Keep on Running

 

Only one who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go. -T.S.Eliot

 

Well it’s done, the big one the Bob Graham Round, or as it’s become know in this house simply the BG. It’s not just Mr Uhdd that’s exhausted, whilst he has more reason to be so than the rest of us, the boys and I are never the less, totally pooped.

How to tell you what it was like, I think we might have to have a guest post from Mr Uhdd for that, I can only tell you what it was like from the bottom of the hill. The weather was bad, out off the 44 peaks climbed, there were no more than a handful that weren’t shrouded in low cloud and whilst we are delighted, relieved that it went so well for Mr Uhdd and ‘Laid Back Runner’ others didn’t have it so good and had to retire, I was a bit of a loss as to what to say to them, you could see they were gutted, I suspect they will regroup and give it another go. And there were a lot of runners out there, the challenge starts at the Moot Hall in the centre of Keswick at midnight on Friday night, and there must have 50-60 people gathered to give them a good send off, in addition to the towns Friday night revelers, who seemed to think we might be the start of a party.

After they had gone and we went back to the climbing club bunk house that was ‘mission control’ I tried very hard not to think of them out on the fells, running in the dark, rain wind and low cloud, but as I heard the pacers come and go through the night, my GCSE geography, from long long ago, came into mind, hanging valleys, truncated spurs, U shaped valleys, scree slopes; which ever way you look at it, bloody big things to fall off and into.  So it was a relief when it came light, it seemed to me like one hazard  out of the way; we went to the second road crossing at Dunmail at about 7am, there were a lot of support vehicles and supporters there, not just from our club.

Looking, waiting with the kettle on, hot food ready, the next pacers ready to take over

 

There were many miss-sightings, ‘here they are, on the ridge, look’ only to realise on closer inspection, the dots were in fact sheep not runners, but on schedule, they came over the ridge

for a the briefest of stops, in the whole event, all 23hrs and 8 min, Mr Uhdd stopped, to eat drink and rest for only 38 min in total.

The running club are poetry in motion, so slick and prepared, everything is done to allow the runner to do just that, to keep on running. I’ve posted more photos on my Flickr site. The willingness and effort by club members, to help other  complete this challenge is impressive, sportsmanship and camaraderie at it’s best.

After we watched them leave Dunmail, there then followed a long drive (for us) around the mountains, to meet them at Wasdale,

they had a rough time on this leg and lost some time, we watched and waited

  

And saw some very nice sheep

When they came in to this check point, Mr Uhdd looked rough, he skin was grey and you could see from his bloodshot eyes he was dog tired

The climb out of this valley is murderous and I wasn’t yet confident he was going to make it, it wasn’t till he got to Honister that I felt, he could, and would do it. As they came towards Honister they decided to split up and ‘Laid Back Runner’ and his pacer went on ahead,

We waited  for them at the finish in Keswick, this time with Saturday nights town centre revelers, they both made the last push, up the main street, accompanied by much cheering from from family, friends, supporters, and anyone else who was around, to slam into the doors of the Moot Hall, job done. There were a few folk swaying around Keswick, who looked ready to slump to the floor on Saturday night,  but some have more reason than others:  ‘Laid Back Runner’ makes it to the Moot Hall

Back at ‘mission control’, the guys had to be assisted out of their running gear, showered and put to bed. The support team on the other hand, had a beer or two, it was very late, or early depending on your perspective, when I found my bunk

Mission Accomplished

 

Mission accomplished; Mr Uhdd ran ‘The Bob Graham Round’ in 23 hour and 8 minutes and his running partner ‘Laid Back Runner’ came in 22hours and 14 min.  We are very proud of them. More photos to follow.

Numbers Game

 

Preparations continue for Mr Uhdd’s attempt on the fell running challenge ‘The Bob Graham Round’ and whilst there has been a lot of training on the fells, there has been an awful lot of work in the planning, it’s like a military operation, and Mr Uhdd’s running club are seasoned campaigners. You are not alone in this assault on 42 of Lake District summits, each runner has the fell runners equivalent of a Doula, better known as a pacer, well several in fact for, at least one for each of the 4  legs of the attempt, they keep the runner on track, carry gear, navigate and provide support, company and motivation (it’s is as  much a mental challenge as a physical one.) The attempt is an impressive team effort. As well as the pacers there will be welcome support where the route crosses roads, here preferred food and beverage along with pre-packed bags of spare clothes, back up fell shoes and other goodies will be available.

I am struggling a little with the catering, for one thing I can’t quite get my head round how your guts can cope with eating running  and digesting at the same time (and we have planned for the eventuality that they can’t) and then there is the issue of what your body will crave, under such punishing conditions, my brief is tuna sandwiches (tuna, canned in brine, he’ll need the salt) with extra mayo, to hold the thing together, energy bars and gels, cereal bars. But the feed back we get from those who have ‘been there’, is you might ask your support team to prepare a bowl of hot porridge with honey at the road crossing, a plate of pasta, or a bowl of stew; but when you get there you are likely to want to eat things you normally hate, so I am tasked with going shopping, for thing Mr Uhdd would normally never eat, ‘Cup a Soup’ and ‘Pot Noodle’s’ being my starting point.

