Wearing out

A day of humidity followed the morning cycle to work, which may have been the highlight of the day.

Very little wind, all of it behind me, didn’t set things off too badly. The day itself was busy, but in a productive way for a change, and the rain shower that seemed to be thunder everywhere but work did little to clear the air. It did, however, seem to strengthen the wind, which was into my face all the way home. Which was later than usual, what with having to lock up and that.

Still, Cathy had surpassed herself with a free curry mix, so that went down a treat. Followed by the worst attempt at mince pie making i’ve ever done (couldn’t get the pastry right…swearing and everything…not very good!). Followed by a run. Of 2.5 miles. Slowly, with an aching pair of lower legs. Just the niggling sort that I want to go away.

Still, it’s June. Yay for that. Just need to get around to blogging my energy bars. I’ll sort the photos and do it.

ps. Haven’t given up on the sit-ups, just not including them here. Maybe do a summary at the end of the month. 4mm rain.

No Garmin

Strange things they are a happening, it seems. Firstly I left about 10 minutes late for work this morning (well, not 10 minutes late as it were, just 10 minutes later than planned) but was only 5 minutes late when I arrived. Then the ride home involved a detour around an accident we weren’t allowed to see and i’m not a fan of detours on the pushbike when I want to get home. And then, as I was detouring, it started raining.

That wasn’t too bad, though. The bad bit was arriving home and the rain giving up for a while, lulling me into a false sense of dryness while I broke up the old chest of drawers (now own a pair of handmade oak units instead of one, with added capacity for Cathy’s animal sock collection) and sawed some logs up, only to start again as running time arrived.

Still, I quite like rain, as long as it’s not windy.

What I don’t like, though, is the Garmin playing up.

I realised something was odd as I got to my half mile spot and it was showing 0.4, along with the virtual partner showing a slow pace. And now, it’s just taken 4 attempts (including 2 in the foolproof force send mode), to get the data onto the computer. The first time, it seemed to go through but no run was logged. Now it’s on, it shows me starting at the 50mph speed sign instead of at home, with some furious zig-zagging along the route. Maybe my praise of it in the rain the other week can be taken back. Maybe i’m being overly critical.

I guess all that’s important is that Juneathon is still on target, 2.6 miles were done (or fewer if I take the reading from today’s effort. Which i’m not.) at approx. 7.36 pace, 16 miles (including the detour) were cycled and now i’m going to collapse for an hour.

While cursing the Garmin.

Juneathon III is on!

Well, the day has arrived. A bit earlier than i’d hoped, what with waking up at 4am and being unable to get back to sleep. Not even a little bit. Not good.

Still, the actual get up went well, the cycle was dragged out of the garage at 6.30 and off I set. Just a fraction under 8 miles and 35 minutes later (nasty, nasty headwind), I arrived a sweating heap at work.

So, 10 hours later, I closed down the computer, got changed and pedalled home. All just under 8 miles of it in 28 minutes. Yep, it’s amazing what a following wind and lots of downhill can do.

But it’s June.

That means Juneathon. Do something different in the way of exercise.

So, on arriving home, I was loath to simply marvel at my splendid girlfriend making pizza. I didn’t want to sit down with a cold drink and recover. Well, yes, I did. But that’s not what it’s about. So I simply changed shorts, pulled on my trusty and knackered Asics gel cumulus 10’s (ps. has anyone else seen that Gavin Pretor-Pinney is attempting to name a new species of cloud? Mmm, interesting.), got a signal on my Garmin and set off for my 2.6 miles loop.

And no, my legs don’t transition from pedalling to running very well. Not when it’s this hot, anyway. Still, after about a mile I settled into a pace, passed Cathy’s ankle twisting corner, said hello to her cows, baa’d at some sheep, couldn’t believe how many flies a dead rabbit can accumulate and turned up the road to head home. All at an average 7.40 pace.

I’ll do some press and sit-ups later, but will add them to the roll tomorrow. Until then:

Day 1; 15.5 miles cycled. 2.6 miles run. Success!

Time to stretch, I think.

The start of the year

June 30th. The end of Juneathon.

