Another weekend gone

Where did it all go? Whilst England enjoys the last few days of the school holidays and their own bank holiday weekend, Scotland is 2 weeks back into the daily grind of school and work, and the next bank holiday is not until mid September. This weekend saw the start back for most of the sports clubs, which means being a taxi for the weekend.
Saturday morning started early with Emma returning from her run trying to find the owners of one of those Lassie type dogs she'd found wandering around on the dual carriage way. The police dealt with it. Then it was a quick dash to Edinburgh to George Watsons School where kids are special (around £2900 a term sort of special) for Isabelle's game of hockey. Needless to say the Watson's lot won. The main difference between them and Dunbar was that they 1. Know the rules of hockey 2. Watson's have teachers who are sent to the tower if they don't get results, as opposed to Dunbar who don't have a teacher at all, but a team of dedicated volunteers 3. That they know how to play hockey from a young age at Watsons whereas Dunbar started it in S1 but had more games cancelled than played. These minor set backs are soon to be overcome. Emma is joining forces with some of the other mums to coach the girls and it seems that there is a bit more enthusiasm all round.
Straight from Watson's, we went to Dalkieth for an afternoon of athletics. The East Lothian competition is a good way of giving the younger kids a try at the sport, and for local experienced athletes a chance to out do each other. The problem with athletics is that your event is over and done really quickly, so it can be hours of waiting around for 20 seconds of sport. Frustrating but I am not sure how else it can be done.
Today was another early start as Andrew's football team have moved up to the higher level of the Edinburgh football league. The games were always going to be tougher so it was encouraging to see Dunbar make an early 2-0 lead over the Spartans. Sadly this changed quite a bit and by the end of the match it had been turned around to a 7-4 lose. That score line only reflected the poor performance of the last 15 minutes, so I don't think they should be too down. Andrew got man of the match for his 2 goals so it was a good trip really. Finally, I am following my marathon training to the letter, so to round off I did my 12 mile run, followed by watching the Titanic. Watching the Titanic is not part of the training, but it is Andrew's homework as they are dong a project on it. The scene where Kate Winslet gets her buoyancy aids out is obviously not suitable for a class of sniggering 11 year olds.

It's the dogs....

Took Trefor to the vets for his annual booster jag and she traumatised us all with the suggestion that we get him castrated. With a straight face, in earshot of the dog himself she said that they find 'removing their testicles reduces their sexual aggression and prevents a number of illnesses'. Now I am no dog psychologists, but I should think that removing anyones testicles is going to reduce their sexual aggression. As well meaning as she was I think he can keep them for a while longer...what else is he going to lick? And she might be well meaning, but at a price..specifically the 'prices starting at £123. I wonder if that is for the pair, or a BOGOF offer? Also does size increase the cost? For example is the 'starting from' for one of those horrible yappy things with a pair of kumquats, and does Trefor's plums cost more than that, if so I feel sorry for any Great Dane owners who might have to shell out a small fortune for the de-stoning of their avocado's.

Warning 'Wet Paint'

If only dogs could read...or have the common sense not to walk through a tray of magnolia paint. Trefor decided to assist my effort to get the house looking clean by doing just that. Fortunatley he was heading to the garden so it is only the garden path and the lawn that have lovely paw prints all over them.

Village Show

Just back from the Oldhamstocks Flower Show. This is a family favourite. The village is all but a few houses, farms and a church, but each year they put on a good flower show. I have never entered the show because I don't grow anything other than weeds. I am hoping that next year, with 'Patch's' assistance we will have some good organic produce to submit. It's all the traditional marrow, runner beans, jams, etc. I go for the race. It's supposed to be a fell run but it's always too wet for the kids so they keep it on the road on a 1.5mile (approx) course. Andrew joined me this year and with a small field entering, and more importantly none of the fast runners from the club, I was in with a chance. In fact I managed to win it, and Andrew got first in his age, so between us we took home a trophy and £35 for our efforts. Stuart was also in the money when he won £2 for the tug o war, and 56p and 2 humbugs for the game where they throw loads of sweets and loose change in the air and the kids have to grab what they can. Afterwards we spent the afternoon at friends in the village, with a few beers and a barbecue. A good day indeed.

Photo: Victory at last. In all my years of running this is my only first prize..helped by a small field of one legged runners with no sense of direction. See them in action here

Summer in Swaledale

Our summer holidays took us to York for a few days with Sarah & Rob. We managed to plunder most of the great charity shops in Acomb (forget York just head for the home of the genetically challenged just a few miles out). I also met up with Dave Tew who I have known for yonks through the Criccieth camps. He joined me for a run along the Ouse that ended up being 12 miles. It was good to catch up and run. We also saw Julie & Matt who I have not seen for 3 years or since they became parents. Good to see them too and have a quick catch up and see their boy Joshua.

