Tuesday, 22 July 2014

More from the Green Gym

We have spent a fair bit of time struggling to remove the remains of a tree from our garden over the last few days. Last night we had some success, not in a small way aided by the use of a neighbour's felling axe!

The Swan Silvertones


Monday, 21 July 2014

The Green gym

If the Dales National Park is God's gym (which it surely is), then our (modest) garden is the Green gym. No running was done over the weekend, but a bit of walking plus five hours hard graft in the Green. I'd have to run all day to get blisters on my feet like those on my palms this morning. It all goes in the pot labelled Binman Fitness

My father was a coal merchant. He used to run up and down folks' drives, garden paths and ginnels with a half hundredweight of coal on his back. He never went to a gym in his life but he was like a bull. Andy Fitzpatrick's blog post has fascinated me since I first saw it. I'm as weak as a kitten, but not weedy. Getting fit is easy, getting harder / tougher, isn't but it might help next summer after 30 + hours on our feet 

Rivers of Babylon / Cultural dub


Thursday, 17 July 2014

The Heptones


Comeback - week one

Well we seem finally to have strung a week's half-decent training together. Last Thursday Stef and I did a new road route from home, which we repeated (albeit in the opposite direction, and still with a 2 mile uphill start) on Monday. On Tuesday it was PetShopPete's social run up around Windgate Nick and the mysterious Doubler Stones, and last night a new route over Simon's Seat from Barden Bridge and back along the Dales Way. It was not far off dark when we finished last night and it was the best I've felt for many months after a run-out. My favourite old jeans feel a lot looser this morning and I'm already looking forward to nipping out again tonight. With only 53 weeks till next year's Lakeland 100 it is about time we got moving

Wednesday, 16 July 2014

Elvis and I


One of us appears to be wearing heavy stage make-up while the other is showing the effect of spending much of the previous weekend out in the Dales watching the Tour de France, plus a week back out walking and running on the hill