The camera never lies – or so they say. Just below (and over in the video section) is a 10 minute clip from what will be my last bash around Cannock for this year.
Need I say more ? – Your vote counts – voting instructions at the end of the video.
Author Archives: hairygoose
When the Holidays are over
The time is getting near, nights are drawing in and very shortly I will have to return to work. A few months down in Cannes, maybe even 6 or more. Should be a mild winter with plenty of mountains around for the good old (rather new actually) carbon fibre mountain bike.
Talking of which, I hit Cannock Chase this morning on a very sneaky dawnie session. Sadly it was wet so was never going to be a blistering time but I did manage to make and upload a quick video of my antics on the newly refurbished ‘Lower Cliff’ run – by far the best red run at Cannock. Video is over in the section called ‘Videos’ strangely enough. Look for the title ‘Lower Cliff – Cannock Chase’ and you will not only be amazed at my riding skills but also my depth of music taste in selecting a suitable backing track.
This week I also managed to sell my old Specialized mountain bike. Way back in 2011 I paid $2300 for that beauty and have managed to secure a rather impressive $1260 for it now – not too shabby for a bike that is as well-travelled and used as that one.
Money is already in the bank, just waiting for the dude to come and pick it up.
I did manage to find two magnificent wild mushrooms on the blat through the Chase. Apologies about the screen dumps, the runkeeper app has changed, but these were stunning, bigger than my fist too.
This monster is called a ‘Fly Agaric Toadstool’ – apparently abundant in the UK but its the first time I have seen one.
from the same family but different shape although this one is a mushroom apparently. Whats the difference between a mushroom and a toadstool? if you believe ‘wisegeek’ – nothing at all, apparently the names are interchangeable. Some believe mushrooms are edible, toadstools are toxic but that isn’t the case.
Look at me, getting all botanical on your asses !
Get over to the video page and check out my latest upload
Dissecting the Disappointment
Where should I begin?
In the wrong starting pen for starters ! A very costly mistake. See way back in December 2014 when I applied for the Great Run, I was running a Half Marathon in 2 hours 5 minutes (give or take for poo breaks and bridge lifts) and that was the time I registered with them. When I got my race number and realised I was in the 7th starting pen, I contacted the organisers to see if I could move up some. It was possible but the amount of hoops I needed to jump through was off-putting. The last training run I ran was 1 hour 48 minutes – 17 minutes faster than my registered time, and I was aiming to shave another 3 minutes off that with other runners around me for encouragement. I thought that I could just play catch up – a very very VERY big mistake.
Because I knew I had some catching up to do, I got to my pen early and had a 3rd row place. No big stress, looking around at the other people there, I was deffo in the wrong place but as they staggered the starts I would soon make it up – or so I thought.
By the time I crossed the starting line, the race had already been running for more than 16 minutes! The sheer mass of runners on the streets meant that I was having to dart around like a whiley old fox dodging the hounds just to find passing spaces to get into open ground to run at my own pace. Before I could get my legs stretched, I would be blocked in again by slower runners. Little did I know but it would be like this for the next 10 miles.
I wanted to shout at people ‘come on’ to get them moving, get them out of my way but it was hopeless – I was getting frustrated. Just after the 1 mile mark, I started to pass people that were already walking…..! 1 mile into a 13 mile race, and you are already walking??? Please tell me what time you registered with to be walking at 1 mile in and to have started in the pens in front of me. A lot of liars I think. I was getting annoyed – more so with myself.
I pushed on – my run keeper in pace run mode telling me I was ahead of target pace. I had set it at 5m 10s per kilometre for pace and each kilometre it would chime in with my instant pace and average for the distance covered. If I wanted the magical 1h 45m I needed to maintain 5 minutes per kilometre or less. At one point, it told me I was ahead of my target by 20 seconds per kilometre. Ironically, the slow runners that were pissing me off, were actually helping me stay ahead of my minimum pace – I was having to do lots of little sprints to get past them and all of these little sprinty bits were going great guns for dragging my time down. But I was only half way around and no Superman. I needed to conserve some energy.
7 mile marker appeared and I had caught and was passing a man running with a full-sized mountain bike strapped to his back – I was perplexed. At 5 miles, I had passed a Pink Dinosaur and was still trying to work out how that could have had a better finishing time than me, but a man with a mountain bike – there seemed no logic to the start order.
By 9 miles, my legs were starting to feel the distance as we started what must have been a 2 mile or more climb. Just before the 9 mile marker, Runkeeper also gave me the call that I was now exactly on my 5m 10s per kilometre pace. With the hill looming, I was sure now to fall behind.
