running – Scribble & Scran

That feeling – memento mori

M.C. Escher, Eye (seventh and definitive state), mezzotint, October 1946

I know for some of my readers, I’m just a boy and the logic inside me tells me to keep going your doing OK.

And in the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years. – Abraham Lincoln

Yesterday however I got a real sense of feeling that I’m getting old as I spent the day in the office. It didn’t help that someone in passing said to me you won’t have long to go now. He was talking about early retirement, part of the conversation of him turning 40 the day before, and then weeks earlier having his first child. The person next to him, his manager also within a few weeks of turning 40 and part of my managers leadership team. I looked around in those milliseconds where a response in jest is required. I was the oldest by a good 10 years, motivation shot to pieces and had just been reading about the latest organisation restructures. It included someone I went to lunch with a rough 25 years ago. They were moving on to take a break or so the rhetoric implied.

I responded with some glib remark about having a while yet and that I still need to get the boys off the books and how I’ve still got the mortgage. He was envious that I might escape and he didn’t know I’d be writing about the encounter today. For me I wasn’t sure how I’d be feeling about seeing myself in the organisation, the pang of regret that I was stagnating again. It was more the 40 year old beside him, I didn’t know how old he was until then, it didn’t matter until he put a number on it and I’d just seen him as a peer someone who I go into battle with to get things done.

There are more and more moments like this, watching Indiana Jones and the lost ark with my son at the weekend. Harrison Ford was 38 when he made it! Flipping heck, I was barely 10 years old when I saw it and Mr Ford I thought was an old swashbuckler, a professor no less.

With each passing obituary on the news, Sinead O’Connor (56) and the popular British journalist George Alagiah (67) just this week I’m reminded of the seconds counting down. My dad passing at 64 and then my grandad at 98. It’s mind boggling the difference, the lottery and I hope I’m somewhere in the middle.

We have my father-in-law (87) coming over tomorrow, looking for a flat nearby, there has been mention of the big C, possibly manageable. All I can do is provide that shoulder of support to my wife.

It’s not a great post in terms of mood, my thoughts need reframing. 7am, I look out the window, the rain is on…..it’s time to decide, to run or not to run.

So I did run, and the sun came out, I took in the smells, and breathed deeply as the tunes bouncing around from my watch to the headphones (isn’t Bluetooth amazing). I noticed the blackberries are on the way. The elderberries camouflaged in green, fully formed and not quite turned. I wonder could I come back nearer the time with my Tupperware box. I take a different turn than normal for this route. It’s painful there is a dip an up hill, another up hill, it’s my walking route in reverse. A metaphor for rewinding my thinking. To face into the challenge and defy the resistance, to change the route means to change the direction I’m going in and be better. I can run up this hill and I can take on the next challenge, there is time.

The weekend has arrived and we are taking the opportunity to try out a fish restaurant, Fin and Grape (that is new to us) this evening, and a way to close the week. 77 reviews and 5 stars, that is something to get excited about. Will let you know how we get on.

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For the cookbook lovers out there I thought I’d share a picture of their cookbook shelves from instagram. Loving the sound of the ‘A very serious cookbook’! I spend the next five minutes looking it up and find it’s the story of some of some of the recipes from Contra and Wildair, Lower East Side tasting restaurant in New York. Something for the bucket list!

I’ve worked through some new recipes to keep the boys happy, taken from a fitness magazine and a library book, needed a little reworking for me, my kitchen. I’ll get them up on Cook One Thing soon:

Braised Cheek Broth
Slow Cooker Peanut Chicken
Tusc an Style Chicken

If you cook one thing then it has to be the Tuscan Style Chicken dish, really worked a treat and kept my seventeen year old you busy for a half hour or so!

Coffee Menorca

Ensaimada with Nutella

Cuatro Por favor, is how the day has started over the last few days. Followed by a becoming arm that says no problem, follow me, promptly leading us to a free table. This guys job is solely to get folk seated, returning to the door promptly for the next set of guests. It’s a conveyor belt!

The coffee is strong and viscose, the first thing to be put on the table as we arrive into the dining hall. A mark of territory to the busy staff, someone has claimed table, don’t sit anyone else there given the guests the opportunity to hunt down the killer breakfast from the buffet. Thank fully there is a tea pot with just hot water, supposedly for those who want tea. In this case for me it’s a chance to bring the coffee up to something more than tepid at the same time as watering down the treacle like substance. It becomes reasonably drinkable and is welcome to go along side today’s offering of a freshly cooked omelette.

