Une autre semaine de confinement.

Why the french? Why anything?

Another week. Hungin oot the window.

Avoiding Arthur's Seat because Covids.

 

 

 

Saturday comes around and Peter announces he wants to run 17 miles. Hmmm, okay. We're both tired so the coffee pot goes on twice. For a while everything is marvelous. I see that in the shadow of my bike, miraculously, the bike has a rider! I take a photograph! I point it out to Peter. He sees it too and gets his camera!

Wow! 

I'm in charge of the route. It's necessary to think out of the box at the moment, because everything inside the box is full of Covids. The A70. There won't be many people out for a scenic stroll along the pavements of the A70.

So off we go, first of all taking a good look around the centre of town. Peter took some good photos of that but I only had my weenie camera so I didn't. I held back and took pictures later on, more to tell the story.

We headed out along Dalry Road, dipping into Dalry Cemetery and then North Merchiston Cemetery further on. Pierre was in pursuit of les papillons. There was only the odd white. I don't know if they were large, small or green veined. We had some socially distanced relations with a fat spaniel, a very vocal robin, and a small rotund gentleman with a carefully groomed beard. Well Peter was taking a picture of the robin in the tree, and the chap said "nice picture" as he passed. "I think we're being told off" I quipped, referring to the vociferous robin, and the man laughed appreciatively. I gave myself a pat on the back for my deep appreciation of nature and understanding that the robin, far from its jovial Christmas Card reputation, is actually only into fucking and fighting.  

I had already had some to and fro with the chubby spaniel as it did that dog thing where it comes near you but doesn't admit it has seen you. It was panting hard having heaved its plump little body up the hill in a hurry, so I made comical panting noises back at it. Then I saw the owner and stopped.

By the time we left the graveyard I felt partied out to be honest.

 

As we headed along the A70, Peter pointed out that we were passing the home of renowned Trig Pointer JH. I thought it was only right to have a bit of a point in homage.

The team got grumpier along the way. Peter likes to use my tip-top planning skills but then rebels a bit at the inflexibility of these excellent plans. He persuaded me to go off piste a bit and actually run past the house of another friend - not recorded here. For the social distancing daleks out there, I emphasise that I mean we literally "ran past the house". Quite soon however I could see my plans being stretched and pulled all out of shape and I returned to my desired direction. There was protest from the other one. My lockdown chum.

Then going along another road, Peter remarked that this was the road where Richard, Christina and Ben live, and then as if by magic, they appeared on the other side of the road! 

From Fairmilehead we turned back down into the centre of town. Someone grumbled about how we weren't going to make up the distance and were we going to be doing laps of Arthur's Seat? I patiently explained that he had no idea what he was talking about.

I agree. Cockit All.

I was thinking about marketing a "choose your own street performer" virtual festival. Too lazy to show you what I mean though. Use your imagination.

 

 

One last stop up at the Castle and we made our way home, having run just a little more than 17 miles.

I'm off for another 7 now.

Great Virtual Race Across Tennessee 1000K probably part 1

One day on Facebook I saw that Lazarus Lake, who usually organises the Barkley Marathons, had decided to create a virtual 4 month race across Tennessee. It was 1000K and my initial thoughts were that that was easy, about what I usually do, so what would be the point of spending $60 to join in?

2 days later my inner enthusiast had got the upper hand and I had signed up. There would be lists! There would be graphs and a t-shirt! It wouldn't even be that much of a challenge - if I just chugged on as I usually do I should make it with time to spare. What's not to like? So now all the time while I'm out running I am also running across Tennessee. Here are some pictures of what I've seen so far.

I've had a week off work. I was supposed to be in Tenerife, so I've been putting in the miles and I'm way past Memphis. The map above shows me yesterday. I've done another 6 miles today though. You log your own miles, so it's an honour system.

The organisers were anticipating a couple of hundred runners and didn't cap it, so imagine their surprise when they found that 16,000+ runners have entered. I initially didn't know why I was paying $60 to do something I'd be doing anyway, (apart from for a tee-shirt and some graphs) but now I'm glad I did. The Facebook page is lively and the organisers are using the fact it's all so busy to spread some good around, so they're ordering buckles for all the finishers, which as they point out means a couple of guys are working who would otherwise not be, the States being under lock-down as are we. Some people are taking it seriously and someone has already made it half way. Other people are taking it seriously in that it is a big challenge for them. They've never done that kind of mileage before. Some people are seriously in danger of injuring themselves or burning out, in fact, as they are already digging deep and struggling mentally to do mileage which seems fairly moderate to me, and I'm no kind of ultra-runner. I tried telling them to take it easy but I don't think it was very welcome.

I've been enjoying pictures of nice trails in other countries. Everybody else's trail always looks that bit more exciting. I got a huge response to posting pictures of a trip to the Pentlands, and at the same time I got Benfered.

I'd heard of Jane Benfer while browsing aimlessly around running sites on the web. She is an infamous American ultra-running community troll, who accuses people of posting fake results and faking Strava data by taping their Garmins to their cars and then driving at 10mph. According to this guy  Jane Benfer is an alias and she is actually an ex-runner called Risa Reid, with her last recorded marathon time a very respectable  2.51.  Some people say it is sad and she is mentally ill, and other people say she is bad and should be brought to justice, while other people seem to just enjoy her input as another quirky oddity in the odd world of ultra-marathoning. I never imagined in my life that I would be important enough to be Benfered. Imagine my excitement to get a laughing face, hover over it and see that it had been put there by the twisted legend herself.

I feel I have arrived. I am fake news with my Pentlands and my Highland Cows.

I got Benfered again for posting a picture of my medal pole. Well technically it's Peter and I's medal pole. Would you like to see my big pole? Of course you would. 

This chap got a huge response from the Americans, and a laughing face from Jane Benfer. 

"

"How did you get to the Pentlands anyway?" I hear you ask. You are asking it in the same voice as the wee dafter younger brother of the two guys who are in an ice-cream van in Chewing the Fat. 

I will tell you how I got to the Pentlands anyway. I ran there and ran back and it meant just dipping my toe in because I'm not fit enough for a 12 mile return trip AND  a big hill run. I am LONGING to get out of Edinburgh and PRAYING for Boris to extend the exercising rules so I feel I can legitimately cycle to the Pentlands and then go a jolly long run without fear of censor. Arthur's Seat is hoaching with people now and its unspoiled beauty is largely spoiled by people, people everywhere, people with headphones in, talking on phones, waving their arms around, talking about NICOLA, talking about THE ENGLISH, talking about BORIS, talking about LOCKDOWN, talking about THE RULES.

IN THE NAME OF THE WEE MAN SAY SOMETHING INTERESTING.

At night there is some entertainment to be had hanging out of the window and taking pictures of the moon.

Yesterday I wanted to go a longer run. I wanted to get out of Memphis and I wanted to encounter a minimum of people. There weren't too many people because who in their right minds would go a walk or a run out the Ferry Road to the Maybury Roundabout and back via St John's Road through Corstorphine?? There weren't many people but there are a lot of cars back on the road so swerving out to avoid people is no longer really as viable as it was. The highlight of the run was finding a wee ducky finger-puppet, and even at the risk of catching the COV I had to have it.

Yup, that's it.