Midland Cross Country ... again, again, again ...

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no. ?? Stone me Blog. Do you have any idea where we are with this numbering malarkey??? I was invited to give a talk this week. I look good even if I have to say it myself. What was I ask to speak about? Where was it? How much did I raise for the charity for disable children ‘Tiny Tims Children’s Centre’?

  Back to the Midland Cross Country Championships Blog ….. there is an on-going query about a competitor in the Midland, but pending a conclusion, I will mention another two similar matters. A parent who should know better turns up to a championship with child in tow to be told said child was not entered as the appropriate notice had not been signed by him in time for the entries to be sent to the Midland officers. Angry parent suggesting forcefully that the club should get itself organised. He was unaware of the irony in what he had said. He then colludes with a team manager and both not only allow the said child to run in someone else’s number, but it was in someone else’s number from a different age group in a different race; luckily the numbering of each age group was independent and no number was duplicated during the afternoon!!! Any race organiser can appreciate the utter confusion that this would cause the result collators and the production of race results. Luckily the Midland Counties relied on chip timing with the numbers used only as backup. The photographic evidence was used to confirm the misdemeanour. The parent still did not understand what the problem was. The sport obviously needed organising ‘properly’.

Two runners cross the line together in a medal position and the finishing judges are unable to separate them. Question => What to do?? Award both a medal. No Way Baby. Look to see which athlete had the faster chip timing and award that athlete the medal and tough tittie to the other athlete. Good Idea Baby. That seems to me to be a gross miscarriage of justice. Am I correct Blog, or am I correct???

I had the experience of travelling into the city to visit a bank during the week. Question => Why can I visit a betting shop (which I don’t) or order an item from Argos (which I don’t) and the pens provided can be used without difficulty by the great unwashed public? I visit a bank and the pens are chained to the desks. The qualities of the pens in the banks seem no more valuable than those in Argos or Betfred. Where is the trust … oh yes, because the banks are always on the financial fiddle, they must suspect that all their customers are as well? And why are the chains attached to the bank pens so short that you have difficulty signing any document? With all the quids the banks make at our expense you would think an extra couple of inches (centimetres to you Blog) would not reduce too much from the managers’ yearly bonus. Did you notice my cleverly slipped in pun, Blog. Is their no limit to my literally genus, Blog?  

And have you noticed Blog that they are all at it …

Can I interest you in life insurance?

No thanks

Can I interest you a new credit card?

No thanks.

Do you want a top up.

Not just now.

Do you want cash back?  […. They never give up …. ]

No thanks.

Do you want to change your account?

No.

Do you want information on a high savers investment bond?

No. Look here, I only came in for a couple of pork chops for our evening meal. In future I shall go to a different butcher, thank you very much.

                And it’s down to the club tonight for another trudge. On Tuesday, I saw three foxes … can I beat that tonight I ask myself, Blog.

                                  Colin

Midlands Cross Country Championships Results 26th January 2013

Dear Blog,

Photograph Quiz:

http://imgbox.com/g/bpJ2xQGZmk

Photo no. 130 to 142:- My carer tells me that if you click on the above you will get a display of today’s runners at Stafford Common in the Midland Cross Country Championships. Now is that clever Blog, or is that clever. I shall miss walking to the chemist to hand in my film for developing and then popping back next week to pick up the photographs. What will they think of next. How about letters without stamps? Boy. That would be really clever. Sort of 1984 all over again, know what I mean Blog?

   I think everyone who went to the Midland Cross Country Championships should say a BIG thank you to Stafford Harriers for all their hard work. And a big thumbs down for all those athletes and team managers, including some from my own club, who critised the early day problems encountered by the officials and marshals. That is a little short of disgraceful with a capital ‘DISGRACEFUL’. They should recognise how refreshing it is for a club to solve a problem in these days of ‘Health and Safety’ rather than accept a little local difficulty and give up the ghost like the Sofety Southern Cross Country Association. Well done Stafford. And I’ll tell you about a little bonus Blog. ‘Derby Runner’ sports shop were At the event selling athletic gear. The shoes were only £20!!!! £20!!!!!!!!!!!! Now even if they were not the correct size and they didn’t fit, at £20 how could you not buy a pair???? I take a size 11 but a size 8 for £20, no problem. That is only £10 a shoe, or £2 per toe. A bargain, with a capital ‘B’. Put it another way, it is only 25p a toe nail. I’ll have some of that, Blog. So I purchased a pair. If Phillip Ardes can run for his club Athens A.C, against the Sparta Harriers in their annual inter club with his toes cut out of his shoes to make sandals, then I can do the same. No problem there then Blog. The new size eleven is size eight. Just a Stanley knife with a slash here, there and everywhere and I am fixed up for many, many trudges here, there and everywhere. Better than barefoot running. Although with all this talk about barefoot running in the magazines these days, I am fully expecting a phone call asking me if I would be kind enough to relate the time I ran a steeplechase barefoot. I would not charge too many quids. Remember in the sixties, it was all about showing how tough you were, and even Wilson or Alf Tupper never ran a steeplechase barefoot. So move over Ronnie and Brucie, make room for Colin!!!!!

   You have to admire the confidence of the Midland Cross Country Officials … the runners were required to wear a chip for position and finishing time. If that system failed they had the back up of a number worn on the front of the vest for position and finishing time. If the front number system failed they had the back up of a number worn on the back of the vest for position and finishing time. And if that system failed they had the photographer recording all the runners as they completed the course. And if that system failed, for a small few quids, they can ask for my help??

