I liked that car...

I liked that car, it’s the best car we have ever had, brand new and shiny, loaded with gadget and toys to play with. When it first arrived i wasn’t so sure but having lived with it for about 6 months i was really starting to like it.

Christ, what was that bang? It sounded like a car had veered off the road and crashed through the front of the house, the clock said it was 2.10 am and Debbie was telling me to go and have a look. I jumped out of bed and ran to the upstairs landing when i heard a shout “Police, stay where you are”. Bloody hell fire, what had i done to deserve an early morning raid? Had the police discovered i was hiding a box of staples i had taken from work, maybe it was the “tax free” cigarettes i had purchased for Debbie?

I have never liked being told what to do and usually make a point of doing the opposite so i ran down the stairs to challenge this trespass in my home. Only there was no sign of any police, in fact there was no sign of anyone anywhere? The house lights were all on and the place was freezing cold, i noticed my keys were missing from the front door and that’s when i heard a car start.

Nissan make a good car but the Qashqai is a strange beast, its neither one thing or another, they call it a “Crossover”. More like a cross dresser, looks like a 4x4 and an SUV mixed together. We have the Qashqai+2, as the name suggests, it has 2 more seats than the standard Qashqai, but you get the same cosseting ride, impressive refinement and a long list of standard equipment.

I could see the Qashqai’s lights come on so rushed to the kitchen for some key and dashed out the front door, only to see our Qashqai being reversed off the drive, now i can run pretty well but i’m not as fast as a car, however i am game and sprinted out of the front door, bare footed and only wearing my boxer shorts with a determination to cause some serious damage to the cheeky sod who was trying to nick our car. (the lease companies car really).

Luckily the car was indeed faster than me and i was left standing in the road dressed only in my boxers watching the Qashqai disappear into the distance. While i was playing silly games, Molly my 14 year old daughter rang the police and reported the theft. While we waited for the police to arrive i took a look around to try and assess what, if any damage had been done to the house.

I have been a motorcyclist for 30 years and could never believe that driving a car could be pleasurable, but Nissan have done such a good job on the Qashqai that i actually enjoyed driving it. With a 1.6 Diesel engine it was never going to be a flying machine but it could certainly pick its feet up and cruise comfortably at 90mph on the motorway.

Bloody animals had thrown half a concrete flag through one of the patio doors in my computer room, ran through from the back of the house to the front, taken the keys from the front door and escaped the way they came in, leaving a trail of destruction behind. They had removed a window from the conservatory and there was broken glass everywhere from the patio door, bloody hell fire, this was a real mess.

And that was that, good bye Qashqai.........

An old poem

I came across this poem about 12 years ago during a period of my life when things were not going well, it amused me. All this time has passed and it still amuses me.

I PICTURE MYSELF NEAR A STREAM

BIRDS ARE SINGING IN THE COOL CRISP MOUNTAIN AIR,

NOTHING CAN BOTHER ME HERE, NO ONE KNOWS MY SECRET PLACE.

I AM IN TOTAL SECLUSION,

THE SOOTHING SOUND OF A GENTLE WATERFALL FILLS THE AIR WITH A CASCADE OF SERENITY

I CAN EASILY MAKE OUT THE FACE OF THE PERSON I AM HOLDING UNDER THE WATER

A philosophy professor

This has been doing the rounds for many years, i like it because it makes sense. 

A philosophy professor stood before his class with some items in front of him. When class began, wordlessly he picked up a large empty jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks about 2" in diameter.

Then he asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar of rocks. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the spaces between the rocks. The students laughed.

He asked his students again if the jar was full. They said yes, it was. The professor then picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.

“Now,” said the professor, “I want you to recognize that this is your life.

The rocks are the important things - your family, your partner, your health, your children - anything that is so important to you that if it were to be lost, you would be nearly destroyed.

The pebbles are the other things in life that matter, but on a smaller scale. They are things like your job, your house, your car.

The sand is everything else - the small stuff.

If you put the sand or the pebbles into the jar first, there is no room for the rocks. The same goes for your life.

