Category Archives: Moaning

Sunshine on a Working Day

If there’s one thing worse than being weary, not enjoying the site you’re on, not having very good weeks and having to work a Saturday with no chance of either payment or the time off to make up for it, it’s all that plus having to do it while it’s a perfect sunny windless day.
But I’ll not really grumble since the air-tests went perfectly, I got some paperwork out of the way without the usual interruptions and then had an unexpected perfect winter run around the lanes.
My favourite route around Paddlesworth before going towards Denton then heading toward Elham before enjoying the rolling hills to Etchinghill and then back to Hawkinge.
A gentle pace, 6.5 miles, sun, warm and not a soul to be seen all the way around.
Perfect.
Guess it means it’ll shit it down with cats and frogs and blow a gale and freeze for the remainder of my outings now.
Or I could be less pessimistic and look forward to tomorrow. Yep, let’s do that.
140, 97, 49.

Do the BBC have no shame?

On my drive to work this morning (hadn’t planned to cycle, I was out for a mountainbike ride with Steve. Don’t think I ‘ll get away with claiming Juneathon miles with the bike in pieces in the back of the car), the local doomsayers (BBC Radio Kent. The most depressive pair of idiots ever to present a morning show. I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again. But I fancied hearing the traffic at 6.45, so had it on for a few seconds) did a quick weather statement indicating that it was forecast to get up to 25 degrees celcius and be fine today. I laughed, called them cunts and turned over to BBC Radio 4.

Around the turn of the hour, Tomasz  Schafernaker (best name ever? Yep, probably. Well, after Mike Hunt, the RovaKabin rep, of course. I’ve still got his business card.) was introduced and he again iterated that we were due (in the South East, at least. Kent is the South East still, isn’t it?) 25 degrees. This was as the car was buffeted sideways and the wipers were on full through the rain that was pelting down. I checked the car thermometer. A rosy 11 degrees. Nearly halfway to target, then.

On arrival at work I checked the BBC weather site and it showed, for anywhere I looked, a maximum of 18 degrees forecast. With an  average 18mph wind from the North East. Which was about what happened. XC Weather indicated similar. Metcheck the same.

So why were the presenters lying? Because something is so corrupt at the BBC that they are compelled to do so, I guess. Tomasz especially – he wouldn’t want to be sacked twice, after all. None of us like that.

Any Questions on Radio 4 this evening must have hurt them so much. Policy is, I’ve read, to encourage debate with a swing towards support, on climate change. The audience didn’t like it and neither did the presenter when a scientist stated the fact that global temperature hasn’t risen for 17 years. Despite his balanced judgement that yes, human influence is altering the planet, that yes we are experiencing alterations in weather, that things are changing but global warming isn’t occurring in a measured way, the audience (and presenter in failing to control them) wouldn’t have it at all.

I need a change of life. This one is frustrating me. I’ve even deleted FaceBook, such is my growing anger at idiots commenting on things they clearly feel they should when in fact they should simply be executed. And no, I can’t not look – my “I’m going to upset myself by looking at the stupid people” gene is too weak.

So Today’s Juneathon was a relief from the frustrations of my existence. I hated the wind. I especially hated my decision to ride from work to meet the boys because it made an extra 3 miles at the end of a 15 mile loop uphill and into wind. Proper uphill and wind, too, even at 8 o’clock. Yep, hills get no flatter in the evening. Steve was looking forward to my rant about how shite the trip was. I haven’t the energy. The BBC have outdone even the wind. But I was sweating by the time I’d got to the car. Sweating with cold hands. A hot core and cold extremities. That’ll be the effect of 25 degrees on the soul. Or the 11 my car thermometer showed, anyway.

My jog was courtesy of Steve, too. He got a puncture on the flat, road bit in Hythe. I proposed I’d run my mile while he repaired it. So in flat-soled skate trainers and cycling shorts (long ones, not lycra padded things. I’m not that much of a pervert.), I set off and returned in time to help him pump it up. Cool, windy but flatter than a pan-type cake (the run. Not Steve. Or Shaun, come to that), so easy despite the footwear.

Juneathon? It’s going ok.

Despite the bastard weather that’s worse than the first week of Janathon was.

Ah, the weekend. I can almost smell it.

