And so it came to pass that another 6ft Track entry day came and went with incident. Not that I saw it mind you. I just have it on reliable authority (from the ‘masses’) that the system was loaded/unfair/broken/fixed(?) or plain wrong.
For the second such year, I experienced no difficulties. Using my steam driven laptop I opened the registration page at 8:55 DST and waited. At 9:00 am I hit refresh and, as expected, was met with a message telling me the system was very busy simultaneously displaying a counter which counted down from 15 to 0 in as many seconds. I let it count down once and was presented with the same screen. Bugger this.
I let it count down three seconds this time then refreshed, repeating the process about half a dozen times before getting the login screen. I entered my e-mail address as instructed, then clicked on the continue button which went to the countdown page again which I, again, refreshed and voila, I entered my information and registered.
Registration e-mail arrived in my inbox at 9:09.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it common for a website to display a ‘busy notice’ when it’s ‘busy’? Weren’t we all expecting it to be busy? Doesn’t this happen when people try booking cheap flights or get the best deals on e-Bay or queue up at the January Sales in London or New York?
I nearly missed out the year before as I was complacent with the entry opening at midnight. I was actually standing by the PC at the time and thought to myself that I’d enter the following morning, even mentioning it to Donna. It was only when I got a phone call from a friend later the following morning that I’d better get on the waitlist quickly if I could as it had filled up. At that point I thought I’d missed out and was surprised when, in the new year, I got an entry offer.
My point is, I had accepted that I’d missed out, that was that. I didn’t go e-mailing the race director or bemoan my ill-fate to the masses ... it was what it was.
Anyway, since then, the race director and his team has moved mountains to make the entry process as fair as possible to novices, veterans and those that should be guaranteed spots (as the RD has pointed out, Kilian Jornet – or for that matter Tim Cochrane, David Waugh or Mike Le Roux I would think - would never miss out on 6ft). Yet, there are still a contingent who think it’s that same race directors responsibility to ensure that people have the right internet connection/browser/hair colour/star sign/whatever to gain entry (none of which, by the way, have been proven to be contributing factors in individuals failure to gain entry).
I miss out on lots of things – two jobs this year for a start, each of which I’d trade, without too much thought, for my spot at 6ft next year.
I’m not trying to be smug here or anything, I just think some perspective is required.
Tuesday, 6 December 2011
Thursday, 24 November 2011
Rhys Llywelyn Davies
At 8:55 am, 11 years ago today, at the Royal Glamorgan Hospital, my son, Rhys, was born.
He is funny. He’s smart. Considerate, thoughtful and aware, even if it is sometimes on reflection. Sometimes, he is a royal, 11 year old pain in the arse, but mostly he is Rhys.
He has been an immense source of pride and affection since then and whenever I’ve been low, directionless or plain depressed, I only have to think of him and I smile. Sometimes I weep. He makes me stop and realise that things aren’t quite in the order or priority that I thought they were. Even with two grown up daughters, whom I see little of and hear from even less (largely due to my circumstances and actions and despite my mourning that loss I am yet to learn all the lessons I should have by now. I am only beginning to understand and am becoming acutely conscious of the expanse of his being.
At every turn there is a news item advising us of an abused child, a family hit by tragedy or community shell-shocked by huge loss. Such is the frequency of these events that they are no longer guaranteed to make the front page. Though sadly, tragedy that the Morecambe’s have endured is all too prominent. We are fortunate to have our son with us, yet we still fail to protect him as we should something so precious.
Love Dad
He is funny. He’s smart. Considerate, thoughtful and aware, even if it is sometimes on reflection. Sometimes, he is a royal, 11 year old pain in the arse, but mostly he is Rhys.
He has been an immense source of pride and affection since then and whenever I’ve been low, directionless or plain depressed, I only have to think of him and I smile. Sometimes I weep. He makes me stop and realise that things aren’t quite in the order or priority that I thought they were. Even with two grown up daughters, whom I see little of and hear from even less (largely due to my circumstances and actions and despite my mourning that loss I am yet to learn all the lessons I should have by now. I am only beginning to understand and am becoming acutely conscious of the expanse of his being.
At every turn there is a news item advising us of an abused child, a family hit by tragedy or community shell-shocked by huge loss. Such is the frequency of these events that they are no longer guaranteed to make the front page. Though sadly, tragedy that the Morecambe’s have endured is all too prominent. We are fortunate to have our son with us, yet we still fail to protect him as we should something so precious.
Through the last couple of years, while his mother and I have been dismantling the fabric of our life – one disassembling and the other putting away the pieces – he has been through the mill. At times he has been forgotten or, at the very least, too low in the order of things. Though he manages to remain enthusiastic about the things that he enjoys he takes it upon himself to protects the ‘grown-up’s’ from themselves at times. We have squandered part of his innocence – shame on us. Shame, shame.
Now, suddenly, he is 11 years old. I grieve for the greater part of his childhood thus far that has gone sometimes unnoticed and sometimes uncelebrated. It’s dawned on me that it will never be back for us to share again. No more, my son. It’s all about you.
Happy birthday ‘Young Man’
Wednesday, 16 November 2011
Bless me father ... for I have sinned
It’s been .... ooh .... a week (?) since my last confession.
