World enough and time

 Pretentious title - but the thing was this phrase was running through my mind, along with a whole load of other stuff on Tuesday. The day was beautiful. There was a light easterly wind - so a bit of a headwind, but nothing disastrous. I wanted to do a long run on the roads because the E2NB race looms as does Edinburgh Marathon. I have been doing longer runs on trails, stopping for sandwiches, but sooner or later I had to get more specific; running on tarmac, eating gels. Peter has no interest in this so it would be a solo trip.

And in the meantime last week my left knee had mysteriously swollen up over night. I never noticed until I tried to do a quad stretch and the leg wasn't for bending. My best guess would be I'd been overdoing the squats. I refurbed an old barbell we had kicking around the house last week and did me some deep squats with the barbell on  my shoulders.

Why on earth would you do that?

Sigh, because us older ladies need to stay strong. And it all seemed to be going well.

Anyway, that's only a guess, that might not even be it.

I took my leg with swollen knee out for a run on Sunday and it didn't feel like running was much of a problem, so I thought, what the heck, I'll do the long run on Tuesday if I can.

Tuesday dawned bright and cold and delicious. My legs were a bit achy. I'd done quite a lot of exercises the day before. (Why did you do that?) (Och, you know.)

I didn't feel great, but I didn't feel terrible, and backing down from a challenge always puts another dent in my dented confidence.  I stopped at Porty just to record how lovely it looked and then put the camera away until the other end.

The future is bright. The future if fuzzy.

My first stop was at Prestonpans. I thought that if my knee was having a problem with running I'd find out for sure when I stopped at the Coop to get some water. If it was bad I'd go up the road and get the train home. To my surprise, when I started walking, my knee didn't seem any worse than it did when I set off. It was just general aches I was dealing with. (What kind of army does General Aches command?)

My next stop was at Aberlady. The 3 or 4 miles on the sandy trails through the thorny bushes round Longniddry Bents had felt very hard going, and my legs were tired and stiff. I got some more water and some paracetamol too this time. The paracetamols had caffeine in them, and it kicked in pretty quickly. I soon felt a lot better and I was running much better again too. The point of the title is that you never really know if you're damaging yourself or not. For all I knew this was helping my knee. And there isn't time to test these things out in a scientific way. You just have to take your best guess and then live with whatever the consequences are.

I was tired for the last few miles but elated too. I was going to make it. My leg had held out. The sun was shining.

I had intended going into North Berwick to eat something when I arrived, but as I drew near the train station I realised I could probably catch the next train if I hurried. It was that or hang around for a whole hour for the next one. I picked up the pace and made it onto the platform and the train just in time.

When I got on the train I was going to text Peter to let him know I was still alive. I was distracted though because people were shouting my name. Who should come laughing up the train but Roly McCraw and David Alwood - my old clubmates and fellow runners. They had run round the coast and had something to eat in North Berwick. Had been sitting about sun-bathing on the platform when they saw me fire onto the train at full tilt.

It was lovely to see them and I'm afraid I spoke a lot, the combination of caffeine and 3 or 4 hours in my own head causing a torrent of thoughts to come tumbling out.

It was a magical day and I was delighted with it. My leg didn't seem any worse than it was  before so I chalked it up as a win and hoped that the swelling would go down.

But it did not.

The next day me and Peter had an appointment up the Southside. We have taken advantage of Free Wills Month and got our wills drawn up, and we had to sign them. Since we were in the area we went to Arthur's Seat and had a snoop around for butterflies and birds. There was a bit of a cold wind but it was sunny again and we found enough creatures to keep us busy for a few hours.

This slow walking around seemed to annoy my leg more than running and it felt fat and stiff by the end of the day.

Yesterday I was working so I did very little - I walked to Lidl to get some vegetables and made some soup. Top work-out. At the end of the day my knee was still swollen.

Today was forecast to be sunny and bright and Peter wanted to go to Postman's Walk at Aberlady to look for orange tips and holly blue butterflies. He was going to cycle and I said I'd tag along - maybe that would be better for my leg. Sadly, the sun didn't turn up. So we cycled to Aberlady into a freezing headwind and when we got there we availed ourselves of the nearest cafe.

Actually not a cafe but a plush golf hotel. It was jolly nice to have a sit down out of the wind though. 

Obviously I wasn't listening to other peoples' conversations because that would be rude but the guy at the table behind Peter spoke non-stop about celebrities and people on tv for the whole time we were there to his silent companion.