At the 10 mile flag, I was suddenly 5 seconds per kilometre down and resigned to the fact that I just had to keep plodding up the hill – my pace now a minute per kilometre slower than it needed to be – and clearly all about damage limitation – I have tried before to recover a 5 second deficit at three-quarter distance and it just ain’t happening.
11 miles and still on the hill when someone shouts ‘it’s all downhill from the water station’. I grabbed a banana from one of the Toon Army lining the roadside and a fresh bottle of water from the station and then realised the woman who shouted the downhill encouragement was being at best, economical with the truth. More hill!
Then finally, over the crest and a view of the North Sea that I had been dreaming about for the last hour and three-quarters. The last turn was also the 12 mile mark and the run home was parallel with the sea.
Somehow I managed to pick up my pace again and started struggling to get around other runners, there was even one person being carried by two other runners – of course, I never slowed but breezed past in my last push for the line.
When I started the race, the timer at the start line was 16 minutes and some seconds in. In my mind, I had been hoping to see the finish clock at 2 hours which would have given me the right aggregate time – not my day !
10 minutes outside of my target time, 7 minutes SLOWER than the organisers estimated for me. What the f**k just happened?
Distraught? Not quite, despondent – most definitely, dizzy from all the effort – yep and sweating like a rapist too! Best of it was, after running a Half Marathon – I had more than a 2 mile walk to get to the Metro.
Sitting on the train, a local lady asked me if I was ok. I explained what had happened and she patted me on the shoulder and told me than men are far too hard on themselves.
You think that is the end ? Not yet!
On the way home, I think I may have actually gone too fast. Those average speed cameras may have caught me out. After sitting at 50mph on cruise throughout the whole roadwork system, I spied the national speed limit sign a hundred yards or so in the distance and floored the Rangie, only at the last-minute to see just one more camera system right before the speed limit sign peering out of the darkness – I now have a two-week wait for the NIP to drop through the door.
Still – Belgian beer in the fridge after a week without any.
Poetry in Motion
Roses are Red
Violets are Twisted
Bend over love
You’re about to get fisted !!
It’s all over now bar the racing. That’s it, done! Last 10k training run completed this evening in a very shabby 50 minutes (not that my heart thought it was shabby though !!) Race weight is going to be a whopping 92.2kgs (although tomorrow nights pizza might add a few grams to that) – I was aiming for 89kgs but whats half a stone between friends huh ?
Dress code for the race will be all black with mid blue Brooks Glycerines on my feet, skin coloured nipple plasters which you wont be able to see because 1. they are skin coloured and 2. they will be under my shirt!, a transparent hooded poncho if it is raining, and whichever pair of socks get pulled out of my drawer the day before when I am packing. I will also be wearing a tight pair of briefs to keep my tackle all together and off the floor.
If you need anything else – right now it is probably too late.
I do have one question though – where are Neal Westwood and Verity McCoy – I have nae heard from either of them in a long loch.
Scab Etiquette
I sat on the sofa the other night, peeling off the second scab from my knee (no not a miner from the Thatcher era) after my mountain bike tumble the other week. As I pulled a section out, I placed it on the sofa next to me so that I could dispose of it properly after getting the rest of it – and that got me wondering.
If you were a guest at someone’s house, would it be ok to pick at a scab? Clearly if you did, leaving it on the sofa would never be acceptable but there is a time in a scabs life where it gets itchy and it needs a little assistance to break free from its regenerating role of replacing your skin.
What did fascinate me though was the thickness of the damn thing. When something gets that thick, it needs peeling off, I think they get to a point where they are too thick to do their job. When you can snap them in half just like a single finger of a Kit Kat then you know it is time to go.
The human body is amazing!
Which leads me nicely into running again – much to some readers disgust.
The weekend had me hit a double whammy – two personal bests fell by the wayside. Saturday morning in Leicester, I ran my fastest 5k there – admittedly it was almost a minute off my best 5k ever but different terrain brings different times right? The best was yet to come though. Sunday mornings I have been running half marathons in preparation for this weeks race up north. This sunday, I managed a new PB for a half marathon too – 1 hour 48 minutes. Curiously this time is slap bang in the middle of my target time and the predicted finish time the race organisers have given me, so the gauntlet is definitely thrown.
Spare a though – on Friday evening I ate a large thin crust double pepperoni pizza from Pizza Hut all to myself – so is it mere coincidence that I then went on to run two new PB’s?
I think it was not coincidence so will be visiting Pizza Hut again this Friday evening.