The Diet
Well, to continue in the current vein, I have successfully navigated another 7 days with no meet. I was duped into the purchase of some very nice looking vegetable fried rice in the cafe at work, only to discover just in time that it had bacon bits. I am guilty of mistaking some chorizo sausage for sun dried tomatoes in a pasta dish I had after the Rainbow Beach Ultra on Sunday, but I was tired and, let’s face it, there’s very little meat in sausages!!
Over 2½ weeks I have dropped a steady 3 kg’s and am now sitting on 79. I can confidently say it’s not down to training as though I have maintained my streak, I have had very little intensity or distance other than the 45 km’s on Sunday, following which I did as I always do for a couple of days after a run: experienced an insatiable appetite for carbs. and sugars, succumbing to the demand for plenty of the former and a little of the latter.
I’m definitely feeling better for it too and my ‘habits’ seem to be a little ‘healthier’!
Rainbow Beach
Anyway, back to Rainbow Beach. When I first saw this race, I thought, “Ok, lovely part of the world, will be a beautiful run and all that, but just call it a marathon. I mean, 43 km’s is just an excuse to tick the ‘ultra box’. How wrong of me.
The race is a huge challenge over the distance and merits the tag and has the makings of bringing an imposing event onto the trail running map (hopefully now it’s back on there’ll be no more difficulty with permits).
My day was quite adventurous as it turned out. There were one or two teething problems with the event, namely the tide being a lot earlier than anticipated and a lot higher due to the full moon (as a CP volunteer said to me after my travails, “Maybe we should have come up yesterday morning to check the real high tide time”) but no real harm done.
After covering the first 18 km through some beautiful trail to the beach very sedately, my ‘comfortable’ 5 hour plans were scuppered by the ‘losing’ of my legs running along the beach to the lighthouse (the heavy sand as a result of the high tide just took it out of me, walking or what was loosely described as ‘running’).
The fantastic views up to and from the lighthouse lightened the mood (the colour of the ocean was spellbinding and just sucked you in). When I got back down the other side I had some misgivings and had no option but to go across the sandbar as I was already cut off from the main beach on the inlet, knowing I’d have to cross the inlet somewhere.
After a couple of km’s, I reached the inlet where the tide was rushing in at a furious rate. I decided to go for it and waded, tested, swam a little before realising it wasn’t on - It was well over my head and coming through quickly enough that I couldn't keep my footing. I was more concerned about Rhys’ camera getting buggered than anything else (admittedly, this feeling wasn't helped by the signage I saw at Inskip Point the night before warning me of the presence of estuarine crocodiles in the area - a salty on my arse would have severely hindered my already precarious chances of finishing!!).
I was fortunate in that a family on the other side were out enjoying the sunshine and he had a kayak on his roof. Anyway, the guy yelled over to me that he'd come get me and so it passed. I got a kayak ride across and, by the time I made it across the rest of the sand bar and doubled back to the checkpoint, I had added about 3 km to the trip. It was only about 12 km from there I think but it felt like a long way home. Possibly could have been 5½ hours instead of the trudge that my morning became but there you go (6:28!)
One thing though, Donna arrived at the finish expecting me to be there. She asked Ian Javes if there was any word about anyone’s whereabouts and he simply said, I’m sure with sneaky grin and a twinkle in his eye,
"This course isn’t as easy as they all seem to think!”
I put this to Donna yesterday and she confirmed – she was sure he looked pleased with himself ... good for him!
To cap off a sincerely enjoyable weekend, we had a full blow out in a fully laden 4x4 at 110 km/hour on the way home ... at least I got to lied down in the grass while digging the jack under the car!
The Diet
Well, to continue in the current vein, I have successfully navigated another 7 days with no meet. I was duped into the purchase of some very nice looking vegetable fried rice in the cafe at work, only to discover just in time that it had bacon bits. I am guilty of mistaking some chorizo sausage for sun dried tomatoes in a pasta dish I had after the Rainbow Beach Ultra on Sunday, but I was tired and, let’s face it, there’s very little meat in sausages!!
Over 2½ weeks I have dropped a steady 3 kg’s and am now sitting on 79. I can confidently say it’s not down to training as though I have maintained my streak, I have had very little intensity or distance other than the 45 km’s on Sunday, following which I did as I always do for a couple of days after a run: experienced an insatiable appetite for carbs. and sugars, succumbing to the demand for plenty of the former and a little of the latter.
I’m definitely feeling better for it too and my ‘habits’ seem to be a little ‘healthier’!
Rainbow Beach
Anyway, back to Rainbow Beach. When I first saw this race, I thought, “Ok, lovely part of the world, will be a beautiful run and all that, but just call it a marathon. I mean, 43 km’s is just an excuse to tick the ‘ultra box’. How wrong of me.
The race is a huge challenge over the distance and merits the tag and has the makings of bringing an imposing event onto the trail running map (hopefully now it’s back on there’ll be no more difficulty with permits).
My day was quite adventurous as it turned out. There were one or two teething problems with the event, namely the tide being a lot earlier than anticipated and a lot higher due to the full moon (as a CP volunteer said to me after my travails, “Maybe we should have come up yesterday morning to check the real high tide time”) but no real harm done.
After covering the first 18 km through some beautiful trail to the beach very sedately, my ‘comfortable’ 5 hour plans were scuppered by the ‘losing’ of my legs running along the beach to the lighthouse (the heavy sand as a result of the high tide just took it out of me, walking or what was loosely described as ‘running’).
