are you having a meat festival?”. I selected a portion of organic rib-eye steak, some meaty special pork sausages (cheap ones would lower the meat content, I guess, but sawdust does little for the flavour!) and some pasta with added bacon for a quick warm-up should I run late one of the evenings. Since I’ve had meat only about 20 times this year, I may as well make hay while the girlfrend’s out, I reckon.


The result was just over 7 miles on the pedals, though. The better result was a fight into the headwind on the way home that had me pissed off after three miles. 16 this morning into the same wind would probably have seen the bikes (all 4 of them, just in case…) in the free-ads before breakfast.

So not as good as hoped but…

901.41 miles to go.

28.37 Juneathon running miles.

259.5 Juneathon cycling miles.

To dip below 900 miles with over 6 months to go will be something of a milestone (150 miles a month seems somehow achievable, even in November and December). All other targets become a bonus.

Something the Grim organisers could learn

Or how to create a challenging event, confuse everyone with differing entry clues and turn out a simply superb event.

This morning dawned bright enough and a plan was hatched to convince JB of the sense in cycling to the Hamstreet 1ok (only 4 miles down the road so not such a challenge, to be fair) but after a little while the clouds assembled into their masses and as I went out to open the greenhouse the first smatterings of rain were cascading onto all around.

A race in the rain followed by a damp cycle home? No, ta. We took the car.

All my online searches last night added to confusion about the event. Several showed it to be an outing on roads, mainly flat. One revealed the plan to run around the woods a couple of times in a hilly loop. Being so close to home and having destroyed and knackered legs, neither were going to offer competitive (my own competition…nothing to do with the leaders or anything, you understand) timings so it didn’t really bother me and an off road loop would be better for my foot, so I was edging in that direction.

The revelation when we got there that about twice as many people as they clearly expected had turned up (the biggest on-the-day entry queue I’ve ever seen…a race director hunched behind a laptop trying to keep up…all in a good natured and friendly atmosphere) was surprising. Standing on the start line after the children’s 800m run, listening to the starter revealing that two 4km loops of the woods would be through much mud and puddle, and the fact that the woods were on a hill let me know everything I needed to.

A slow time was prepared for and expected.

What wasn’t expected was a good start, a lap of the village green to spread everyone out and an entry into the woods before a climb to the highest part of the course over the first mile and a half. It got a bit slow behind some near walkers on the steepest bit where the trail was too narrow to pass (I did a couple of times and have the cuts on my thighs from the brambles to show for it…bah!) but generally the nature of the woods was ideal for such an event. A steady climb had my breathing quickening despite the slow pace, the ground was firm enough to start with if rutted and a bit ankle-turney at times and by the 2km mark, I wondered how bad I’d feel at 5k!

The answer, as I turned a cone at the highest part, was soon to be revealed as much better. As the run progressed I managed the weird feat of getting fresher and feeling better. My third mile at an average 7.07 pace only just shaded my 6th mile at 7.11 pace, such were the hills and the increasing freshness in the legs but the time was to take a turn for the worse.

After the high turn, a series of paths filled with flints to challenge the footfall opened into a proper slippy, boggy bit which made the climb out the other side a sliding backwards affair but was good as a gauge as to how well I fared compared to those around. Trail shoes would clearly be an advantage.

The second loop was much as the first but a touch more lonely. Some of the roots that I noticed first time around were forgotten with more view of the trail and fewer bodies allowing footfall to be predicted and placed. Some fantastically enthusiastic locals cheering us all on at the halfway point was very nice considering where it all took place.

