Amsterdam-Week 15

The week in numbers (so far)...

Miles ran: 34.28
Times I've been to the gym: 0 (must cancel my membership)
Alcohol drunk: 2 beers
Chocolate eaten: 1 bag white buttons, 1 bag minstrels, 1 bag caramilk buttons
Diets maintained: 0

Weight: 11stone13

Working all morning and then finishing small jobs in the kitchen that will no doubt take hours and make very little difference but they all need to be done.

It's track in the evening and I'm planning my usual 4 mile warm up and then going into C group, my B return will happen after Amsterdam.

The group is huge tonight, every group needs to be split into 2 or 3 smaller groups so I decide to stay back and start everyone before doing the session.  My choice here is to skip the first two and jump in with C or just do the whole thing by myself, I decide to go solo.

The session is 1600, 1200, 800, 400, 1000 with 2 min recoveries @ 26 per 100.  I start the first rep and feel weirdly good.  Rep 1 too fast @ 24's but that's okay and figure I'll slow down.  Decide to cut recovs to 90 secs as 2 min seems too long.

Rep 2 and again too fast, this time at 23's but still feeling good, short recovery and onto rep 3.  Pace is fast and with 200m to go Boxshall comes up on my shoulder.  Now the sensible thing here is to watch him vanish into the distance as I'm already running 3 secs per 100 too fast but I know and Boxshall knows this isn't happening.  I up my pace and hang onto him for the last 150m and cross the line absolutely wrecked.  The rest of A team all laugh at me knowing I still have a 400 and 1000 to go.  

I regret nothing.

Onto the 400 and I head off at the same pace I finished the last one at.  Final 90 seconds recovery and it's time for the 1000.

At this point by cutting recovs I've overtaken C team who I was supposed to be running with, I start the 1000 and with 300 to go I can hear them coming.  Then a couple of them come flying past, in the blur I see Owen pulling away and I know I don't have enough to chase him.

Then the kicker, with 150 to go.

I hear the scuffing of feet, like an old lady shuffling along in Sainsbury's getting her mozzarella sticks for tea.

It's Ben.

Bloody Ben.

I cling on for a bit but then he ups the shuffle and pulls away.

Shuffles away.

Home, shower and no wine as I'm not drinking for the next 2 weeks.

A relatively easy day work wise and should do kitchen jobs but I can't be bothered so don't.

Then it's off to the Boiler Shop in the evening for some old fella fun watching The Wedding Present with my fellow old blokes, Graham, Pete, Paul and we meet Steve and Paul and Parky, fast Parky that is, not 'other' Parky.  It's a real shame that 'other' Parky is now bloody fast but still will never be fast Parky.

I've always loved The Wedding Present, my brother Jay got me into them as a young lad and George Best is one of my favourite albums ever, it was however slightly disconcerning that David Gedge now bears an uncanny resemblance to our very own John Brettell, I know you'd rather look like Springsteen John but in the words of John Peel 'that boy Gedge has written some of the best songs of the rock and roll era' and i cant help but agree.

The Wedding Present were bloody marvellous, very loud and my insides feel like their vibrating for hours after it finishes.  I also drink 2 pints even though I said I wasn't drinking for 2 weeks but it's a gig and it's basically law that you drink at gigs.

I'm at another gig next week.

I will not drink at that gig.

I almost certainly will drink at that gig.

Plan today is a run to Tynemouth and back and then tag on a steady parkrun.  Head out at 8am which should fit perfectly with the planned pace, stop in Cullercoats to have a quick chat with a friend thats training for Dublin marathon and young Mark skips past me.

A few mins later I start up again and catch up with Mark and we turn and have a pleasant run back to Whitley together talking music and Mark compliments me on my running form that he says looks more upright than usual, always liked that fella.  He has superb taste in music and knows a lot about the weather.

Parkrun plan was a steady pace but I find myself on the front row and for the first time in ages I'm not blocked in and round the skatepark with a clear path ahead of me.  I decide to see if I can run around 22 mins but not feeling like it's an effort to do it.  So the plan is to back off if I feel it's too hard and to keep an eye on the heart rate.

I finish and cross the line in about 21:30 and feel bloody good, don't bother with co-op as need to get home to work.  One appointment and then back to kitchen duty.

Today I managed to install all the top cupboards and then get all the lighting also installed, a good day, a dirty, dusty, filthy day but a good day.

I also ate no breakfast and then for lunch ate what seemed to be a never ending huge bag of minstrals.  Every time I took 3 or 4 out and ate then it never seemed to go down.  After half an hour or so I felt incredibly sick but I didn't let that defeat me, I slogged it out and kept going.  Minstrel after minstrel was rammed in my mouth until I was sweating minstrel's.  Getting to the end of the bag and there were 4 left, I didn't think I could do two more mouthfuls so went for the obvious tactic of all 4 at once.  

This was a chocolatey mistake.

My jaw now hurts from eating minstrels and my mouth is rammed full of chocolatey goodness.

I push on through and swallow them, I feel incredibly sick.  Gail gets home and I tell her all about my minstrel escapades, she just stares at me and shakes her head and asks why I didn't stop eating them.

Foolish question.

This is the kind of day I'd love to open a bottle of wine. But I don't.  

We order a takeaway and sit in the kitchen and eat it and listen to music and talk for hours, it's bloody marvellous and this is why all my children are banned from leaving home.  I'd miss them all too much, I love having a full house and noise and music and laughter all the time.

Want to read all about my London adventure in 2023.

It's mostly about Ben, my sausage dog nemesis and wine.

LONDON CALLING

Well you've read the last two so may as well carry on.

Manchester, so much to answer for.  Yeah Ben gets a mention or two

MANCHESTER  - THE SECOND COMING

All previous blogs are available to read HERE