The fantastic views up to and from the lighthouse lightened the mood (the colour of the ocean was spellbinding and just sucked you in). When I got back down the other side I had some misgivings and had no option but to go across the sandbar as I was already cut off from the main beach on the inlet, knowing I’d have to cross the inlet somewhere.
After a couple of km’s, I reached the inlet where the tide was rushing in at a furious rate. I decided to go for it and waded, tested, swam a little before realising it wasn’t on - It was well over my head and coming through quickly enough that I couldn't keep my footing. I was more concerned about Rhys’ camera getting buggered than anything else (admittedly, this feeling wasn't helped by the signage I saw at Inskip Point the night before warning me of the presence of estuarine crocodiles in the area - a salty on my arse would have severely hindered my already precarious chances of finishing!!).
I was fortunate in that a family on the other side were out enjoying the sunshine and he had a kayak on his roof. Anyway, the guy yelled over to me that he'd come get me and so it passed. I got a kayak ride across and, by the time I made it across the rest of the sand bar and doubled back to the checkpoint, I had added about 3 km to the trip. It was only about 12 km from there I think but it felt like a long way home. Possibly could have been 5½ hours instead of the trudge that my morning became but there you go (6:28!)
One thing though, Donna arrived at the finish expecting me to be there. She asked Ian Javes if there was any word about anyone’s whereabouts and he simply said, I’m sure with sneaky grin and a twinkle in his eye,
"This course isn’t as easy as they all seem to think!”
I put this to Donna yesterday and she confirmed – she was sure he looked pleased with himself ... good for him!
To cap off a sincerely enjoyable weekend, we had a full blow out in a fully laden 4x4 at 110 km/hour on the way home ... at least I got to lied down in the grass while digging the jack under the car!
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
It's not the means, it's the end ... result that is.
Ok, first things first, contrary to my post of 28th, I’ve ignored one of my foibles and eaten a veggie burger. If I call it a patty (which describes the shape and consistency as opposed to the content) then I think I can get away with it. Donna and the kids were getting dinner from Hungry Jack’s and I was coerced, a little. Anyway, it was nice.
There, I’ve done it ... feels so good to get it off my chest!
Oh yeah, almost forgot. I accidentally ate a couple of pieces of ham from the fridge the other day. I was just looking for something to nibble on and the last pieces were there so I had them. Nice too. Just a slip up.
Here’s the low down: I’ve stopped eating meat, not because of my moral views on the methods we use to ‘care for’ and slaughter our livestock (though it’s a concern), but because of the scale on which we produce it at as much as any moral issue I have with its consumption. Take a look at these figures for Australia for the month of September, 2011:
Not so bad you may think, but that's 0.14 of a beast for each of the population (½ of that number being lamb). This includes infants, the elderly and, let's not forget, vegetarians, vegans and those of that ilk. What's missing? Chickens!
Don't take my word for it, these figures come straight from the Australian Bureau of Statistics.
You should check out the figures for civilised nations such as the UK and the USA in particular (182 animals per capita per year), they're frightening.
The real damage, apart from the health care burden (as for the individual who's dumb enough to allow themselves to get 50+ kg's overweight I have no sympathy, though I do have admiration for those for whom the penny drops and they make efforts to turn it around), is done to the environment - and it's not just the methan (which is more damaging than on a global scale than global vehicular emissions).
Our planet cannot support the level of mass production that the meat industry engages in. It's not about vegetarianism it's about what's natural. There's plenty of information out there, go see for yourself ... or ask.
It's a cliché I know, but in a world of such excess, how the fuck are there so many starving?
There, I’ve done it ... feels so good to get it off my chest!
Oh yeah, almost forgot. I accidentally ate a couple of pieces of ham from the fridge the other day. I was just looking for something to nibble on and the last pieces were there so I had them. Nice too. Just a slip up.
Here’s the low down: I’ve stopped eating meat, not because of my moral views on the methods we use to ‘care for’ and slaughter our livestock (though it’s a concern), but because of the scale on which we produce it at as much as any moral issue I have with its consumption. Take a look at these figures for Australia for the month of September, 2011:
Current Population (November 9th 2011): 22,757,314 | ||||
| Cattle(a) | 620,057 | 0.03 | ||
| Calves | 91,710 | 0.004 | ||
| Sheep | 465,725 | 0.02 | ||
| Lambs | 1,562,921 | 0.07 | ||
| Pigs | 396,152 | 0.02 | ||
| 3,136,565 | 0.14 | |||
| (a) Excludes calves | ||||
Not so bad you may think, but that's 0.14 of a beast for each of the population (½ of that number being lamb). This includes infants, the elderly and, let's not forget, vegetarians, vegans and those of that ilk. What's missing? Chickens!
Don't take my word for it, these figures come straight from the Australian Bureau of Statistics.
You should check out the figures for civilised nations such as the UK and the USA in particular (182 animals per capita per year), they're frightening.
The real damage, apart from the health care burden (as for the individual who's dumb enough to allow themselves to get 50+ kg's overweight I have no sympathy, though I do have admiration for those for whom the penny drops and they make efforts to turn it around), is done to the environment - and it's not just the methan (which is more damaging than on a global scale than global vehicular emissions).
Our planet cannot support the level of mass production that the meat industry engages in. It's not about vegetarianism it's about what's natural. There's plenty of information out there, go see for yourself ... or ask.
