Cramlington xc

Last week saw a dizzying 35 miles running. The bike had the whole week off. This demure total is not going to propel me back into the top echelons of the over 50's athletic scene, but it means that I might be able to hang off the back of it, only just keeping in touch with flecks of slaver and beads of sweat working their way around my grimacing face. My achilles were sore when I began to run again, but last week the calves capitulated and my legs acquiesced, having been beaten into submission by several 7 minute/miles.

The climax of the week was the cross country at Cramlington on Saturday. When I announced to Aunt Aggie that I was off to the event, she was playing on her Nintendo under the stairs and remarked that I was washed up and my efforts might be better spent weeding the garden or trying to make sense of the garage.

I had hoped for a top one hundred finish, but the field of 600 had other ideas and while I cut a fine, if decrepit figure on the first two laps, the third lap saw me drop from 160th to 185th. The conditions were firm and the temperature something weird, creeping around eighteen degrees in October. The club tents and flags gave the event a carnival atmosphere.

I came away with everything intact, but a decent blister on my heel which made my 9 miles on Sunday hard work.  Need to review the cross country footwear.

The reading is paralleling the running. I took an age to read the Amis's The Old Devils. It took about 2 months to wade through this tedious tale of old age in the deepest west. By far a more riveting 'boys own story' is Buchan's Greenmantle which should take me  a few days to finish.