Today, a return to reality at work. I even managed to finish about 5.15, but still felt weary after the weekend, so settled to bow out in shame, 29 out of 30 juneathons and a finale of 4.2 miles. The run was even relatively uneventful…one girls skirt being blown up along the seafront, two seperate heckles from the overweight audience as I ran, both girls, both probably the apple of their father’s eye, both equally so ugly even the boys of Hastings haven’t got them pregnant yet despite them surely being overdue at all of 15 years old. The abuse thing seems to be growing, unless it’s because i’m running more in the summer than I usually do so there are a few people out to see and thus abuse me. It’s all fun though. And since I was pushing on a bit, I was sufficiently out of breath to resist informing them either a) they’re wrong in their assumption of my childhood being fatherless or b) I’m sure a forest can’t run, trees don’t have legs. Oh yes, to celebrate Juneathon being over (and nothing to do with wanting to go shopping, listen to I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue, eat, blog and water the greenhouse, honest!), I outed the run in 28 minutes 40 seconds. A fraction under the 7 minute mile pace i’m targeting for my next 10k, assuming I do it on the flat. And I thought i’d lost my pace over the month!

So, the embarrasing statistics:

June 1: 3.5 miles

June 2: 3.0 miles

June 3: 4.2 miles

June 4: 4.2 miles

June 5: 2.0 miles

June 6: 2.1 miles

June 7: 3.7 miles

June 8: 1.0 miles

June 9: 4.2 miles

June 10: 3.5 miles

June 11: 4.0 miles

June 12: 4.2 miles

June 13: 1.0 miles

June 14: 1.0 miles

June 15: 1.0 miles

June 16: 0.7 miles

June 17: 2.1 miles

June 18: 5.4 miles

June 19: 1.0 miles

June 20: 4.2 miles

June 21: 2.1 miles

June 22: 2.1 miles

June 23: 1.0 miles

June 24: 0.7 miles

June 25: 1.1 miles

June 26: 4.2 miles

June 27: NO JUNEATHON!!!!!!

June 28: 1.5 miles

June 29: 3.8 miles

June 30: 4.2 miles.

Total: A mere 72.5 miles. Still loads more than the 13 miles I did last June, though. But I was preparing for a mountainbike race last June and in France for it for the last 3 days of the month, so that’s understandable.

So tomorrow, i’ll rest. Well, do a bit of upper body stuff, to be honest. And ride the bike a bit. But that may wait until Wednesday. I’ll probably run again on Thursday to prepare for the possibility of a small race on Sunday, we’ll see.

29/30 Juneathons. 286 cars. 1 massive show of appreciation to Joggerblogger on his mileage and to everyone else taking part – hopefully you’ve enjoyed the challenge as much as I. Don’t think i’ll join Jogblog in a Veganthon during July, though, that’s a challenge too far! And as for no alcohol…

 

Ah, Friday. Thank Juneathon!

Not only did the genius who is Jogblog encourage me to start the blog (well, her and the thought of doing Juneathon but only having a record in my usual running log for the effort), I also get the benefit of abusive comments to keep me laughing for hours when I need to explore how the posting blogs malarky works. It’s all good and cheering on a Friday evening when again i’m too tired after work to go out. But then, having been out on Monday and Thursday, run each night (if one milers count as runs…i’m not logging them in my runs book as i’ve no desire to remember what a wimp I am as I look back on the year in runs and trainers and that) and everything else killing me at work, I suppose I shouldn’t be too greedy.

After failing again at work, I was about to leave when Tony sneeringly asked if I wasn’t going for a run. I said no, then instantly changed my mind…what better way to close out the week rather than leg it around the village when I get home. So, 4.2 miles of seafront, no errant testicles, shagging dogs or similar deviant excitement but I did get the benefit of two “youths” taking the piss on the way out, as well as a return comment on the way back. Shame it was the same comment. The boys are so thick, they can’t even come up with an original insult. I was probably wrong to stop and offer advice but if I can’t begin to educate them, who will? I’m guessing their mothers are too full of hate for their latest boyfriend to bother, school clearly failed and i’m an optimist at heart (bloody well concealed, but really!) so with any luck, they’ll at least think about stringing together a sentence without a string of swear words next time, possibly with more than one syllable. But I don’t hold out much hope. Good job I can run faster than them, anyhow…

Ok, the week’s done, tomorrrow i’m hoping for a decent day for a jump but it’ll be ace anyway and the worse the weather, the better the run…promised a 5.4 miler at least even though my legs are ruined, so we’ll see.