It's a cliché I know, but in a world of such excess, how the fuck are there so many starving?
- 7,001,760,663 current total world population
- 916,405,551 undernourished people in the world right now
- 1,548,527,792 overweight people in the world right now
- 516,175,931 obese people in the world right now
- 19,261 people who have died of hunger today
- 9,578,142 people who have already died of hunger this year
Friday, 4 November 2011
Occupy this!
So they got to stay in St Georges’ square, inappropriately next to the war memorial, for 18 days. They were moved on and told they could camp in the Roma St Parklands. Not good enough. I mean, no news in hanging around where you’re allowed to is there.
I lost what little interest I had when I realized that it's largely a group of people complaining about an issue without suggesting a solution. Make your stand, make yourself be heard, but if it means just making a nuisance of yourself for those having to traipse through your ‘occupation’ on the way to work and then leaving the location far from pristine, don’t fucking bother.
If they had a point, it’s long been lost among the rubbish that they’ve left behind, the clearing of which the tax/rate payer, not the corporate machine, is footing the bill for.
From being a group of well meaning, if misguided, individuals, they’ve morphed into the usual anti-establishment espousing, habitual trouble making mob. What else would you do between riots?
How ironic that in some major cities, the ‘Occupy’ locations have drawn the local homeless as they now have somewhere to stay with sanction. At least some good is coming from it, if only on a temporary basis.
I lost what little interest I had when I realized that it's largely a group of people complaining about an issue without suggesting a solution. Make your stand, make yourself be heard, but if it means just making a nuisance of yourself for those having to traipse through your ‘occupation’ on the way to work and then leaving the location far from pristine, don’t fucking bother.
If they had a point, it’s long been lost among the rubbish that they’ve left behind, the clearing of which the tax/rate payer, not the corporate machine, is footing the bill for.
From being a group of well meaning, if misguided, individuals, they’ve morphed into the usual anti-establishment espousing, habitual trouble making mob. What else would you do between riots?
How ironic that in some major cities, the ‘Occupy’ locations have drawn the local homeless as they now have somewhere to stay with sanction. At least some good is coming from it, if only on a temporary basis.
Friday, 28 October 2011
Food!
Have decided to adopt vegetarianism or, to be more precise (and lenient), pescetarianism. Partially down to animal welfare concerns but mostly for health. There is much evidence (both researched and anecdotal) to support its case and the lack thereof, but I’m convinced.
You won’t see me eating veggie burgers or ‘Fakon’ as I don’t think not eating meat is about substituting it. I’ve always scorned vegetarians who follow that trend (I mean, if you want a sausage, have a sausage for goodness sake) so it would be hypocritical of me to do so ... and have you tasted that shit?!
You also won’t see me actively promoting its cause over that of the non-believers either, each to his own as far as I’m concerned as long as it doesn’t impact me.
Other stuff
Had another decent run out in the bush on Wednesday, mapping a new course for Wild Horse which is now hopefully finalised and I've submitted maps to Forest Plantations Queensland (FPQ) for approval. With a little luck there’ll be no hassles.
Next up, Rainbow Beach on November 13th. Looks like being a tough but scenic event. Sadly, it doesn't look like getting the support that will warrant its continuation. Shame. Either way, it should set me up for a couple of hard weeks followed by a good taper into Kurrawa to Duranbah and also give us something to do with the kids for the weekend.
You won’t see me eating veggie burgers or ‘Fakon’ as I don’t think not eating meat is about substituting it. I’ve always scorned vegetarians who follow that trend (I mean, if you want a sausage, have a sausage for goodness sake) so it would be hypocritical of me to do so ... and have you tasted that shit?!
You also won’t see me actively promoting its cause over that of the non-believers either, each to his own as far as I’m concerned as long as it doesn’t impact me.
Other stuff
Had another decent run out in the bush on Wednesday, mapping a new course for Wild Horse which is now hopefully finalised and I've submitted maps to Forest Plantations Queensland (FPQ) for approval. With a little luck there’ll be no hassles.
Next up, Rainbow Beach on November 13th. Looks like being a tough but scenic event. Sadly, it doesn't look like getting the support that will warrant its continuation. Shame. Either way, it should set me up for a couple of hard weeks followed by a good taper into Kurrawa to Duranbah and also give us something to do with the kids for the weekend.
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
All over for another four years ...
Well, now that the excitement (disappointment, despair?) of the World Cup is over, probably time to get back to training properly.
I was pretty beat up after the Bribie Beach marathon – events having caught up with me I think. I’ve had a subsequent three weeks of low km’s with a few shorter, intense workouts thrown in, culminating in a very chilled weekend away in Byron Bay. I’ve still managed to get out every day but only in a token manner so it’s now time to switch on.
Ran a PB over a 13 km loop through the bush yesterday, though I have only ever ran it twice before and the last time was around three years ago so it’s no real guide but it was a strong run at 1:02:30
I’m trying to get my head around running ‘long’ during the week. Not pointless ultra runner long mind you (I think I’ve proven that you don’t need 150 km weeks to run a good hundred miler, nor more than a few 100 km weeks for that matter), but decent 20 km runs at decent tempo.
Focus now is to get quick again and get a couple more base building cycles in from the beginning of 2012 and hit that 3 hour mark at the Gold Coast next July. Finishing this streak will help as my training will become more structured ... 99 days to go (not including this evening’s effort which the blog has already counted).
