A bit of tough fun on a Sunday morning and a mini-target for me. Important to keep the weight down with these mini-targets throughout the year!
I finished tenth today. The usual massive disparity in the time splits out of the 259 entrants for me… swim 139th, bike 4th, run 16th… but it’s a great reminder that there are other things to sport than cyclocross, crits and riding the Lancifornia trails on the MTB. Good for the soul. Transitions are plain exciting too!
Lily did us proud yet again yesterday with what was a great run in the Austwick Amble junior race. We’d had a lovely night camping in Malham and turned up for the Austwick street fair with semi-plans to run (we’d packed the trainers etc!). Continue reading “Lily’s third fell race: The Austwick Amble”
In a way, it’s a strange discovery; one of those little unpredictable things that happen in life. As a cyclist who’s done a bit of everything on a bike, and still would do if he had time, I’ve found myself refining my cycling to niches and events that present realistic but challenging goals. I expect quite a lot out of myself from my cyclocross racing, and when push comes to shove, it’s my primary thing, but those other things that happen – the bits that fall roughly between February and September – have taken an unexpected turn recently – something mailnly down to where I live. Continue reading “The unlikely adrenaline hub of the world: Rossendale, Lancashire”
Lovely to hear John Shuttleworth on the Vote Now Show late on Radio 4 last night. The track’s here if you missed it – his wonderfully crafted lyrics are a great take on the three horse race that’s unfolding before us…. I think he has a point. If Nick Clegg was called Nicholas, he would inevitably get less votes.
Here’s the track for those of you who missed it:
[audio:http://www.minnellium.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/John-Shuttleworth-The-Vote-Now-Show-28-04-2010.mp3|titles=John Shuttleworth – The Vote Now Show 28 04 2010] (updated: download link here by popular demand of the flash-starved iPhonites)
Lyrics:
If Nick Clegg was called Nicholas
Voters would think him ridiculous
But as he’s just plain “Nick Clegg”
People assume he’s a right good egg
If only Gordon and David
Would shorten their names as he did
Think of the votes they’d get
from an admiring electorate
Wouldn’t you put a tenner on
Somebody called Dave Cameron?
He sounds a like a friendly bricklayer
Or even a professional darts player
(“Dave, you require double-five”
– Well – he wants number 10)
If only Gordon was Don Brown
His ratings would never have gone down
A Don you would never close a door on
Whereas Gordon is a moron
(he’s gone a bit quiet hasn’t he – the lad who did that one)
By the way, I wonder if you knew
That Nick Clegg’s a former member of Kajagoogoo
Oh no – that’s not Nick Cleggs that was Nick Beggs
Apologies I’ve made a slight boo boo
If Nick Clegg’s was called Nicholas
Voters would think him ridiculous
But as he’s just plain “Nick”
He’s as solid as a brick
He’s the one the others must lick
Shame his middle name is Benedict
(no I’m only joking… )
Oh – and a lovely reference in the lyrics to ‘Gordon is a Moron’ re: the 1978 hit by Jilted John (Graham Fellows – or John Shuttleworth in a former punk skit role) – flashback below.
We had a great time at the weekend, a family get-together in beautiful sunshine for the Dalkins to celebrate Bill’s 70th. The three daughters – Fiona, Katie and Sally – plus all their family-hangers-on meant a total of 13 family members and four close friends. A bit of a house full by any standards.
Managed a quick run up Ingleborough on Sunday which was a real treat. Got up there pretty much before anyone else was there and had one of thiose tranquil mountain moments all to myself. Fantastic. But spoiled by a few red winey burps from Saturday. Hey ho – can’t have everything.
Brilliant to see the children all together – running about the garden, cheating at football, playing on swings, irritating the dog… in such fantastic sunshine. Continue reading “Bill Dalkin turns 70”
It’s been a fun day – I don’t do much social bike riding in a busy life but when I do, I want the rides to be like today’s in inaugural Ronde van Oost Lancashire. Billed (roughly) as a local answer to my favourite classic the Tour of Flanders (or “Ronde van Vlaanderen” in Flemish), the Tour of East Lancashire set out to mimic, amitate, and at times outdo the Flemish classic .
I don’t think my legs have been that filthy in years. A very badly timed afternoon of thunderous rain and hailstones rounded off a pretty bad few wet days here in Rossendale, and Lily and I were pretty much committed to going to one of our local fell races.
Lily took part (alone) last year in the ‘first race after the clocks change’ and aside from my predictable gushing pride in seeing my eldest gritting her teeth and warming [sic] up in the freezing rain, I had to get my own head around my first fell race in 18 months, and first running race in over a year. Last year’s broken collarbone meant that a return to competitive (and I use the term loosely) running in 2009 wasn’t on the cards. I managed to get back on the bike fairly quickly after the injury but running just wasn’t the same. I managed to start running again properly in Autumn but by then we were into the cyclocross season and although I’m not bit on fell running I do like to dabble a bit.
To do a fell race after so long a break was part good, part horrid. It wasn’t the most beautiful of courses (it’s Rossendale – but even Rossendale has a few good ones – such as Whittle Pike) – it was more that I’d gone into the race psychologically under-prepared. The first mile or so was hard, but somehow it kept on being hard – I’d forgotten that running basically is ( – hard!)