4.2 miles, 314 cars, trace of rain, 2 educated louts.

Back to form

I’ve been growing frustrated at the small runs, low mileage, high frequency demanded by my pathetic legs and Juneathon, so promised today would be the change.

Despite the early start needed to get to the far side of the M25 for a temporary works course, I was feeling confident. The event started early, finished early, gave a good excuse to rib a director for showing us Engineering porn (well, that’s what I took the piss out of him for, anyway – what else do you call a time frame edit of the placement of the new bridge over Liverpool Street station, which then flows into a slightly quicker version, then flows into a normal time highlight version, zooming in on some bolt clusters along the way to get the boffins’ juices really flowing? Honestly, it was disgusting! I felt it my duty to have a word. After last week’s efforts (only three important people left to wind up and i’ll have achieved the full house…), I wonder how long i’ll have a job for?) but meant I got home an hour earlier than usual. Happy running.

So I got straight out of the car, put on some shorts and the trusty Sauconys made a drink and left. Now, easing my way down the hill, the left shin was letting me know it was tight. After feeling like it had all the energy in the world while sitting down all day, too. The git. Still once onto the back lane, watching rabbits took my mind off it, I stopped to loosen my right lace at the halfway mark, started off and remembered it hurt. So took to the grass verge, lengthened my stride, set for home and realised with 1/4 miles to go that it hurt less than my right calf and knee now were. I think i’m about 300 years old, effective age, and it’s not fair. Been stretching for the last 3 odd hours now and things feel easier, but hey, i’ll wait for the morning. It feels good to have done a longer run at last this month.

So, 5.4 miles (just under 45 minutes for the time so close to my personal worst pace!). 324 cars.

 

 

A quick, disappointing, Sunday

An odd day. I awoke reasonably early, thought i’d sack off skydiving, had breakfast then changed my mind. So I toddled off to the club, put my name down for my practice qualifying jump and waited. Got in the air about half 10, jump went perfectly, the cloud rolled in so I left to have some lunch and predictably couldn’t settle, so went back.

Now the pattern seems to be I mess up jumps in the afternoon. And today was no different.

Feeling slightly subdued now.

The first points went perfectly. Stable on exit, 360 right turn followed by 360 left, all complete by 6500ft. Backloop was ever so crisp and sharp, stable, alti on just under 6000. Waved off, turned 180 perfectly, went into the track position and started going in circles instead. Balls. So, adjusted my shoulders to no avail, knew time was passing so came out, stabilised and pulled, glimpsing my alti just under 3000ft. Too low, but not a real crime.

I thought.

I was putting turns under canopy at 2250ft, landed nicely, then the grief began. I’m being pilloried from all quarters for opening late, the lowest guess was pulling at just above 2000ft and, with me not being in the mood to argue (well, i’d once again proved to myself that when something matters to me I mess it up and fail. Can’t seem to achieve success at any of the things that would really improve my life, so I was already wondering how long my state of dejection would take to clear), I stated my case, apologised to those that matter, looked on in bemusement at the faces of those that didn’t while they made their noises, and looked forward to getting home.

So, if I can summon the spirit to face more grief, next week will be another attempt. Takes the shine off a good weekend jumping, really, as though it’s a serious thing i’m meant to be so intense about it’s beyond enjoyment until i’m an expert. Balls. When it gets that dear to me, please remind me and i’ll give up.

Oh well, exercise has just been completed, i’m going for my mile run now (legs feel a touch freer, i’ll still do just a mile, though).

Probably won’t blog tomorrow as i’ll be leaving work early to go out until late…will have to tie in Juneathon with a run to the station (0.7 miles each way…is that 0.7 miles twice, or 1.4miles that takes 6 hours?!) and a jog to catch trains…unless I run between the pubs to the restaurant. Would carrying someone between pubs count extra?

326 cars. 1 messed up QJ. 1 exciting night out to look forward to.

Not done yet…

After yesterday’s pathetic token of a Juneathon run, I thought i’d keep up the style in an attempt to repair the leg damage without messing up the run a day theory. So I got up unnecessarily early for a Saturday, put out the washing, jogged down the road and back for a mile’s effort and had breakfast.