Still have a little niggle with my hip :O(
I was pretty beat up after the Bribie Beach marathon – events having caught up with me I think. I’ve had a subsequent three weeks of low km’s with a few shorter, intense workouts thrown in, culminating in a very chilled weekend away in Byron Bay. I’ve still managed to get out every day but only in a token manner so it’s now time to switch on.
Ran a PB over a 13 km loop through the bush yesterday, though I have only ever ran it twice before and the last time was around three years ago so it’s no real guide but it was a strong run at 1:02:30
I’m trying to get my head around running ‘long’ during the week. Not pointless ultra runner long mind you (I think I’ve proven that you don’t need 150 km weeks to run a good hundred miler, nor more than a few 100 km weeks for that matter), but decent 20 km runs at decent tempo.
Focus now is to get quick again and get a couple more base building cycles in from the beginning of 2012 and hit that 3 hour mark at the Gold Coast next July. Finishing this streak will help as my training will become more structured ... 99 days to go (not including this evening’s effort which the blog has already counted).
Still have a little niggle with my hip :O(
Friday, 14 October 2011
Dere 'mlaen Cymry!!
Still heavy legged and lacking enthusiasm. Probably the 100 miler at Glasshouse (only 5 weeks ago but seems a lifetime past) catching up with me as well as the 40 km with Glen backed up by the marathon at Bribie.
On the other hand, it may be the 256 days straight training I’ve done!!
More of a worry is the soreness in my hip. What was just a niggle (brought about by favouring my right side to protect the now infamous ‘toe injury’) seems now to be a hindrance. I’ve noticed that I’m also sitting ‘wonkily’ at my desk.
Not sure what to do about it yet. Probably just keep training and take it easy for a while.
Maybe ...
Anyway, more importantly, Wales have somehow managed to make it to the World Cup semi-finals and will hopefully take out France on Saturday and reach the first finals. Hopefully ...
On the other hand, it may be the 256 days straight training I’ve done!!
More of a worry is the soreness in my hip. What was just a niggle (brought about by favouring my right side to protect the now infamous ‘toe injury’) seems now to be a hindrance. I’ve noticed that I’m also sitting ‘wonkily’ at my desk.
Not sure what to do about it yet. Probably just keep training and take it easy for a while.
Maybe ...
Anyway, more importantly, Wales have somehow managed to make it to the World Cup semi-finals and will hopefully take out France on Saturday and reach the first finals. Hopefully ...
Funniest moment of the week? Catching a picture of Barry John wearing his 'C'mon Wales' campaign wristband. Jesus he's a disgrace. He's so fat his podgy little hands can barely get through the wristband ... and it's elasitcated!
Thursday, 6 October 2011
RIP Steve Jobs
It’s never an easy week after a marathon, any marathon, and this has been no exception.
I went for a light 5 km on Monday night and pushed hard for 8 km at lunchtime on Tuesday. After some repeats with Donna last night I was so heavy legged I nearly bailed this lunchtime. Instead, another 8 km along Nudgee Golf Course at a very sedate and sore 5½ minutes per km.
This of course, is all put into perspective by the sad passing of Steve Jobs. What’s even ‘sadder’ is the stupid bimbo telling one of our customers about it over the phone today,
“You know? The guy who invented the iPhone?”
On another note, why the f@ck is it that people take ‘disposable’ to mean ‘chuck it anywhere you like on the side of the road’?!! Out running at lunchtime I passed at least 4 soiled nappies that had been bound (none too well) and thrown from passing cars.
People ... the scourge of what was our society.
I went for a light 5 km on Monday night and pushed hard for 8 km at lunchtime on Tuesday. After some repeats with Donna last night I was so heavy legged I nearly bailed this lunchtime. Instead, another 8 km along Nudgee Golf Course at a very sedate and sore 5½ minutes per km.
This of course, is all put into perspective by the sad passing of Steve Jobs. What’s even ‘sadder’ is the stupid bimbo telling one of our customers about it over the phone today,
“You know? The guy who invented the iPhone?”
On another note, why the f@ck is it that people take ‘disposable’ to mean ‘chuck it anywhere you like on the side of the road’?!! Out running at lunchtime I passed at least 4 soiled nappies that had been bound (none too well) and thrown from passing cars.
People ... the scourge of what was our society.
Sunday, 2 October 2011
Bribie ...
Very different sort of marathon this.
No real expectations here other than I should finish under 3 hours. For the first time since I can remember, I took part in an event with a regular stopwatch so it was a little different having to actually work out splits for myself.
I didn't expect to be able to finish without some walking with Glasshouse only 3 weeks ago and 40 km in my legs from Glen's adventure on Monday, but I figured I'd go decently until the 30 km mark. That's pretty much how it went. Got to the turn well in about 1:50 and made my way back. There was a little carnage on display from the longer 46 km 'ultra' but other than that, nothing special.
I was looking for the 10½ km (outward) marker and when I found it, I had about 2:48 on the clock but was starting to fade. This marker coincided with the surf meeting some soft sand which really put the mockers on things. After a about 5 km I was back on an firm surface with a decent camber and, having had the last of any strngth sapped from my legs by the softer stuff, the last stretch was a bit of a trudge.