The race also took place concurrently with the children’s one, and although friends Cathy & Carl were on hand and I knew they’d be looking after Lily after her finish, part of me wanted to be with her – watching her take part.
Lily had once again done herself proud – finishing in a smaller field than last year on a much more rain sodden course in a respectable time. My result too was reasonable – 15th out of 142 competitors – but somehow, just the getting it finished and under the belt was enough. I want more… but maybe something a bit prettier and bit un-grittier next time. Liver Hill is like its meat namesake… a tolerant and partially satisfactory bit of meatiness when better stuff isn’t available.
This spring seems to be one big mix of life’s ying and yang. I’ve always been good at ying and yang stuff. Being a Haygarth (or maybe more being a Catlow) I like ‘refuelling’ end of fitness as much as the exercise end of it. Over-dramatic to suggest a constant battle between fitness and fatness but this spring’s been a funny one, where I seem to be able to punish my body to quite an extent during my early morning runs on weekdays, then wear myself to bits with fine food and a bit too much wine of a weekend. I think I need to break the cycle… but like all angels and devil combinations, one’s not as much fun without the other.
The clocks have changed, and despite it being bitterly cold this morning, a chance has come to do a bit more exercise. This evening I failed abysmally, but it all generally kicks off from here with a few more opportunities to stretch the legs with the crits starting on a Thursday night in Preston. Routine is the friend of fitness.
Weekends are also fairly quiet and exercise-free by necessity at the moment – we’re still in that phase of having a very hands-on toddler, and weekends need to be a chance to relieve Katie and watch over Elsie unhatching her plans to destroy the world. We’re having some really ace times at the moment just being about, “relaxing” (yes – bad choice of word) and enjoying the onset of spring.
Lily’s getting to an age where we want her to find other groups of friends outside of school. She started Brownies earlier this year and I’m starting taking her to Rossendale Harriers’ training on a Tuesday night. This is a dual benefit obviously – it helps her to meet new people and – I hope – get bitten by the bug of running a little bit. A good bug to have.
Winter’s over then. Officially. (snow forecast here this evening)… time to spring into spring.
Jenny “First Cousin Once Removed” Holmes is visiting the UK and Europe at the moment and we had a great chance to catch up with her for a day last Sunday when she came to stay with Phil & family in Arkholme.
Jenny was plucked from this fine land at the tender age of six and whisked off to New Zealand by my cousin Mark and the rest of his family. Seeing someone who lives on the other side of the globe is always an odd thing, but seeing a 22 year old woman who was 12 last time I saw her is very strange… Life’s moved on in undescribable ways since the last time I saw her. I have two children and am… well… forty. Jenny is about to graduate and is no longer a little girl.
But what’s remarkably great is that there is such simple warm familiarity in “family” – something that never dies out however long that gaps are between visits.
Lovely to see you Jenny and let’s all maybe try not to make it such a long gap next time.
Photos here
If ever there was a good sign that a holiday works, it is that you do it again. There’s a good mix of the things that seem to add up to a good little holiday for the Haygaths at the Peebles Hydro hotel. Too pricey for a full week, but just within the realms of decadence for three nights in Feb half term (especially with three nights for the price of two!).
It was a similar recipe to last year’s holiday there – but different in many ways as Elsie has doubled in age in that short year. Continue reading “February half term in Peebles – again”
It’s a simple formula that’s bound to win every time. Putting gentlemen together in a mountain area for a couple of days is just about all it takes. Other holidays or excursions have various frills around the edges, but the basic raw ingredients of a good bunch of fellows and a load of stunning upland are what it takes to make the bread of Heaven.
And so it was, last Saturday morning at c. 10am, I met up with Phil, Gareth, Adrian, John, Peter, Simon, Rob, Richard, Stephen, Sam and Jim for a walk in the Aran mounains, a strangely under-visited non-honey pot corner of Snowdonia. What followed for the rest of Saturday and Sunday was fairly predictable in places (the tone of the banter), hugely 
unpredictable in others (Gareth’s near-fatal near-head near-injury). Sitting down to eat well deserved and well-shaken lunches on top of hills was on the agenda; breathtaking cloud inversions and Broken Specters were possibly less easy to foresee.
… but that is the nature. If we got together every year for a walking weekend (and we have done for ten years running now) and everything went too much to a formula, it’d be fine. The unpredictables; those surprise views, the sudden outpouring of hymns in Welsh Male Voice choir stylee, the bizarre, twisted concepts that can arise from meandering conversations – those bits are the spreads to the bread.
A wonderful weekend; fine fellows all, and just a great opportunity to spend special time with great people. Until next year…
So the 17th January 2010 was the last day I was officially in my 30s. As far as British Cycling was concerned, I was technically still a senior, so founf myself on the start line racing with ‘those youngsters’ under 40 for the last time in a National series. From about three minutes into the race, it was clear that I’m going to suit being old, as my race deteriorated into a bit of a shambles… Continue reading “National Trophy Round 6 – Rutland Water”
