Still Game in Das Boot

Howdy. My recovery from the broken bone in my foot is coming on a treat and I am getting quite adept at stomping down town in my ankle brace walker (or 'Darth Vader boot' as I like to refer to it as. Gives me a certain 'joie de vader' and looks ace when I've got my light sabre out)...I laugh like Methodone Mick out of Still Game....haar, haar. They are non returnable which is not good. However, I estimated their cost at rather more than the £30 they actually cost. I haven't even got a matching pair.

We took off up to the Ben Lomond Race 10 days ago. Speedy was driving (obvs) and, even though we arrived early, the car park was full to brimming and yet we, somehow, managed to shoe horn in the car between two fir trees near the car park exit. It was truly parking mayhem. You might know that the Ben Lomond car park is right at the end of a 'B' Class road and a dead end, so if you don't get parked there, you're in for a 5 mile drive back to Balmaha. The overflow car park was closed (although later we found out that with our heady connections and my dodgy foot, we could have got in there with bags of space.. next time!)

There was a field of around 90 for this sun drenched jamboree of a race up yon big hill. Half an hour before the start I hopped along up behind Missus Mac and Ant, like Winston, with my camera and we settled ourselves for the ascent. It was warming up nicely as the compact field came past us and then they were gone in a cloud of brown powdery dust and we settled down for the hours wait among the ferns. 

My stress levels began to ease the longer I was away from the car, but I could still feel all the exasperation drifting up in the sun motes from the hordes down below still trying to slide, wedge and jam their cars and camper vans into places where there were no spaces. 

Soon enough the leader came by, a strong looking Keswick runner well ahead of anyone else. Eventually, Speedy came by. She had a slight mince on, and I knew immediately what it meant. She had turned her ankle. No matter, she only had 800m to ginger along the forest track and she hung on for a wee win, her 2nd in 3 years on this Mountain. I hung around until most or all the folk had got down. There were a boatload of folk who would have gone off-course had I not shouted them, and I felt pretty righteous, I can tell you. Camera-man and marshal.  Is there no end to this blokes skill? I awarded myself with a cup of lentil soup at the race HQ.  Afterwards, we found out that the car hadn't been boxed in and, celebrating after an ice cream at Balmaha, we zipped home via Dalkeith for a lack-lustre fish supper. 

Linds also won her 10k race in Alnwick at the weekend just gone, so its been jolly fruitful.

I've been back to the gym this week for upper body workouts only. I am hoping to shed the boot in a week or so. I've just seen on a physio website that its only supposed to be worn for 2 or 3 hours a day....oops...I've been living in mine to such an extent that I got a new fitted kitchen in it last week and have sub-let the lower half to a small family of rodents. Oh well, mustn't grumble.    

More Photos at https://photos.app.goo.gl/cc3durVgEqLWmcTj8

 

A new home for orphaned socks

I attended the running club AGM the other week. As 30 of us squeezed into the old wooden running club, now shared with the next door rugby club, the top table were telling us how good it would be to boost club funds. After I left, I thought I could contribute somehow, so I sought out some new off-road routes in the wider area for a possible series of future trail races.  I had been to Newbiggin the week before and found a perfectly formed course based around the golf course and beach. Parking and facilities are, of course, prerequisites for such events. 

The following weekend, I took a closer look at the popular country park near me called Plessey Woods. There looked like there were a network of paths that might add up to a 4 or 5 mile route. 

So it was that I rocked up to the park on the Saturday with my asics trail shoes. It was busy, but there was parking for 100 cars or more, an overflow car park and a mix of woody trails and wider open gravel paths along the river. Ideal. 

I jogged my way up to the far end of the estate. The wild garlic and hawthorn were in full bloom forming a tight corridor for the route along a right of way. The sun was up and it was warm and a little muggy. Not a breath of wind. As I ran back on the return, I was plugged into Simple Minds and, as I ran, I was taking in the shape and layout of the terrain ahead. I wasn't, however, taking much notice of the ground immediately beneath my feet and, as I ran across a shallow depression, I went over on my ankle and as I dropped, I heard the crack of a twig break. 

I lay on the ground and knew there was some serious damage in my left foot. After catching my breath, I knew I'd better get back to the car before the ankle came up too much precluding shoe removal. I hobbled the remaining mile or so to the car park, got home and iced the offending and swollen joints.  

Some days later, after little improvement and a whole lot of bruising, I took myself to the hospital and after 20 minutes, I was on my way out with a diagnosed broken foot, nestled snugly in a darth vader boot. With a minimum 6 week recovery period, it looks like I might have to find an alternative means of entertaining myself. So that's Lomond and Goatfell out the window and half of June. However, I have found a new life for all those single orphaned socks. I'm pretty sanguine about the whole affair. Its just life. 

In recent weeks I've finished Ernest Hemingway's 'Snows of Kilimanjaro' and Adrian Tchaikovsky's 'Children of Time'. The former was a collection of bleak, rather desolate stories. Thankfully a short book. However, Adrian's effort was a top drawer sci-fi adventure and suitably absorbing.  I've returned to George MacDonald Fraser and picked up a Flashman novel which will be all stout hearts and rakish misadventures...a bit like Plessey Woods.