We took our time with our big milky coffees and creamy jammy scones and then braved it back out again after Peter had emptied his bank account up at the till.

Then back out into the wind, but this time it was behind us! A very different experience. We arrived home cheery.

So my knee felt really pretty good after the cycling.

I notice that several years of getting injured a lot has altered my attitude, because I hope I can get back to proper running training, but I'm also not overly concerned - especially if I can cycle. I'll have fun either way. 

Also I picked up a thorn in my tyre somewhere out on the ride - but my tyre never went flat until after I got home. That's a bit of luck.

Alloa half marathon and other stuff

 It has been a busy old month. My mum had a stroke at the end of January. Luckily my sister who is a newly-retired nurse was nearby and realised what was happening right away - so mum got really prompt help. None-the-less we were all, initially, not optimistic about what would happen - she's 96 and has had mounting health challenges for some time, so we thought this was maybe one challenge too many. Peter and I went up and saw her in the Aberdeen Stroke Unit when we heard she was at least stabilised. Well we tried to go one weekend but that was the weekend of one of the big storms - Storm Oewyn I think - and all the trains were cancelled - so we put it off until the next weekend.

(Our train the next weekend was 4 hrs delayed and I have only just got my delay money, after 5 emails and threatening Scotrail with the Ombudsman. That's the magic word I think.)

Mum was in surprisingly good spirits, even though her right side was weak and her speech was difficult and she had a nasal feeding tube. We (only half) joked that the stroke must have hit a gloomy patch of her brain, because she was really quite chipper, and not for giving up at all.

After we left she continued to improve and was moved to Banchory rehab. Banchory, how on earth does anyone get to Banchory? I hear you ask. And well you might.

We had managed okay with using public transport up to that point, but my sister is spending the early days of her retirement haring around the Aberdeenshire countryside like a blue-arsed fly (sorry about the mixed animal metaphors) visiting my mum and her husband's parents, who all have something going on - and I don't mean just visiting but making sure they're getting the right medication, are eating, are getting washed etc...If we went up there on the train, then she'd have to take us to visit mum, adding to her list of things to do for other people, so I thought it was time to get a car again. I liked the idea of being green and keeping it clean but....

So I got a new car. By new I mean 2009. I think part of the reason it was so cheap was that the previous owner was a dog; a dog who maintained the car pretty well but has chewed the gear stick quite badly, and left his scent - which can still be detected despite three smelly trees and a can of cherry smelling substance i got off the internet.

It's stressful buying a new car. (Unless you have pots of tin.) I did my head in for about 10 days looking at all the cars and looking up their MOT history and whether they were LEZ thingummy and whether they were economical and what-not. It's not that easy looking for a car when you haven't got a car as you have to travel to go and see them - unless you buy one off the internet - which is just a step too far for me. Surely that's just asking to be ripped off? I mean I hope not but...anyway. I don't have spare cash to throw around. 

Running all this past Peter was the very devil as he's fussy, fussy. I know he won't agree. He says I jump into things. I say he takes 3 years to make his mind up. We saw a car we both liked that seemed to pretty much cover everything we needed and I was going to go and see it and - boom - it was gone, sold. OMG. 

I had seen my car at a dealers nearby - actually where I bought the Berlingo. It's just 1 mile's walk. I was worried it was too cheap and that was a bad sign. I messaged them saying could I test drive it, and they said if it was still there when I came.

I did all the things that you would do in a sitcom about getting a new car. When I got in it I didn't think the gears were working as I was revving the engine like a pill and going nowhere. It took me a little while to realise the clutch needed to come a lot further up to engage and I didn't need to step on the gas like that. I was used to the Berlingo which would stall if you didn't keep its revs up until it was warm. I didn't look over to see if the car dealer in the portacabin was laughing at me.

After tootling around the block a couple of times, and checking to see if its lights were working I thought what the heck I will buy it. I didn't bother kicking the tyres.

I had brought a laptop so I could do all the things - get new insurance, get a breakdown service, buy a parking permit. I sat in the car in the dealer's yard and did it all - but when my insurance came through I saw that it was set to start from midnight. So I walked home. And went back the next day.

