I hate writing my weekly blog. No really. I started this so I could have a way of looking back at the end of the 100 miler and see my journey. This was for me and none else. Let’s face it though if that were the case I would have just written it in a note book. Blogs are narcissistic and anyone who says otherwise is lying. We get excited by that little notice telling us people are reading our drivel. We post links to it on social media especially to get people to read. So why do I hate it? I hate it because it highlights more to me about myself than I am comfortable with, although I have been reliably (and professionally) informed that actually that’s a good thing.
Anyway, lets get on with this …
Monday : Rest day …. always a good start to the week I say :o)
Tuesday : On a split shift so meant to get up about 9am and get a run done before heading into site about midday. This just won’t happen. I am not a morning running person no matter when that ‘morning’ happens. I really, really want to be but no matter how I try I cannot make it stick. This then meant that for safety reasons my 5 mile run happened in the gym, staring at that concrete wall. It happened though. Slower than Eddie would have liked but regardless, it happened.
Wednesday : Intervals on the afore mentioned ‘mill. I seem to have a gym buddy. He gets on the one next to me whenever he is there at the same time (no matter there are 4,000 empty ones) and then tries to race me. I’m not much competition for him and I love how this winds him up. He always gives up after about 15 minutes and mutters something unintelligible before stomping off.
Thursday : 5 miles. Nothing exciting here. In fact just read Tuesdays paragraph again.
Friday : 3 miles and by this point I am tired of the gym. I think my limit is 3 days in a row.
Saturday : No running for me today but got to again be humbled by 232 runners who started the NDW50. I love these guys and gals and even more so love the volunteers. When they say ‘thank you’ before going home you have to wonder about the sanity of it all. It is us who should (and do) always thanking them both runners and volunteers alike. They truly make me smile like they will never understand. Even when I’m pulling my hair out. Biggest shout out though goes to Rachel L. and also to Mike C. Love you both. Really.
Sunday : Spent last night at Fi McNelis’ house and have to say had the best night sleep I have had in a long time. She is such a lovely person and I am determined to fix her up with someone. Before going to bed I was so wired so she sat chatting and made me cup after cup of tea (and force fed me the best cookies in the world). Anyway, up at 10am and after a great breakfast (thanks for the eggs Rachel S.) we headed out for a run on the canal in Aldershot. The canal is about a mile away from her flat and on the way down there I had a flashback. We ran by a cemetery and I remember spending a whole day in there when I was about 15 looking desperately for a certain headstone. I never did find it. I’m glad now but it was quite a memory jolt. So we get down to the canal and things were not looking great for me. Stomach issues meant an early dive behind a bush. Great! So at just after 3 miles I said to Fi to go on ahead and then turn around at 5 miles and I would meet up with her for the run back. My plan was walk/jog and try to catch her back up by 4.5 miles which would still with the run back give me 9 miles. (That makes more sense in my head than it does when I type it). Anyway, as she trotted off she passed by a kayak (the kind that Hiawatha bobbed about in) and it’s two elderly occupants were being aggressively approached by a swan. In fairness to Fi she was at a differentnt angle than me and could probably not appreciate what was happening and she kept going along the canal. Having been attacked by a swan before I knew right away. They were in his patch and he was having none of it. They are horrid and mean when they do not want you around. The two in the kayak were panicking and trying to fight him off with the oars which off course was in the swans mind them flapping their wings at him. Never a good thing. He was all puffed up, neck massive, wings going and he was diving at them. I managed to talk them down and help them understand that they needed to keep facing him, keep their oars pointed at him but NOT wave them or try to hit him with them. Slowly they managed to get over to the bank where I took one of the oars and held the boat and the swan at bay while they scrambled out. The lady was quite shaken up and the man doing his best to not show it. The swan kept approaching so as I had the height advantage on him I basically ‘swanned’ back at him … having a white jacket on helped lol. He backed of a bit and kept going in circles. Making it very clear they were not getting back in right there. We got the kayak out of the water and I advised them on what they needed to do to safely pass him via the path until they were past his patch. The woman was lovely and thanked me profusely bless her. The man couldn’t speak but gave me a big squishy hug. I offered to walk with them but they insisted I not. I think he needed to cry. So I pretended to adjust my shoes and make a phone call while I watched them move along and pass him. I then continued on my way and warned a woman in a canoe of the swan up ahead. I had a lovely walk/jog for a bit and met up with Fi at about 4.25 miles. We then headed back towards home. I told her about the swan situation but in my mind I was convinced she would either not believe me or think I was being dramatic but lo and behold we get to the swan patch again and there he is absolutely terrifying the woman who I had warned. She was pinned in the reeds with a guy on a bike on the path looking a bit helpless and she was beating the crap out of the water with her oar. I took off running to stop her doing this. At this point you can just read back to the first incident as it pretty much repeated. I talked her through what to do, we got her out, we carried he canoe along with her and then put her back in the water and set her on her way. I think Fi was a little shocked by how calm I was but it was all selfish … I didn’t want to have to actually dive in the canal and rescue a capsized kayak or canoe.
Ended with about 8.5 miles (guesstimate as my watch died) and then Fi then took me for cake as a treat.
I’m now awaiting my summons from the queen for annoying one of her swans.