I like Robins

As I headed out to water the greenhouse after my Juneathoning was over, I was followed by my Robin. Always there or thereabouts with me in the garden, today saw me amble towards the glass structure (why have I just felt like I’m writing a passage for “Just a Minute”? Because I resisted writing greenhouse twice? Maybe. Maybe there’s a blog challenge just been hatched for when things get really desperate in week 3. As if writing about a Robin isn’t desperate enough. And no, I haven’t wavered off topic. It’s a running blog. Topic was off with the title.) with it (the Robin. Keep up!) firstly on the wall by the conservatory, then onto my favourite red-leafed tree (must decide what it is instead of just looking at it in ignorance and liking it as I clear the lily bed of beetles), then onto the pile of brush that needs burning, then onto the water butt. No digging, so no opportunity to provide food, but to see him watching me from Cathy’s stick (a tree branch she brought back for a mile from a drunken walk back from town, she’s attached to it so it has to stay on the lawn by the kitchen window) as I washed up was like being observed by a wise old fellow. Like when it makes me jump when I reach for the fork and it’s sat on the handle with me.

Forget Kites, Storks or Gulls. Robins will do me come the revolution.

So today, for Juneathon, I have been mostly worn out.

A difficult cycle to work took far longer than it should. 10 seconds under 15mph average for the 15.4 miles was a bit slower than I’d reckoned. But it is uphill overall, two of them stink, one is just a long gentle slog and the wind was against me. Plans to jog from work were forgotten with priorities being to save a bit of energy for the ride home.

The ride home averaged 18.1mph with a breeze behind me and the associated nett downhill making it nicer.

But when I got in I needed to run (Juneathon being predominantly a running challenge, after all, and me searching for 100 miles overall. Or is it 75 overall? I’ll decide as energy levels equal out). So I changed shorts, pulled on my running shoes (as opposed to cycling ones. I don’t use clipped pedals and disco slippers, even on my road bike (or racer, as we used to call them when they weren’t trendy), I stick to DMR V12 flat pedals for everything. Their grip is all I’ve ever needed to keep full rotation of the pedal stroke under power. The difference to my running trainers is they’re flat and stiff to grip the pedal, rather than contoured for road/trail grip) and went for a jog.

Or tried to. My legs were moving like Bambi on ice and it wasn’t pretty. Less pretty than usual. Very bad. But 2.6 miles around local lanes was done, 7.42 average pace maintained and now it’s time to sleep before I repeat the effort tomorrow.

Maybe.

Ah, the 80’s. So yesterday. Janathon 29.

Today has been spent inside a cloud.

Hawkinge (AKA village of doom, shittest place on earth, most depressing place to work ever. A couple were meant to look at one of the houses on the estate on Saturday. Not knowing the area they arrived an hour before the viewing to look around. Half an hour before they cancelled. They didn’t like it up there. Sensible people. It really is shit. Imagine, if you’ve never been to Hawkinge, putting your head inside a particularly fragrant, surprisingly loose cow’s arse. During bowel evacuation time. with another cow stood on your foot. It’s that shit.) has seen nothing but drifting water all day. The kind that makes you soaking wet in 30 seconds without any raindrops actually falling. Except that for most of the day rain has fallen, too. The grey material (mist? Nope – visibility less than 1000yards. Fog? Nope – no advection or any other vection present. I was quite vexed though. Just simply moisture droplets in cloud form scudding past at eye level and below) is the most depressing stuff ever. At least it was warmer.

Except that wasn’t much of a bonus. 15 minutes before I set off for the run I knocked a scaffold board off the pile I was walking past. Having just passed it, the board fell straight down onto my left outer rear knee bit, the sticky out bone on top of the calf. It hurt a surprising amount so I headed back to the office and got changed. But didn’t know what top to wear. A long sleeved running top was right for the heat. But I knew I’d get cold once soaked (around 8 seconds in) So I opted to overheat but stay dry in my fleece running top. Along with a rapidly stiffening knee, it wasn’t to be a promising run.

And exectations were lived up to. Uninspired, tired, left knee hurting on the inside as well on the newly hit bit, right heel playing up, right foot bridge making me roll my foot oddly. I wish Janathon was over.

Except around 2 miles in when I realised I was past my target 186 miles for the month. All done. Target acquired and executed. Tick (in a Justin Lee-Collins style). But 6.2 miles to the next target (10k a day). So on I plodded. No air punch involved.