Nearly finished....the next day I drove it home. Sitting outside our flat with the engine idling I saw there was a little grey box flashing on and off on the dashboard. It didn't look very worrying so almost out of idle curiosity I had a look in the manual to see what it meant. It meant YOU'RE NEARLY OUT OF FUEL YOU TWATT. I high-tailed it down to the nearest garage for petrol When I got there I parked on the wrong side - because my petrol cap is on the left! I always wondered what kind of people had their petrol cap on the wrong side like that, and now I am one of them.

Me and P took the new car for a test run to Gullane the next day. It rained so much we never got out the car and we discovered it had a very squeaky windscreen wiper, other than that it was fine though.

So the next weekend we set off back up to Aberdeenshire - this time via Banchory.

It's a tradition for me and P to run up Cairn William and Pitfichie when we go up to mum's and this time was no different. We ran up in spooky mist and the sun came out just as we got to the top.

We ran up a month ago also when mum was first in hospital, but it was much slower and more treacherous then because the paths were covered in ice.

I do love getting into the different scenery - spooky woods and heathery hills.

We did three visits in three days to mum. She is physically a lot better - moving better, talking better, no feeding tube, but she is toiling with being stuck in hospital. She just needs to get a bit stronger if she is to get home again. The staff are stretched too thin to be around for her to do practice walks very often. I think the gloom part of her brain is also recovering from her stroke. She's doing her best but she is not so light-hearted. She hates having her photo taken and she hated me taking her photo and turning her into a mouse - but we had run out of conversation.

Meanwhile Peter went full-cammo to shoot photos of blue tits in my sister's garden. It was a sunny weekend, but not quite warm enough for butterflies, apart from a Comma that I surprised which took off like a jet, never to be seen again. The frogs came out however, and so they had their photograph taken.

So what about Alloa Half Marathon? It's a whole story but I've shot my writing wad. (Sorry for being so rude.) 

I had a plan back when I entered. The race starts at 9am so I thought I'd book somewhere to stay nearby and get a nearly full night's sleep. I stayed in an airbnb a mile from the start. Peter wasn't interested in coming - no way Jose! So it was me - tout-seul. I spent a near monastic night alone with just a Domino's pizza for company.

All the organisational bits went fine but when it came to running I was just a bit knackered. I had a cough back in January and it has never fully gone away. I can't help thinking some hot sun would help.

It would have been nice to have gone under 1.50 or failing that been faster than Jedburgh - but it was neither of the above  - 2 minutes slower than Jedburgh in fact, official time 1.55.28. Despite having a Mars Bar for breakfast! Disappointing. I have to remind myself that it's not that long ago that running a half marathon seemed well out of reach.

Next race is Edinburgh to North Berwick but happily that's not for a while.

2025 is well underway already!

 OMG We're well into 2025 and the last time I wrote anything was after the XC. I have been meaning to from time to time but that didn't translate into action.

Then I got caught up trying to find a neat way to  present my photos from Tenerife in December. 

So here is a slideshow of photos from the whole 3 weeks in Tenerife....

and here is one of the Mariposario.

It seems such a long time ago. We ran a fair bit, walked a lot, took lots of photos, had slightly too much lunch beer. I did some work online.

On the night before returning we went out for dinner and had a splendid meal. I don't know if it was this or just an accumulation of all the too much I had had for the last 3 weeks but I woke up at 1am feeling truly awful. After a while it was clear I was going to be sick. Then I was sick for the rest of the night. 

At first I felt like being sick might kill me. It was just too violent, but by the end of the night I was just like a student again, I had the process down. You just have to relax into it. I had a doubled up blanket on the floor so the cold tiles in the toilet didn't hurt my knees, and another blanket slung over my back so that I didn't freeze. According to my watch I had 1 hr 15 minutes sleep, and then it was time to set off home.

The whole thing was an intensely delicate process. The whole world was a disaster. Some guy was trying to talk to me while we were standing waiting for the coach back to the airport. He was loading me up with his misery, moaning about his holiday. I could hardly look at him. Someone nearby was smoking a cigarette. It was horrific.

The fast coach back to the airport took concentration. In the airport I thought maybe I could handle a diet coke. The caffeine in my system lifted me a little bit and I was able to breathe  more freely.. It must have been a long day for PB who was fine but was under orders not to talk or move too much.

It was Xmas eve and the plane was half empty, which was a mercy. We had no 3rd person in our row, so could spread out and relax. After a while I felt like maybe I could eat something  I think I had chilli and nachos. After about an hour the whole lot came back up again but I had enough warning and poured it all into the airplane toilet with consummate ease; a red chilli fountain.