                                                       Colin

Southern counties Cross Country Championships 2013 - latest!

Do you know what Blog? I reckon all this snow has done something to the psyche of the females of the species .. well at least one female of the species.

Question:- What would most other blokes do after a hard long trudge over the deep and crisp snowy wastes of Northish Warwickshire? Answer:- Of course, they would shower, change and collapse into a comfortable armchair in front of the television set to watch an afternoon of gee gees racing while a steaming mug of coffee and a pleasant lunch was prepared by their wives and served up on a tray in front of a blazing fire …. as is the custom in our society. Simple. Obvious. It’s always been like that since Eve sliced the apple up and made custard for the crumble. Adam didn’t complain that it was quite tart. And did my wife follow the custom as laid down in the Good Book? Did she nelly. Did I flop into a chair after my challenging trudge, I ask you Blog? Oh no. It was on with the overalls, lace up the snow shoes, on with the mittens, adjust the deer stalker, straighten the jock strap and out into the garden. No rest for me after my trudge. Too conscientious, that’s my trouble.

Working away, concentrating is difficult without her wittering away nonstop. I lost it, I’ll tell you. The snow was deep and the job was hard enough as the snow was the wet stuff type that stuck together like glue. I had finished the head and body of my snow man and was into the finer details of his anatomy. She kept shouting from the doorway … have I done this, have I done that, have I done the other? A man can only take so much Blog. She could see I was busy but it made no difference at all. She went on about all the fiddly little jobs that needed doing around the house; when would I fit the new shower cubicle? When would I replace the flashing on the chimney stack? Wasn’t it about time I ordered some glass for the front room picture window which had been broken in the July storms? And so on and so forth. As I said, I had just got to the delicate bit of the snowman’s anatomy when I lost it. Or rather I broke it. It just snapped off. Being thin and pointy, it is often the hardest part of the construction. As she had caused me to make the mistake, I thought it only right that she helped make amends for putting me off my stride. So I asked her if I could borrow her pipe to replace the snowman’s which I had just broken. Stone me. I only asked to borrow her pipe. I didn’t want her best pipe after all, the one I bought for her 60^th birthday would do. And it would be returned after the thaw. She went nutterkins. Borrow her pipe indeed. I am not joking Blog, anyone would have thought that I wanted to borrow her washing up liquid or something. I told her that the yoicks from the village would appreciate her contribution to my artistic efforts when they popped up to the estate for a viewing. But she wouldn’t have it. In the end, I borrowed a tin of her rolling tobacco without telling her. A wise move on my part don’t you think Blog? And I do think that her blonde wig looks rather cute on the snow pig.

                                                 Colin

P.S. The acronym S.C.C.C.A. doesn’t stand for the Southern Counties Cross Country Association but stands for Softies Can’t Cope, Can’t be Arsed. The ‘Southern’ have cancelled their Championship … Health and Safety’. Stone me Blog, first the Universities Championships were cancelled last year and the students showed a couple of fingers at their masters in charge and got stuck in themselves and made their own arrangements … then the Midland cancel and then the National Road Relay cop out only for the ordinary club members (aka Notts A.C.) at grass roots level to show a couple of fingers to our masters in charge and got stuck in and made their own arrangements. I suppose the Southern clubs will show the same deference. What is happening to the LEGACY??? What a joke???

I will be attending the Midland gathering of cross country runners tomorrow .... if the snow is not too deep!!!

The Liz Kershaw Radio Programme

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no. 129ishish:- OK Blog. You are really pathetic at these quizzes … so some help for you with this one. This was taken May 27^th 1950 on a cloudy cold day. It was the start of a marathon. The runner in the centre (small one, black hair) told me yesterday that he finished absolutely knackered as he hadn’t done the mileage and the weather was terrible!! Who is the runner? Who won the race? Which Godiva runner came second (3^rd left, hidden!)? … Not no. 13, that was Fred. Fred who you ask Blog? Oh yes, and while I am at it, who measured the course, the reverse of which incidentally, was used for the Coventry Marathon when it was revived at the time of the first jogging boom … the course which the Godiva club marathon runners used as their traditional ‘22’ on a Sunday morning in the late 60s early 70s when Godiva were unassailable. Now wasn’t that interesting Blog. Wait till “The History of the Coventry Godiva Harriers and Other City Clubs” is published, which will be the week after I win the Lottery as that is the only way I can fund it. Bugger. I don’t do the Lottery. 

Dear Blog,

   With all this snow about, curtailing my trudges here, there and everywhere, I have been listening to the snow line update on the local radio. Now I have to confess that I am not a fan of local media at the best of times, mainly because they can dish out the sludge, but can’t take it. They are immune from criticism because they are self-protective and their defences cannot be breached as they have the power to simply shut up shop or pull the plug out or switch off the electricity. An example, which I happened across while doing a bit of sorting through my history notes during the snowy showers. Two years ago local lad made bad, shock jock Gaunt, left for the big city lights and longer wavelengths and was soon to be followed on one of his spots on local radio by Liz Kershaw. O.K. she comes from across the border from God’s Own County but not all of us can be perfect. I think she had a morning programmes as well as her show on Radio 6. Remember how quiet she became when it was exposed that she was fiddling the ‘phone ins’ to her quiz on the programme on the Radio 6 channel. The contestants were not real listeners but staff working on the production side of the show! I wrote to her to see if there would be any reaction to my comment about her and another presenter falsely claiming to be talking to members of the public who had phoned in. TOTAL SILENCE. That is about par for the media. And the Levitation Enquiry will do nothing to change the situation because that nice Mr Cameroon and his mates have the power to shut us all up, simply shut up shop or pull the plug out or switch off the electricity. So what did I write to Liz Kershaw following her upset with Aunty Beeb, you ask Blog. Read on my son …………….