Once back I changed and again reached for the computer to play some odd music. Today was a mix of Buzzcocks which inspired (don’t ask how my brain works) Fergal Sharkey’s A Good Heart. My god. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the video before. I wasn’t going to watch it today (I intended writing the diary with musical accompaniment) but couldn’t take my eyes off it. Are any 80’s cliches (musical, style, fashion, hair) not complete? Even the nasty moustache is fully represented. Shocking.

Then I realised I was out of the 80’s in mileage, too. Just inside 190 miles I now need fewer than 5 per day to reach 200, a mere mile per day to exceed 10k per day. My knee has stiffened enormously since I’ve been home but surely I can get out for at least a mile tomorrow?

Hopefully there isn’t that much of a sting in Janathon’s tail, is there? Maybe – when I got home, the rain gauge in the back garden is registering a mere 1mm for the day. Just 15 miles (as the crow flies) from site. Did I mention Hawkinge is shit?

Short and bitter. Can it get any colder? Janathon the cold.

If this year has done anything for my resolve, I hope it’s to make me determined not to sign up next year. At least not to running everyday. Maybe internal activities with the occasional venture outside if it’s suitably clement. The only problem is, that’s pretty much like the rest of my year.

I don’t think I can take much more coldness. Hopefully it’ll warm up tomorrow. I haven’t warmed up in the slightest all day. My site is in Hawkinge. 3 degrees colder than Folkestone below it, we still have 4 inches of snow covering everything while Folkestone (2 miles away) hasn’t a drop left. It didn’t warm above -2 degrees all day. Spending a day there is the most uninspired I’ve been in 25 years at work. I don’t think I’ll warm up all weekend, if I’m honest.

My runs today were horrible, unsatisfying affairs but at least I’ve maintained my 6 a day target. Legs are now throbbing, toes hurt with cold, two toenails have delaminated today (I guess in the cold) and I’ll see if they survive until things warm up along with my toes being bright crimson with broken capillaries. My foot still hurts but it’s again no worse. My heel is playing up worse again but I’ll try to sort that before bed. My knee seems to have eased right off. Or maybe it’s frozen.

Not a happy Janathoner but the last weekend of January last year was so much worse anything is an improvement.

Did someone say 6 days to go? Hoo fucking ray.

Time is running out and Janathon day 10

With the month almost a third through, were it like my runs I’d be calculating the exact mileage against either known run distance or that measured on GmapsPedometer. It’s just something I love doing around third distance – work out how tired I feel, check I’ve no injuries, calculate time and speed without the Garmin telling me and tick off the hundredths of miles until the threshold has been passed.

By the time I’ve done that I’m usually well clear of the distance and pressing on for the half way stage without realising even if I am absolutely knackered and that I should turn around before I do myself some damage.

As it is, I’m merely getting annoyed that by the time I get home and eat and build the fire and wash up and log my runs (SportTracks and RunningFree in case one fails. Wish I’d kept up writing them down like in the good old days) and blog, I’ve run out of energy to pop into the garage and press on with the windows.

This evening’s frustration was the computer taking 10 minutes to get to the logging in screen (I know when I started – the chimes of doom that herald another suicidal journey to the East End (or at least a shitty tv set…it’s so lifelike, who’d know the difference?) were ringing out from the other room and I was desperate to drown them out with some aversion therapy instead of leaving this bit and potentially missing something decent. Guess I shouldn’t have bothered.) and everything being so slow that 26 minutes had passed before I even clicked onto WordPress to start the blog. And before anyone states the obvious “get the computer to multi-task – it can do more than one operation at once” (ok, it’ll only be the voices in my head say that, since my readers are only imaginary), it can’t. The Garmin won’t successfully transfer info while anything else is running; Sporttracks won’t upload if Runningfree is open and neither will it work the other way around. I resort to Freecell between clicks, the kettle (placed on the woodburner as I light it to save money on hot water for the washing up. Yep, I’m that tight) not having boiled yet so washing up not being an option. Those 26 minutes are equivalent to 3.29 miles at my overall Janathon running average speed (7.54 per mile). Despite the pain, I think I’d rather do that.

Today’s run was 6.6 miles at exactly that average speed. It was a new route consisting of known loops and wouldn’t have been so long if I hadn’t checked a few options before I left and thought as I approached 4 miles that I’d opted for the shorter one which would bring me up under 6 once back at work. I added a little return loop to kink the distance up, then realised my error about half a mile up the road. Silly boy, I’ll tack a bit on the end next time. It wasn’t a bad run but was absolutely filthy – I felt on the verge of cross-country at times despite all being on tarmac but that’s narrow lanes, overwidth vans using them and soft verges, I guess.