We had a debate about taxi or tram home. PB thought we might get caught in traffic and also wasn't keen on the difference between the £7 or so for the tram (for me, it's free for him) and the £30 or £40 for a taxi. I agreed with him really, I was just a bit concerned about what would happen if I was visited by another red fountain on the tram on the way home - nowhere to run, nowhere to hide....I needn't have worried, I was okay. Pretty soon we were back in our very cold flat. One of our neighbours had been doing some painting with one of these strong smelling high VOCs gloss paints, which was a pity. We opened the windows up full despite how cold it was, and wrapped ourselves in blankets to eat tea.

After that I got a cold and a cough and my lungs are still irritated now. Other than that we're getting in the swing of the year.

We've been doing plenty of running. I've signed up for Alloa half and the Edinburgh marathon so I'm slowly extending the length of my long runs. We ran 17 or 18 miles two days ago - mostly off-road, from Prestonpans to North Berwick. I was very thirsty by Gullane but we didn't have any fluids so just had to keep on keeping on. I promised myself a pint of cider in North Berwick,.and that seemed to keep me going. It might be a dangerous precedent but it was delicious cider.

Happy New Year!

Borders XC - Lauder

 I haven't been able to get Peter interested in marathons or half-marathons of late, so when he expressed an interest in doing the Borders XC series this winter, I was surprised. The only thing I gave much thought to was the logistics of getting there. We still had the Berlingo at that stage but I increasingly didn't want to push it out its comfort zone. At the last MOT it had passed, but the mechanic said that he was worried about how much rust there was underneath. He was worried that if I was to hit something, like a pot-hole, then something could break. 

I took this to heart. I was worried too! So I didn't mind bimbling along the coast at 50mph or so, but I didn't want to go on longer, wintry journeys, particularly with other people on board. As a back up plan I joined Edinburgh Car Club, so I can get a car if I need one - but the process of getting a car seems far from straightforward. I did read the instructions, but I didn't retain them all.. I think it was this. You have to find the wizard hiding behind the tree and get him to tell you the secret code for the safe which contains the car-key. When you get the car-key, you have to turn around 20 times in the street singing a high F#. Then you have to climb in the car, but don't look in the mirror, or you have to start all over again. So I'll do that if necessary, but in the meantime Steve Crane had signed up too, and he has recently got a car again! And he's a very good driver. And he lives really near us. So we asked Steve for a lift.

And so it was on a very dull Sunday morning in early November, we set out with Steve for Lauder.

Driving over Soutra, I felt more like I was in a Scandi Noir than I was on my way to a light-hearted day of cross-country. I hadn't worn my XC shoes since 2019. Peter and Steve had both done some XC more recently, but none of us are in the best shape of our lives. Just how bad was it going to be???

We got there in plenty of time before all the parking spaces filled up. We parked a bit away from the start and walked there. It was a very still day, and quite warm for November, and very grey.

When we got there we started to see people we knew - which was cheering, although it's hard to ignore how old we're all getting. Willie J had signed up but wasn't running as he's injured. I was genuinely concerned that I wasn't going to be able to run in my XC shoes. I had intended to take them out running up Arthurs Seat at some point to see if they were still alright, but never got round to it.

When I put them on and first started jogging, the angle at my ankle felt ridiculous. I'm used to big comfy shoes. Thankfully the body is remarkably adaptable and pretty soon they felt okay. 

Peter and Steve and I went a walk-jog up the hill to see what we could see of the course. It had been changed since any of us had last done it. I couldn't remember any of the course except a horrific stretch near the end on stony ground that seemed like a recipe for broken ankles. We went up this the other way and it was worse than I remembered because the fist sized stones were hidden amongst fallen leaves and there was no way to see what was under your feet. I promised myself that I'd walk over this bit if need be.

Further up the hill, it was much nicer underfoot, but it was decidedly hilly. I didn't mind this but Steve was not keen. We ran up what was to be the last downhill, and I'm glad we did because it was very nice to know in the latter stages of the actual race that we were very nearly finished.

there were a huge turnout of HBTs

Enough preamble. Soon enough it was time for the race start. Steve and I were tucked at the back and the start took a few folk by surprise. Peter had warned that it would be good to get out quickish as after the run around the field there would be a bottle-neck going down a tarmac path and overtaking would be difficult. He was right but I didn't want to overcook it too soon and did get held back at the start. I got wedged in amongst a group of HBT women - all chatting. There wasn't any easy way round so I bided my time until we went up onto the hill - then there was a lot more scope for moving through. The details blur about what was there but I think it was a game of two hills. At the top of the first hill it stayed high and ran over undulating moorland on a good path. I was working too hard to truly enjoy it, but I was as near as you can come in a race. I was wearing Salomon Speedcross (so were Peter and Steve too, by sheer coincidence) and the grip was superb. On a muddy downhill where I wouldn't expect to do well I found myself overtaking others in less aggressive footwear.