So it’s almost here, watch me on the BBC or track me in real-time as I run by downloading the runkeeper app to your smart phone, tablet or log onto their website and sign up. Look for the username of hairygoose and add me as a friend.
Cheeky eBay Bar Stewards
Woe is the generation that believes all that their computer screen puts in front of them. From social media outlets to the ‘wonderful for stupid people’ eBay.
Last month I tried to sell my Range Rover on eBay. Unfortunately it didn’t sell. It did however, attract a lot of wankers. You know the type – ‘I will give you 10 grand cash by saturday’ or ‘will you take my pikey mobile in part exchange’. How these feckless idiots actually manage to navigate their way through life baffles me, but then eBay took one step closer to the crown of ‘Wankers of the Universe’ by sending me a mail suggesting I relist it with a 99p start price. Can you imagine the fucktards that would crawl out of the woodwork for that one?
They also sent me some examples of ‘similar’ cars that had started as a 99p sale and also listed what they actually sold for as an example to tempt me in deeper to their dark web of deceit. I very quickly took a screen dump of their clever marketing strategy – see how long it takes for you to spot the problem (if it takes you longer than 3 seconds, I recommend you stay far far away from internet sites that can take your money).
Spotted it? I hope you did, and instantly too.
Actually, thinking about it, selling the same car twice could double my money and potentially mean my next car is ‘for free’.
On a lighter note, I got my race number for the upcoming Great North Run (Yes Susan, I am talking about running again). The race takes place on Sunday 13th September and will be live on the BBC. if you see someone running that looks like me, wearing the number below – there is a very good chance it might be me. Please therefore wave at your TV screen.
If my timing is a little out and you see me squatting at the side of the road squeezing one out – DIVERT YOUR EYES!!!!!!
And Finally
Did you ever make a mistake that pays off? Last week, I emailed the captain of my current boat asking for a reference as I have found another project of interest. I accidentally sent the request to the vessel manager rather than the current Captain.
Normally this would have been a disastrous faux pas but in my case, it may have actually done a whole heap of good. I had been trying to get a committment out of the manager for some time as to how much longer my contract might run – he had never responded but the slip of an email suggesting I might not return to them at the end of the month had him on the phone within 48 hours offering things like a ‘sale’ retainer. If I stay on and the boat is sold from underneath me, I would get a 3 month salary bonus on top of everything else. The conversation ended with him asking me to consider what I want to stay on until the end……………………now, what shall I do?
Eating on a budgie
I just read through my last post. When I wrote that, I was sick as a dog and not running…..hmmmm, something of a theme developing here then.
To keep a long story long, on Wednesday last week, I went to Cannock Chase with Poopie Pants and my mountain bikes. After suffering a binding front brake on all of the climbs, I finally stopped to release some hydraulic fluid and stop the bind.
It needed to be done, I had struggled to climb at the same pace as poopie, in fact, there were a couple of places that I got left behind – and as you might guess, that right pissed me off – the only person that is allowed to get left behind at Cannock is Steve Brown, because he is old and slow.
So, with some hydraulic pressure released and my front wheel now spinning free as a bird, we sat at the entrance to the only big downhill section that was open that day. I told poopie that as this section was fast and technical, I would put my crash helmet back on. Normally I get too hot on the climbs to keep it on and generally our uphill speeds are much safer than our downhill stuff.
Helmet on and I lead the way. It is fair to say that all of my uphill frustration was now manifesting itself as pure leg power mixed with brain out bravery. Like a man possessed, I took off. I have to say at this point that Mr. Brown who we would normally consider the downhill master, would have been left in my wake. I was on a mighty mission. The Specialized was absorbing the bumps as if they were mere pebbles. Jumps were fluid, air time was abundant, the landings – like a boss. In short – I was a World Champion, flying like a recently released Banshee.
Until
Just one little mistake and 20mph in the forest on a downhill track can suddenly appear to be a tad too fast.
I couldn’t hear Rupert behind me, he hadn’t stayed anywhere near on pace. I hit a jump with my left foot slightly out of position on the pedal which then caused the bike to veer slightly to the right from the top of the jump.
The 200 year old tree loomed in front of me. You don’t need to be a Rocket Scientist to know that mountain bike brakes and steering have little if no effect when airborne. Instantly I knew I was in trouble. I wasn’t going to be in the air all the way to the tree, that was obvious enough but at the side of the cycle track, at the base of the tree was the root system of the 200 year old beast. Now I say root system but to accurately describe it I need to use a word that rarely comes out of my vocabulary locker.