If you spend all your energy and time on the small stuff, material things, you will never have room for the things that are truly most important.

Pay attention to the things that are critical in your life. Play with your children. Take your partner out dancing.

There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the car.

Take care of the rocks first - the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just pebbles and sand.”

A Home Run

I am lucky enough to work close to home, in a straight line its only 4.5 miles, however i also live on the edge of the West Pennines moors. Having missed my Sunday run i decided to make tonight's Home Run a little more worth while.

Windmills on Knowl Moor

Windmills on Knowl Moor - again

Green Booth Reservoir

The Track to Waughs Well

Lee Quarry

15 Miles and plenty of smiles, i am very lucky to live around here, there is so much good running.

Norfolk running

Norfolk is extremely flat; i spent a week there and didn’t see any hills what so ever, however the country side is stunning.

The thing about running on flat paths and roads is - no rest, running up hill is hard but you get to have a rest when you are running back down again. 14 miles on perfectly flat tracks turns out to be a hard slog.

Home for a week

Country Lane

Wind farm in Eat Somerton

West Somerton

The Post Office - Winterton-on-Sea

The Beach at Winterton-on-Sea

The Sea at Winterton-on-Sea

Watching

The Welsh 3000's

The Welsh 3000,s are all the summits in Wales that are over 3000 feet.

The welsh 3000s were a spur of the moment thing, i spent evening printing route maps and having done most of the summits many times i was quietly confident of a good day out.

The weather forecast predicted fair weather overnight and through the morning to lunch, with cloud and rain coming in during the afternoon. With this in mind i set off up Snowdon on the miners path at 5.30 hoping to get the majority of the run done before the weather came in.This was my first time on the miners path and ...... its really more of a motorway than a path... mind numbingly boring.

 90 mph on the A55 with the cruise control on my mind wonders to the weekend ahead, I’m not keen on heights and the prospect of my first visit to Crib Goch, on my own, is playing on my mind. I wish that twat in the Rangerover would get out of the way and stop playing silly games. Refocus Dave, nearly there.

I’m trying out my new head torch, another eBay bargain purchase and its 1200 lumen, almost square, beam appears to be just the job. I can see much more of the miners path motorway ahead, my mind wonders again.

Fed up i decide to ignore the prick in the breeze block ahead and pull in to the left lane to undertake, a puff of black smoke from the car in front tells me the game is on. Under take performed and on the brakes. I look across and see the driver is a middle aged woman who has obviously had a hard life, so i decide to let her go. Its been nearly 12 years since i lost the plot this bad and it doesn’t feel good.

Finally the path starts to climb and the night retreats, up ahead i can see Snowdon covered in a dark blanket of fog. Ummm, Crib Goch in the fog, nice. I pass a few dozen “3 peakers” and push on; I’m getting into my stride now.

We left the A55 at junction 13 and found the car park where Debbie would pick me up at the end of the run on Sunday afternoon. Conversation was strained.

Snowdon summit was wet and windy, the gusts were becoming a concern so i got a move on, Crib y Ddysgi summit appeared out of the gloom and i descended towards the traverse across to Crib Goch, conscious of the wind gusting harder and the rain joining the party. Was this really a good idea? I dismissed this though as doubts about the coming ridge and my ever present fear of heights, especially on exposed ridges...

Debbie drove from here and the atmosphere in the car was thick, i could feel a headache coming on and new i had slipped from the path, it had been a while, it had been almost 12 years.

Crib Goch was living up to the hype, wet rock, driving rain and a gusting wind that was really starting to scare me. I pushed on following the narrow path, trying not to look down and scare myself silly, i scrambled over a couple of small rocky summits, remembering something i had read on the internet i new the summit would be close now and soon came across it. Bloody hell, how am i supposed to get around that thing?

I had as clamber around on the wet rock and decided the right hand side offered the safest route, off i go, happy that i will find the path around when i get down a little lower. Wrong. I couldn’t find a way around, the rock got looser and the wind continued to push the rain into my eyes.  Back up to the summit again and time to make a decision, keep looking for a way around or go back. I sat behind a rock out of the wind and decided to have a look at the map, i’m sure i could work out how to do this, I’m an experienced fell runner, I’ve spent so many days in these mountains doing this, all i need to do is keep it together.