The worst bit of the race was just around 7k, however. A man was simply staggering sideways, one way then another, as runners went around him. Marshalling was, I have to say, fantastic – very few areas existed where you couldn’t see a marshall in either direction (no mean feat in woodland) and all were encouraging and friendly. As I approached the errant runner, though, the marshall behind was stood at her corner (about 150m behind) and was leaving it up to another marshall ahead to make his way up to the “runner”. I shouted back to the marshall behind as I stopped at the man that he was in trouble and she waved me on in an “i’m dealing with it” gesture. Clearly, the bloke had no sense of direction, his arms were everywhere and his eyes were rolling in their sockets indicating either mental instability or loss of focus. I wagered the latter but got a little wave from him to leave him alone and, satisfying myself the marshall was approaching fast and had medical kit with him, whizzed down to the marshall, told him what I saw and asked if he wanted me to raise help. He assured me he was onto it so I carried on. Not a nice sight and not good for a finishing time…the bloke in the Southampton FC shirt I was closing in on was out of sight and gone by the time I started running again. Ah, well.

The 6th mile was quick-ish, as stated, and a loop of the finish field saw me head straight to the St. John Ambulance crew and ask if they’d been made aware of potential problems. They said they’d heard someone might be in trouble but were waiting for a proper call. About a minute later, two of them went sprinting up the course, clearly headed for the runner. Having got my medal I headed back up the road, chatting to a couple of marshalls about how I’d enjoyed the event but asking about the runner when I saw that he’d made it to the end of the lane, about half a mile from the finish where he’d fully collapsed. A stroll back saw electronic stuff plastered all over him and, 10 minutes later first a car, then an ambulance proper came to the scene. Poor bloke. Apparently he’s training for a run and cycle to Paris and had been on his bike before the race – the marshalls that knew him suggesting he was known for overdoing it.

So a bit of an odd situation in an otherwise fantastic race. A good challenging course (no pb potential but little chance of damage to overused limbs due to the softness of the terrain, either), good marshalling and organisation, very local, a decent sized entry. Best race of the year by far. And a course that, if run in winter, could truly be a Beast in the East…decent facilities, an undulating course that would become massively funny with a lot more added water or some snow but which was challenging in itself and fun on the day…basically everything to make up for a crap experience at Canada Heights.

If only my legs hadn’t felt so out of spirits to start. And to finish. And if only the marshalls had called for the ambulance crew earlier (but if the bloke staggered another 1.5k from where I saw him, maybe they did all they could without dropping the fellow!). But at least the rain held off for the most part.

I’ll try to be back next year. Great race. Smart.

908.62 miles to go.

28.37 Juneathon running miles.

252.29 Juneathon cycling miles.

A bit sore

Is it a sign of getting old or of being unfit or of overdoing it when, following a “recovery” run after an evening race, I wake up the following morning with legs as sore as when first running after years of slacking?

I’m hoping it’s the cumulative miles showing their heads above the parapet because I simply can’t put in the hours to get any fitter, can’t get any younger and, with the injuries hopefully behind me for a few weeks, need to be able to increase and maintain running miles without pain to allow a gradual improvement for the autumn half marathon I must begin thinking about training for.

That’s a nice phrase, though: “Begin thinking about training for”. I can begin to think for a heck of a long time when I put my mind to it. Maybe that’s the route to obesity, right there.

Anyway, with JogBlog sounding serious about the Hamstreet 10k tomorrow, I decided today would be a no run day. My legs are simply leaden weights with jeans hugging them and it’s now early evening with no mileage to show except the 11 mile cycle ride to the paper shop and egg house this morning which I did at a very slow, easy tempo in an attempt to free things up. It didn’t do any harm but I fear a 10k personal worst will be more attractive tomorrow than trying to put up a spirited fight for a decent time. JB seems to be hovering around the 10.30 min/mile time at the moment so I don’t think I’ll try to pace her under the hour – that’ll wait for the autumn when her half marathons are out of the way and her legs are fresh and up for a fight so the excuse book is going to be well and truly open in an attempt to justify my slacking after the event.

But it’ll be nicer to do a local race than not (it’s only 4 miles away – I’m trying to talk her into cycling there and back) and I’m interested to see how the organisers will achieve their stated aim to provide a 10k route that is on local lanes, slightly undulating without being hilly to allow some fast times…it’s surrounded by either a bypass or hills so maybe there’s something to be learnt from local knowledge. Or it’ll turn out to be a hilly bastard which will crucify my legs yet again and make the cycle to work on Monday that bit more painful then it yet has been!

