Thursday, 8 October 2009
Goodbye
Thursday, 1 October 2009
Loony
Getting close now. I thought I'd make a trip to the shops for old time's sake. And boy am I glad I did. I wouldn't have seen this guy's bomber of a jacket otherwise. This was after I'd been jabbed with Hepatitis B. I almost let it go thinking it must have been an hallucination but a second glance said otherwise. I needed photographic evidence or you wouldn't have believed me nor would it have sounded as good as it looks. I finished the trip by purchasing a small bottle of iodine, some zinc oxide tape and some blackcurrant de-diarrhoea sachets. Also, yesterday I impregnated a mosquito net with stuff that could kill a cat. (Thanks to Jo for the net)
Sunday, 27 September 2009
Number one
Friday, 25 September 2009
Luxury
The dentist today as well. I’d never used the toilet in there before but a heavy fluid intake meant that today was the day. As I washed my hands I read this sign. Gosh, how kind. They have even thanked me at the end. Surely I am the one needing to send out the gratitude. The hand dryer is superb - too good to miss.
15kg of berghaus
Tuesday, 22 September 2009
Ooh, my lucky number
Spoke to Morrisons, all booked up until December. My race number came through the post though and with it a description: ‘The course is challenging with three hills, but you will be rewarded with some lovely views over the Cheshire countryside.’
I went for a run. It was quite a good’un. I wore my new t-shirt as well. ‘…fast wicking, quick drying and has permanent odour protection meaning you can wear it more and wash it less.’ And it was and I will. I might buy another one and form it into a pair of pants.
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
Back to business
My neighbour recommended a good way of getting some money fast before I left for Scotland. A bag-packing/bucket collection at a supermarket. This sounded a good idea but I had to act quickly as they normally have extensive waiting lists. This turned out to be the case at Sainsbury's and Tesco but the woman on the phone at Morrisons didn't know. She told me to write a letter and hand it in to customer services under the code name, D. Bowen. So I put the phone down and that's what I did. I Slid the letter down the back of my shorts and blitzed it out of the garage on my dad's old racer. I'd reached around halfway there and had nailed the hill leading to the roundabout. I was feeling good, really good. I arrived at my destination in no time and was in and out and back on the road in two shakes of a dog's undercarriage. Having said that, it was quite an eventful ride. I'd passed a dead rabbit on the way, seen Frodo in the supermarket (well a guy that had 'Frodo' written on his back) and eaten a fly. He'd flown straight into my throat causing me to gag and weave down the road. I thought I'd swallowed him down, but a moment later I knew I hadn't. I ground to a halt and almost chundered on someone's front lawn. I held it in though and took a big gulp. Scotland had made me a brave man.
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Glen Finglas, a Ceilidh & the Trossachs Cup, dear
We went for our last walk to Glen Finglas where we met this chap. In the evening there was a traditional Scottish Ceilidh dance. I half completed a multitude of dances including part of the legendary Highland Fling. The main man also got me up to blow some air into his bag and pipes. I wasn’t sure how much it needed so spent most of the time blowing as hard as I could until my face cudnae take it no more. Then I had to squeeze the bag under my armpit and twiddle my fingers to make the beautiful noise. I’d actually taken some video but somehow when I’d put it back into the computer, it had been wiped. So you have to make do with Ray, a worthy substitute I’m sure you’ll agree. ‘How convenient’, my mum said. I was being accused of erasing my own photos. Mind you, there was some pretty incriminating evidence of me waltzing with a Mrs. Doubtfire look-a-like on that memory card. Damn.
I had declared that if we were to finish this snooker championship, it had to end today. A bold statement to mark I was serious for action, and probably a wise one since we'll be leaving tomorrow. It would be best of seven frames. The current score was 3-1 to my brother. If I won, it would be game on, but if I lost, it would be game over. It was another tight affair and once again it would be decided on the black. I had a huge chance. It could be potted into the middle pocket, but it was quite a toughie as the angle was acute. It needed to be precise. My hand was sweaty and the cue was stuttering as it slid against my thumb. But I hit it true. We both watched in agony as it rolled towards the pocket. It kissed the far corner of the jaw and coiled along the curve of the pocket, seemingly defying the laws of gravity, and out. I thought it was going in, there must have been a force field, or my brother had passed wind, something! But no, I had to admit defeat. My brother put it to bed and the Trossachs Cup was his. Ahk trossocks! Shiweebollocpoo!