There was a wide and deep river crossing and then quite a sharp uphill immediately afterwards. This was the only place I walked. My lungs were bursting so I thought I'd try walking for 50 and running for 50 to get my heart rate down. After walking for 50 the terrain was levelling out and much as I wanted to I didn't feel I could justify any more walking, so I just kept on slogging on. 

There was a nasty last climb - a sting in the tail - but because we had reccied the end section I knew it was genuinely all downhill after that and I was able to keep going.

I was still keeping in mind the path of hidden stones, but when I got there, so many people had already run over it that it was much easier to see where the stones were and although I had to slow down it wasn't as catastrophic as I'd thought it might be. Then there was a final run of the field to the finish - a lung-busting final effort and over the finish line. Hurray. Still alive!

We met up with some other Porties we'd never met before and had our picture taken.

Not a huge turn out for the club - but there were a lot of races on that day.

So that was that! I think the headline for this is "some oldies survive the cross-country!". Well I haven't seen Steve since, but hopefully he's okay! 

Jedburgh Half Marathon

It's probably not a coincidence that the Jedburgh Half is in the morning after the clocks have gone back, so although I had to get up at 6am, biologically it was only 7. I'd arranged to get a bus and meet Aileen in Portobello so she could drive us the rest of the way to the race.  I didn't love the long stretch of time between getting up and racing - it's hard to mete out your energy and figure out what to eat and when.

It was good to catch up with Aileen on the drive down though. I've not seen her for any length of time since the pre-pandemic days. What a waste of good running time - two pandemic years and then three years of injuries. Like a bad spell. This was to be my first real post-pandemic race anyway, so maybe the spell was broken. I say "real" race because everyone knows parkrun is a race; or it should be - but the official line is that it's not. Just friends holding each others' hands. Just a sympathetic walk.

I think a major theme of our chat on the way down was how old we were getting - and everyone else too, and the growing threat of all kinds of horrible illnesses. It's hard to ignore. We chatted about cars too. I finally sold the Berlingo the other day; the stress and expense of keeping it outweighing the benefits of having it. It was a little heart-wrenching though. As I took it out for its last tour of duty I noticed its wing-mirrors were sporting not one but two fine cobwebs. A nest of moss snuggled in on the window rims. At the same time I was relieved to make it all the way to the Asda carpark down at Granton without any incidents. Nobody mentioned the scrappies as the boy was assessing the Berlingo's worth, but it's hard to imagine that it's getting sold on to anyone.

This was me signing The Berlingo over. 

The 'WeBuyAnyCar' chap was nice and told me the Berlingo was a year older than he was.

In the end it was evaluated as being worth £112, but with a £50 admin fee, I walked away with £62.

It cost £3000 in 2009 so I had it for 15 years- just £200 a year. Bargain! Well that's if you don't count the other things; tax and insurance and diesel and parking and repairs.

We got to Jedburgh with plenty of time to spare so we hid in the car as long as we could. It was a bit chilly outside and the weather forecast had showed a stiffish south-westerly wind; which would mean a head-wind on the way back. We got round to talking about times and paces - what were we going to try to do today? Aileen has also been injured for much of the year, so she was being cautious. Both of us thought we could get under 2 hours. Neither of us thought we could break 1h 50. Under 1h 55 would be good. About 20 minutes before the race we got out and started warming up.

There were a smattering of other Porties. I knew who Mark Upward was, but not anyone else - except Mitchell Fraser - I know him but never saw him.

Enough preamble. We were piped to the start like haggises, and eventually we set off.

One of the things Aileen and I had talked about in the car was the importance of not overcooking it to start with. There were a lot of people but there was not very much space so I spent the first mile weaving in and out of people. The half marathon and 10k start together and so there were a variety of people with different levels of ambition and ability - by which I mean there were 5 or 6 people in matching outfits completely blocking the road ahead while running and chatting as if they had all day. Schoolboy error. I never start at the back if I can help it for just this reason, but Aileen and I had started in the last 3 lines of people. It makes sense on paper to start well back but in reality, losing time unnecessarily so early on feels intolerable.