We arrived at the bunkhouse, the atmosphere still strained, my head pounding and my mind in another time zone.

Unfortunately i hadn’t zipped up my map pocket and both map and glasses has vanished, oops. The rain was getting heavier and the gusting wing was not helping, time to head back to the main tourist path and down into Llanberis. Today was not going to be my time to complete the Welsh 3000.

The Mary Townley Loop

The Pennine Bridle Way - Mary Townley Loop is a 47 mile circular route which forms part of the purpose built long distance National Trail bridleway for horse riders (and their horses), mountain bikers, walkers and runners, this high level route encircles Todmorden, Bacup, The Rossendale Valley, Whitworth and passes close to Hebden Bridge. It crosses Heptonstall Morr, Black Moor, Worsthorn Moor and visits many of the valley bottoms.

On my travels i have run the route in sections and even managed the whole route a couple of times and it really is classic northern industrial landscape in all its glory. The route is well sign posted and the trails are mostly well maintained and easy to follow.

The plan is to run the whole loop, with a small diversion up to Studley Pike, by moon light and perhaps a head torch. It will be difficult to complete the whole route in darkness with perhaps the last hour or so at dawn.

There is a great web site which has plenty of good information about the route.

http://www.idonohoe.com/mountian_bike9.htm

When -  before winter sets in.

Fell running, also known as mountain running

Fell Running, Also known as mountain running and hill running, is the sport of running and racing off road, over upland country where the gradient climbed is a significant component of the difficulty. The name arises from the origins of the English sport on the fells of northern Britain, especially those in the Lake District. (Thank you Wikipedia).

Good morning horse

Sunday morning and Debbie and i woke early in the car, the windows covered in condensation and grumbling about stiff backs, i remember a time when i could sleep in an office chair with out ill effects, oh how times change. As usual, coffee was my first priority so i rolled out of the car into my running shoes and sloped off to the camping barn.

Dale Head

It was 7 am and I was the first to rise but it didn’t take long for the 13 people sleeping in the barn to come to life, as you would expect it was the children first closely followed by the adults. The night before I had convinced Denis an early run was a good idea but walking hurt so running was out of the question for him. Breakfast, more coffee and its soon 8:30pm, an hour and a half of good running time already gone so I was quickly on my way. 

Robinson

The plan, head up Robinson and follow the BG route over to Dale Head, return back across High Spy and Cat Bells. Keen as mustard and excited to be in the mountains again I rushed through the first couple of road miles and was soon ascending Robinson, 737 metres. I could feel the previous days training in my legs but pushed on to the summit feeling good and probably looking pretty good as well. :-)

Looking back

The view from the summit was astounding, stunning Lakeland hills draped in mist and a gentle breeze pushing the cloud through the valleys, life really doesn't get any better than this. Revitalised i set off on my way picking up the BG trod towards Hindscarth and over to Dale Head. At 753 metres Dale head is the high point of the run and presents great views of the whole horse shoe shaped route. The path winds down to the valley bottom and Dale head tarn before crossing the stream and heading off up to High Spy. At 653 meters i am back into the clag again. I take a few minutes to eat and drink whilst soaking up the atmosphere, i know what lies ahead of me and i want to be prepared.

High Spy

Over the next 2.5 miles i gradually descend nearly 200 metres, past Maiden Moor to Cat Bells, with copious amounts of peat bog and rocky crags to negotiate along the way. This is where the real running starts.

Derwent Water

I start tentatively, feeling my way, gradually getting faster until my legs are burning, my vision blurs and my eyes water, leaping over crags and landing on muddy paths i slip and slide all the time trying to maintain balance, trying not to twist and ankle or do the splits. Each step becomes a blur. My head in spinning and i feel out of control but i can’t stop, i push harder taking greater risks, I can’t process each foot placement, it seems to happen naturally.