There was a young girl called Liz,

Who had the BBC in a tiz.

The phone-ins weren’t real,

The show a done deal,

Which meant Liz’s quiz had no fiz.

   ….. which I thought was quite good, even though I thought it myself.

Snowy Training Tip :- Have I mentioned before .. I think not. So the snow is deep and crisp and even not going anywhere soon, so what to do? I mentioned a few days steady trudging did no harm at this time of year, but there can be enough of a good thing. Ab as opposed to adductors can suffer from too much slipping. So what to do next? The all-weather track cannot be used because the weather is bad (THE irony of ironies?? You have to smile Blog). Adapt and survive Darwin told the penguins in the Gallapipidosidoses. For efforts, long short or whatever, for sprints, for warmups => …. Use the local multi storey car parks after the workers have gone home. I always cleared it with the security at the University before I started so they didn’t think I was a yob about to damage what cars remained after the rush hour. They were always understanding and helpful. When the club was based at the Butts in the centre of Coventry (pre 1984, I used the council car parks. The one near the Butts in Queen Victoria Road was always deserted. Eerie at times, especially when I was doing flat out efforts up the stair wells. In years of use, I cannot remember ever meeting anyone on the stairwell. Hardly surprising when you consider the place was so dark and forbidding. Even the local yobs and druggies gave it a miss. Talking of druggies, I may just render a few lines soon about the Armstrong affair and relate my experience with a couple of cyclists …I may. But then again I may not! Watch this space.

                                Colin  

A circuitous route to arrive at the passing of a runner.

Blog,

         It’s a funny old world Blog.

        In the great scheme of things, it must take a good deal of planning to create some of the co-incidences which strike us as remarkable and memorable? Of course, mathematically this is far from the truth because the one event we remember as significant is just one event of an infinite number of different scenarios which occur each day. With a huge set of threads / pathways which we could follow each and every day, it is not surprising therefore that one pattern is thrown up every now and again which seems to be so unusual that we place an unnatural emphasis on it. Just as all those monkeys with their stack of typewriters can upstage William S., one event is bound to be memorable sooner or later for all of us.

        So …. Here we go. Concentrate Blog because my tale to you today might involve some serious interweaving of events!!!!

        A couple of letters ago I sent you a photo with the caption

Photo no. 125:- The race starts, or used to start, in front of a cathedral. Which one? In which year was the event first held? Who organised the first race? What type of race is it? Which well-known national company took over the organising of the event? Where does the bridge in the photo lead to? CLUE => think ‘Pink Panther’.

     Well last week (Jan 13^th) the latest edition of the relay (oops an answer) took place. If you look closely at the photo (thanks to the kindness of David Hewitson [Sports for All Pics, www.sportsforallpics.co.uk] for allowing me send you this Blog) you can see a cathedral. This is where the original relay (oops the same answer) started and finished. If you look closely at the photo you will observe that the runners are not male and a long way from said cathedral. When the original relay (oops not again) took place, it was for males ONLY. Males with a capital ‘M’. (OK an ‘O’ as well if we are to be accurate about this. And we are as always). Now, it was in my final year at the Pink Panther University, the year after the relays were inaugurated, that I ran my first marathon.

   In the photo you may be able to pick out me, Ron Hill and the organiser of the Ladies first National Marathon Championships which I mentioned in my last letter. I think he actually won the race in 2:21:38 (!). Interestingly, it may have been the year that Ron Hill was doing his third race in four days …. Or it may have been a different year?!!! He won the Salford ‘7’ (I think it was) in bare feet on the road!!!! (OUCH). Then he won the Rivington Pike fell race in lousy weather conditions, and the marathon on the MONDAY (Big Clue there Blog), again the weather turned out to be not too nice with a sudden flurry of snow and falling temperatures. Note my gear of gloves and long sleeved top over my university vest.

        I ran four marathons that year. In my second marathon (it might have been my third??) I came second, 80 odd seconds behind the winner (It was his first marathon). I heard yesterday that the winner of that particular race has just died. Sad. He was a nice bloke. After the presentation for the awards which took place in an open air swimming pool, we were both violently sick for a particular reason; the same reason. Question:- Why were we both sick??? The same cause, what was it?

       

   And interestingly, here is a picture of the prize I won that day (honestly Blog, nearly 50 years old. Would I lie to you Blog?) …. Minus the content which were made of fine bone china, none of your plastic rubbish in those days. Question:- Had plastic been invented in those days????

        And a month or two later I ran my fourth marathon of the year in which I came second to a future Olympian. Question:- Who was the future Olympian? … and twelve months later I ran my fourth marathon of the that year which happened to be the AAA Marathon Championships.