So I plod on towards one third distance. And much like a run, as soon as I contemplate the distance I’ll be beyond it. In days, at any rate. Fingers crossed we escape the worst of the weather – Hawkinge (being on top of the Downs, right above the sea at Folkestone) is always useless in inclement weather – I don’t want to have to divert to the seafront or the bypasses around home if it does turn out bad but don’t want to reduce distance either. Hopefully the BBC weather forecasters will predict barrages of snow, wind and freezing temeratures. Then at least we’ll be sure it’ll be a heatwave, the useless cunts.

Ah, well, we’ll see.

Bruce Lee

All plans were off today.

My avoidance of proper injury seemed to have come to an end as I got up and as well as the usual cracking and stuff from every joint below the waist, I had acquired a spiteful pain in my left foot. Not a pain of the metatarsal bursitis variety that I gave myself last Janathon but a wincing one nonetheless. From the sole just forward of my heel, upwards through the instep towards the ankle.

Wondering if it was just another thing to add to my list of hiccups I began to worry as all my walking at work was accompanied by a little limp (a limpette?) which when I noticed it and moved to correct it and stride through normally, with a roll of the foot and some articulation of the ankle, produced the same wince of pain.

And this continued all day.

So I began to wonder if I’d head out tonight and either a) ruin it completely with a big run, ending Janathon on a high, b) treat it normally and hope it would go away or c) treat it gently and hope it would repair for a decent weekend.

All pondering eased as my phone went just as I was leavng site to report someone with total boiler failure and, while not my department, since I was there would I investigate? So I did. And 45 minutes later the resident had a working boiler, hot water and heating. And a site manager with a window for happy running gone up the swanny.

And so it was that I returned home and did dinner (I hesitate to say I cooked it, merely needing to warm some things through and boil some rice), made the fire, washed up and decided I’d dig around in my foot for any hard skin etc that might be making me carry myself awkwardly. And I found some odd bits which, with a combination of nail clippers, stanley knife and glasspaper, weren’t attached to my foot for long.

So with minimal time for marvellous Indian cuisine to settle down I headed out.

Feeling flat I simply did an extended loop of Park Farm in a workmanlike fashion, easing through the strides and not feeling anything amiss with my foot at all. Really quite exciting and making me curious about what the cause is, was or might be.

Being later than usual I saw 3 police cars on different patrols, two dog walkers and that was about it. A shortlived idea about tacking a mile on the end of the run was just that – shortlived. I wasn’t in the mood for excitement or a bigger challenge than actually getting out and seeing if I have got a run in me tomorrow, so I rolled home to clock in another 4 miles.

I seem to have somehow increased mileage for the week so far from last week, so maybe this year will be more successful than last. I can’t bear the thought of a messed-up February and March like then, though, so if something is wrong with my foot I am going to stop, simple as that. Fingers crossed I wake up fresh and I can enjoy another few miles in daylight.

130 runs, 96 exercises and 47 cycles to go.

End of year round-up

Overall it hasn’t been a disaster but around February/March time, it didn’t look good!

January saw Janathon and over 120 running miles. And a bit of damage to my foot that I simply ran through before having a poor February trying to work out why it felt broken and a rubbish March with no running miles while I rested to try and repair it. Cycling took on a bigger role as the months went by, though, so overall fitness remained reasonable.

April saw a week off and the opportunity to see someone about the foot. A temporary shoe insert helped recovery and this, combined with a week of cycling everywhere, saw monthly mileage go beyond 300 for combined activities…suddenly my 2011 mile challenge looked beatable, instead of growing ever larger as a weekly target in front of me.

May saw a return to normality with cycles to work increasing along with running confidence. A fresh pair of shoes (Adidas…never thought I’d wear a pair of these for running!) brought all sorts of advances in running. Never have a pair of feet been so revitalised as by a simple, well advised purchase.

June saw Juneathon. Two races, several million cycles to work (or so it felt in the rain and wind) and 699 overall miles, including my targetted 50 running miles as a return to normal.

July saw my first ever 5k race (on July 1st, so not entirely rested after the cycling and last day of June run) as well as a recovery into normal cycling and enjoying the summer. And it all went downhill from there, really! Mileage decreased but joy increased as both running and cycling became less something I “must” do and became things that I simply had fun doing again. As far as the weather went, it being a cooler than normal summer suited me fine. And so things progressed through August.

