Friday 29 March 2013

Spring into Spring

Another of my Garden Sculptures Blog. The Estate Sculpture Park is threatening to be a big hit with the general public over the Easter Holiday period, Blog; a ‘must visit attraction’. Why don’t you bring all the little Bloggies to a viewing. Inspire them it will. (Tickets at the Gate Lodge, reduction for family groups and O.A.P.s.)
Entitled “SPRING”
 

Dear Blog,
          With all the media bombarding us from all sides with stories of woe about the weather conditions during the last couple of weeks, as I crunched along on my trudge in the few remnants of snow here there and everywhere, I thought about the cold races in the past …in half a century of training once, twice, nay sometimes three times a day, nothing compares to this March weather. Yes in my first marathon in 1966, there was a certain amount of snow still in the sheltered hedge rows and a few flurries during the race itself, but nothing to worry my long sleeved vest and gloves too much. It was my first marathon. It was cold. So what was the problem??? No big deal for the media. Coincidentally, it will be the forty seventh (47) anniversary of my debut on Easter Monday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
         Pop back to February and the snow and cold were nothing much to remark about. February and snow and ice goes with the territory. My first Northern Cross Country Championships running for my club, Bingley Harriers, at Witton Park Blackburn, took place in the Big Freeze of 1963. My race, the youths, was the first event in the programme. Remember in those days, it was Youths, Juniors and Seniors; none of this under 16s this, and under 15s that or under 12s the other business. No faffing with Mickey Mouse races!!  And women were a definite no no!! They were still tied to the kitchen sink boiling hot water for the tin bath in front of the coal fire when men like me got back from the races. We had a tin bath in front of the coal fire, did you Blog. Honest. I kid you not. The start of the Youths race was at the bottom of the park, on the other side of the wall from the main road. In the two day respite from the sub-zero temperatures a week before, snow melt had formed a gigantic lake in the depression in the ground over which we were to run after about 400 yards (382 metres to you Blog) from the start. Because the let up in the Big Freeze was brief, the water had not had time to drain away, the ground never thawing out enough to allow water to percolate into the subsoil. So a huge frozen lake, inches (centimetres to you Blog) thick with a thick ice cap had formed to be covered in the first initial rush at the start of the Championship race. Although there was no Health and Safety shenanigans in those days, the organisers had taken the precaution of testing the ice for the safety of the Youths. Workmen had spent time, much to the amusement of those runners warming up for their event, trying to smash through the thick ice with sledge hammers and pick axes. The ice held firm showing no signs of nyielding to the brute force of the workmen. The lake must have been about 300 yards (394 metres to you Blog) across. The gun fired, the youths race started and we rushed towards the erstwhile lake. First came the an ominous groan, then a growl. The weight of 300 seventeen year old males is considerable. The entire field was soon spread across the entire length of the ice covered lake. The creek, then loud crack, much louder than the starters pistol, was audible to all, spectators and runners alike. The ice surrendered. The surface shattered and everyone was thrown into the icy cold waters, battered by the sharp huge chunks of ice swirling and churned around by the runners. It was not pleasant. But no one complained. And no one complained when the second lap took us through the ice berg strewn lake again…. Boy, that WAS chilly!! But it was my first year of running. So what was the problem??? The media were not too concerned.
        The Midland Cross Country Championships at Trentham Park in 1968 was cold and snow packed. But it was winter. But it was cross country. So what was the problem??? The media didn’t give a tinkers.
       Now the first flake is headlines. Two flakes we shut the schools. Three flakes cause motorway blockages and four results in a national crisis of Churchillian proportions. And with all these memories vying for space in my cranium while trudging along dreaming, over I went. Never like that in the old days when it was really snowy and icy.
       So Good Friday was not too Good a Friday Blog.
                                                       Colin

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