Hopefully I’ll find out and be able to report back tomorrow. Assuming there are places available on the day, of course.

*UPDATE* Despite “NiceWork” (the organisers) claiming the first time running of it, the speed and flatness, I’ve found “RunBritain” saying it’s the second year and hilly. Marvellous. Sore knees, tired legs and a slow pace it is to be then!

914.81 miles to go.

22.18 Juneathon running miles.

252.29 Juneathon cycling miles.

A short recovery

For whatever reason, from being just behind me when we left the railway station last night, Cathy disappeared and took about 45 minutes to get home from when I arrived. Turns out she decided it would be easier to walk home than cycle, so returned to the station, locked her bike and plodded home.

Very odd, takes all sorts etc. and I could have tried to find her when I realised she’d gone missing but experience told me I’d be hunting for years and I needed to sleep so I left her to whatever she was up to. Walking, mainly.

Which gave me a good excuse for a recovery run to collect her bike. A double excuse, in fact, since I could also visit the hire depot and pay for the tower I’d hired to sort out the tv aerial. So I did just that.

A slower run to Ashford, stop to pay, collect bike, cycle home. And little detail gives a chance to review my Trion:Z bracelet thing which I’ve been wearing for a couple of months now.

Being approached for a review of a product that is difficult to categorize is an odd thing but since the most I had to lose was nothing, also a good thing. The website and numerous research articles state claim and counter claim regarding alternative therapies but nothing can prove or disprove something quite like a trial run (as it were!) to gauge benefits or drawbacks.

And, quite simply, I see no drawbacks. In black and red, my band looks quite natty and since (apart from clothes to allow me to carry out whatever I’m doing practically and tidily) I wear nothing about my person more than a pair of glasses to see and a watch to tell the time, having something to break up my otherwise naked arm is quite an odd view. But one I like.

I started to wear it just as my foot was on the way to recovery. Whether or not it assisted recovery (possible if claims of increased bloodflow are good) is open to science and debate. It also coincided with a big increase in cycling mileage. The one thing I can state is that I have managed to increase running and cycling in decent increments without pain, suffering, unduly long recovery periods or problems. Maybe the bracelet works as advertised.

I noted other bloggers wondering if their improved times were due to the bracelet helping or whether it was a coincidence with the spring, some warm sunshine and increased activity. Maybe the bracelet is a placebo that, along with the right physiological input and mindset, allows achievement of deserved goals.

Cathy would quite happily “have my arm cut off before I stop wearing it” which, when she got lethargic on Wednesday, I was about to do when she relented. I suggested that since she’d been wearing it for months, if she took it off then when she put it back on the effect might make her feel the girl she was, not the knackered girl she felt. When I pulled her from her bed for Crisis, she forgot to put the band on so when we spotted this on the train, I gave her mine so she could make it around. On the back of not wearing it, I posted an average pace for the 4.16 busy, congested with other runners so not a straightforward run miles of 6.58 min/mile – not slow at all. This prompted the joke from the sage who is EatingTrees “What’s red and black and does fuck all?!” Maybe he’s correct as well as being funny (I might have used this as the blog post title but for fear the makers might take the view as my review and be upset – probably with justification were it true!)

I can therefore certainly state that it’s a cracking looking thing that might just work (I’m on the side of benefit, even if so minimal the placebo is greater than the physical despite being equal without it) and can, surely, do little harm (if it does indeed increase circulation and health problems arise I think exercising is likely to have a worse effect!).

So: Trion:Z. If you like the look of it, buy one. I’m probably going to replace mine when it wears out because I like it and if I replace it with copper it’ll leave funny marks; rubber bands make funny smells; leather ditto; I don’t want to wear two watches; Livestrong bands seem to be for youths and also smell when hot; it might just do something to make me healthy.

Review done. Back to painting the lounge ceiling now!

926.09 miles to go.

22.18 Juneathon running miles.

241.01 Juneathon cycling miles.