Walkers step aside and let me pass; i wonder what i must look like, some mad man bounding across the fells apparently out of control, sweat running from my head into my eyes, arms flailing around trying to maintain balance. I twist my ankle but the pain blurs and i push harder. There is no control anymore it just madness and I realise i am hitting that runners high again. Now i am floating and it all makes sense, i begin to feel at peace with the world, i ease to a slow jog, smiling, high as a kite. Drugs were never this good.

Rocky bit

Cat Bells is full of tourist and reality creeps back in, today i found nirvana again and one of the many reasons i run. I jog slowly back to Keswick and meet up with my friends and partner Debbie for a walk along the banks of Derwent Water.

You know your a runner when...

Runners definitely share special bonds and sometimes have habits, or idiosyncrasies that only other runners can understand. If you're a runner i’m sure you will be able to relate to or appreciate some of these descriptions.

You know you're a runner when...

You've lost a toenail and you tell people, "It's not that bad."

You smirk when non-runners ask you, "So how long is this marathon?"

Your trainers have more miles on them than your car.

You're not embarrassed to wear Lycra.

Your phisio knows you by the sound of your voice on the phone.

You know how to correctly spell and pronounce plantar fasciitis.

You own more pairs of running shoes than normal shoes.

You know what a danger dump is.

One of the first things people ask you when they haven't seen you in a while is, "What race are you training for now?"

Your only recent photos of you alone are race photos.

Your running partners know more about your bodily functions than your significant other.

You want to either cry or punch your doctor in the face when he tells you that you can't run for two weeks

You spend more money on running clothes than work or casual clothes.

The only time major household projects get done is during tapering or race recovery.

You always wear running shoes, your old running shoes are now walking shoes, you have a pair of running shoes just for racing, a pair of trail running shoes, two pairs of trainers to alternate every other day, and you know the exact mileage of them all.

Urban decay and the Moors

Wednesday 25th July 2012

Its Wednesday and work is getting on my nerves, to be fair everything and everyone is getting on my nerves, as i know all too well this means that it’s me that’s getting on my nerves. If i don’t escape soon I’m going to self destruct.The boss owes me a half day so it’s a perfect time to use my “get out of jail free” card, by 1pm I’m changed and out the door for a run, although i don’t usually road run i do occasionally run through town to get to the moors. 


Today i decided to run through some of Rochdale’s Urban Decay and on to the West Pennine Moors and eventually home. Its only 2 miles to open moorland from my place of work but Rochdale manages to squeeze a lot of decay into such a small area. However i had a sweet 7 mile run through the town and over the moors to home. I have been very lucky this year and enjoyed most of my running, this is probably because i have spent a lot of time running with friends. Today i ran alone but enjoyed the run all the same.

St Chads Church

Seven Sister Flats

Post Office Building (not my image)

Urban Decay

Reflection of Urban Decay (not my image)

Spotland - Urban Decay

Wide Cobbled Road

Suburbia

The Road to Heaven

Top Of Pike

Cottom Famine Road (not my image)

Bad parking

Cowm Resovoir

Cows

Horses

Over Looking Whitworth 

Sheep

Suburban Bliss - Crown Green Bowling

Whitworth

The paddy Buckley Round & Failure

Fell running or mountain running is considered to be one of the great sporting traditions of the Lake District, its finest club is the Bob Graham club. Becoming a member is not easy; it involves climbing 42 peaks, with 27,000 feet of ascent covering 66 miles and all within 24 hours.

In 2012 i completed the Bob Graham Round in good time, so naturally my thoughts moved to other similar challenges. The Paddy Bucley Round is considered to be an hour harder, in that most people take an hour longer over the BGR, and the Charlie Ramsey Round is probably the harder of the three major rounds.

The Paddy Buckley Round is known as the Welsh Classical Round and is apparently the Snowdonia equivalent of the BGR, It is a circular route of 61 miles with 28,000 of ascent taking in 47 tops.

The PBR was to be the next challenge for me so in the spring of 2011 my partner Debbie and i spent alternate weekends in Snowdonia, while i reccied the various leg involved my partner took on the essential role of road side support. Anyone who has completed such challenges will no doubt agree that knowing someone is there for you when you have finished a hard days training is comforting.

