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.

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.’

Role Reversal

Jack Sprat could eat no fat

His wife could eat no lean

And so betwixt the two of them

They licked the platter clean

So goes the traditional British rhyme, well in this household the roles are reversed. Mr Uhdd continues a pace to prepare for his attempt at the ‘Bob Graham’ fell running challenge next month (its a while since I mentioned it, so here are the statistics; length 74 miles, taking in 42 Lakeland peaks and over 28,000 feet of ascent, to be completed in 24 hours.)

The amount of training required for this sort of challenge, needs fueling and ‘catering control’ (and that’s me) is struggling to stop him from eating himself, his body mass index is now down to 20.6 and his body fat is 3.7 that’s heading for pro cyclist levels. Meanwhile I am shopping for and living amongst food I most defiantly shouldn’t be eating; it’s high in protein and fats and there seems to be no restriction on the flapjack, chocolate and biscuit consumption. It’s hard to cater for a more modest diet for me and keep focused on the salad draw in the fridge, when the other shelves are laden with so many tempting goodies and the fruit bowl is juxtaposed with the biscuit tin.

I’m awash with commitments and challenges of my own over the next few weeks, though non so energetic. So posting and blog reading may be a bit spasmodic till mid June, when normal service will be resumed.

Sullied Reputation.

My reputation at work is taking a bit of a slide

Last week the boss of bosses, caught sight of me in the corridor

‘Ohhhhh, goodness, Heather, I thought for a moment your were….’

Then the security guard (large) was also taken aback,

‘Bloody hell, it’s a bit early for that!’

The cause of this problem is my thermal tea mug. Now regular readers will know I am fond of a nice steaming mug of tea, but what I don’t like is vending machine tea, it is the devils brew; even a bottle tepid aspartame riddled ‘pop’ seems like nectar in comparison to ‘machine tea’.

My work is a bit nomadic, I wander around the site with no desk to call my own, nowhere to hide a kettle, so on the days when I know I am going to be out of range of the cafeteria I take my insulated mug, it’s one of those bits of kit, that does all you could ever ask of it, the right size, not so small as to be like drinking from a thimble, nor so big It’s like hauling a firkin around all day, it keeps my tea nice and hot. I even like the colour, I chose it especially, its green I like green, it’s a little like the green triangles in Quality Street, I like them too.

And this is where it is all going wrong, here is the offending mug

Yesterday was a long day, 12 hours two different roles, so in an effort to stop my tea levels falling so dangerously low as to induce a coma, I legged it from one end of the site to the the other to replenish my tea mug and took my self off outside to a quiet corner of the car park, to sit in the evening sun, to drink my tea, eat my banana and restore a sense of homeostasis, a little oasis in a busy day; that was until I was clocked by security guard (small) he came striding (small) across the car park.

‘Is every thing OK?’ he asked looking a little concerned.

The problem is you see, when grasped firmly in the hand and from a distance, my tea mug looks for all the world, just like a can of Heineken beer, people think I have a bit of a drink problem.

The boss of bosses and security guards, large and small, now know that my real vice is tea and not beer (although I like beer as you know, but not in the same volume as tea) and are somewhat amused by my tea mug; but as for what the rest of my colleagues think, but don’t say, I’m sure I will be the last to know.

Right time for a nice cup of tea and a sit down

Little Weed

Question. When is a weed not a weed?

Answer. When it is feast.

This bee was carrying so much pollen I was starting to wonder if it would mange to get airborne and make it back to the hive.

The dandelion, Taraxacum officinale; as a child I used to spend hours in the fields collecting these flower heads, by the bucket full for my Dad, who used to make dandelion wine from them, just taking that photo has wafted back in time, to the smell of them being boiled up in a steamy kitchen and gluup, gluup noise of the air locks on the demijohns as it brewed.

nezza has a lovely photograph of a dandelion ‘clock’ on her Flickr site

A spoon full of sugar

Just a spoon full of sugar may make the medicine go down, but other aids to convalescence are less palatable.