September saw me bemoaning the imminent loss of my hilly country lane for repeat sessions, and through the autumn (while the temperatures returned to April levels) I continued to hunt for enjoyable runs around Rye. Still haven’t found any, but alternative hilly routes at least exist to keep fitness levels up.

November was a dull month of repetition; December has ended at a whimper. Lows have been a cold knocking me back as I tried to rest to lose it before my trip to Paris; highs definitely the run through Paris to the Arc de Triomphe. The last week has seen a couple of short jogs and a few short cycles. Nothing to excite in any way but to simply get out and maintain activity through a Christmas of decoration and floor laying.

And so to Janathon 2012 and some 2012 goals.

Injury free is the main aim. I’ll try to run through Janathon and Juneathon this year. A target of 3 decent runs per week surrounded by single mile outings should see mileage sensible at around 75 total, I think. A cycle each weekend will keep me honest, too, I hope. Nothing epic but something to make the legs remember they’re for more than plodding is the plan.

Instead of a total mileage challenge (2011 saw the 2011 mile challenge beaten with a comfortable margin, even if the figures don’t look epic-I didn’t count many cycle rides after October, so totals dropped as the challenge end came into view), I’m going for a quality challenge this year. Several goals make it up.

General exercise (either weights, press-ups and sit-ups etc, use of the rowing machine) made a resurgence towards then end of this year and I feel better for it. To this end, I’m targetting 150 runs (over 1 mile to allow some slacking with the Jan and June runs all counting, but to be realistic and allow rest after a few planned races as well as a couple of down weeks with colds and the like). 100 “general exercise” sessions, be they weights or combinations of press-ups, rows, sit-ups, chin-ups or whatever co-ordinated into a 20 minute or more pulse raising activity. 50 cycles of 5 miles or more (to exclude commutes to the station and back unless they include a detour, even if it is on the BMX, but to allow two cycles from a commute to work – 16 miles each way counts! Also to exclude simple outings to buy a paper unless a detour is included in the route). That should give me about 60 days off through the year which will be increased with a few multi-task days reducing the burden.

The plan is a stronger, fitter man with some time to enjoy working in the garden but also the ability to take on a challenge or two without wilting at the prospect. Races will be an opportunity to see how well I’ve done as a rounded “athlete” rather than to destroy myself in the pursuit of pb’s.

Happy new year.

And let Janathon commence.

I hate flags and the smell of shit

A better evening of sleep and recovery enabled me to get out of bed and only have to hold my head in my hands for a few seconds, silently crying to myself that my life must be able to offer more than this, before managing to get up, eat and leave for work on my pedal cycle. The cycle that has 20 gears, skinny tyres and dropped handlebars.

It nearly had very little of anything as I exited Appledore and cut a blind junction only to realise that a quiet car can defeat my ears and be just where I don’t want it just when I don’t want it there, though. Very close shaves at 06.30 can be done without. Tomorrow (and always in future, it’s fair to say), the junction will be treated as such.

The ride in was otherwise dull. The daily wind-farm check at Brookland revealed only one to not be working and otherwise it was a fair pedal in.

The day had worrying things in store, though, notably the revelation that I can become obsessed with something over the course of 8 hours. Today my obsession was flags. We have two poles at the sales car park in the dip of the site and three at the entrance on the highest part of Udimore on the edge of Rye. The two in the dip are variously affected by the hedges and building they’re near; the three are exposed to prevailing everything.

Needless to say I kept forlornly looking at the lower two since they were fluttering in a not too bad “wind will be slightly against me but mostly sideways on the way home” style. The top three were best ignored. Nothing but a stiffening breeze was showing on them. And all directly as a headwind for the journey.

I managed to put it out of mind, though, until I set off and for the fifty yards off site and up the hill things were ace. Then I turned the corner and had a veritable gale blowing straight at me. Throught the town things were average; the main 7 mile straight to Appledore, however, was evil.

The upshot was a bike with effectively 6 gears. 14 had simply been eradicated by the wind. Passing the Environment Agency depot at Scott’s Float in third gear, their two flags as stiff as a very stiff thing and directly into my face, I was feeling annoyed. Even cycling on the extreme right of the road as a runner might to try to gain some shelter from the hedge had little effect. I simply couldn’t get above 7th gear without slowing and gradually grinding down the cogs to regain some momentum.