When I finished (in an acceptable at this point 4:13, my legs were shot to the point where I couldn't be bothered to walk the 100 metres back to the beach to have a swim (which had been my plan as I was on my death march home).
All good, very satisfying to be spent. Can't remember the last time my legs were like this.
No real expectations here other than I should finish under 3 hours. For the first time since I can remember, I took part in an event with a regular stopwatch so it was a little different having to actually work out splits for myself.
I didn't expect to be able to finish without some walking with Glasshouse only 3 weeks ago and 40 km in my legs from Glen's adventure on Monday, but I figured I'd go decently until the 30 km mark. That's pretty much how it went. Got to the turn well in about 1:50 and made my way back. There was a little carnage on display from the longer 46 km 'ultra' but other than that, nothing special.
I was looking for the 10½ km (outward) marker and when I found it, I had about 2:48 on the clock but was starting to fade. This marker coincided with the surf meeting some soft sand which really put the mockers on things. After a about 5 km I was back on an firm surface with a decent camber and, having had the last of any strngth sapped from my legs by the softer stuff, the last stretch was a bit of a trudge.
When I finished (in an acceptable at this point 4:13, my legs were shot to the point where I couldn't be bothered to walk the 100 metres back to the beach to have a swim (which had been my plan as I was on my death march home).
All good, very satisfying to be spent. Can't remember the last time my legs were like this.
Friday, 30 September 2011
My job and other hobbies ... well ... hobby.
It seems these days, you’re never doing enough. My contract is up for extension and already ‘the management’ (same IQ as Hale and Pace only not as smartly dressed) is on the defensive offence. I handle more workload, bite my tongue more than I should, take unpaid leave and have not has a single sick day. Yet, there are things I need to address.
How lucky am I that despite these flaws, they (the management) have been kind hearted enough to allow me to stay 5 months beyond my initial contract (because I needed them) and are now wanting to extend it a further 4 months to give me the opportunity to better myself.
I’m so lucky to have the opportunity. I think I’ll go for a run.
- 242 consecutive days
- 400 km for the month (hasn’t happened since 2008!)
- No apparent injuries though the toe thing is always going to have to be looked after unless I have it cut.
Thursday, 29 September 2011
Brisbane to Mooloolaba - tales of a daft bugger with a big heart.
On Monday, September 26th, I was privileged to be a part of Glen Hendry’s 100 km run from Mooloolaba to Brisbane (finishing at the Southbank Piazza).
Glen has been talked about undertaking a solo run for charity since I’ve known him (about 4½ years). First it was Toowoomba to Brisbane, then Gympie to Brisbane but the logistics were difficult. Then, without warning on September 20th, I, along with many others, received an e-mail from Glen with a link to the event blog and the charity page – it would take place on the 26th, less than a week away.
Glen’s like only one other person I know. He did all this for others. People he didn’t know. He did this on top of his regular ‘Superhero’ visits to the local children’s hospital (where he and his mates dress up as superheros and generally make kids happy!). He doesn’t get to do the training that some of us do, he’s not like me, he’s too selfless. It’s never about Glen.
Long story short, he just got on with it. I joined him at the 60 km mark and ran the 40 km from Burpengary to Southbank. With 27 km to go, we were joined by Matthew ‘Beer Tits’ Venamore (the furthest run he’s ever undertaken I believe) and then David Whyte from about 10 km out.
We arrived at Southbank to his family and my girlfriend Donna (which was great for me), his crew and a few others. Glen finished, in typical Glen fashion, totally smashed in around 14:14 raising over $2000 for the Deaf & Blind Children Society.
The point of this entry? I’ve never ran anything for anyone else but me. Sure, I’ve paced a few marathons and helped some people reach some goals, but they’re usually an opportunity to take part in an event at no cost while getting a sense of achievement other than a PB – not to dismiss the amazing feeling you get leading a group across the line in their goal time.
Proud to be your mate, mate.
Footnote: it seems that 100 km isn't enough these days. I posted details of this event on Cool Running, under both local Queensland events and the ultra running thread. Not one single comment of encouragement, let alone a donation for the charity. Obviously, unless you're running around Australia like Ron Grant or Pole to Pole (as Pat Farmer is currently doing) then 100km is a bit, 'so what?'
I'm not really a runner myself, just someone who has endurance and can put a good race together on occasion. I'll never refer to myself as an ultra runner, sometimes I'd be simply ashamed to.
Glen has been talked about undertaking a solo run for charity since I’ve known him (about 4½ years). First it was Toowoomba to Brisbane, then Gympie to Brisbane but the logistics were difficult. Then, without warning on September 20th, I, along with many others, received an e-mail from Glen with a link to the event blog and the charity page – it would take place on the 26th, less than a week away.
Glen’s like only one other person I know. He did all this for others. People he didn’t know. He did this on top of his regular ‘Superhero’ visits to the local children’s hospital (where he and his mates dress up as superheros and generally make kids happy!). He doesn’t get to do the training that some of us do, he’s not like me, he’s too selfless. It’s never about Glen.
Long story short, he just got on with it. I joined him at the 60 km mark and ran the 40 km from Burpengary to Southbank. With 27 km to go, we were joined by Matthew ‘Beer Tits’ Venamore (the furthest run he’s ever undertaken I believe) and then David Whyte from about 10 km out.We arrived at Southbank to his family and my girlfriend Donna (which was great for me), his crew and a few others. Glen finished, in typical Glen fashion, totally smashed in around 14:14 raising over $2000 for the Deaf & Blind Children Society.