Many of the days spent in the mountains of Snowdonia were less than successful and the almost constant covering of fog certainly made the job of navigating the mountainous terrain a significant challenge. I trained hard for many months and finally set a date for the end of July to take on the whole route nonstop. Support runners and navigators were press ganged into place; somehow i had managed to acquire the support of some true fell running legends.

Debbie had done a great job of looking after me but the job of looking after some dozen or so support runners and navigators required a support team, Debbie had taken care of this and the ball was rolling.

Come the big day i was super fit and ready to go, my running partner Ronnie and i set off from Llanberis at 6am and headed off through the quarries to the first summit, Elidir Fach, with a little persuasion i had managed to talk Ronnie into running the whole route with me. This was to be my undoing. Ronnie was so much stronger than me on the climbs that eventually i had to acknowledge defeat and persuaded him to continue without me. Ronnie went on to complete the round and i had managed to acquire my first running failure.

I was truly devastated and had to admit to myself that i had underestimated the size of the mental challenge, i was definitely physically fit enough but not physiologically. A month later i made my second attempt, after 15 hours the heavy rain and strong winds were too much and it became unsafe to continue. At least this is what i told myself; certainly conditions were not conducive to a 24 hour completion. Failure number 2 and this time i could blame the weather.

2012 and another season in the mountains, i have spent many weekend in the English Lake District, Snowdonia in Wales and the Scottish Highlands, trained harder than ever before and indeed feel physically fitter than i can ever remember.

The weekend of July 21^st and 22^nd arrived and i made my third and final attempt of the PBR, Ronnie and i set off from Capel Curig at 12 noon with a 7 hour leg ahead and another 17 hours of mountains to follow. The weather was ideal and i felt very confident, so i have to ask myself why i managed only 3 hours of running before the doubts started creeping in?

A head ache and a dark mood took over, i began to feel as if i had taken a beating and my head was banging. I felt disorientated and distant, couldn’t focus on the mountains around me and the prospect of running another step left me feeling sick. I told Ronnie how i felt and he assured me that i would be ok, it was just a bad patch. We pushed on and eventually finished the leg arriving in Nantmor at 7pm bang on schedule, i was not in good shape and had already decided it was not to be.

Chris did his job well and persuaded me to continue for just one more leg, 5 more hours. I agreed on the proviso that he joined us. This agreed we set off towards Bryn Banog, a horrible boggy climb through waist high bracken and crusty heather. I was still feeling ill but pushed on, my support runners, Chris and Ronnie had come a long way and i felt like i was letting them down. The mood on this leg was fantastic and i felt in good spirits but new the dizziness and sickness had defeated me.

We arrived in Pont Caer Gors a little down on schedule but in good spirits, i had missed several summits along the way so any thoughts of continuing were gone. This time the feeling of failure is very real, i am doing my best to put on a good front but inside the pain is tearing me apart. The more i think about it the darker the fog becomes, my head is hurting and i really need to sleep.


I think about the fog rolling over the hills as the light was fading last night, a truly epic cloud inversion, the feeling of being alive. I Have tears rolling down my face and i want to cry – again. I’m not sure if i can keep doing this, hell I’m damn sure i shouldn’t be doing this, if i don’t fall off a mountain or trip on a rock and bang my head the stress of failure is sure to get me. 

So what do i do next?

It is perhaps time to stop putting myself in a position where i can fail quite so dramatically and reduce my goals to a more realistic level. However, knowing myself as i do, i can't stay away from the mountains, so i will probably continue to push until something breaks or until i fall off.

Tapering

The Devils Staircase

Tuesday 26th June 2012


The rather ominously named Devils Staircase follows the West Highland Way from Glencoe to Kinlockleven. We were having an easy day and running the 9 mile round in reverse.


Setting of from Kinlochleven in good weather i could see an enjoyable run ahead of us with some good quality trails and spectacular views. 

Looking Back

Water Pipes

A bridge

Highest point of the West Highland Way

Ronnie and a Stob Dearg

Kinghouse Hotel - Glencoe