And on the journey went. A full 20 minutes longer to do the 15.5 miles than a quick time; 15 minutes longer than usual. And all noisy, horrible miles. Not a good commute. Certainly not good for legs that have to do the same again in the morning.

And the run was thus postponed until just after 20.00 when I’d done my bits in the greenhouse and the essential chores. A decision to change the insoles in my New Balance shoes for some footbed variety saw me sat in the sitting room, swapping bits and wondering how they looked clean (mud residue but no claggy bits and generally ok) but smelled of shite. I kept sniffing my hands, the soles, the 2 pairs of insdoles – all to no avail. Well, apart from giving JogBlog something to laugh about with my seemingly odd behaviour. The I put two and two together and looked up. And Lo! There was the biggest turd a cat has ever laid, winking at me from the rug in front of the fire. No wonder I could smell shit…I was living in it. And JB couldn’t smell a thing. I think the term is “Bastard Cat” followed by “Get out” followed by “Don’t come back”. Only because she fell over this morning and hurt JB’s shoulder in her attempt to recover is she still clinging onto a home…she’d better stay clumsy and amusing if shitting in the lounge is to continue!

So, a meagre 2 miles was outed, a simple jog up the hill to the cinder track, a run along it involving the passing through of 10 kissing gates, and a return home which all seemed fine except for the oddest thing ever upon returning. As I sat down to turn on the computer, it was as though someone turned a tap on from my upper body. Sweat ran out of me for a minute before I gave up and stood under the shower in a attempt to stop it. Never happened before, hopefully it won’t again, but this Juneathon lark is doing funny things to me.

1122.03 miles to go.

63.29 Juneathon cycling miles

3.96 Juneathon running miles

Foot repair, cycling and age related problems

Today is the day my mother chose many, many years ago to expel me from within so today, mostly, I have been getting older.

As well as celebrating the fact by taking the old folks (and Cathy) to the pub, I’ve got the week off to enable me to see the dentist, get my eyes tested and have a haircut. What a rock and roll week. The icing on the cake being a visit to the local (affiliated to the running track shop) podiatrist to see what isn’t right with my running.

Lots, really.  Several people have been urging me to see someone who knows things over the last couple of years and I’ve dabbled in the past but not really commited until something’s gone wrong and while nothing drastic has changed this time, having to have 2 months off running for an injury is frustrating. So off I went.

Turns out my shoulders are fine, my arms work ok (seems podiatry isn’t the only string to the medicine woman’s bow!) and I don’t have any twisting or odd movement while I run but, largely as a result of my bandy legs, I do foot-strike a bit oddly. Some of it may be down to carrying myself oddly to protect the previously fractured right leg from damage but, while my right foot does most things correctly (slight oddness of alignment between ankle and shin but it self-corrects through foot strike and toe-off), my left rotates weirdly after lift off, strikes awkwardly, doesn’t roll through powerfully and lifts before the toe pushes off, throwing everything else off kilter.

Basically, through the punishment (not much…I didn’t go far!) of no rest days through Janathon, the effects have been exascerbated to develop into (and I’ve forgotten all the technical terms through not writing them down when she offered!) swollen fluid sacks that seperate the ligaments that control the bits around the metatarsal bones resulting in rubbing, pain and the inability to run cleanly.

Simply put, I need to run less and recover more. And heel strike more but I shouldn’t change my running style for fear of other injuries, she says…but I developed away from heel striking as I got faster (it’s all relative to a sloth!) so maybe I’m going to slow down for the longer more intensive runs and be sensible, returning to heel-strike form if I can and see if that manages things without recourse to the alternative…which is what I’ve got to give a try…I’ve now got some invalid style shoe inserts to try over the course of the next month to see if that encourages proper foot use.

So, summing up, I run like an invalid and now I’ve got the shoes to match. Yay! But I’ve also got a doctor’s letter excusing me from overexercising. More yay! (unless I correct things. Bah!)

So I reckon that my cycling will be the way to avoid middle age stomach spread for the majority of my miles. I’m enjoying the bike at the moment – I’ve put over 30 miles in just during the last 3 odd days, so it isn’t a hardship. But it doesn’t quite give the same satisfaction as a run.

So I’ve instructions to try the insoles slowly over the coming week before gentle running and increasing things while staying comfortable until a visit to see how things are doing next month. That I shall do. And monitor how things are developing on here in the meantime.

1649.16 miles to go. I haven’t been cycling that far, I’ve barely scratched the surface (but the garden is looking good!)