These roots were gnarly roots – yep, gnarly mother fu**ers. Polished and shining at the side of the track and standing maybe half a metre above the ground and I was heading straight at them at almost 20mph. At this point, my life didn’t flash before my eyes but instead a quiet calmness reminded be about the physics (gyroscopic effect) of a spinning wheel. The best chance I had of survival was to continue at full speed directly at them and let the bike ‘do the work’ as it floats across the top.
For anyone that rides, drives, runs, skates, skis etc you will be aware of this theory – keep up the speed and you will be ok. The problem is, as your brain very quickly makes the association between your speed, the obstacle in front of you and a great deal of pain when it all goes wrong. It wants to slow down as it quite rightly makes the calculation of ‘less speed = less pain’ which is of course true but it doesn’t take into account the greater possibility of clearing the obstacle at the higher speed and thus, no pain.
There is another part of the physics equation that I either forgot about or just didn’t have time to compute after landing very close to those gnarly mother fu**er roots. The bunny hop. The simple thing here was that those roots stood at around half a metre or 50cm, whereas my front axle stands around 36 or 37cm. For the mass of my flying body and bike to have any chance of going up and over the roots, my axle (or to be more scientific, what would soon be my ‘Pivot Point’) needed to be above the gnarly mofo root height. Without the hop, it wasn’t.
My Runkeeper GPS showed and initial speed of just under 20mph before coming to a complete and abrupt stop using only the hard forest floor as cushioning. I remember hitting the roots, then seeing the track fast approaching my face as my arms naturally stretched out to break my fall. Then, I thought it was over as I lay in the dirt until my bike came crashing in on top of me in some sick kind of comedy fashion.
Laying on the floor like a stale sack of potatoes, I went through my self checks. Hole in my knee, very pale skin, some blood. Right forearm light scratching, right hand, light scratching, left foot – big toe very painful. Moaning from the shock, I continued self checks and was still in one piece. About 15 seconds later – Poopie caught up, slowed as he negotiated the new obstacle in the middle of the track and then called out ‘Looks like I will beat you to the bottom this time’ as he released his brakes and pedaled on – the wanker! Never even stopped to see if I was OK. I later found out that this was because he was afraid of finding broken bones poking out of skin and general bloodiness.
Thankfully, the bike survived without damage. I can’t say without a scratch because it is already full of them, I wouldn’t notice a new one. It does mean however that since Wednesday last week, I haven’t been able to keep up with my run training. I am hoping to get out again tomorrow.
Eating on a budget is where this all started. I was in Sainsbury’s yesterday and looking for some baked beans. I had a flashback to a TV program some time ago where they compared own brand foods to big label stuff. One thing that had stuck in my mind was their baked bean experiment. I decided to give it a go for myself.
Heinz baked beans – the main stay of any childs diet that liked to fart. I found many variants of these on the shelf, 90p per can. I looked around and found a Sainers own brand for 40p and then looking even further, found another Sainers own brand for just 25p. Sneaky I thought. But what is the nutritional comparison? Well, this is where I got a shock. Both the cheaper brands were lower in Sugar and Salt – that has to be a winner right?
The taste test needed to be completed so this morning I had beans on toast. I bought a can of each of the own brands to see what the difference was. This morning I opted for the 25p can. No ‘easy open’ lid so I had to get the can opener out but let me tell you – these were good. They did in fact taste a bit sweeter than how I remember Heinz but for almost a quarter of the price, I had a healthier option.
So a can of beans for 25p, three slices of bread from my fresh loaf that cost £1 (I reckon that’s 10p a slice), a smidge of Lurpak Spreadable 5p and not including the electricity for cooking, I reckon I had a champions breakfast this morning for around 60 pence.
I ROCK !!!
This post is dedicated to Amy Horne of Leamington Spa – who despite her flatulence problem, is still brave enough to be seen in public.
Interim Measure
I just felt the need to share a little something with you so wanted to make a short and sweet post. I stumbled across this absolute gem of a video this morning on liveleak and it is fair to say, it had me laughing even though I am sick. It is work safe but does need volume so you can hear what these chaps are saying.
Then, what was going to be a very short post, turned into more of a lengthy debate. I started reading some of the comments on the video and all the guys were finding this video hilarious (and who wouldn’t) but they were also saying that women would not find it amusing as their sense of humour was different, I would say it is more complex. This then got me to thinking about other male/female differences that makes women’s lives much harder than mens.
The first thing I noticed (as I was tidying my room) was washing clothes. See, as a man, I can just grab all of my dirty clothes, regardless of origin or colour, bundle them all into one machine, select ‘rapid wash’ leave the temp at 30º and walk away for half an hour. When it’s finished, bundle that heap of wet rags into the drier and switch it on for 40 minutes – hey presto, all my washing is done in less than an hour and a half and back in its storage facility, awaiting its next outing.