    And the runner who has just died also ran. Which one is he in the photograph? Yes, number 16!! What is his name? Question:- Who is number 36, my future team mate. And the little fella, second left, came third in my first marathon. He is hidden in the middle at the back in the first photo… I told you he was a little fella, didn’t I Blog?  Question:- What is his name? Question:- Which runner is yours truly? Easi peasi or what? Still sticking this out Blog? Not lost? Goodonya! Boy it was hot that day, made worse by seeing my uncle outside every pub on the course supping yet another pint. Was it 26 miles or 26 pints? The latter!! No drink and drive slogans in those days. At least he was capable of hitting the brake pedal hard and fast on the way back home for me to chuck up at the roadside rather than me utilising his glove compartment in the car … too much sun!!! Still with me Blog? Lost the thread Blog? Stick in there Blog. I say ‘uncle’. He was, but he was only a couple of years older than me so I didn’t regard him as an uncle; he used to throw a wobbly when I called him ‘uncle’ while we were out!!! Little did I realise at the time that I was to start my teaching career within four miles of where the AAA event was held!!! Question:- Where was the AAA marathon championship event held?

               => A strange story … following my post graduate year at the Pink Panther University, I was accepted on a post graduate Master’s degree course at Manchester. In the middle of August, I received a note from the Science Research Council (or whatever it was called in those days) telling me that they had noted that I was a qualified teacher and was therefore not eligible for the grant for my research!!! I immediately contacted my M.P. to sort out what was going on. I received no immediate reply and began to panic. At the time, I was working as a grounds man during the summer months to get a few quids and my employment would end at the beginning of September so I would be left a little short of the afore mentioned few quids. I needed a job!!!! Following the advice of a Prof. at the Pink Panther University who I occasionally ran with and who always advised that ‘if you want to succeed in a particular area of interest, you go to where that interest can offer the best.’ I was interested in road running and Coventry was the place with unquestionably the best road runners. So I desperately searched for a job in the Coventry area. Fortunately there was a vacancy not too far away and luckily I was appointed. Four weeks into my first term of teaching, I got a letter from my M.P. apologising for the delay in replying to my letter but he had been on holiday during the Parliamentary recess and had only just returned. He told me he had sorted my problem with the Department of Education (or Science) and my grant was now in place, and I could start at Manchester for my Masters. Thanks Mate!!! What a dilemma. Four weeks into teaching … what did I say to the kids, ‘Sod you’, and take up my place at Manchester??? How could I do that and live with myself??? I asked Manchester if I could defer for a year and continued to teach!!!

        Oh yes, I did get my revenge in the AAA Championships for my second place in the previous year’s race as I beat the runner (no. 16) who has just died.

       Boy that was complicated Blog, worse that a Touch of Frost? Did you follow the plot Blog, unravel all the clues? Who do you think did it Blog? Correct, it was ……………………………….

                                                  ……….Colin

And the good Lord said 'Let there be snow.' And there was snow. And he saw that it was deep and crisp and even deeper in places.

Built your snow man yet Blog?

So the snow doth snoweth. So what? Trudging is so peaceful ... no people, no traffic. And across the fields or parkland, a glance behind shows only one set of footprints in the virgin snow. Seeing the set of prints following me never fails to remind me of that syrupy verse which is often printed on tea towels and the like, about the  two sets of prints then the single set going across the sand on a beach ... '  and why was there then just  one set of prints oh  Lord?'.  Sorry, but it always reminds me of the verse!!! Mum had such a tea towel! It may be hard to follow a set schedule Blog, in the snowy conditions, but the snow won't be around for long (.. as he said in 1963), so why not used the conditions for a little mental refreshment from the hard routine of intervals, hard runs, races and the like. A mid-winter break from the slog! A few days trudging about in the snow will do nothing for you but good. Enjoy a stress free day or two travelling across the country. Try a few new paths. Look around for the tracks of the natural inhabitants whom you are usually totally unaware of! If you run on playing fields, play mind games by either using your own foot prints on each lap, or make a different track on each lap so that whoever happens to along that way next, will be impressed by the amount of work you have done! Is it not farcical that the country panics at the first (and second and third ..) sight of snow. Why all the school closures? I remember running to work after a particularly heavy fall, knowing full well that I, another member of staff who lived local and the caretaker would be the only three members of staff in. and so it proved! But on the final hill just before the school gates, I have to admit that I was impressed to see a single pupil up to his knees struggling through the drifts to get in. We invited him to join us for a cup of hot chocolate and biscuits. He was quite shy!! Especially when I ask ‘And why did you try to get into school when the weather was so bad that it was almost impossible to walk, and more important, why did you bring (carry) your bike?’ Bless him .. ‘I always come to school on my bike sir, and any way, it might have melted by home time’. I had to smile inwardly. The snow over a foot deep and going nowhere for a week!!! At my third school, another country school, I could appreciate the Head shutting up shop early as he was at the mercy of the coach companies who bussed the kids in. A village school, surrounded by a series of hills, the companies refused to come out after 1:00pm if the snow was getting deep for fear of getting stuck. Of course, I never missed a day in such circumstances. I was the only member of staff with a record of full attendance!! It was a bonus if the school was or had to be closed early. Running to and from work, such conditions meant that I could get a few extra miles in! Just like the asbestos problems we had … but that is another story for another time.

                                     Colin

Move over Old Moore, mine are true!

Dear Blog,

                    I keep giving you these exclusive tips about events and happenings. Do you ever take notice Blog? I told you about the portable water purifier recently; wait till the press catch on! Who told you about the Tour de France starting in God’s Own County before the press release??? And who told you about where the start would be and the route before the press release??? Today, the press caught up with yours truly!!!! Well, let me tell you that the ‘Tour’ actually passes within 50 yards (48 metres to you Blog) of the house where I grew up in Keighley. True.  Would I lie to you Blog???