The point of this entry? I’ve never ran anything for anyone else but me. Sure, I’ve paced a few marathons and helped some people reach some goals, but they’re usually an opportunity to take part in an event at no cost while getting a sense of achievement other than a PB – not to dismiss the amazing feeling you get leading a group across the line in their goal time.
Proud to be your mate, mate.
Footnote: it seems that 100 km isn't enough these days. I posted details of this event on Cool Running, under both local Queensland events and the ultra running thread. Not one single comment of encouragement, let alone a donation for the charity. Obviously, unless you're running around Australia like Ron Grant or Pole to Pole (as Pat Farmer is currently doing) then 100km is a bit, 'so what?'
I'm not really a runner myself, just someone who has endurance and can put a good race together on occasion. I'll never refer to myself as an ultra runner, sometimes I'd be simply ashamed to.
Wednesday, 28 September 2011
Ladies and gentleman ... Johnny Farnham!!!
Just one more comeback.
Ok. I’ve gathered my thoughts and am determined to make one last ditch effort to run this blog in the manner in which I originally intended.
My recent run in the Glasshouse 100 and my good friend Glen’s run on Monday for no other reasons than the fact that he could do some good for others (in this case, deaf children) has humbled me a little and spurred me into action.
Well, maybe not action so much as a little less inaction.
The 100 mile race a couple of weeks ago (September 10th) was a real watershed. Having run it twice in reasonable fashion (2008 & 2009), 2010 found me reduced to a walk for 135 km’s of the eventual 137 km. It exhausted and completely demoralised me. Along with making me realise that my injury (plantar plate tear) was simply not going to ‘go away’ it set me on a spiral of self loathing and depression that would see me spend the next five months drinking too much, gaining 11 kg’s (22 lb’s), training not at all and generally totally dissatisfied with my existence (for that’s what it was), simply waiting for it to end.
With nothing but the surgeon’s knife to look forward to (and no means to afford it), things were looking bleak. I embarked on a little but frequent training plan with a view of promoting a genuine active recovery.
Long story short, having lost 10 kg’s (thanks Donna), gained a beard and a lot of hair, I finished the GH100 in 16th place from a record number of starters which saw a 43% drop our rate (mostly by DNF) with a PB of nearly 1½ hours – 21:41.
I was fit and hairy (looking not unlike a gay, colour coordinated sasquatch) but I’d made it in a manner beyond expectations. I couldn't have done any of it - the race or the preparation leading into it - without Donna, my partner, love and best friend.
Ok. I’ve gathered my thoughts and am determined to make one last ditch effort to run this blog in the manner in which I originally intended.
My recent run in the Glasshouse 100 and my good friend Glen’s run on Monday for no other reasons than the fact that he could do some good for others (in this case, deaf children) has humbled me a little and spurred me into action.
Well, maybe not action so much as a little less inaction.
The 100 mile race a couple of weeks ago (September 10th) was a real watershed. Having run it twice in reasonable fashion (2008 & 2009), 2010 found me reduced to a walk for 135 km’s of the eventual 137 km. It exhausted and completely demoralised me. Along with making me realise that my injury (plantar plate tear) was simply not going to ‘go away’ it set me on a spiral of self loathing and depression that would see me spend the next five months drinking too much, gaining 11 kg’s (22 lb’s), training not at all and generally totally dissatisfied with my existence (for that’s what it was), simply waiting for it to end.
With nothing but the surgeon’s knife to look forward to (and no means to afford it), things were looking bleak. I embarked on a little but frequent training plan with a view of promoting a genuine active recovery.Long story short, having lost 10 kg’s (thanks Donna), gained a beard and a lot of hair, I finished the GH100 in 16th place from a record number of starters which saw a 43% drop our rate (mostly by DNF) with a PB of nearly 1½ hours – 21:41.
I was fit and hairy (looking not unlike a gay, colour coordinated sasquatch) but I’d made it in a manner beyond expectations. I couldn't have done any of it - the race or the preparation leading into it - without Donna, my partner, love and best friend.
Two weeks later, I accompanied a friend, Glen Hendry, for the last 40 km of a 100 km run he had undertaken, from Mooloolaba to Brisbane, to raise funds for deaf children.
After a long time of feeling sorry for myself, not being able to do the things I, me, wanted to do, watching Glen give of himself so selflessly humbled me. But I’ve turned the corner/made it through the crossroads/found my way out of the mire or simply dug myself out of a rut.
After a long time of feeling sorry for myself, not being able to do the things I, me, wanted to do, watching Glen give of himself so selflessly humbled me. But I’ve turned the corner/made it through the crossroads/found my way out of the mire or simply dug myself out of a rut.
Monday, 22 August 2011
Let's start again ... again.
Ok, as a diarised account of my day to day goings on, this obviously doesn’t work. I’ve tried, repeatedly to get into it but just can’t commit.
So, here I am, wondering what the f*ck to do with it. Should I leave it here languishing in the ether, meaning nothing to anyone? Or maybe just delete it and be done with it? The problem is I need a forum in which to express myself. To artistically articulate accounts of my thoughts and deeds along with some other crap, and Facebook just doesn’t cut it.
