Monthly Archives: March 2018

Dodging the rain!

Funny that :I’ve tried to ,I really have,

From Lands End to literally Inverness,

But you can’t,

Well,some try an umbrella,

Some try a waterproof,

I just accept that I can’t,

There is a song,it’s called:”I never go out in the rain”

Maybe,the writer of that lyric hadn’t experienced Cornwall during the winter,

So,I probably won’t be able to dodge the rain,

It’s a bit like words,you can’t dodge them,your surrounded by them,

It’s best if our words aren’t like hail stones,stinging and hurtful

Maybe of a warm day,a sunshine shower can be quite refreshing,

So,our words could be like that refreshing sunshine shower,

You know,we never know what someone is going through ,we never do,

So,it’s best to refresh,to console,that way you won’t do harm,and ,you never know,

You might do some good.

My muse for today as I go out in the rain!


Breath in!

Sometimes we don’t always:Breath that is,

We should smell the flowers,

We could hear the music in the birds,

We could savour the reality of the rain,

Yes,breath in,breath out,breath 8n,breath out,

As we do,be excited about just this moment,

Breath in ,breath out,breath in,breath out,

As our pets slumber on the sofa,they breath in ,

As our minds need a de clutter,breath in breath out,

Whatever we do today,please please please,remember to breath,

It will help us all to appreciate just what we have and what we truly are,

So,I breath in,I breath out,of course I do,

I’m lucky my lungs work well.

Running ,but not quite on empty!

These last few days,we’ll,since Sunday have seen me recovering from my very first and hopefully not last half Marathon.Now,I don’t really know if there is a prescribed amount of time to recover from running 13:1 Miles but I do know that I’m so very glad that I prepared for it as much as I could.That said,it the reality of actually running it last Sunday was truly a unique experience for me,up there with performing in many ways.As these days since the run have passed by,thoughts of parts of the run have come back into my head and acted as a fuel to pursue my activities ever more.Yes,initially,I was tired,fatigued and lacking energy,but now I am in a better place,able to maybe use this past achievement and build on it.

Achievements as we get older can ,and have done in my case,be what others in our family circle or friendship group achieve.With the onset of my 60th birthday,I have tried not to just experience things in a passive way,but actually try my best to get involved in my own stuff.

Something that did cross my mind as I was running on Sunday was the sheer endurance of so many of the runners.Many of the 10,000 had travelled great distances to take part,and the breathe of charitable donations was truly humbling.When a city such as the size of London closes off its centre for an event,you feel very special,all be it for a few hours,but it’s a great personal boon.As the streets of the old city were traversed,as the Landmarks came and went,I felt a peculiar sense of nostalgia come over me and when I crossed the finishing line,I welled up with emotion.Quite a thing really.

Dwelling on Sunday and its affect on me,I know that it affected all the other runners tooand I realise that they all each have a story to tell and I truly hope that they have people in their lives that they can tell.

This has been a very personal muse today,a biographical account of a snapshot of my life.My time was 2 hours 42 minutes and 10 seconds,a full 8minutes faster than my predicted one.Wether I can improve on that depends on a number of factors,but if I can affect an improvement,then I truly will.Thank you for your interest in my blog and thank you for your patience .


My race plan tempos.

My first mile will be run at Largo pace,

My second will be at Lento tempo,

As the third mile marker signals,I hope to proliferate to Adagio,

Now,if that is comfortable,I will try the fourth mile at Andante Pace,

By now,I would have had my first water station replenishment ,

To celebrate that,along with the Guildhall school Brass Band,I will attempt my “moderator” pace,

Now,around the city ,the financial district,the Bank of England,I will try my Allegretto pace,

Starting on course with my Allegretto pace for a couple of miles until I reach the Tower of London,

Now,if my lungs are still in good shape,the I plan to increase tempo to Allegro,

If I’ve left enough air in the feet tyres,and my engine has the good oil,I might try a Presto along the embankment towards Whitehall pl,

Or,I will just bomb out at Blackfriars underpass,and crawl home from there,

It’s all a bit of a lottery really,

So,I might tip toe through the tulips at Moderato pace for most of the 13 Miles.

Past schoolboy races!

Either through genetic good fortune and a lack of too much food ,when obesity wasn’t ever heard of let alone discussed,I was quite an athletic child ,proud of my running prowess.This transferred to the school field on sports day and the smell of freshly mown grass acted as a stimulus to “run,run,run,Yes,run like hell”.As the finishing tape ,draped across ,held by one August teacher,and a pupil,often with a sick note because of terrible asthma,beckoned me to cross ,in the lead ,the victor.Yes,those short,parochial encounters in my primary school at Indian Queens,along the edge of the Goss Moor in Cornwall were my first ventures into running.

Of course,back then,you just walked or ran around ,at times like a headless chicken in that abandonment of being outside,or you were allowed to explore the countryside,soaking up the outside spaces where the appearance of a motor vehicle was an event of itself .As you got older,you attached yourself to that “lucky” boy whose parents had purchased him a beach ball that became that all purpose football,and with two jumpers placed against the wall,you had the primitive activity of a football association game.Now,although I loved the game ,I wasn’t skilled at it,and was often sent by the “bigger” boys in my group to retrieve the ball,meaning a fair bit of running.Now,some of the more feral types of which I would become one until it was found that I had a modicum of talent as a pianist,would often get a kick from sending that round object miles away ,leaving me to run for it,and run I did.In fact,I loved the freedom of running so very much,but ,and this sort of stayed with me,my shoes weren’t suitable for this function ,rendering me unable to keep up that level of speed that I could feel in my head.