Monday, 14 September 2009
Boggy, dear
Sunday, 13 September 2009
A wee walk and a big wee, dear
Buttocks nae sore surprisingly. Went for a walk and played some tennis. Managed to go over on my ankle though stretching for what I'm sure would have been a magnificent passing shot. This is what this bath was for. Looks a bit like I was busting for a wee and cudnae quite make it so did it in the bath instead. I sort of wish It were true, because that would have been a mighty fine release. Probably 50 times the volume my bladder could hold. It's yellow because it's pumped from the Loch. They treat it but it still carries some colour. I didn't really fancy a full immersion so I just dipped my foot in.
Saturday, 12 September 2009
A real beastie, dear
30 miles of perineum (search it) pounding. Around a Loch, past Callander through to the village of Strathyre and back. Deep thigh burn. On return, a couple of sausage sandwiches on a disposable barbecue over looking the Loch. The one with leek in was a sure-fire mistake. Every now and then a wee gurgle brings the unmistakable taste to the buds. Ah well, 'beggars cannae be choosers', 'better a small fish than an empty dish'.
Friday, 11 September 2009
The Lady of the Loch, dear
A wee run, a trip to Callander town and two lengths of the Loch. Well, by boat. We rowed out onto Loch Achray and noshed down some turkey sandwiches. Returning to dry land, I kicked off my boots and my Air Perseus's flew on. It was a wee squelchy down near the loch so I had to make-do with the unforgiving tarmac. I cooled down in the pool and then reheated like a ready meal in the blistering steam room. I was glowing for about an hour afterwards. No billiards this evening - four dry-eyes.
Thursday, 10 September 2009
Air gets no fresher than this, dear
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
The Trossachs, dear
In Scotland for a week. I'll be putting myself through a fitness regime similar to the one Rocky did in number IV. Yeah the one against that monstrous Russian bloke. This is the snooker room where the training began. I challenged my monstrous brother to a game. A game so low in score that with only four colours remaining we were both on 6. Some sharp shooting and meticulous safety's were needed in order to clinch this tense end to the first frame. But tiredness had crept into my game and I had declared my dry-eye as he slotted home the blue and pink with some gusto. There was no coming back. I'd lost the first round. Cut to the montage.
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
Got the T-shirt
Monday, 7 September 2009
Sweaty Coma
Had a real training session today. Came back at 9pm having left the house at 5.30pm. I'd been to Warrington. My neighbour runs a lot, really keen. She goes to a coach who often takes her and others to destinations all around so that it doesn't get boring. He doesn't even charge for it. Or if he does it's 50p. I'd say he was around 60 and could talk about running all day. He lives and breathes it. And loves it.
Saturday, 5 September 2009
'Before it faces mother nature, it has to face mother Boyle.'
Friday, 4 September 2009
Humbled
Thursday, 3 September 2009
Gluteus Maximus
Wednesday, 2 September 2009
Yourine
Tuesday, 1 September 2009
First run for the Half Marathon
With the Macclesfield Half Marathon looming on the 27th September, I thought it best to find out what kind of state I was in. So, slipping on my Air Perseus's Mark-III (trainers I'd purchased a year ago for Sport Relief and not used since) I ran the 2-miler around my village. Perseus! Perse-my-ass. I had lead on my feet and my body was moving in slow motion. I thought I was in pretty good shape - I'd had an image of myself bounding through the village like a gazelle. I cycled everywhere at University. I scaled mountains on my hardy Dutch racer every day. Then I remembered. Apparently, cycling and running work similar muscle groups differently. I looked this theory up for confirmation, confirmed it and then read the following on a cyclist blog:
'The first two runs (4k run/walk) crippled me to the point of having to walk down stairs backwards.' Hah, easy does it.