Having purchased a Liddl's special offer tent, we decided to head to Swaledale in Yorkshire for a family holiday. It's not far from the army base of Catterick, so it was alarming, but exciting to find ourselves driving through a firing range and tank range. The soldiers were there firing away, fortunately not at us. Swaledale is much less a tourist trap than Wensleydale. For a start off the roads are too narrow or steep for caravans. It is very scenic with loads of stone buildings left untouched, and miles of great hills. We found Mr Rukins Farm in the village of Keld where we stayed. He was a typical ruddy faced farmer who could not understand why anyone would want to camp in the rain. There was a choice of lower, middle or upper fields. The lower one had a river by it but he warned us that by the weekend the whole world would be wanting to camp there. We opted for the middle one, and he was right, by weekend there were hundreds of people squashed in by the river. It was a good river though, with great waterfalls, a rope swing and pools to entertain the kids. Camping to me is all about doing what you want when. A fire is a must and so is wearing the same clothes all week! The farmer brought us a fire pit and wood, so that was the fire sorted. It took Isabelle and Andrew 24 hours to realise that they had to provide their own entertainment. I gave Andrew a pen knife and he was soon happy whittling bits of wood, whereas Isabelle's pyromaniac streak came out, as she took charge of the fire, burning anything she could.

The scenery was great and I got out for a good run along the Pennine Way to Muker, and back via the Corpse's Trail. There was loads of wildlife out. The lapwings were good to watch and there were some other birds I can't remember the names of so i will have to dig out my AA Bird Book. The best sight on that run was a stoat that had a rabbit under its spell. It ran off when it saw me, but the rabbit was hypnotised and stood still in a trance. On another run along the Pennine Way I headed off for a short run to who knows where? in the moors. I think I saw a pair of Peregrines and after about 4 or 5 miles I could see a building in the distance on the moors. When I reached it I discovered it was a pub...the highest in England and is called The Tan Hill Inn. Unfortunately I had no cash on me so I just had to miss the pint of Theakston's and run back. Mind, I wouldn't fancy trying to run anywhere after a pint of Theakston's!

Whilst we were at Swaledale, Stuart was on the Explorer Camp at Wensleydale so we made a couple of visits there. I gave them a hand putting up the marquee and again had time to see old friends. One surprise was Kev Church who I had not seen since he was a boy, and is now a bearded man. Talking of which, I'd forgotten my razor, so by the end of the week I was looking a bit rough with my grey whiskers. I did shower though as the camp site had the best showers ever. Will we go back? I hope so, but I think Emma is planning on going to Spain next year for a beach holiday. I have only ever done a beach holiday once before and it was boring. All there was to do was sit on the beach because it was too hot. I burnt my feet on the first day and had to wander around in my socks and sandals looking like a total geek. I'm in no rush to return....give me a field anytime!

Photo's: The campsite where we stayed in Keld
The waterfalls and river at the campsite were pretty spectacular
Looking rough after 3 days without a shave
Isabelle burning some more stuff

A Hot Half

The training for the Loch Ness Marathon is a stop start affair. It starts and then we go on holiday, or I have to work silly hours in the summer leaving no obvious block in the day to go for a long run. That's why when a local race like the Haddington Half Marathon comes up I try and get along to double up supporting local clubs with a training run for the marathon.
I had no idea how I would get on, but was hoping for around 90 minutes after last years disaster of 1:35 where I got cramp. I had a plan of running at 6.45 pace but once the gun goes off I always get sucked into a fast first few miles (6.16 for the first). It was a hot and humid day but fortunately the club had put on loads of watering stations. At around 11 miles the heat was getting pretty bad and I was feeling faint, but another watering station saved the day. I was still picking off runners but then a few others caught me in the last mile or so. I finally finished 25th with a respectable 1:29:03 but I was very hot and feeling light headed. A few of the many sarnies and biscuits put on by the club sorted that out, and I went home feeling better about the my training. I nearly cracked my PB for that distance, but then as people pointed out, it is not a PB course as there are plenty of hills, not big ones, but enough to knacker your legs out. The club won the women's team prize so it was a good day out.

Photo (nicked from S.Hay): Hot and bothered after a good run.

R.I.P Sammy or do I mean Patch

Spent the night digging a hole with the lads. You've guessed it, another pet has snuffed. This time it was the turn of Sammy the rabbit. I noticed him sneezing this afternoon and by tea time he was gasping for air. A quick look at rabbit illness on the great authority of Google and it looked like he had all the symptoms of rabbit pneumonia, with the exception of anorexia, which is one of the tell tale signs. Pause for thought there and allow that image of an annorexic rabbit sink in! Anyway he was in a bad way and I was ready to visit the vets in the morning if things didn't improve. No need to bother, as in the time it took me to make a cup of tea, Sammy had gone to that big carrot field in the sky.

The boys were very good and dealing with it and dug a big hole and buried him. And there he lies, forming the foundations of next springs project, a vegetable patch.