This week my coffee share is from an island in the Balearic sea, Menorca. The first couple of days the weather is changeable, warm rain, a little breeze, enough to give us some blue skies. Despite the cloud cover, my eldest caught the sun and a warning for the rest of the week as the cloud disappeared to constant blue skies.

A change of scene. No talk of databases, build cycles or deadlines. It’s there at the back of the mind, however it gradually dissipates. I’ve left a great team to push on, to keep going. I feel bad for leaving in a peak of craziness. There is never a good time though, the world of IT keeps giving! A chance to escape and a chance to de-stress.

I’ve wrestled the American gods by Neil Gaiman into submission and enjoyed every minute of it. I’ve succumbed to afternoon naps, an ice cream and a beer in the sun. Even a dip in the sea. I’ve kept the running up, more to keep the all you can eat buffets at bay. For someone who likes their food a battle of wills at every sitting. Trying to stay away from the carbs (apart form the desserts), and the ensaimada with Nutella. I’ve stuck to the proteins, taking that chance to try different sea foods although I’m sure they are a little overcooked as the resort caters for the masses rather than quality.

We explored a tiny bit of the southern tip of the island, running together. I’d got several routes in mind from google maps, however we were thwarted by the rocky terrain of the paths. No problem for hikers walking the cami de cavalls trail around the island or trail runners who never cease to amaze me. I however like a sure footing and definitely not keen to twist an ankle! So we kept to the streets and explored the other direction.

We did walk a tiny bit of the trail, and found a lovely cove that beckoned me back for another trip, this time with my trunks and a towel. I leave with the memory of the turquoise blue sea, our family in harmony as we came and went with the flow of the day and a break from the norm.

It’s our last full day as I type this up and I’ll be glad to get to our own menu’s, our own coffee. It’s possible we’ll be returning to warm weather and the start of summer. Three weeks to go for the 10k and a whole bunch of project work waiting for me.

The #WeekendCoffeeShare is an informal weekly link-up hosted by Natalie the Explorer that serves as weekly heart beat and sort of of a mind-dump. Helps me reflect on my week, with a list of achievements, thoughts and rambles normally whilst drinking a beverage probably listening to music.

May Sun – Coffee Share

Athur’s Seat, The warmth arrives

6:15am and I start the day going through the comments on my blog, the comments I made on someone else’s blogs. Easy wins on the road to feeling like I’m making progress. It’s better than checking the news and scrolling aimlessly. I enjoy the connections I’m making, a friendly jibe about small talk. A comrade in arms in the technology space relating to my predicament on a technology project. The gardener and the writer all stepping out their personal projects. Friends from across the globe and a nice way to great the day.

I’m gearing up, trying to wake my body and get ready for Thursdays run. I never feel like the run on Thursday goes that well. Tired from the meetings and constant conversations, and as I write this the feeling of bailing on the run is conquered by knowing I need this runners rush to get through another day of dealing with the machine.

The sun is shining so I’m keen to the route up by Arthur’s seat and down the innocent railway, a circular route that keeps me motivated most the way. Still a nip to the air, but the first time without gloves and the extra layer. I can’t resist taking a few shots as I reach the park.

A runners view

On reflection as I write, can’t help thinking this exercise routine is helping me keep grounded, to enjoy the light and how it changes. Today the world feels green and lush, it’s fresh the puddles of rain still to dry up and this little part of the world is alive and ready for the rays.

What else has gone on this week:

We watched the final of race around the world last night as it was broadcast, unusual for us in itself to watch live tv. We were that engrossed. Couples competing (two brothers, 2 pairs of father daughters, a married couple and two friends) across Canada with back packs, no phone, limited funds, and 8 or so check points they need to make 52 days. Awe inspiring stuff, moving to tears and a sense of achievement.

BBC One – Race Across the World, Series 3, The Final

I’m also hooked on Slow Horses on apple TV, a back stabbing spy drama. Clever, whitty, plot turns.

On the cooking front:
I was in the Portobello fishmongers on Saturday, looking for inspiration for tea as well as buying a couple fillets of Hake. At the same time, I couldn’t resist picking up an Arbroath Smokie. A hot smoked haddock, didn’t need cooking on the day in order to stay fresh as it had already been cook. The smokie, a renowned Scottish delicacy originating from Auchmithie, a small fishing village 3 miles from Arbroath.

My first encounter of having an Arbroath smokie was attending the highland show at Blair Athol Campsite. One of the concession stalls had set up shop by rigging up a smokery and making these beauties on site. Wrapped in a brown paper, on a damp day after camping, it was just the ticket for an elevenses snack.