Shoes – no complex decision process here. Guys only own two pairs of shoes in general and most likely one pair is covered in mud. If we are going to see our friends or family, the muddy shoes are what those people will be expecting us to be wearing.
Traffic lights – they are either green or red – unless you are a chick. If its green, it might go red, causing you to stop. Then you have to decide, eye liner, lippy, hair, eye shadow, blusher etc etc. If it is already red, you decision process is slightly different based on how much time on red there is left, but it is similar to the green scenario – eye liner, lippy, hair, eye shadow, blusher etc etc but if you really are not sure, then SMS, Facebook, Twatter etc etc. (actually, as Facebook has grown in popularity, it has reduced options for ladies at this point – no-one still uses other social media platforms like Bebo, MySpace, Hi5 and others – so ladies, Facebook is saving you time )
Chocolate – good topic for me. Can I eat a bar of chocolate? Yes, if I go for a run to offset the calories. Can a chick do it? Well first there is the worry, that old saying ‘a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips’. Once they get past that, they figure out a little exercise will burn it off but then a whole decision process is kicked off. What type of exercise should they do, where should they do it, how long for, what to wear, how much make up to put on, which gym kit is most fashionable at the moment. By the time a decision is made, it is dark outside and a chick can’t possibly exercise after dark in case the spiders get her!
So it is true, ladies lives are far more complex than men. There is that old saying too ‘ Women prefer the simpler things in life – Men!’ Now please don’t let this saying mislead you. It’s not a preference on their behalf, it is more likely to be envy at our no-nonsense lifestyles.
I did warn you it was going to get lengthy. Now, let’s get back on track……..running. I am sick as a dog at the moment, real sick, man sick, sicker than any woman has ever been, ever. So sick in fact that I have not ran all week – that is very sick. It does though lead me onto the need for a soundtrack for my up and coming Great North Run. I needed a soundtrack for 1h 45m + a 10m slot of Rihanna at the end as punishment if I was still running/motivation to get across the line. I came up with a list of songs that was more than 3 hours long. I have slowly squeezed it down but I am still over time by a good 40 minutes. The current playlist is below, let me know your thoughts as to what more should be taken out, what more should be added. I will be re-sequencing the tunes listed too, to keep me slow at the beginning, to speed me up when I am flagging and to finish in a giant crescendo of noise and pain.
It’s not all work work work though
There are some small pleasures of doing my job. In this case, it was the trip back from Ibiza.
We were anchor up at around 18:00 and underway and had opted for single crew watches. Oscar the mate, took the first two hours, I took the second two.
Bit of a coup if I am honest with you – my watch was the sunset watch – only equalled by the sunrise watch. Sometimes, if I am one real jammie git I get both but this was only a 6 or 7 hour punt so just the sunset watch. After the carnage of the preceeding 6 days, the sunset watch always makes it all worth while.
Single crew watches are the best too – no polite conversation, no talking shit, no chewing the fat – just me, my tunes and two great big steering wheels – oh and the sun setting behind me. Fucking Magic !!!!
The decks were clear and the tunes came on – a couple of perfect sunset songs to start with, not deliberately selected, just up at complete random.
London Grammar – Strong (if you know this song you will understand why it is a perfect sunset tune)
The Middle East – Blood
Goo Goo Dolls – Iris
then after the sun was down, as if by magic
Maroon 5 – Moves like Jagger – just to liven things up a bit
It was the start of an epic two hour watch and let me tell you something – if I have to tolerate another 6 day slaughter to get 2 hours like that again, I will be at the front of the queue.
Moving on – The Great North Run emailled me the other day. They reckon that based on my results of the 10k I did a few weekends back, my half marathon time will be 1 hour 50 minutes and 58 seconds. I reckon thats a load of old bollocks if I am completely honest, because I am aiming for 1 hour 45 mintues. One of us is wrong, time will tell who.
So I need some suggestions – play list suggestions. It needs to be upbeat but not too heavy something like glad you came – the wanted, this modern love – bloc party, A-punk – Vampire weekend……..that sort of beat. I need 1 hour and 40 minutes of it. The last 5 minutes I intend to play Rihanna – with a promise that I wont remove my earbuds until I am across the line, those last five minutes will be my fastest section of the whole event so that I can get the sound of that moaning bitch out of my ears.
Get sending your suggestions without delay less than 2 months to go.
The November Archives 