         Question:- Guess where will I be spending a day of my summer holidays Blog???

So, as they say … ‘On yer bike, matey Boy.’

                             Colin  

The snow of '63 returns? No way babe!

Told you to get the old woollies out of your wardrobe didn’t Blog I Blog? Was I right or was I right???

I thought you might be interested to see where I decided to turn round and abandon my session. You can appreciate the exposed position in a snow storm with the wind whipping the down fall into drifts with alarming speed. Although I was about seventeen I was worldly wise to the vagaries of the weather over the moors. Not very high as hills go, but with nothing between where the photo was taken and Lancashire (cough, spit and three ‘Hail Marys’) it was no place to be in bad weather. Under normal circumstances, a return route would have been moorland paths involving a little more climbing, then about four miles down the valley back to civilisation. I shudder to think what might have been the consequences if I had been foolish enough to continue my planned session!! So the snow comes down. It is funny isn’t it Blog. A covering of snow, out for a trudge over the fields … and suddenly a man has got to do what a man has got to do!! Something deep in the psyche from primordial times about animals marking out their territory I suppose? I remember on a previous occasion when the snow was deep and thick and even, I had just got as far as the ‘r’ in ‘Kirkham’ when a group of hikers suddenly appeared around the bend in the pathway … How embarrassing was that Blog? There again, it is something the female of the species is incapable of???

Birmingham League winner January 2013

The Birmingham League Division 1 / Women’s League on Saturday was as near as we get these days to the old fashioned cross country course with plenty of climb, plenty of mud, and a respectable distance for a blowout … well almost. Interestingly it was as near as damn it to where club member Bas Heatley won his first National Cross Country title. I was a little surprised Bas wasn’t there watching – he was at the Warwickshire County Championships the week before taking the mick out of me while I was trying to do a David Bailey with mud up to my fetlocks trying to get an atmospheric photographic shot of my daughters going through the nasty ditch. Now Blog, ‘Quiz Time’:- where and when did Bas win his first National Cross Country and where did Godiva place in the senior team race?

Today I wore one of my Christmas presents for the first time, a gift from my nephew and niece who live in God’s Own County. A thick pair of black thermal socks. Excellent. Working in the snow and slush on the estate driveway (it’s coming along nicely thank you Blog) my feet were like two snug bugs in a rug. That is the good news. The bad news is that they are so thick that I now need to invest in a new pair of boots for my feet to fit in. With my Christmas present socks on, my present pair is a size too small.

I’ll tell you what Blog. This red dot business on the television set is clever, isn’t it? The man in the postal office never mentioned it when I last renewed my television licence. The big question of course, is now … how do you recognised the red dot is a red dot if you desire to find out what the weather is and you still have a black and white television set, which would probably be the case with me if I hadn’t won a colour television. Interestingly, the black and white television which the colour television replaced which I won in a marathon race, replaced was the won I won in a marathon race which incorporated the first National Marathon Championships Race for Women in this country. Now Blog, ‘Quiz Time’:- where and when did the first National Marathon Championships Race for Women take place and who won? Who was the marathon runner who did the organising?? Interestingly, I think he came second in the first marathon I ever ran. Now Blog, ‘Quiz Time’:- where and when was my first ever marathon race? What was my finishing position and what time did I do? …… and what’s round comes around => it snowed in my first ever marathon. SNOWED. Blog I kid you not.

                                                               Colin

The winter snows of 1963

Blog,

Mr Jessop popped round to the mansion ,before breakfast today with my photo which I couldn’t send to you a couple of days ago Blog. I offered him a coffee by way of a ‘thank you’, but he said he couldn’t stop as he had a shop or two or two hundred to shut up, or rather, shut down.

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no. 129:- Appropriate to my letter to you Blog …. So who won this?

Dearest Blog,

               Got your woolly undies ready? According to the doom and gloom merchants in the weather forecasting departments of the media, snow is on the way. It was fifty years ago today, well actually it was boxing day …. So, ‘it was fifty years ago on Boxing Day, that the snow it snowed and it snowed and it snowed’. In fact it should read, ‘it was fifty years ago LAST boxing Day, that it snowed and it snowed and it snowed.’ In the September of 1962, the Head of Sixth Form at my Grammar School had lectured all the sixth formers that if we entertained any hopes of getting a place at University, it was most important that we had a hobby and that it was essential that we were articulate and knowledgeable about it. At interview, he went on to tell us, the University staff would assume that we were academically able, and the interview would focus on our out of school interests. How right he was! I assume I have told you about it before, Blog, so to cut a long story very short, I became a ‘Harrier’!!!!!!!! (If I haven’t related to you before the whys and wherefores of my starting to run, let me know and I will expand at length on the topic!!) Remember that in those far off days, there were not many universities and obtaining a place for someone from my social background was not very easy. So any tip that might help gain me admission was taken very seriously. So I started running in September. Once interested in something I tend to obsessive and go way, way over the top. So it was with running; from doing only the running imposed on us by the school’s P.E. staff, I decided that if I wanted to succeed in this sport, I should have to run each and every day. So come Boxing Day 1962, it was on with the kit, out of the front door and up the hill to the moorlands. It was snowing when II left home, but not too much. A couple of hundred feet higher up the lane and the picture was entirely different. The snow was deep, the snow was drifting in the strong wind and the snow was forming into deep drifts. Running soon became difficult as the depth of the drifts across the roads made running an impossibility. Clearly, discretion was the better part of valour and I decided to turn back towards home. Henry would have agreed with me.