Then left on the mountainbike for the parachute club, arriving at 8.30. Still, it’s only 2 miles away and buying the paper on the way there didn’t take long. Noticing the girl in the shop’s top appearing even tighter occupied my brain for a few minutes though, and possibly cost a minute on the journey…I wouldn’t normally comment on a young ladies’ attributes, honest, but over the past year or so they’ve come to so closely resemble a dead heat in a zepplin race it’s soon going to get difficult to get near the counter, I shouldn’t be surprised. Still, after slapping myself about the face, calling myself all sorts of wrongs and a quick pedal, it was throwing away the plane time, and what fun.

A good exit, an instant of error to spin me upside down for a bit, (when i’m a sky god i’ll practice this all the time, I reckon, it’s simply ace…who needs formations? Just spin, tumble and act like a cretin, I reckon!) a good recovery, good forward motion including turns and a textbook flight under canopy and landing mean i’m theoretically ready for qualification. But there’s a lot to pack into a Qualifying Jump (everything i’ve learnt so far, compressed into a 25 second freefall, basically), so i’m opting for a practice QJ and if that goes well, 1 jump and i’m there. Which I ought to have done this afternoon, but the clouds rolled in and as they looked settled, I came home. There’s always another day, I reckon, rather than wait too long, get a jump when i’m tired and mess it up. Don’t really want to mess them up too badly, 12000ft. is along way down after all!

All followed by the ride home (I popped back at lunch too, so 8 miles total…can I claim this as my bit of cross training?!) which included much wheelieing, many hops, two worthwhile manuals and a skid. Got to end on a skid…

Which left the lawn to mow and greenhouse to water. Nice.

A trace of rain. 1 Juneathon mile. 8 cycled miles. 333 cars.

Should I be proud?

 I’m so happy with my growing cucumber, I thought i’d add a picture. Well, shame not to really.

Only managed a solitary mile this evening, just to the crossroads plus a bit then back. My left shin really is playing up so feel it best…hopefully be back to a 4ish miler tomorrow. With any luck, not having seen anyone elses plums! I think i’m still traumatised.

1 Juneathon mile. 338 cars.

Like the shrunken testicles of an ageing morris dancer

I’ve been feeling a mounting panic and pressure at work, probably for not much reason, but then these things rarely are in my experience. Even if they are, the greater scheme of things probably won’t be altered by my activities and it’s this in the back of my mind that helps keep things pleasant. But challenging a visiting superior to the site to sack me for not following company policy on a couple of issues, while providing me personally with merry amusement, may not have been too effective in my “how to keep your head below the parapet” job security policy. I’ll wait for his report to assess the shrapnel damage.

I spent the afternoon considering my cucumbers and the sheep in the field behind my house. They’ve had their summer haircut and look ridiculous, all goggle eyed and skinny, but then they possibly think the same of me so  I won’t tell them…there’s 22 of them to throw abuse back, after all. When not thinking of this or the run, the time flew and the seafront beckoned. Along with the rain starting just as I left the office. I thought it might be nice to get wet from the outside for a change, but it stopped after about a mile so I was left pondering my leg pain. Which is a bit harsh, so a short run may be tomorrow’s recipe. Still, I had a shock at about 2.5 (I’ll go decimal to avoid 1/2 mile confusion from now on…anything to help!) miles in…

I’ve never seen anything so hideous as the bloke running toward me, all vest and short, short shorts with HIS BOLLOCKS HANGING OUT OF HIS LEFT LEG.

Yep, two knackers. His cods on display. A pair of swinging plums. Thank god I couldn’t see his emaciated spam javelin; instead of nearly crying in horror and laughter, i’d probably have chundered over him if I had, but wow! I new my eyes hated me before, but this was new depths. Fashion police? Surely just the police would do!

Suffice to say, the run back to the office seemed to pass in a flash…

Then in the car, taking the slow route through Silverhill, I spotted the most orange legs of my career…really dayglow to half way up the calves, then tango to the skirt line.

Hastings, you did me proud today.

Oh, and 12mm rain. 4.2 Juneathon miles. 346 cars.