And what to drink, well this lot for a start

We don’t as a household, use ’sports cap’ mineral water bottles as a one off disposable item, we refill them with tap water until they are worn out, and as there is no way they are going to get left on the fells, the majority of these bottles will retuning home after the event and will be falling out of the kitchen cupboards with annoying regularity for many moths if not years to come

 

Our PC has been groaning under the strain of keeping up with the barrage of GPS way points, maps, spreadsheets, schedules, emails and attachments. So here are some numbers for the geeky.

24 hours to run and climb;

42, peaks, that means if you spend a  minute at each summit, admiring the view it will add you add 42 minutes to your overall time, you can’t afford to fritter that amount of time away, some of last weekends ‘BG’ runners finished with only 5 min to spare; if you want to look at the view, go back another day and take a picnic on this occasion only running and time matter.

66miles to go, at a guesstimate of two thousand strides to the mile that equals 128,000 strides, that’s an eighth of a million

26,500 feet of ascent, not far short of an Everest, from sea level.

Its not a big job it won’t take long.

Unwrapping the present

It was my birthday last week, I was given some beautiful scented lilies and a lens for the camera, I haven’t yet got to grips with the lens, the sensation is not unlike like swapping the family hatch back for a high performance sports car, I am not in quite in control, but I can ‘feel’ it’s potential. More test drives required.

Uh Oh, it’s windy, duck is going for a walk.

I’m sorry I digress, ‘Uh Oh; it’s windy, duck is going for a walk.’ comes from the children’s book, ‘Duck is Dirty’ by Satoshi Kitamura and it was a favourite book with the boys when they were very small, I wonder just how many times I read it to them, I know it was a lot.

The words came to mind yesterday when I went for a walk, it was wild, gale force winds, brining down sizeable chunks of tree

and turning the leaves inside out, I made a hasty pass of a derelict farm building, the roof of corrugated iron looked ready to let fly at any moment

But whilst the wind was buffeting, it wasn’t unpleasant, up on the hill the wind was scented with the smell of bruised bracken and it was sunny and warm. In fact it was a ‘right good drying day’ if you could keep the washing on the line as there was a high risk of your laundry getting snatched off and turning up three fields away. Mr Uhdd did a sterling job of pegging the washing firmly to the line, so much so, the pegs stayed on the line and our duvet cover shredded like an old flag, ‘Perhaps you could mend it’ he suggested ‘But to mend thing’ I pointed out ‘you have to have something of substance to sew the repair too’ and this I am afraid is a no hoper. But then again, yesterday wasn’t windy; this is what proper wind can do

Smile please

How do you measure a quality smile? There has been much in the UK press this week about the need for nurses to smile and Gadgets post of yesterday had me mulling on this conundrum

Ok so I am dumbing the issue down a bit here, but what its really about is the need for nurses to show compassion and empathy and they are entirely different things to a low grade smile. Nurses (and that’s a good number of my friends and acquaintances) have to carry the mantle of nurses somehow being ‘angels’, throughout their shift and that can’t be a light load, but I know there is scope for improvement, I’ve been there, well Mum has.

But how do you quantify a smile? not all smiles are equal, so do ‘they’ plan measure the smiles on a scale of 1-10? #10 being the nicest smile you have ever seen and #1 being a sneering sarcastic grin (oh dear an image of Gordon Browns ’smile’ has just come into my head, it’s not pleasant, think the joker from the batman movie.)

But anyone can tell when a smile is not genuine, a faux smile may stretch from ear to ear, but if the eyes aren’t smiling it’s not for real. And that’s the thing, you cant, slap a stick on smile on the face of the NHS and pretend its all OK, it has to come from what deep within, and that’s more (or at least I think it should be) than a stack of statistics and tick boxes.

Cut Backs

I am hairdresser in residence to the Uphilldowndale household, a lot of this has to do, not with my skills with a pair of clippers but the fact that my men folk are unwilling to spend time traveling to, or waiting for, a barber or a hairdresser.

(Model, Mr Grasshead, styling and photography by Joe Uhdd aged 11, earring, models own)

Much to the delight of Mr Uhdd this also saves us a wad of money (but no one is coming near my tresses, thank you very much, other than a  professional, somehow a number 3 cut isn’t very flattering on a girl of my age, Sigourney Weaver might be able to get away with it, I cant.)

It’s not a task I enjoy, and its just as well the guys are happy with a short back and sides, because I can’t do anything else, my tools are not the most sophisticated, (although I have got new scissors) in fact, between you and me the clippers are in fact dog clippers.

Not that they have ever been used in anger, on a dog; we bought them for our our old dog (RIP), however with his sore arthritic hips he was not going to let me anywhere near him, whilst wielding a pair of clippers, he would rather have matted fur than that, thank you very much. So he hid under the table and refused to come out and the clippers went back in the box. But his fur was such a mess that we did have to call on the help of the professionals, it was a bit of a blow for a ruffty tuffty working dog, to have go to the poodle parlour, but there you go, not sure the cut he got looked like ‘what he wanted’ though, bless him, it’s not very easy maintaining your dignity, when you are old.

