Running, indulging the doolally and univocalism….

This morning my 'lovely' half-marathon training plan exclaimed that I should do a long 'steady' run of 12 miles, yes you read that right, 12 miles! Not quite sure why it wants me to run so far considering I still have five weeks until race day. But not wanting to upset the fecking thing, that is exactly what I did.

12.65 miles in a time of 1:38.38. Average pace 7.48 per mile.

Still slightly slower than target pace (although I had to go through various gates, cross roads and climb hills), but it felt good!

I had planned a slightly different route that enabled me to pop into a shop and get a drink at about halfway so that I didn't have to bother carrying a bottle throughout. Also, I had even created a new playlist to accompany me on the run. Get me!

Yesterday included a trip to Peterborough for a bit of a wander about. Once there we stumbled upon The Peterborough Arts Fest – a celebration of Peterborough and its people. With the rather catchy tagline of 'Indulge the Doolally'. According to the programme, we were promised, “jaw dropping spectaculars”, “internationally acclaimed acts” and an “extraordinary finale”. What we actually experienced was an event that nobody seemed to know about, there were very few people about, and actually very few acts performing. So, as you can imagine, we didn't hang around for the “extraordinary finale”. Although I did manage a picture sitting on a massive deckchair (small things and all that)…..

But also, more excitingly, performing in the Talkative Tent (sponsored by John Clare Cottage) were Dead Poets….

Dead Poets are made up of Mark Grist, him of poetry slam fame….

….and DJ Mixy, the pair formed the collaboration to challenge the preconceptions of poetry and hip-hop. If you get a chance to seem them you should, it's a very entertaining performance. Today was no different, Mark performed a piece of univocal poetry entitled 'The Fens' which was very clever. Univocalism is a poem that uses only one vowel, here is a rather poor attempt….

Jog to Morton

Born to jog,

Sort of hobby,

Good to go.

North from town,

Off to woods,

Lots to look.

Dogs too jolly,

Poop on boot,

Not good look.

Cows in fog,

Not to worry,

Jog on strong.

Boozy horror show,

Bosoms and knobs,

Long story.

Grotty old dog,

Soggy from ponds,

Looks odd.

Horror show,

Jog too slow,

School tomorrow.

In other news, Frank Hamilton has released his first, what he calls, 'serious' video….

 

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