Carry on Camping

Through my work with the churches & Scripture Union I spend a lot of time in the summer at Christian Camps. I have also been involved in them for donkeys years as a kid and in running them. Again I feel the need to justify them as 'religious' camps are so often misunderstood and criticised (deservedly sometimes although not in the case of any I am associated with). The camps are up front about their faith base, so people usually go expecting some sort of 'God slot'. That's what they get, but I think they are more geared to encouraging people to ask questions about faith, themselves and their existence. They present Christianity as the right choice, but I don't think they overstep the mark and try to brainwash or force it. So for me as a kid I came back from the camps accepting Christianity because I could see through the Christians there that it was a the best choice, rater than making that decision out of fear of hell, fire and damnation!

I have therefore found myself challenged by the opening of the first so called 'atheist camp' in the UK. It strongly denies it is anti religious, but has a strong humanist value base and promotes free thinking. Would I send my kid to a camp like that? Well if it's true to its word i shouldn't have any concerns. But people are people and all of us find it hard to remain impartial when it comes to the things important to us. Listening to the camp leaders on the radio I just got a sense of slight bitterness coming through, that perhaps the church had failed him earlier in life. They do this thing where the kids are told the story of a good and bad unicorn that has been passed through the generations. The challenge is to prove they exist, and presumably because no kid will ever succeed then that must mean God doesn't exist either! It's a very weak argument as it completely bypasses the central part of all religions...faith. It's irrational, but it's what 'religious' people build their lives around. Anyway, just to dispel any ideas that my camps brainwash people, I was interested to hear through Facebook that a girl from our camp has become the chair of the atheist society at university.

To add a lighter note to this heavy stuff, here is comedian David Mitchell's thoughts on the matter.


This year, the greatest pity must surely be reserved for the 24 eight- to 17-year-olds being packed off to the Richard Dawkins-supported atheists' camp in Somerset.

For them, the usual trekking and canoeing will be supplemented by sessions on rational scepticism and evolutionary biology, and group singing of "Imagine". Jesus Christ. Try telling them that there's no such thing as purgatory after that.

It must be weird for those kids, growing up with parents so insistent that they keep an open mind. Those brought up to be devoutly religious often kick against it. Maybe we can look forward to a new generation of archbishops, radical imams and cult leaders emerging from the camp's alumni?

Anything is better than their reaching adulthood telling their peers: "I was brought up to question everything, so I do."

But how are busy parents supposed to keep their kids out of both their hair and trouble over a hot summer? Here are a few other new schemes for independent-minded families:

Conspiracy Theorists' Camp - For children of parents who believe in questioning everything, including what is self-evidently true.

"We'll be spending a week in the shadow of Sellafield nuclear processing plant (it's where THEY don't want us to go - this way we're off the grid). After scanning everyone for subdermal microchips, we'll hold sessions on why no one has landed on the moon, why Princess Diana was both murdered and is not dead, and how there's a prophesy about 9/11 on the back of the Turin shroud. Also hiking. Bring cagoules."

Spirituality Camp - For children of parents who believe in being open to everything, including what is self-evidently bullshit.

"Join us for a week of exploration in the New Forest! As well as seeking out crystal skulls and listening for flower spirits, we'll be discussing and enthusing about hundreds of sincerely held sets of belief. From reflexology to astrology, from ghosts to homeopathy, from wheat intolerance to 'having a bad feeling about this', we'll be celebrating all the wild and wonderful sets of conclusions to which people the world over are jumping to fill the gap left by the retreat of organised religion."

Return to Herriot Country

Photo: Nicked from one of the clubs newsletter but I can't remember which one. Anyway, somewhere in that lot is me & Emma & Bruce!

There are rumours that I am converting to the Yorkshire given that I several of my trips away from Dunbar this year have been in the homeland of amongst others,John Craven. We were there on a family holiday camping in Swaledale (more on that when I get my photo's to illustrate it). It just happened to be at the same time as the James Herriot Country 14km Trail Run that I did last year. So I persuaded Emma to join us this time and enjoy a good entry level fell run. It's a long climb up for the first mile or so but at the top there are some great views to make up for the pain. My asthma is particularly bad this summer and it is taking me a long time to get my lungs warmed up. Until they are it is a struggle but then the inhaler kicks in and I'm okay. So in race terms that was at about 6km when I was starting the first descent. Thundering behind me and past me was some chunky bloke who looked about 6 heavier than us light weight runners. 'Bruce' was his name and became my target for the next bit which was up hill...a big hill at that. I passed him and then spotted a woman who I knew must have been one of 3 ahead of me. She was hard to catch but for some reason she decided to stop for a drink with just over a mile to go. But then 'Big Bruce' reappeared and flew past me again. I tried to get him but the legs were now going all wobbly and I had to let him go, but picked off a few more in the effort. The good news was I finished 2 minutes faster than last year in just under 66 minutes, but 2 places less, indicating everyone else was faster too. Emma also had a good race finishing in 77 minutes, which was pretty good, especially for a first fell run. The finishing areas was in a cow field, and the cows came and joined in the presentations, depositing their gifts that I quickly stood in. Bruce came and shook hands and I did my bit for encouraging asthmatics to do sport, as his asthmatic lad spotted my inhaler tied to my belt and was intrigued as to how I could run with asthma. So not a bad day.