Indoors if wet

Plan A was have an away day and go to the Cheshire Show today, we like going to the summer agricultural shows, although I am not sure they are that reflective of country life, (nor does Lavenderjack) but they are a good day out; the boys and I usually go to the Bakewell Show in August, but we won’t be able to make it this year, this is my post about it from last year. As the boys are at school I was going on my own, just to mess and mooch about with the camera, But the weather is the pits, wet and windy, the grass in the meadow is flattened by the weight of the rain and the garden is being thrashed by the high wind.

It’s a while since I went to ‘The Cheshire’ it’s a great place for people watching  situated near Knutsford and the epicenter of the Northern social scene for footballers, WAG’s, and   those who are flash with their cash,  the so called ‘golden triangle’ of the villages of Wilmslow, Prestbury and Alderley Edge, there’ are many who attend the show just to be seen;  rather than to look at the latest innovation in control of parasitic worms in sheep, buy a handy little gadget for cleaning Venetian blinds or a pot of lemon curd from the WI stand. (you can spot them by the deep orange perma-tans, that’ are the colour of Sainsbury’s carrier bags  that and inappropriate foot wear.)

That said, the shows attract a variety of people for other reasons, I had my purse and mobile stolen one year, that will not be happening again, what a load of hassle.

Today’s weather must be a blow for the traders, many of them tour the big shows, a washout will make a serious dent in their expected turnover for the year, but then again, they are not committed to a ten year lease, rent and rates 52 weeks a year and fixed staffing costs, unlike high street retailers; so maybe it just a case of choosing which horse to back, placing your bet and hoping it doesn’t fall at the first fence

So I shall remain at home today, there’s lots to do including a host of photos to up load to Flickr and a raft of half written blog posts to re-visit, but first I’ll put the kettle on.

Perfect day

The wedding, was wonderful, the ceremony was all the more meaningful for it’s simplicity, so many of the fripperies  of a traditional church wedding are cleaved away in a Quaker ceremony, leaving the bride and groom, and what we have all come to witness, their commitment to one another, at center of the occasion, it was very moving. Having spent over two decades dealing with the hype and drama of other peoples weddings, when I worked in the flower business, where I am sure many couples had given more thought to whether or not the colour of the bridesmaids dress clashed with the best-man’s cravat, than to the reason why they are getting married in the first place, it was like a breath of fresh air. Most of the ceremony is conducted in silence, this was a bit of a challenge to some of us, in spite of the fact I had checked three time that I had turned my mobile phone off, I still wished I had left it in the mini bus, just to be on the safe side.

We could not have been made more welcome at the ceremony by the other friends at the meeting house, they made us a splendid tea that included my all time favourite cake, ginger cake

After tea, cake and photographs in the garden, we went on to the reception, did I mention I thought some care might have gone into the selection of the reception venue and that real ale might be involved?

 

The meal  at the Thatchers Arms, Mount Bures, in Essex, was divine, I had rack of lamb with rosemary mash, served with a rich gravy, as dark as Tudor oak; the wedding cake was chocolate, with just a hint of something, alcoholic and citrus in the cream, the boys ate two servings, well most of us did actually, truth be told.

We sat out in the sun for a while, and took part in one or two ‘activities’ that had been arranged for us, (I may post more about that) to allow time our ample meal to digest and the band to set up. A cracking band, brought about much dancing, (even Tom felt moved by the music, to get up on the dance floor and he was particularly impressed by the drumming) there was just a little disappointment that the band didn’t have ‘Tiger Feet’ by Mud, in the repertoire but they did have this Elvis

One of the things that made it such a special day, was not only seeing the bride and groom so very happy, meeting old friends, but in addition to that coming home having made some new friends too.

I don’t normally post personal photos on my blog, and I’ve not asked them if they mind, but I’ll chance it: here you go,  ladies and gentlemen, please raise your glasses, a toast.

  ‘The bride and groom wishing them health and happiness, always.’

Come to the edge

This little bird is a chick from one of two families of blue tits that have been nesting in holes in the barn wall, he sat on the edge most of yesterday, while the parents worked their socks off feeding him, Tom and I were beginning to wonder if he would get so fat he would be stuck for the duration, in the end he gave it a go and we found him on the grass, or maybe one of the other chicks gave him a push.

Come to the edge.
We might fall.
Come to the edge.
It’s too high!
COME TO THE EDGE!
And they came,
and he pushed,
and they flew.    Christopher Logue

 

Well not quite we found him on the grass, twice, not much bigger than a butter ball, he looked very vulnerable and the cats looked very interested; we poked him back in the hole,(about 7ft off the ground) and left Moss the dog on sentry duty, keeping the cats at bay: there is not much more we can do, nature will have to take it’s course.

The other brood are about 16ft off the ground, so popping them back in the nest wont be so easy.