There were a few uphills and downhills and soon enough I had some clearer space around me and I could go at my own pace. I had hoped to feel relatively comfortable in the first couple of miles. 8.40 pace would be good enough, 8.20 would be pushing my luck. The first mile went by in 8.22. At the top of a hill a bit later I sensed Aileen just behind me. As she drew even I said (gasped) to her "Aileen I think I've already over-cooked it", and just at that moment my watch beeped and showed me I'd run the 2nd mile in 8 minutes dead. The old fool contains the young fool. There's no getting away from it.

We were running around the same pace, but I was uncomfortable and although loathe to let go, just thought I needed to. I let myself drop back just a little bit, trying to focus on what was going on inside rather than get caught up in where others were in the race. Over a number of miles Aileen got maybe 200m away. There's a point at which the course doubles back on the other side of some trees - maybe around the 6 mile mark. We waved through the trees.

Later she stopped and walked at a water station, but I'd had water earlier so I ran on at that point. There was a long wide road and I was focusing on trying to find the most level bit of tarmac to run on and trying not to think anything. I've run this race twice before but I can't say I remembered any of the course at all. In the distance I saw that we were going to turn up a hill and then further along the road I could see Kathly Henly running up the road towards me. I gave her a wave and wondered just how far ahead she was.

The route turned right and up, along and then back down onto the main road, and Aileen told me later, went past a church, although I never saw a church. I don't know what I was looking at. Probably my feet. Round about the top of the downhill I think, Aileen went past me again.  Back on the main road the headwind began in earnest. It's a bleak thing running into a headwind on a wide road on a grey day in a race. I was careful not to think anything about distance or time to go or any of that. I let my mind sing songs to itself and kept on keeping on. Some miles up this road I saw that I was drawing nearer to Aileen again. I had two dextrose tablets wrapped in silver paper so I had them at the next water stop. I'd read something about them being easier to assimilate than gels. Gels had stopped doing it for me years ago, so it was worth a try. I think they likely did help although there was no miraculous boost in performance.

At some point, round about 9 miles maybe, I went past Aileen again and didn't see her until the end.

Now I knew I was doing alright. I didn't know exactly what my average pace was up to that point but I knew I was on for the low 1h 50s if I could just not drop the ball at this stage. Having said that, there were challenges. There was a head-wind, there was a long hill and I was tired. At 11 miles I remembered that Stuart Hay had said that the last 2 miles were pretty much downhill. I was near the crest of a hill so that gave me hope that relief would come soon. It wasn't easy running the downhills though. The pavement was narrow and it was on quite a fast road. The cars flying by were making me nervous because I was spaced out and my legs were a bit wobbly. I passed a couple of runners who were doggedly holding to the centre of the pavement so I had to go round them and risk pitching head-long into traffic - or so I feared. My ribs hurt, which was a new one on me. I had no idea why but they did, and I didn't want to breathe in too hard in case I set off some kind of cramp or rigor mortis that would take me out at this late stage. In the last mile, sadly, not one, but two women went past me, and I didn't have any response (although I think I actually beat the 2nd one because I had started so far back at the start of the race - chip time revenge). The finish came at last and I was glad to stop.

I got a medal and a bottle of water and a toffee crisp.

Aileen crossed the line not long after. She got a toffee crisp and a snickers bar. She said the ladies had told her to take as many as she liked. No-one said that to me!! We joked that it was because they thought I was fat enough already. There's a cruelty to this running business.

There was a winners podium so I asked a young man in an anorak if he could take a picture of me and Aileen.. I think he was maybe a bit hypothermic because it took a surprising amount of coaching to get him to take the picture, and then it was all squint and you can't see the winner's steps, which was the whole point. Aileen said I'd confused him by asking him to take a photograph with a camera and maybe she had a point

Emm, this was on some steps.

So..........then we went and had a cup of tea in the car and drove home. I am tremendously proud. We are signed up for the Edinburgh Marathon next year but Aileen is deeply unsure. I tried to tell her that the training would be good and she let me know she wasn't sure that it would be. God knows she is likely right.

Thanks to The Jedburgh Running Festival people for a well-organized race with lovely marshals.

results down the page here