So, I guess before you decide where you’re going, you have to have some idea where you are. No, really you do. If I hear one more hippy, ultra trail-runner type comment relating to how insignificant I am in the scheme of things and the only important thing is that I’m at one with my surroundings and that I just need to keep ‘moving in the same direction as it man’, I’ll f*cking strangle someone!
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes,
"Where am I? Who am I? How did I come to be here? What is this thing called the world? How did I come into the world? Why was I not consulted? And If I am compelled to take part in it, where is the director? I want to see him."
One of my favourite quotes - by Søren Kierkegaard. A little known Danish Philosopher (that’s right, Danish!). Anyway, I think he asks some pretty searching questions.
In response, I’m at a crossroads. I can go right, left or straight ahead. The road behind is strewn with train-wreck so there’s definitely no going back to be had. I got here through luck more than design (not necessarily good luck) and, while I’m not sure what this thing called ‘the World’ is, I’m pretty sure I love most of it, though a lot of the residents leave something to be desired. I have no problems with not being consulted about the grand plan provided it makes sense and here is where it all falls down. Compelled to take part as I am, I have reservations about flying blind. I do want to speak to the man in charge and I don’t mean the dickhead in the big leather chair, I mean the little guy who cleans the toilets. The guy who vaguely resembles Morgan Freeman – he’s the one who makes sure everything’s ticking. He may not be responsible, but he sure as hell has an insight into what’s going on.
Anyway ...
In other news, I find myself in a running streak. For the uninitiated, visit United States Running Streak Association. My 203 days is pretty paltry by comparison (some of these guys have been running for well over 40 years) but it’s been hard fought and seems to have provided the solution to both my lack of motivation over the last two years or so along with my recovery from injury that I won’t mention.
Here I am, prepared (though not ready) to toe the line at my fourth Glasshouse 100 in less than three weeks. I don’t have nearly enough km’s under my belt though have some decent events completed and feel reasonably good. In any event, I’m 100% fitter/stronger than I was a year ago.
There’s a large and talented looking field, on paper at least, with some proven talent along with some new blood that fancy their chances. The former have nothing to prove and nothing to lose but their pride while the latter, well, the latter may well be advised to keep a low profile in the remaining two weeks lest they are forced to eat their words.
Some of these guys will be at an after dark training run on the 27th. No doubt I’ll see some form there.
Nothing for me now but two more long runs and lots of shorter (10km) harder training runs.
Thursday, 17 February 2011
Eddie Izzard
Do you know Eddie? Very funny guy. Heterosexual cross dresser and comedian. Last year, he decided to run forty odd marathons in forty days for charity, running around each country in the UK. He did this off no training and basically got 'fit' as he went. A right nutter but obviously driven.
I'd like to think I have some of his qualities and at the moment, I'm certainly running like him (though maybe without the heels)!
Decided, on the advice of a friend and a general feeling that it wasn't a good idea, not to enter Dusk 'til Dawn. I've now 'trained' for sixteen days straight and am getting glimpses of the way things ought to be, still a long road ahead though.
I may have no business to, but I'm beginning to look forward to The Six Foot Track Marathon. I've been there twice and on both occasions was injured coming in and last year in particular found me out. I'm under no illusions this year and will be just happy to get the finish under my belt. But maybe, just maybe ....
I'd like to think I have some of his qualities and at the moment, I'm certainly running like him (though maybe without the heels)!
Decided, on the advice of a friend and a general feeling that it wasn't a good idea, not to enter Dusk 'til Dawn. I've now 'trained' for sixteen days straight and am getting glimpses of the way things ought to be, still a long road ahead though.
I may have no business to, but I'm beginning to look forward to The Six Foot Track Marathon. I've been there twice and on both occasions was injured coming in and last year in particular found me out. I'm under no illusions this year and will be just happy to get the finish under my belt. But maybe, just maybe ....
Wednesday, 9 February 2011
I'm back!
Ok, it's been slow news really. I've finally got up off my arse and motivated myself to get back from the abyss. Easily 10 kg's overweight and seriously lacking in motivation, it's been hard, but here I am.
I’ve trained for eight consecutive days since February 1st. Nothing to set the world on fire but the last time I trained for two days consecutively was eighteen months ago so something’s happening.
Suffice to say though, that I’m running like Cliff Young … sadly, it’s an improvement!
My knee is a little sore, my foot is stiff and my toe injury is hanging around in the background but not really making its presence felt.
Almost within the first km of each run (the two longest runs I’ve had have been 10 km) I feel like I’m at the end of an ultra, where the easiest thing to do would be to stop and walk for a while. Have done it a few times too. I’m finding it very tough going and though I can see the tiniest light at the end of the tunnel I can’t help feeling that it’s a train coming toward me!
I’ll be entering Caboolture this weekend, my aim to walk/jog two marathons in the 12 hours. Six Foot Track is still on though I’ll be accompanying the sweeper while Donna and I enjoy a weekend in the Blue Mountains.
It seems a very long road and I don’t remember feeling this crap at running ever, even when I started seriously four years ago. At that point, I was over 15 kg’s heavier than I am now (105 kg’s then). It makes no sense.
I’ve realised in the last week that the biggest benefit I get from my achievements over those four years is that it doesn’t matter how hard things get, I have no excuse because I know it’s in me somewhere. Hopefully, someone will let me know exactly where before I’ve had enough!!
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