 The winter into 1963 got pretty desperate with repeated snow storms, sub-zero temperatures, iced up roads and pavements. The local councils could not cope with the conditions. I knew that the weather was exceptional, but this was my first winter of running and, as I had nothing to compare the conditions for running in other winters, I accepted that training went on no matter what the prevailing weather. So I went on training no matter what the weather conditions were!!! I knew no better. Each and every day, with the occasional Friday off if my club, Bingley Harriers, had a race on the Saturday. The point I am trying to get over to you Blog, is that it started to snow on Boxing Day covering everywhere with a thick blanket of white … and the next time I saw grass, roads, pavements without snow was in the first week of March when the club travelled down to Cambridge for the National Cross Country Championships. For me, it was a baptism of fire, training every day in appalling conditions. But I knew no other. I thought this winter was the norm. In the days, months and years to come, whenever I felt like not doing a training session, the thought of my first winter never failed to spur me on and it was ‘on with the kit and out of the front door’. I can honestly say that in fifty years of trudging, I don’t think I have chickened out of ANY session, not ever nohow!!

 As an aside:- At my school, a northern grammar school, I suppose again because of my social background, you never talked to teachers. Ever. They were them and regarded, certainly by my parents, as unapproachable. Remember Blog, there was no such thing as ‘parent’s evenings’ in those days. The only contact between parents and staff was the school report which appeared regularly three times each year … and of course, the one describing my progress during the first term, September to December, was always crap. Why you ask Blog. I’ll tell you why Blog. My parents could not afford school dinners for me so I had to trail home each and every day. Plenty of time to do the return journey because school dinner time at the northern boys Grammar School was 90 minutes. Blog, I kid you not. Ninety minutes. Nine zero.  An hour and a half for everyone else who stopped for school dinners was a long time to kill. So what did they do? They did collaborative homework. And inevitable, they all got good marks from the teachers. Poor old me, had to do homework at night by myself, and it was less than perfect, needless to say. So. At the end of each Christmas term I was always near the bottom of the class, with all the hassle that that entailed. Come the Spring and Summer term reports, I was at or near the top of the class because reports depended on performance in the termly exams. Teachers never questioned this state of affairs because pupils didn’t talk to teachers. Ever.

 It came as something of a shock to me therefore when, soon after starting Latin in our second year (year eight to you Blog), my teacher turned to me at the start of the lesson and simply said ‘Good letter that Kirkham. Quite amusing’. Nothing else. Straight into amo, amas, amat and no messing… And of course the rest of the class were itching to find out what he was talking about. Come the end of the lesson, I was the centre of attention. Now remember Blog, I must have been all of twelve years old. I had to explain to my mates that I had written to the BBC programme ‘Any Questions’ and had my letter read out on air on the follow-up programme ‘Any Answers’. Obviously my Latin master had heard the programme. Obviously the programmes were not de rigueur for any of my class mates!!!! As an aside, I believe my Latin master was later High Master at Manchester Grammar School, so he must have been good???

 The only other member of staff ever to comment to me was my sixth form master cum maths tutor, who used to pass me most nights on the top moorland road on his way home from school while I was out trudging in the slush and snow. I knew no better, I always ran the same course.

                                          Colin

Training.

Blog,

   Training with a difference ….. not a trudge in sight!

The BBC have just wasted another half hour of the licence payers fee by banging on and on about the time keeping deficiencies of the British railway system. I have to confess that I do not understand why the railways are highlighted for particular denegration. I suspect it might be a long forgotten resentment against the railways for starting our obsession with time. Before the railways, it did not matter one jot whether one town’s time was the same, minutes or hours different from any other town. But the expansion of the railway system meant that the same time frame had to be adopted throughout the country. Clocks had to be synchronised. And with the standardisation of time keeping came the establishment of routine for all aspects of life and the strait jacket that this imposed on the populace. So our obsession with the time keeping of our trains is a subliminal reaction to events from 1840? It is ironical that it was the railways which demanded this synchronisation for which they now suffer so much public approbation … so like the hands on a clock, what goes around comes around?

If an air passenger arrives on time, or several minutes late, or a few minutes early, it is of no consequence as hours are spent disembarking, retrieving baggage and slogging through customs.

Does my wife ever moan when my trudge several minute more than expected? Well, she does actually!

Cross country coaches rarely arrive on time (ref Passenger Annual Report 2007). Motorway hold ups, traffic congestion, and road works all put obstacles in the way of arriving on time. The time lost in transit is par for the course. Never any public outcry, though. Trains run on a limited number of tracks, each engine depending on the time keeping of the train in front on the same line. One problem with signalling, a power failure or a simple loss of good time keeping by the preceding train and there is a cascade effect on all other journeys, such is the inter dependency of any railway system.

If you can afford the quids to take a taxi, after hailing the cab do you demand an e.t.a. from the cabbie before agreeing the fare?

Local buses are at the mercy of local road conditions and sticking to the timetable is often impossible for a whole driver shift. A few moans and groans from the locals is inevitably highlighted in the local rag to help the editor to fill a few column inches. But no one is genuinely concerned.

