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Crazy folk!

When Kim & I were in Seattle in June, we met Nigel & Kristin’s friends Claudia & Russell.  All six of the aforementioned could be described as certifiably crazy to some extent, but I think, right at this moment, Russell takes the podium.

To see what I mean, keep an eye on the trip-site http://devon.irvacationtohell.com/ over the coming weeks.

There are not many people daft enough to paddle in the Arctic Circle where the sea at the get-in is currently still frozen, let alone a 60-mile open sea crossing, then portage their kayaks & gear across a frozen island for a week before paddling some more, including either another 40 mile open crossing or a 100-mile detour.  And all in a generally northerly direction.  The trip is expected to take six weeks out of an Arctic summer window of only 8-10 weeks.

See the madman & one of his compadriates talking about the trip at http://www.immersionresearch.com/2008/03/21/interviews-with-the-sweetwater-crew/#more-114 

If you still need persuading, further evidence, (along with the entry for next year’s competition if you’re completely crazy too), at http://www.irvacationtohell.com/

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Chaste

Okay, so it was only a little chase, but the snow-white yap-jack-russell was called Lola and it greatly amused the assembled hikers at Blackcap to see it running along, trying to bite my heels, or scare me away, or say hello, or… maybe it’s Duracell’s were running down and it thought I might have some replacements… I just don’t know.  With six strides to each of mine, it quickly tired of the chase, or maybe had a power outage.

Kim had dropped me at Jack & Jill again and whilst I am generally wary of running the same route more than once in short succession, I had decided to make an exception this time as the route was exactly 13.1 miles… the distance of a half marathon.

The wind was from the north today and in common with several days in the last week, varied phenomenally in temperature as the clouds drifted across the sun.  Cool, cool wind with the clouds, but when the sun shone it was instantly baking hot.  Great conditions for the light aircraft that was gliding on the thermals to the north of the Downs… it passed so close that I could almost reach out and touch it… but not slow enough that my unsteady hand could capture it in the camera frame!

The split times were all exactly the same as last Sunday, all the way to the turning point just beyond Blackcap at 47 minutes.  I forgot to check as I passed the trig point at Blackcap on the way back up the hill, on account of my being chased by a large white rodent at the time.

One of the reasons that I hate to duplicate runs is additional pressure it exerts, in two distinct ways.  First, you know how far the path ahead is so you can’t just run and enjoy the moment in the same way.  The question ‘will I match up to last week’s time’ is foremost in your mind, which adds the the same feeling.  Just by running the same route twice, you’re now in a race with yourself!

I couldn’t remember what time I did last week, otherwise at around the 1 hour 35minute-mark I wouldn’t have decided to try to break 2 hours.  It wasn’t a decision in terms of ‘must-do’, but rather a vague feeling that I had done last Sunday.  Not wanting to be a whole lot slower, I upped the pace where this felt comfortable to do.

There was certainly a subtle difference in how much energy I had, most notably where last week I was flagging by the time I reached the Industrial Estate, I was still running comfortably this time.  But I seemed to be losing the battle and the two-hour mark was looming.

As I crossed the railway line I knew I was beat, but I pushed on down the road as if the Bok was in front… trying to find that tricky balance between the best time and actually arriving at all.

I’ve been a little disappointed since arriving home at the eventual time… right up until I checked last week’s blog before starting this one.  I didn’t better two hours by two minutes, but I knocked six minutes off last week’s time, with all the gain being in the second half where it can really count.  6.44mph overall, but the first 5 miles to the turn were at 6.38mph, whilst the balance was at 6.48mph… subtle differences, but the last few miles were probably quicker still, as prior to that I was just trucking along.

I shan’t be repeating the exercise next week, but might try it again in a few week’s time to see if I’m improving.

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Visitors

Last weekend I had flat-packed the outgoing shed and Nick had called yesterday morning to give a 30 minute warning of his arrival to collect it.  Since the kitchen was still reeling from my having cooked the night before (both rare things), we had a quick whizz round to clear up.

Nick blamed the speed of John’s van for the additional 30 minutes it took him to arrive, but at least we got to sit and relax in the garden for a while before he arrived with Oliver and Sam.  The shed was duly loaded into what can only be described as a prime contender for the ‘builders van of the year, 1989’ and father and sons trundled off… driving over the kerb at the corner of the road in the process.  The big question is: will he blame the lack of a nearside mirror?