So armed with a smoked haddock, I had no idea what I was going to do with it! Until the pressure of being given tea duty on Tuesday night.

Omelette ala ready steady cook:

4 Eggs lightly beaten
Knob of butter
Arbroath Smokie, flesh removed from the bone, broken into pieces
Double Cream – 50ml or so
Hard cheese – 50g or so grated (Parmesan/Gruyere)
Bread Crumbs – 50g or so

Using a pan that suitable for the grill in the oven.
Turn the grill onto a high heat

All whist on the hob:
Bring the butter to a bubble on a gentle heat
Add the eggs, and cook for a minute flat, forming a little layer
Add the fish, scattered evenly
pour over the cream, slowly, not looking to over power the eggs
scatter the bread crumbs.
A little shuggle, then place under the grill

Will be fairly quick so keep an eye on the bread crumbs as they begin to toast (5 mins or less)

Arbroath Smokies

Six Week Running Update

With six weeks to go before the Glasgow 10k, it’s time for a running update. Sunday comes around quickly which means the long one! It’s about being able to run for a set amount of time rather than completing a certain distance. That said the longer the time, the obvious distance takes care of itself.

Rewinding back to the start of the month, Monday and we had blue skies. The start of some warmth that brought a little joy to the start of the week. Then the last couple of days have been driech and it feels like the haar is full throttle today. It looks like it’s in the distance, however in reality it’s like running through an invisible mist that absorbs heat. However, the plan says Sunday is run day. So come rain or shine, the shoes get put on and we go for it one foot in front of the other.

Slow start, steady pace, I’ve decided to head to the Castle today which meant facing into some gradient. Again, slow, and steady, passed through the meadows and up past Greyfriars. Arrived at the Castle within 25 mins, just over 3k. I was hoping to get a couple of eerie pictures in the mist. However, the esplanade seemed to be locked off. Don’t know if there’d been an event yesterday for the Coronation or this was the start of the build out of the stadium for the summer events.

Down the steps and by the side you can get the full on feel of the scale and ingenuity of building something on the rock.

The run home, no escape, I’d run too far not to do 5k, however I needed to run a bit further to clock up the minutes. Which then meant, I managed to cover 8k in 50 minutes. The watch seemed happy, a new record, longest distance.

How am I feeling as I write this…..the legs are tired, and I’m slowly stiffening up. It’s a good 4 hours after getting back and I’m feeling that after glow sensation, when you know you’ve put your body to use.

The process is working, Tuesday and Thursday two short runs. Sunday the big one, don’t tell anyone but I think I’m enjoying it!

I’ve been busy in the kitchen, but not full on with the camera. The pictures pile up, and no words are forth coming. A sign that the weeks are full on and the idea of spending more time at the PC doesn’t feel right for my mental state of mind.

That said there are a couple of lamb shanks in the oven, for tonight’s tea as I write this. Lightly fried to begin with in the big Dutch oven. Two onions diced and softened, 2 carrots peeled and diced, softened, a tablespoon of curry powder, two tins of tomatoes and the usual overnight soaked beans technique that are simmered for 10 mins before adding. Three hours or so and we have something to keep the wolf from the door.

Meadows 5k Edinburgh

Meadows Route — Meadows Marathon Route – 5K – twice round

It’s been a week of aches and pains on waking this week, a struggle to get going. The cold in the air returned with the expectation that it might have snowed, on opening the curtains each day granted with relief. The aches and pains are from the run I took part in at the weekend.

For a minute I want to bask in the outcome so we are rolling back to last Sunday. The day felt stretched out, a way of managing the crowed I suppose with 4 events. A Full-on marathon, a 10k, a Half and a 5k. With a 2.30 start time for the 5k, I’d got a bit of a food issue and not prepared for running in the afternoon. I normally go straight after that first coffee of the day.

So, whilst my wife was running in the 10k. I got myself a toastie, between one of her laps. Hoping, that 3.5 hours would be enough to digest the little beast. My wife flew round the morning route, and we were home for 12:30. So I put the time in, trying to stay in the right mindset before cycling back for the 2.30 warm up and 2.45 starter gun.

As I got myself in position for the start and turned around, I was definitely the oldest by a long way. I got that sinking feeling that people might have just rocked up today after a night on the town, saying, ‘I know why don’t we do the 5k this weekend?’. I might have done that in my twenties, but here now in my fifties and a good twenty-five years of sitting behind my desk. I’d had to put some effort in on the streets.