Tom was ‘proper poorly’ after he got back from his school trip, he slept and slept for days, his Easter egg that was awaiting for his return remained unwrapped and uneaten (but it was circled regularly by the rest of us, but you can’t go nibbling on a the Easter egg of a sick child can you, I mean I wouldn’t stoop quite so low, would I?) Tom coughed and spluttered and ate nothing for nearly a week, the traditional ’sick room’ drink of Lucozade was rejected as was the trendier Lucozade Sports drink, nothing would tempt him

We went through days of ‘If your not better tomorrow, your going to the Dr’s.’ But the next day dawned and he seemed a bit better, but then only for a few hours later, he was rough again, or fast asleep; by which time all the days appointments at the doctors surgery had been bagged (in fairness to the surgery, if I had pressed the point he could have had an emergency appointment, but it wasn’t that he was getting worse, just not any better.) In the end I got a telephone consultation and they asked me to take him in to see a doctor, a chest infection was diagnosed and antibiotics prescribed, this worked a treat, it was not the taking of the medication that worked, but the thought of taking it, Tom was not impressed at the idea and he started to recovery quickly. In truth I think the infection had run its course and he was about to get better anyway; the antibiotics remain in the fridge untouched.

The upshot of Tom being ill is that he has lost weight, he was as skinny as a latt to start with, there is even less of him now, he needs feeding up. He’s working on it, The Easter egg is now consumed, along with a large tin of chocolate chip muffins he’s a boy on a mission; my mum tells me this is what he needs; Virol a preparation bone marrow ‘fat food’ for children and invalids.

I don’t fancy it myself nor does Tom, talking with a friend about how to feed Tom up, he told us as a kid (circa 1960’s) his mum used to ‘feed him up’ by making him drink milk into which was beaten a raw egg and fish roe. It obviously worked as my friend has grown up big and strong, not only that he can stomach absolutely anything. Kids today they don’t know how lucky they are.

Mad House

I have spent some time today searching for my glasses, I could remember I brought them in from the car on Saturday, when I got back from shopping, but I couldn’t find them, not until I  was preparing some lunch and there they were; in the fridge, in the bag with a pound and a half of traditional sausages and a pound of home cured bacon. They have misted up now.

‘Thing one’ made a break for freedom this morning, and who could blame her, it’s a mad house;

she fluttered up into the cab of the delivery drivers van, he looked a little bemused, she looked some what thwarted when I retrieved her. I told Joe what she had done , ‘Oh no she didn’t do a poo, did she?’ no thank goodness,that would have cost us a dozen eggs , by way of an apology.

She isn’t the first of our pets to plan a great escape, Boo the old cat, had to be brought back home by the telephone engineer who had been working at the house, he  found her in the back of his van when he got back to the telephone exchange, at the other side of town.

Blowing in the wind

Why, oh why, is there so much litter, stuck to every tree and branch and barbed wire fence

The litter lying and flying about the place seems worse than ever this year, in particular, polythene bags and plastic wrappers

Every barbed wire fence, (this is an ever so ethical Co-operative Society carrier bag.)

every thorn bush, seems to have tatters of poly bags attached. Along with the domestic waste is the black wrappers from the bails of silage used as winter fodder for the cattle,

I am not sure if the reason it ’seems’ worse this year is to do with the fact the local council has changed the way it operates kerb side refuse collections, so people put out a lot recyclable items out for collection, but in plastic carrier bags, or if it has been like this for a long time and it only now I am out and about with the camera and actively looking at the landscape, that I am noticing it more.

Maybe it would be more constructive, rather than moaning about it, just to start collecting it, this is what Joe wants to do, he fancy’s getting hold of his Grandmas ‘long reach grabber things’ and setting off on a mission. I am not sure his Grandma, would want to give them up for such a task, seeing as she usually uses them to reach cereal packets off the top shelf in the pantry, we will have to ask.

Messy Eater

I found a pot of creme fraiche, well past its use by date (even by my standards and they are fairly relaxed on such matters) in the back of the fridge I took it out for the hens (little food is wasted around here.)

Bella was ahead of the flock, and so got stuck in before the others arrived and she would have to share,

She got in a right old mess, as did everything else within range, when she sneezed, having got the stuff up her ‘nose’.