Good morning folks
I trust you had a mighty fine weekend and that this finds you in tiptop form.
Here is your weekly round-up from the city that never sleeps (or neighbours that don’t let you sleep)…
Has Mark Hamill been on the sauce, or has the late, great Oliver Reed been reincarnated?
To the hills.
After being in the running doldrums/injury/recovery/injury/recovery/injury cycle for way too long, I feel like I am hopefully turning a corner at last! (Which normally means I am about to get crocked again!)
I set out my stall this year with some (potentially over-) ambitious plans and have ended up running 3 races (only finishing 2). The wheels fell off in June and never really got put back on again. Up until June I’d climbed over 134400 feet (not enough miles), but it was all pretty much in vain.
After changing everything in July and starting to train properly, it’s just been a stop-start-stop-stop process. Every runner has a low and I was close to jacking it all in, but there is nothing else I am much cop at (and I’ve got about 500 gels to get through before their BBE in April!)
The one person who has helped put the wheels back on every time and keep my head screwed on is this lady, Super Maro. An absolutely brilliant Physio who also acts as my Lima shrink! I owe this lady an unpayable debt for keeping me going
On Wednesday I had a free morning and managed to escape into the hills for the first time in yonks. I underestimated the sun, the distance and the amount of water I didn’t take and staggered back home in about 2.5hrs, but it was great to be out
(I hope this sign is a joke!)
(There are literally hundreds of these, everywhere! Just the right size to trip you up and just small enough to not see them in time!)
I have even entered a race for 2018. Unfinished business at the Ultra Trail 69 in Yungay. The long race has been dropped to 60km this year and it will be my main goal. Fingers crossed my guts hold up this year…
Red pen time.
Another month, another cycle, another red pen empty.
Polishing my “Great British Spirit of Adventure” speech for round II.
Lima is a place that will drive you nuts if you let it.
On Friday night I laid awake in bed with a nearby party (or concert, it seemed loud enough). That blared on until 5am. Then, there is a lad who comes every Saturday morning, I have had words with him twice as he always rings all the buzzers at 5am (ex-boyfriend of a neighbour I think, short of brain cells is the joker), somebody let him in, but he told the taxi he had no change and disappeared. Then the taxista who had dropped him off wanted his fare, so he started buzzing everybody too (as he didn’t know which flat he had gone to). They argued for an hour (the lad had no money) but then I did get one hour of kip before getting up.
11pm on Sunday night now and somebody is hammering upstairs and an alarm has been going off outside for 15mins. The joys of Salamanca. Roll on January…
The weather doesn’t know if it is coming or going, but sweaty season is starting.
In a bid to keep my feet fresh I bought some magic talc, but half the container came out first go and every step I took resulted in a cloud of fine white powder puffing out of my shoes. It was like I was recreating the Great Escape scene with Columbian Marching Powder! At least my tootsies stayed sweet as I trailed a fine white line everywhere I trod.
Most buses here are ramjammed/packed, but they rarely turn punters away. I normally wait for the next one if there is simply no room, but on Thursday I was under pressure so I shoehorned myself into the throng. It is like a vertical game of twister (no chance of a seat) and I had my hands full so was trying to stay upright as the bus suddenly jolted and my finger poked right into one guy’s sweaty armpit.
Naturally it would be a shock, but it wasn’t on purpose. The guy took real offence to it and had a right go at me. Luckily I was getting off at the next stop (and so did he, which was awkward).
I’d see the funny side if I got tickled on the Combi
Big night out!
Years and years ago we all used to go out all the time and occasionally leave Yorkshire’s sunny shores for far-off lands such as Blackpool or even Newcastle. Tynesiders are mad on two things; football and going out. Back in the day the “Tuxedo Royale” was thee place to go, (or the Tuxedo Princess, they used to chop and change boats).
Former car ferries docked on the Tyne (Gateshead side, due to a slip-up with planning permission) decked out as a floating disco. Anyway, it was always a lively night, but not always successful. The first time I went there I took a wrong turn out of the loos and ended up in a wedding do. I hung around for a while, then tried to find my way back to the discotheque but walked through the wrong door and got turfed out by the Good Time Cops, early finish and a long wait for the 3am bus home (pre-mobile phone days). The second time, exactly the same thing happened, but it was even earlier, so I was back on the minibus by 10:30pm and had an interesting 4hr conversation with the driver, who was also a debt-collector and had some rather colourful stories. Anyway the thing it taught me was if you’re getting chucked out, just take it and don’t waste a single breath arguing with Bouncers. Only doing their job I guess and drunken punters are a nightmare (I’ve worked in enough boozers to know that myself).
Fast forward to the most eagerly anticipated session of the year, Fancy Dress night out. An idea born on a night out in August. Fancy dress is not big here (not yet, but that may change), but coincidentally it was close to Halloween, so we thought there may be a few others out…
Dress code was intentionally set as “no theme” would mean we would definitely stand out! A strict “no later than 7:30pm” rule was the order of the night.
I got ready as quick as I could then jumped in a cab driven by a huge bloke who didn’t say a word, until he broke into song, in the highest voice I have ever heard, it was a flashback to “Stir Crazy” with Grossberger
as my Taxista! 7pm, first there.
James B arrived next (The Hoff from Baywatch), then James D (King Arthur), then Chris (Batman), Eugene (Spider-Man), Gary (Anonymous Guy Fawkes) with Jack Sparrow making up the motley magnificent seven!
Our favourite first haunt, the French Bar, put on all the music we wanted and tried to keep us there as long as they could (not hard, as it is happy hour until 10pm) before we wandered across across the road. It all gets a bit hazy here, but I remember going outside for some air before the darts started (the game, not the 80′s band) and the Bouncers wouldn’t let me back in, even less when I tried to be diplomatic, early shower
Probably not a bad thing I left when I did, as I have/had been feeling sick for about 3 weeks with really bad guts and nausea. This all came to a head when I got home, the results were spectacular and I spent all Sunday feeling rough as a bear’s backside.
Broken, officially, well and truly!
I had dyed my hair (it said blonde on the box but turned my barnet orang-ish) on Saturday night, then dyed it (expresso) back on Sunday, but I was trying to do too many things and left it in too long and now it is a colour best described as “a very dark night inside a cave“.
Lina had done a sterling job with the make-up but I think she tattooed on some eyeliner, as I just cannot get it off.
I am also known as “Susanne” on a Sunday! Really brings out the colour in my eyes…
First day of a new cycle tomorrow at work. My students will think they have a middle-aged Emo for a teacher!
A short and sweet video to hopefully put a smile on your face
The little one obviously inherited some of her Old Man’s dance moves!Swing yer pants!
Have an outstandingly awesome week.
Johnny, Lina & the Nipper