Kim & I set to in the garden, as much as an excuse to be outside as anything else.  Kim weeded whilst I chopped back an oversize philadelphus.  We had just reached a natural break, with all the of the aforementioned stuffed into three large garden sacks when the door-bell rang.

My brother Michael & Dad beamed at me as I opened the door… surprise!  Despite all the garden cushions being out, the rubbish bags and the open gardening book served to demonstrate our industriousness.  Phew!  I hate to be caught napping!

We sat in the warmth of the glorious afternoon catching up and Michael even got to road-test our latest KriKri coffee cup!

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Allarming night’s sleep

I’ve actually had two terrible night’s sleep as I sit and write this, but I wish to ignore last night & talk about the one before.

In amongst the myriad dreams and awakenings, I found myself running down the road with the Bok.  I knew I was dreaming because each time my legs started to hurt, I reminded myself I was still asleep and the pain went away.  Several times he disappeared ahead and each time I remembered my somnolence, pushed harder and caught up again. Quite strange.

The Bok is a very sharp cookie.  For two or three stiles on the trot, I arrived first and on reaching the far side ran off without waiting, giving me a good few yards head-start, which I might add, I need!  He didn’t let me reach the fourth stile first, nor any of the remaining ones, disappearing ahead with more vigour each time!

We headed out past Ote Hall and to the north of Wivelsfield where we found the Llamas above… they were SO funny, their fringes cut in what I can only describe as a very haute couture style… for a humble floor mop.  Each time I see them I remember my disbelief when luscious Debbs first told me they were there.  I know that they are really ole-packhams or something, but pyjama-llamas seem so much more fun!

We dropped into the centre of Wivelsfield and past the school.  The Bok likes to run through the school car-park where the footpath goes, while I favour the oncoming traffic along the road.  I waited until there were some trees separating us and I put in a quick sprint, slowing again by the time he could see me. 

This tactic meant that I arrived just ahead at the start of Hundred Acre Lane, which is a gentle hill that leads out of the village.  Here I reminded myself that I was still laying in bed and since it didn’t hurt, I pushed the pace a little.  About halfway up the hill my ploy was rewarded with an extremely gratifying beep-beep beep-BEEP!  Followed by a duplicate that belied the pain that the Bok was experiencing.

I gave a triumphant cheer… and increased my pace a little, knowing that he had nothing left and arrived at the top of the hill some distance ahead.  Maybe I wasn’t really dreaming… I was hurting now too!

After a short walk of recovery, we swooped down the trails through the wood and along to the industrial estate.  We took the magical path along towards the development site that used to be the sleepy St George’s Retreat, down across the Common and back towards the house.

As we approached the last stretch of road I sensed that the Bok was going to stretch his legs and get his own back and unfortunately I had little sleep left in me.  I pushed as hard as I could and though he was a little ahead at the end, it wasn’t the rout that he (and I) expected!

As we staggered past my neighbour, who looked on in mild amusement, the Bok delivered the statistics from the mighty bok-watch.  7.09 miles in one hour and two minutes.  A Sterling performance, one that he reckons is our fastest, certainly in the near distant past.  Only 6.86mph, but mixed in with a number of short walks were several significant stretches where we were running four minute km’s… he might remind me what the actual number was… you know how difficult it is to remember your dreams once you’ve woken up.

 

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Burgess Hill Runners Run

It was the Burgess Hill Runners 4.5 mile run today and as I passed the 3 mile marker, I glanced at my watch.  One hour, 54 minutes.  Something wasn’t right.  I squeezed past a few more people and then… I inhaled a fly.  There’s nothing more embarrassing in company and for that matter, audibly disgusting, than trying to hawk up a fly when you can no longer breath, so my apologies to those of you around me at the time.

There was probably a tiny ripple of confusion when I deviated from the path at the next junction, and disappeared.  What may not have been obvious from behind was the lack of a running number.  And the fact that I had already run about 12 miles.

Kim dropped me at Jack and Jill again today and I ran heartily along to Blackcap, making it there in 40 minutes.  Hoping that I might bump into Mark again, I ran a little further to the next gate before turning for home.  The climb back to Blackcap is hard work after the easy run down and I left there the second time around the 55 minute mark.