And if you travel by boat, what is an hour here or there in a mega journey time?

So its forget about the planes and boats and buses and coaches and get the boot into training (Virgin or Great Western …)!! Both feet first.

                          Colin

London Marathon 2013, here we come?

Dear Blog,

      Still can’t send the photos as Jessop’s won’t let me have my snaps as I wanted to pay with a gift voucher that I won in my last trudge. What sort of world do we live in? There was a time when men were men and supermen wore their knickers outside their trousers. And women knew their place and did as they were told. But not anymore. There was a time when our inferiors knew that they were our inferiors; now they have Unions and work place committees and the suchlike. There was a time when it went without saying that those of us who went to places like the Pink Panther University naturally filled our allotted slot in society; at or near the top waiting to be at the top. No question. None of this Polytechnic business. None of this Teacher Training College business. Universities competed in the Universities Cross Country Championships, and the successful ones like yours truly, competed for the British Universities. No question. No clutter from all those other pretentious little places. Take my own case. I wrote you before Christmas that I was putting in a new drive, building a wall, shifting hard-core around the estate, laying 2000, yes 2000, granite blocks, barrowing them twelve at a time from the granite sett pile to the drive way, mixing my own cement by hand, ditto the concrete for the wall foundations and so on and so forth. And why am I doing this myself, you ask Blog. You may well ask. Because the estate staff deemed that my generous Christmas gifts for them fell somewhat short of a paperhatless cracker. So, they are working to contract. I gave each and every member half a chicken, a piece of Christmas cake and a cracker which I thought showed my appreciation of their efforts throughout the previous year.  After all, they didn’t get the half a chicken last year. NOW. The Butler will only buttle, the gardener will only guard, the house maid is only concerned with her knee…….. What is the world coming too? Two weeks I have been having to work from 8:30am until 4:00pm. Carrying, lifting, digging, cementing, concreting. I am knackered, cream crackered, kalied every night. Bless my staff. I certainly do. And my wife tries to claim she is just as tired as I am. ‘I have been vacuuming’ – try mixing concrete by hand. ‘I have been baking’ – try building a wall. Here’s a good one .. ‘I have been doing the washing’! Oh yer. Putting the clothes in the washing machine – try barrowing the hard core a couple of hundred yards. ‘l have been shopping’ – try shifting 2000, yes 2000, granite setts. ‘I have been washing and drying the dishes’ – sorry, what was that about the electric dish washer? – try moving twenty paving concrete stones and putting in a new path to the front door. ‘I have had a coffee morning to organise’ – Bloody hell, that is really tough shit? And does she try to trudge every day after her exhausting day, I ask myself Blog?

                     And of course, having attended the Pink Panther University to spend three years doing a few sums, I am adept at coping with this 1:2:3 ratio business of concrete mixing. No problem there then. The instructions on the back of the cement package are quite explicit, 1:2:3. Cement to sand (sharp not builder’s) to pebbles. 1:2:3. There in black and white. BUT. It doesn’t say whether to use lbs. or kgms.! Very remiss of Wickes Builders Supplies. I shall take my business elsewhere in future. I could be generous and put the omission of units down to the whole country converting to metric from imperial in 1972, but I do feel they have had ample time to decide whether 1:2:3 is in lbs. (or even stones) or kgms. After a little cogitation I decided to go with kgms as the bathroom scales were metric as I used them for the measurements. My dear wife is not too happy about the state of the scales after two weeks of measuring my cement, sand and pebbles on them. But, boy it was slow going, There must be a quicker way, surely Blog??

             Interesting. One Christmas gift from a dear relative was a calendar for 2013. Having completed my rich and varied social activity list for January, I turned over the page to fill in my rich and varied social activity list for February .. and there was no February. It was March. Now I know that that nice Mr Cameroon is trying to get more work not less out of his plebs, so I knew that something was amiss. And I know I don’t do too much socialising very often, but I should be prepared just in case that an event pops up in February. I do feel that I should have a the opportunity to fill in a February page just in case that someone somewhere might like to have social intercourse with me. So, NO February. Plain and simple. It was like 1782 all over again, but at least they only lost 17 days. Mr Cameroon and his mates were trying to twist me out of 28!!! No social life in February for Colin, then. But worse….. Does someone out there in the great other place, have two pages of February in their calendar. Just think of the consequences of trying to lead a double life for a WHOLE month. And worse. Like me, there may be hundreds of folk with no February to look forward to. A medical physiological time bomb waiting to happen? Will the Health Service have the facilities to cope, I ask myself Blog. Is that Mr Hunt fellow prepared? And worse still. Are the publishers of the calendar left with a stack of ‘Februarys’? Do they know what to do having all these extra days left on their hands? At least they have only to accommodate 28 days in their ‘lost days’ store room. Just think what might have happened if they had had to cope with 29 days clear. Where would they find the extra space? The company could have gone bust?

                Because, as athletes, most of us cannot afford to train full time, all of the time, we must be clever in what we do. We must be efficient, make every second in every session count. So with all the lifting and carrying and lifting and mixing and lifting and barrowing and lifting and building and lifting, I am seriously considering quitting trudging in favour of weightlifting – catch weight of course.

                       Colin  

Warwickshire Cross Country Championships 2013 results

Photograph Quiz:

Sorry Blog, the photo hasn't come back from the chemist's so I will try to find out what has happened when the shop opens in the morning!!!

Photo no. 129:- Appropriate to my letter to you Blog …. So who won this?

