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.
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’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”
XXXX … today. I’ve reached middle age, and am having a lovely time. Quiet day planned with close family and no doubt a few drinks (helped now because tomorrow’s national cyclocross championships have been postponed).
I hear a lot of people saying that they don’t feel any older when they get into their 40s, but I have lost all my hair overnight, become wrinkled, and put on two stones. Never mind. I can still rock out.
So this is the end of my thirties. Today. That’s it after today – tomorrow, I’m middle-aged. Hurrah! (well – did you think I’d be bothered??)
In more of an attempt to wangle a good day out than anything else, Matthew invited me to a day’s leave Mountain biking, well in advance of today (largely because of a technical glut of annual leave he had to take) so when the snow came back earlier this week, we both knew we were in for fun.
We met up in Holcombe at 9:15 this morning and what followed was one of those very memorable outdoor trips. I’ve been out in the snow a bit lately on the road bike, cross bike and even on the Mountain Bike, but have obviously avoided full on open fell riding – simply because there just hasn’t been the time (all the other rides could be done under the guise of ‘training’ or getting the children to school / nursury). Today’s ride was in the name of adventure and fun. It certainly lived up to that.
The fact that we covered a total of 18 miles in 3 hrs of riding sums it up really. What amounts to a good healthy walking pace on most summer days was a pretty full on MTB adventure round Holcombe and Entwhistle in what varied between hard-packed icy snow (at best) and foot deep snow-wading and bike carrying in the cold midwinter sunshine.
The ride was fun, and was topped off by a lovely few pints at the Shoulder of Mutton and a sarnie with chips, before a quick shower and then a chance to pick Lily up from school (on the trailer bike) and an hour or so of sledging, later on.
We headed down south for a lovely couple of days to see friends Rachel & Jon at their place in Eastbourne for this New Year. The children and dogs loved it as much as we did. Couple of great relaxed jogging outings on the downs and meandering outings to the seaside – even the traffic was agreeable. Fancy dress party for a few friends (the theme was “a colour” some dodgy pics below). All boxes ticked. Happy New Year all.
Good old friends are always the best – and it was so ace to see Dips & Jane and their girls today on their way back home to Oxford after a Christmas stay in Dentdale. We had about five hours together all in all, but it was just enough time to cram in another few great times and forge some more goods for the memory bank.
Amazingly the dying Christmas snow had its Swan Song and provided us with yet another chance to sledge (… this after I’d already taken Lily for her first bum-boarding lesson in the morning). A few bruised bums on the cold ice, and a very cold muddy foot for Libby after an all too predictable welly incident, but all somehow made it just better and more memorable.
Back to work tomorrow for me, but this flying visit helped it become a very memorable and valuable Christmas break.
Some photos here or slideshow below, and a short video below that…