I passed Kim five minutes later, trying to hide from me behind some boy scouts and then, leaving her to continue, dropped down the scarp slope to Westmeston.  The route north from there is a Romanesque straight line with the occasional pretty house, one of which even has a ford and a small footbridge.

There was plenty of mud along the route but it still confuses me why there is always a slurry puddle on the corner where you turn left to go west into the woods.

I was running on low energy reserves by this point and I feel the same as I sit here writing!  But then, as I crossed the entrance to the industrial estate, I converged with the Burgess Hill Runners route.  There is nothing that peps you up more than running with other people and where the next five minutes would normally have been a stagger, I ran easily along.  Even after hawking the fly!

Spat back out onto my own, the true energy situation returned and I battled across the common and back up to the house.

The route was a perfect 21 km / 13.1 mile half marathon and my time of two hours eight minutes, whilst not great at 6.14mph, reflected the fact that this was really a gentle Sunday jog.

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Reunion (the rest of the explanation)

Last weekend was the 5th anniversary of my graduation from London Business School and a good number of SEMBA2003 returned to London to attend lectures and catch up with old friends… along with many other people from programs that graduated in 2003, 1998, 1993, 1988, 1983, 1978, 1973 and 1968.  It was an amazing opportunity to network and hear what is happening in industries right across the world.

I stayed there for the whole weekend and in the process had to shamefully miss Daren’s 40th birthday party (for which he flew in from the States for the day!) and the birth of Dai & Kath’s new baby girl, in favour of attending a dinner party for 50 in Primrose Hill.

Great fun though… looking forward to the ten-year reunion already!

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Surprise! (a partial explanation of my recent absence)

Kim & I dashed out to Seattle the week before last to Surprise my brother Nigel and more particularly Kristin, who was 50. Raaaa raaaa!

Our very good friends Carolyn & Scott had agreed to put up with us for the week and really were the perfect hosts, to such an extent that they invited Kristin & Nigel and their two house guests Claudia & Russell (who runs Sweetwater Kayaks in Florida) to dinner.  SURPRISE!

It was just great being in Seattle again where the folk are so friendly and the scenery so magnificent.  Look one way up N&K’s street to see Mount Rainier & the Cascades and the other way to see the Olympic Mountains.

I can’t begin to do the trip justice in full here, but the highlights included the Sebring convertible hire car (thankyou Amex!), buying & preparing salad with Scott (a story in itself), the surprise dinner (food and company), the brilliant party (though I’m really sorry to all those folk whose names I forgot or mixed up… not my memory’s finest hour!), the waterfalls in the Cascades, paddling the Whisky 16 (Nigel’s latest kayak design) with Nigel & Russell, playing (a lot of) guitar with Russell, Nigel and John Marshall, burgers in the 74th Street Ale House, grown up food at Ray’s Boathouse, seeing the Kri-Kri studio again, the Olympic Sculpture Park at the Seattle Art Museum (SAM), being re-aquainted with Alice & Richard’s amazing contemporary art collection, and the upgrade to flat-bed class on the return flight (thankyou NWA, whose Economy Class has way more room than the equivalent BA Cattle Class anyway!).

All in all, a fantastic trip, with special thanks again to Carolyn & Scott who made it all possible!

 Nigel & Kristin

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Wind at Mark two

This morning dawned windy and Kim decided that she would run/walk along the top of the Downs to break in her new shoes… and start to get back into the swing of things since hurting her knee skiing earlier in the year.  Despite new shoes, I wasn’t really in the mood, but she kicked me out into the ferocious wind at Jack and Jill anyway and off I ran.

The first thing to report about the new shoes is that they feel pretty much like the last ones… which is a good thing.  They really are extra light and super comfortable bearing in mind the range of nasty surfaces I run on.  My right shoe grazed my left heel a few times and I started to think the soles were spread more than before, until I realised it was the southerly wind blowing my foot across… it really was blowy up there.  I had fortunately opted for my Gore jacket this morning and iQ beanie and I really needed both!