Now,50 years later,a lot of water has gone under the bridge as they say,and I find myself with the right footwear but not the speed!!Oh well,you can’t have it all.So,this time tomorrow I will be travelling up to London to take part in the London Landmarks Half Marathon with all the “go faster garb” ,the head of a 10 year old,but the body of a sixty year old.As I line up,I will observe those more senior than me,wondering what brought them to this place.As a nosy person it will stay in my mind as I crawl around those streets ,familiar to me in a different life ,dressing my senses in a nostalgic perfume all of its own.

My Running Landmark!

Well,I’m off to London on Sunday to take part in my first half Marathon.Nervous!you bet I am,but excited at the same time.Maybe that is a contradiction ,or a mental conundrum but that is how I feel.Dont get me wrong,just to be taking part is really quite a privilege,coupled with the companionship of 10,000 other runners too will make it a life memorable occasion for me.What time I achieve is rather dependent on how it goes on the day ,but truly,I will be made up if I can just pass the finish line opposite Downing Street .

Many runners are posting their thoughts about the race on the LLHM Facebook page,and it is acting as a mutual point of encouragement for all those taking part.Ive never ran in such a large field before,and ,although I’ve enjoyed a number of Parkruns each week ,there have only been a few hundred to each event,so the sheer volume of runfall will be quite a spectacle for me.With the route taking us through the west end ,around the old city,along the embankment,via Blackfriars should give me a taste of the sheer grit of the full London Marathon Run.

My charity is so very dear to my heart and the Brompton and Harefield is now a world centre for cardiac research and this place really works miracles for all its patients.As is the case with the majority of hospitals,they need donated funds now to carry out needed research in groundbreaking medicine that will provide cures,and palliative care for the most poorly people.Many patients need ,and have to have long term care in order to just keep their life afloat.

So,I wanted to post a blog about what I was doing and tomorrow I will post my choice of music that I will play in my head as I run.

“It’s that white stuff again”!

It’s that white stuff again,

Oh no,not again,we don’t know what to do,

Don’t get me wrong,I never do fully know,but surely those clever bods at the council gritting station do!

So,the A31seems to be clear,the trains have beer and crisps,what more could we want,

It’s Sunday,it’s always slow I hear your refrain,

My chorus line around the district line is sublime,

It’s that white stuff again,so mind the gap!

That’s a good chap.

How can!

How can a mere man know what’s its like :

Even so called modern man with his paid maternity,

Granted,he changes a few nappies now(Tells us all so we don’t forget),

He rocks up at antenatal classes,learns a few terms,becomes “an expert”

So,it’s Mother’s Day!So what I hear you say,you Quirky Kernowsmith!

Granted,I totally get that I haven’t got a clue really what it’s like to be a mother,how could I?

You see,biologically,a man isn’t hard wired for pain,I mean real pain that comes with childbirth.

Yes,he might turn up for antenatal classes,discuss “the birthing Plan”,become an expert along with curling and football.

But really,we don’t have a womb,we just don’t,we don’t pass go ,we don’t collect the birthing crown.

So,Mother’s ,this is your day so to speak,and wherever you are,who ever is your son and or daughter,

Mother’s,as you spare a thought for what you have done for them,for without them ,you would have never started along the road.

Well,that’s me done,and thank you on this week of international Women’s day for all the Women in the world who make it go around .

Why,just a week ago!

Why,but a week ago,the population of our small town was gripped in a carpet of snow,with many of the roads rendered impassable,and our hearts were missing a beat at the thought of traversing them.Just like for many the excitement of x-mas,snow ,when it arrives,especially in the South here had different affects.As the excitement of the silent fall seems very much akin to Christmas Eve into Christmas Day.As the initial joy of the moment of the snow fall sinks in,we begin to release that needed supplies that we were confident would be available even at the local store,only to witness empty Milk storage shelves and bread not rising ,or yeast not fermenting in the delivery lorries.Just like X-mas,that initial joy begins to West off as we realise our relatives really are annoying ,and we are fed up with that feeling of having to do everything.So,the sins,and it’s attendant affects on our life begins to wear thin on our routines,and we give way to that age old default ,moaning.

Tv images of worse areas of the country,usually Scotland,of the Lake District,Darling nt cut it for us,as we wish the snow would just go away like the stale carols from the B and Q ad that has us threatening to throw a shoe at the box.We are,after all only human,aren’t we?

So,was it barely a week ago that we were snowed in?why yes,but a week can appear a very long time in our late winter,early spring forecasts,and we really do feel that we’ve said good bye to the snow for another year.In many ways,I wish I hadn’t moaned so much,you know ,how is it that I can be beaten to the last pint of milk at the co-op by a 90year old sporting a Zimmer frame,there really is no justice!!!!!!

Oh well,roll on X-mas ,eh.