Doing the best that I can, at writing, running and living
It was like an unintended rock-paper-scissors game. Nick put his arm out and I raised my palm to shake his … fist bump. Then he opened up his hand, and I closed mine. A complete failure of communication on my part. But I hope he forgave me, as I was desperately trying to squeeze some… Continue reading Wirral Summer Trail Series
I think all long runs would benefit by being carved up by a cup of tea and a chat. Having been introduced to this most civilised of practises by John, my occasional running buddy, I’ve found the long run, especially the first long run in a few weeks, less daunting by making this addition. I… Continue reading Back In The Game – With A Tea Break
For a few seconds there our coach compatriot had us fooled at the breakfast table. ‘I’m celebrating you know,’ he said. ‘Are you?’, we chorused. ‘Firstly, because Trump sacked Vance.’ ‘Has he?’ High pitched shock. ‘Secondly, because he’s resigned.’ ‘Has he?’ The pitch is almost at dog-calling level. ‘You do know what day it is,… Continue reading North Cyprus – Part Three
North Cyprus covers, roughly, the top third of the country. And given that it is squat and wide, you would normally be travelling across it between the east and the west. The northern edge is covered by the Kyrenia Mountain range, often called the Five-Finger Mountains after one of the central peaks that has five… Continue reading North Cyprus – Part Two
We are in Cyprus, taking a package tour of the Turkish northern part, although we did dip our toes in to the Greek part yesterday by crossing the Green Line in Nicosia for an hour or so. I don’t remember having done a package holiday before. It’s the kind of holiday where you get to… Continue reading North Cyprus – Part One
Sometimes, just sometimes, being bad at mental arithmetic can be a good thing. I was approaching the board bearing the number ‘11’ in large enough font for even the severely myopic, and I glanced down at my watch – 1:58, or something like that, as my eyes were a tad blurry from the salty beads… Continue reading Liverpool Half Marathon
I think I definitely put in some effort this morning because now I’m struggling to raise myself from my position of repose this afternoon. Race five in the Borders League series, was in sunny Capenhurst, in Cheshire. When I searched for the village on Google maps, it put a red boundary line around what looks… Continue reading HM Training – Week 8 of 9 (Borders Race)
Note to self: don’t eat a big plate of pasta two and a half hours before my track session. It had been a while since I’d done any track work, so I’d forgotten that there is a big difference in the stomach, between pootling along and pumping my arms and legs. Next time, I’ll try… Continue reading Track Training
What do two women in their fifties who are steadily grinding their way through the ten-mile training run on a Sunday morning talk about? Needing to find a suitable spot for another wild wee (naturally); the orange dictator (invariably); Lord Lever’s philanthropic concerns (we were in that locality); whether we’ve got enough suncream on (it… Continue reading HM Training – Week 7 of 9
I attempted a handicap run with the club last night for the first time in ages. The run is supposed to work like this: based on previous attempts or your own knowledge of your pace, you work out how long it will take you to run the five or seven-mile handicap routes. the slower runners… Continue reading HM Training – Weeks 5 and 6 of 9
theleadlesspencil 