I reached Ditchling Beacon in 15 minutes (I’m sure that we used to take 20) and continued east at a good pace.  The rain was sporadic at first, but every drop was supercharged by the wind and really stung my bare legs.  There was some kind of Horse event on, but it must have been organised by the queen from Alice in Wonderland as they were all going in different directions.

Having reached the Beacon so quickly, my plan was to head for Blackcap so that I could see just how much I had improved… progress certainly felt good.  I was busily tromping along, thinking that my pace was now strong enough that I should call Mark Johnson to arrange a long-overdue second run… when there he was, running towards me.  SO bizarre!

Deciding that Blackcap could wait for another day, I turned round and headed back towards the Beacon with Mark.  We passed Kim on the way, who was still heading out towards Blackcap, and the conversation helped to lessen the impact of the rain, which was starting to increase… or it might have been that Mark was running on the windward side of me!  We parted at the Beacon, agreeing to organise another run.

From here I ran down the track underneath the road and despite the stony conditions and exposed roots, I let the brakes off.  My normal speed is around 6 or 7mph, but the average for that one kilometer section was 9.375mph… I reckon some of my more intrepid peers could have run down quicker still, but not without being on the raggedy edge!

I dropped into Ditchling and climbed back out up to Oldlands Windmill.  I feel really sorry for these guys.  They had an open day a couple of months back but it was a glorious day without a hint of wind to turn the sails.  The people attending the one today were all huddled in the marquee out of the rain and wind… too much wind to allow the sails to turn!

Heading back towards home, I had to pass a dog-walker with her hood up… I was hoping that she or the dog would notice me approaching from behind as I didn’t want to just run past her in such a narrow space.  As it was, neither did and my spoken warning caused her to jump… visibly!  Very sorry ‘n all Miss!

The rest of the route home was as uneventful as it was windy and wet, but I finished at an acceptable pace and quickly jumped into the shower before I got cold.  The morning’s exertions had netted me 10.5 miles in one hour 35 minutes and had elegantly taken the shine of the new runners, shown below with Kim’s colour co-ordinated and equally wet & mud-splattered pair.

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New splodge

I still have some old posts to catch up on, but I thought that I’d get some new ones down while they are fresh in my ailing memory!  Yesterday was a red letter day, as, after threatening for some time, we finally made it down to the Run Shop.  It was a great choice of day to go as both Kurt and Fred were in there.

I spend a lot of time talking to my clients about good strategy and I’m going to write a short piece on my other site about this place, as it’s such a great example.

Suffice to say that the range, though not vast, is carefully selected from the perspective of runners and the guys engage with each customer to find out what they really need… and quite simply help them buy it.  No pressure sales here, just good old fashioned, quality service!

Kim’s shoes, though not high mileage, were getting on a bit, having seen life before the Berlin marathon in 2004.  My runners, though only bought last October, have been used extensively right through the winter mud, have probably clocked up over 600 miles and have not been kept in pristine condition (especially in comparison to the Bok’s shoes) and have thus deteriorated… that’s my finger sticking through the webbing above and the other shoe has the same damage.

So, after five short runs around the block in different pairs of shoes we came away with some lovely Run shopping bags.

Imagine my surprise however, when I looked at what I had bought.

Okay, so I bought two pairs… and the other pair has an orange right shoe, before you start to worry.

The white ones are the updated version of the Saucony shoe I’ve been wearing since October (in fact, my last three pairs have been Saucony) and they are very light and yet sufficiently splodgy for the off-road terrain I favour.

The orange ones are going to sit and wait for the return of the autumn mud and a quick glance at the soles will explain why!

If you recall, yesterday was a beautiful day and I wondered idly how long it would take me to take the shine off the new purchases.  I guess that I needn’t have worried.

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Hair piece

Those of you who have seen me in the last few weeks, either in Seattle or at London Business School, might have wondered whether I was deliberately flaunting a rather full (and still completely naturally dark) head of hair.  It’s been fun, trying to pass myself off as a Beatle, but the real reason was not having visited the maestro, Patrick Swan, for some considerable time.

And then, as you can see above from earlier today, I did! 

What was left over was probably sufficient to make a decent hairpiece for one of the current trend of re-forming boy-bands.  Maybe I should start paying into a hair bank in advance of the inevitable grey day. 

Even Gordon Brown might find the interest in that difficult to tax.