Yoek - Week 12

Monday is usually rest day but this week there's changes afoot, I'm off on holiday on Thursday so moving things about and also have 10 days worth of work to fit into 3 days so time is tight.

Needed to be out and back before 9am, so early morning steady run up to Tynemouth and back for some extra miles, back home, showered and then back to back appointments all day.

Also something of a milestone moment for me today, weighed myself just before I went out for a run and I was 11st1lb, it's been a long time since I weighed anything like that, went for a run and thought to myself, I wonder if I can get under 11 stone today?

So, finished run and stood on scales, took phone out of pocket and stood on scales, took off cap, took off glasses, took off t shirt, took off socks, nearly there, took off shorts, took off lycra undershorts, stood there stark naked and 10 stone and 12 pounds, I don't think I've weighed ten stone anything since I was about 12 or 13, fucking marvellous.

Then remembered all the kids were in the house and I was standing downstairs stark naked with the dog looking at me weirdly, so I put my shorts back on and went and had a shower.

Stupidly busy day working and won't get a chance for a run the afternoon.

Head out and start my usual 6 mile easy run but feel good and decide to add a loop through Tynemouth and Shields and in the end run about 10 miles at a decent pace with a nice pickup towards the end.

Then back home for a lot of massage appointments and then should really start to think about packing a suitcase, start with the running stuff and then go from there.

End the day with a couple of glasses of wine ro celebrate the fact I'm going on holiday tomorrow, I may not have mentioned that yet.

I am also going through a very intense period of listening to Nick Cave, this is on runs, when working and when pottering round the house, I've become a bit obsessed as I often do with these things

I'm on holiday, no running today just sunbathing, drinking wine and eating.  Three things I thoroughly enjoy doing and am very good at.

We have a nice little bungalow on a large complex with a couple of pools, a couple of bars and three restaurants.  We also have 2 bathrooms which is amazing as me and Mrs J get one each and I opt for the one that has no ceiling.  Now, I'm a man that's very easily pleased, a glass of wine usually does the trick but this is almost better than wine.  The ceiling is just a wooden trellis so when you're in the shower you look out at palm trees and birds flying past, genuinely one of the greatest things ever.  I think about doing the same with the bathroom ceiling at home when I get back but think it may not be quite the same.

The hotel serves wine in large paper cups, I reckon it's about 500ml to the top and they often fill it as close as they can get.  Now this is superb as I like wine and it's absolutely lethal as I drink each wine the speed I'd drink a normal sized glass.  This naturally means I'm very, very drunk and it's day one.  A useful tip from a nice fella in the bar queue one night is to always ask for a 'large' when getting spirits, this he assures me means you get about 300ml of spirit to 200ml of mixer.

He is correct.

This will be a holiday of epic hangovers.

Up early, grab some decent sunbeds again, this time I get three so ones always in the shade for Gail when she wants it and a couple in the sunshine and then off out for a run.

Today I shall head to the prom and turn left and see if the path that way is more interesting, turns out it is.

Follow the path until I come to lots of bits where restaurants span both sides of it and I'm never really sure if you're meant to go through the middle of them or not so I don't and I go round the back and then get lost weaving rounds these roads and paths.

Turns out as I've got older I realise what an unbelievably shit sense of direction I have and I get lost a lot.  I stop to pretend to take a photo but really I'm checking the map to get back on track, follow the path again and I'm in a marina and follow that and then realise I'm halfway along what is essentially a pier with a gate across it and again check the map and realise I've fucked up yet again.

Turn and start to head back, there are a lot of people out and about cleaning tables and hosing down the paths.  I'm running through a shopping and restaurant area and a little angry Spanish lady shouts, I assume at a friend but then as I get nearer it's obvious she's shouting at me, what about I have no idea but she looks angry and points at me and does more angry Spanish shouting and hand waving, the hand waving isn't Spanish, I guess that's more of a universal thing really.

I keep running and try and ignore her angry Spanish rant and then see a young Spanish fella with a hose pipe cleaning the pavement and he shouts back at her whilst looking at me and pissing himself laughing as he points at her and then me.  I have no idea what's going on, I just look a bit confused as I run and do weird 'sorry, not sure what is happening' arm gestures at both angry lady and laughing man.

I'm pretty sure he's saying "don't worry fella, she's fucking nuts and we all just ignore her" but I'm not sure.  I think she's pissed I ran through her freshly hosed piece of pavement or maybe I'm not supposed to be in this area but I don't bloody know as I don't speak angry Spanish lady language.  My entire knowledge of Spanish comes down to three things -

Eggs are huevos.

Wine is vino and I can order vino blanco, vino tinto and vino rosado.

Beer is  cerveza and I can order una cerveza or dos cervezas.

I'm not entirely sure any of this knowledge will help much in this situation, I'd go as far as saying that if I called her a 'huevos' or asked her for a glass of red wine I could infact make her even angrier.  I keep running and hear laughing man still laughing at me, I turn Nick Cave up a bit and make a mental note to learn some offensive Spanish phrases for next time.

As I run on I see loads of runners and not a single one nods or smiles or gives me the runner nod, miserable bastards.  Then I see a tall older fella running, he looks German, he spots me, he shouts 'guten morgen' and raises a hand for a run by high five, we high five I shout back guten morgen and it's the highlight of the run.

He is now my new best friend.

I never see him again.

He lives on in my heart.

I'm still pissed about the Spanish lady.

Vete a la mierda, viejo cabron loco.

All previous blogs are available to read HERE