With my earphones in, and attempted lip reading of the race directors’ instructions, I hear the count down as the gathered crowd counts down from five. I shoot down the cobbled street like a cannon out of a gun. I think I was overtaken straight away, a couple of folks held back. Then as we turned onto middle meadow walk, it got busy. We hit the half marathoners still in flow, a little congestion that got frustrating. Folk running two abreast. A speed burst from me saw me punch a hole in space time (not quite) releasing a bunch of angst. Turned the corner onto the flat and what would be the main circuit. There’s a coffee hut come mobile café made from what looks like an old air stream. The smell of bacon hits me as it drifts on the cold air. Stitch kicks in and my lungs are going ten to the dozen, I think I’m going too fast, but I’m keen to keep up with Mr casual, his hoodie tied round his waste like this is a jolly jaunt, a breeze for someone a good thirty years younger than me. I started to think what am I doing, and why, what is this for, as the pain of the cold restricts my breathing.

Still, I focus on the runners in front, start picking my targets. If I can keep up with that guy I’m doing ok. That lady looks like she is doing well, can I keep pace with her. If I can just make that lamp post. Is that a massage station? Definitely worth stopping for that. Can I really do two laps of this? I remembered a water stand on the map and if I can just make it there I’ll be able to keep living. Then I remember I never drink water in my training why would I need it now. I needed some relief, to breathe, and take a sip. It’s not actually possible to drink water whilst running I find!

What I didn’t realise, even though my watch was telling me, was that I was putting a good pace on and that I was really pushing it (for me). The tunes in my head, folk to real in, folk over taking me, it all added up and messed with that promise I’d made to myself, the fact I was just in this to take part and get round.

The hill in the middle, marking the halfway point at the top (and the end), ugghh, I’ve got go round again. I decided I’d take a breather at the base, a little walking, some breathing. The guy I’d just overtook, had to overtake me (Sorry for getting in the way!) The tune changed about halfway, motivation, strength, I could see the sign to turn and started again. I was halfway, the bacon van again, the tennis courts. Then my favourite part a guy with his son on his shoulders. Leaning in so he could high five racers as they pass by. Made that moment so less painful and a reminder that this was supposed to be fun.

There is more pain, more grunting, and that hill to the finish. I tuck in behind someone who’s got a brit of grit, youth and it helps. Like the peloton on the tour de France. She sees someone in the crowd who offers an energy drink, a grandparent maybe and I lose my crutch…but, it’s fine, it’s got me up that hill and I make it to the final turn. I had my sons’ words in my head about tanking it on the final 800m, give it all you’ve got. There isn’t anything in the tank or I would have. There is relief, the finish.

The result text come’s through almost immediately. My watch chirps away with all kinds of news. I just need to sit down!

I later find that I came 14th overall out of 46 and 1st out of the V50 category. I don’t know how to take this, one the fact I’ve entered a category called veterans and two there were only three. At the same time, I clock that there was a person in the V60. Mentally I think I still need to be running in another ten years…. and I can be that person.

I sign up for the Mens10k in Glasgow. I like the symmetry of a 100 day count down and sixteen weeks to go.

Monday

Monday again, and all those thoughts come flooding in. The wheel starts turning again and I’m berating myself for the food choices I made over the weekend.

I weighed myself, and I’m further away from my target than when I set my target. Internally I’m groaning, and my whole demeanour is one of a depressed 47 year old wondering how to put this right. I’m fighting so many demons in my head right now.

I weighed myself as a kick up the backside, on the whole it’s my science barometer, it tells me what I already know….without allowing me to lie to myself.

By this time it’s 6:30, I’m awake, I’ve done a little bit of yoga/stretching in order to keep the back pain in check, and despite knowing that the run is going to be hard work I push through my negative thoughts and don the kit. It’s back to being cold again, the mini heat wave gone and I’m double layered, also back to wearing light weight joggers.

My pace is slow but persistent, initially laboured, a tune comes on and then another and I find myself half way without realising and then the hill approaches, which I manage half way. I decide to take the scenic route round the pond rather than the road and it makes for a much more pleasant experience passing folk who I saw on the other side doing a similar circuit but in reverse.

The final quarter is painful with a couple of uphills, really tests my ability to push through. Although door to door this particular route is 6k. I usually walk from 5 as part of the warm down (or so I tell myself)

Today I managed to do some post run stretching, despite this I still feel like I’ve stiffened up after breakfast.

My head though and the woes of 6:15 are slowly melting away……time to get on with the day ahead…the PC is calling…….Monday