A godson, a baptism and a letter….

Yesterday my beautiful nephew became my beautiful godson….

Stanley was baptised. It was a fantastic day, my sister and her husband had thought of everything, everyone enjoyed themselves and the day went off without any problems at all. But then I began to think a bit more about the day. It was Stanley's day. It was his baptism. So I began to wonder what sort of day HE had had.

A letter from Stanley….

Dear Mum and Dad,

Thanks for a great day on Sunday, although it was a little bit different to our usual Sunday. Normally I'm allowed to chill in my cot for a bit and then get to have a very lazy day being played with and generally have a very relaxed morning. Today I didn't get a chance to relax at all. From the moment I woke up it was panic. I was put into an outfit I have never worn before and had to put up with ooooos and aaaahs from everybody I met for the rest of the day. Let alone being forced to wear a hat that I tried to make clear I wasn't impressed with, but you kept stuffing on my head.

We then went to this huge place that I have never been to before, although from what I understand you should have been taking me regularly since my birth. I met loads of people, all intent on cuddling and kissing me. If that wasn't bad enough I was passed to this fella in a black outfit who promptly tipped a load of water on my head. It's no wonder I zonked out.

I also understand that I have some lovely godparents, but they seemed more eager to show off my certificate than actually allowing me to be in the pictures.

Also, considering it was MY day I was a bit surprised that you let my sister play with all MY presents and eat the sweets that had been given to me. I can't wait until I'm a bit older, I am so going to get my own back.

At one stage I started to get very worried when a knife started to get waved about, especially because of the crazy face you were pulling. Although the cake was lovely, I had enough of it stuffed into my gob throughout the day.

But overall, I had a fantastic day and would like to say thanks.

Love

Stanley


 

The dos and don’ts of the long run…..

Sunday, the home of the long run and the staple diet of the road runner. So today I planned to complete a run of at least nine miles. This I did, 10.76 miles in 1 hour 31 mins, a reasonably steady pace that is a long way off what I'm hoping to run the Peterborough Half in, but 10 miles all the same.

After today's run I thought I would impart some words of wisdom to help other runners execute the weekly long run and help avoid this morning's unnecessary complications:

DO take some water with you if you are running for more than an hour.

DON'T strategically hide it in a tree so that you don't have to carry it around only to forget what tree you hid it in and then realise it has fallen down requiring you to fight through brambles to retrieve it.

DO get your run in early.

DON'T stay in bed too long so that when you finally get out for your run the sun is out and it starts to get really hot.

DO have a playlist prepared.

DON'T after hearing Stereophonics on the radio set your iPod to play all their albums, because after 'Word Gets Around' they started to get a bit crap causing you to stop and put on something else to stop your ears bleeding.

DO remember that wherever you run you share the path with other people.

DON'T stress yourself out when you met the fat family and their equally fat dogs who think that it is their right to take up the whole path and refuse to move even an inch to the side.

DO try to eat a sensible breakfast and allow time to digest.

DON'T scoff down four chocolate brioche rolls, guzzle down two cups of tea and run out the door.

Tomorrow: REST DAY

CUSHTY!

 

Peterborough Parkrun

At last I have a local Parkrun, well not exactly local, still 20 miles away, but it will definitely become a regular fixture of the weekend. I've done a few of these events over the last year and they are always great fun and really well organised. My first experience of Peterborough Parkrun was no different.

It takes place at Ferry Meadows in Nene Park and is basically a couple of laps of the lakes, and because it is slightly out of the city centre, there is not a Chav in sight.

Results email…..

I was slightly disappointed with my time of 20.20. I ran 19.57 at Tilgate Parkrun last weekend, and that was a hilly course in places. This morning I worked hard from the start, but come 3km my legs felt very tired, I tried to up the pace for the last couple of kilometres but couldn't get under 20mins. But that does give me a target when I visit Ferry Meadows again next week.

 

Unexpected happenings….

Sunday, the home of the long run, and because I'm staying at my sister's, an opportunity to run somewhere completely different. As much as this is great, it makes a welcome change from running around Bourne Woods, it does bring a sense of the unexpected. Tonight's run had unexpected happenings by the bucket load.

I set off just after 7pm with the intention of running 6 miles at a reasonably good pace. As I ran out of the estate road close development I had a rough idea of where I was going to go, a very rough idea, but in idea all the same. I headed out to the right, no path, but only a quiet lane, so chances of being wiped out by a speeding car were very small.

Suffice to say, within a mile I nearly got wiped out by a car so headed for the public footpaths that take you across the countryside. A short dash through some woods took me to a lovely looking footpath with a stile and manicured grass that looked very inviting….

I stopped to take in the view: rolling hills, wildlife and setting sun….

Continuing down the 'footpath' lead me to a gate, that I climbed over. I did think that climbing over gates on what should have been a public footpath did seem slightly strange. But they are a strange lot down south so I wasn't too perturbed. As I made my way across the field in the direction of the footpath arrow, I came across a herd of sheep, they seemed just as surprised to see me as I was to see them.

I continued along the edge of various fields following the very vague 'footpath' signs. Although one farmer had made the effort to indicate the way my creating giant arrows on the ground.

I came across a very strange looking bridge that crossed a stream. I was unsure if it was designed to help people cross or stop people crossing. But things were going well and a strange looking bridge was not about to put an end to my run.

At this point in the run the public footpath signs began to appear slightly less often, and when they were visible the direction of the arrow was not always clear. At one stage the signs were even hidden in the bushes….

Things were bad….but they were going to get worse. I was lost. I climbed various gates following what seemed like a public footpath, but was to turn out not to be a public footpath at all. At one stage I crawled under an electric fence in pursuit of what seemed like a public footpath, although this was just to end up as another dead end. I did find a track that I thought may take me back to a road, only to follow it for 400 yards before I saw signs telling me to 'beware of the dog'….

At this point I decided to turn round and head back the way I came. This wasn't as easy as it sounded, I had totally lost my bearings, and everything began to look the same. At one stage I even looked at the map on my phone to see if I could regain my bearings. It didn't help. All it told me was that I was in the middle of nowhere. I knew that already. Ironically, I found a big pile of crap….

Eventually, whether by luck or judgement I found my way back to the road. Albeit still a couple of miles from my destination. Finally, on a road again I picked up the pace for the final bit. Although I did stop when I saw the name of one of the cottages on the road….

….and when I saw this rather strange landscaping…..

I made it back, what started as a 6 mile run, ended up just short of 9 miles. But in terms of half-marathon training, it can only help.

Splendid indeed!!!

 

Left with the kiddies!!

My sister headed off to church this morning. No, she's not a practising catholic, or a born again Christian, or into Scientology, or even a devil worshiper. The reason she has gone to church is simple. Stanley gets christened in a fortnight and she is trying to convince the vicar that she believes in God so that he will perform the ceremony.

I was left with the kiddies!

Stanley was having a nap when she left, leaving me and Grace to sit and draw in the garden….

We watched Derek on Cbeebies, I wasn't amazingly impressed with Derek, but Grace seems to think he is very cool, I just think he is a dick….

Stanley woke up after 40 mins, so we had a game of peek-a-boo…..

After that we got Stanley up on the sofa and Grace piled up 100s of toys in front of him….

…..so that we could play with the bricks…..

We somehow survived the morning in one piece. Cushty!