What about that then Blog …… county championship day and the sun is out, the sky is blue and not a cloud to spoil the view  … and it not raining nor snowing, frosting, colding or any other inging! The Warwickshire was at Newbold Comyn in Leamington Spa on the course previously used for the National Cross Country Championship on more than one occasion. When was the last time Blog? Quids that you don’t know!!! In the senior men’s race, the team came first with 5 in the first five!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In 1963, Godiva had 5 in the first five with plenty of four in the first four (’59, ‘64, ‘69) which leaves me with about thirty five years still to search to see if this year’s county championships can be emulated!!! Viz six in the first six!!!!! Toby Spencer took the race by the scruff of the neck after an initial burst by previous champion , Matt Lole. He stretched his lead further and further as the race progressed. Now I know that I do not have an armful of badges, and I don’t know what advice Toby gets, but once I hit the front, I nearly always tried to win as easily as possible, the theory being that I saw no point in having to recovery from an over exuberant race in which the result mattered, not the margin of victory. An easy win is a win, no quids given for the size of the gap! My younger daughter ran well considering she had had five races in twelve days culminating with the county which was the hardest and over the country. My elder daughter coped with the underfoot mud and the stream crossing to underline her improvement. My granddaughter asked me if she was old enough to run. Bless. It did highlight the fact to me how difficult it is for the youngsters at the bottom of their age group, giving as much as two years to the older runners. Any teacher will tell you Blog, that a birthdate in September gives a disproportionate advantage, physically and academically to those born in July or August. So a two year gap in a physical activity such as cross country is simply insurmountable!!! It must be so discouraging to the youngsters. It is a situation that should be addressed by the authorities. But of course, there are so many more important issues to be addressed; like who to invite to the next awards dinner or what the next initiative should be? My suggestion Blog => Perhaps age on the race day would make a small difference … and with all these new-fangled computer happy things, it should be easy enough to implement??

And today was the Centurion Runners Club promotion of first-Sunday-in-the-month-races. Granddaughter finished fourth in the 2 kilometre Fun Run but we didn’t wait to see mum finish third in the five mile race as we went back to the Headquarters in the local school for refreshments and homework. We easily dealt with factorising the twenty numbers which she had thought of and Theseus and the Minotaur offered no problem. With Ariadne and a maze to cope with, I have to question what most parents must make of the whole thing. As I said to my granddaughter, Ariadne obviously gave the ball of wool to Theseus not so much to find his way back out of the maze but to knit himself a warm jumper while he was waiting for the Minotaur to go vegetarian. And the challenge for me is that my granddaughter wants me to do the Fun Run with her next month, but to qualify, I have to run 2 kilometres in under 10 minutes! And my word that I have achieved that standard is not good enough; I have to have it witness by a trust worthy person! When are you free to meet me down the track Blog? Don’t forget your stop watch.

                                           Colin

Hereford 10 km

OK Blog,

              ….. so, for my comment in my last letter but two to you for ‘Peak District’ read ‘Hereford’!!! With all the rain of late, trying to find a campsite which would accept a tent for three days over the New Year break was like trying to walk on water. Fear of having three campers drowning on your property during the holidays seemed to have been something all site owners wanted to avoid!

So instead of a tent in Derbyshire, it was a camper van in Hereford for three days. Even there, the decision to hold the proposed 10 kilometre race on New Year’s Day, was not taken until the actual New Year’s Day!! The race H.Q. was on the banks of the river Wye at the local rowing club …. record rainfall + river + rowing club … is it any wonder that the decision to race was deferred until very late. Even so, the course was changed at the last minute which included a different start to the one usually used and the statement from the organiser that the course would be ‘about’ 10 kilometres. No complaint then. The local club did very well to allow the race to proceed; another example of a ‘new age’ club not being intimidated by ‘Health and Safety’ considerations but letting common sense rule the day. The whole field was shepherded the half mile to the new start by the organiser and the start put back fifteen minutes as a result. The best estimate, post-race, for the hilly course was that it was nearly a kilometre over distance. No complaints then. The race was organised by the local club without the benefit of sponsorship, all power to their elbow. A scenic undulating [the word is Herefordian dialect for ‘hilly’] course on a beautiful day with a coaster depicting the local Wye Valley Runners for each finisher with free tea / coffee / biscuits before and after the race with awards for every 5 year age group was praiseworthy and an example for more experienced clubs to follow. A lesson in what a road race should be which most of the latter day commercial events would do well to emulate. And best of all???? The male and female winners were rewarded for their efforts with a wooden hand carved trophy depicting Hereford Cathedral (it of the Mapa Mundi). And what is more, they were both carved by the race organiser … ABSOLUTLY BRILLIANT with a capital ‘A’ and a capital ‘B’. Waiting for the prize giving, I sat in the rowing club H.Q. over-looking the river in full speight, an evil brown colour of swirling fearsome eddy currents. Purposely built high above the river Wye to avoid flooding, the lower floor allowed for the frequent ingress of water, nothing being kept there that could be damaged by water. I sat in the sun watching a spider laboriously spin a new web in the corner of the window frame on the outside of the pane; eat your heart out Robert. I had an incredible urge to go outside and do battle, but I did not succumb and stayed indoors and had another coffee and a biscuit.

And so to watch the County Cross Country Championships on Saturday, five races in eight days … beat that Blog. Shades of Giro della Umbria???

                                                         Colin