Training schedule skuppered....

A quick visit to the osteopath on Friday turned out to be, well, a not very quick visit after all as Donald patiently got to grips with my mysterious jaw ache ( apparently coming from my neck) and did that clicky twisting thing that leaves a weird but not painful sensation behind it. As he is examining areas such as neck, back etc there are clues that I have learnt to tune in on in preparation i.e a positioning of my head to one side and the notable absence of those reassuring words "it is okay, I am not going to do anything" mean there is a clicky clicky moment coming up. From that realization onwards my job is to tense up all muscles in preparation and his job is to get in there with the adjustment a microsecond before that happens. Easy really. Anyway the neck is much improved but my much bashed around right knee that I mentioned in passing has been diagnosed as something I cannot pronounce nor remember. A few key words have stuck in my sieve like memory "split" " Patella" "tendon damage" "bandage" and most terrifying of all a practical demonstration of how the knee cap is grinding on all below it.
The following is me feebly trying to maintain some kind of fitness regime.

"So, will it make it worse to run on it?"
"Of course it will but that will not stop you so here is how to bandage it"

Then off he scuttles next door to relieve Garret of his stiff hip and spills my beans (so much for patient confidentiality) so now I am banned from running for a week. I reckon this is only so Garret who has upped his training can look good at the triathlon....still I do have a good excuse now. Methinks that words like "split" "patella" and possibly "tendon damage" may well be bandied around at the end of the month plus I will look a hero taking part at all......In revenge I left Garret to pay every cloud, silver linings and all that.

Saturday 6th September. The Dalmally show

At the tag end of the highland Games season the agricultural shows start. Where the Highland Games are Scottish to the core the agricultural show is British through and through reveling in a farming heritage that, despite the pressures and demands of the modern world still has grown men leaning on crooks and extolling the virtues of one beast be it bull or bantam against another. They are so timeless with their tents full of exhibits hoping to make that red rosette with the beautifully skilled being admired alongside the eternally hopeful. The weather was perfect for The Dalmally show this year and with no threat of Foot and Mouth etc to daunt it. We duly admired the Champion Bull, the chickens and ducks (we gravely discussed how one of our ducks would have beaten them all) and entered the dogs in the dog show. This is a rural delight so seriously taken by all from judges through competitors and audience. Goodness only knows what the former were looking for, and Lucy did not think much of this kind of walk...first you are brushed and titivated and them you go for a walk on a lead round and round in a big circle. They did get to have a go on the dog demonstration set up where they jump over wee hurdles and then catch a ball AKA Crufts and then run back. They showed more willingness than skill and entertained the audience...who wants to watch a flawless performance anyway. The duck race in the river did not fail in entertainment value either as the little bobbling ducks helped by the wind declined to bob in the direction of the winning net stretched across the river. Enter stage right children and dogs to swoosh them on their way with great humour and patience. After that a candy floss eating competition i.e get it down you fast before you get in my car.....Once mixed with the still clinging mud from last week end and we may never get the seats clean.

Starry, Starry Night and the Light Fantasic.

At this time of year the darkening evenings are made more evident by the need to lock the birds up before the light drops to a certain level. At the moment this is about 8.15pm but by mid winter will be 4ish. Tonight I was on my ownesome with no one to try to persuade into accompanying me with the result that Mr Pig caused me a few problems as he was trying to get into the Hen House at the same time as I was trying to chivvy an errant hen in through the only open door. He luckily responds to a tap on the snout, luckily as he must weigh almost as much if not more than me. The earlier time means that the dogs get their walk later on which tonight was a pleasure,the afternoon drizzle has cleared beautifully and the stars are magically bright and clear above us. The effect is slightly marred, or enhanced depending on your view point by the bright lights of the Connect Festival 4 miles away to the west. It is quite a contrast depending on a turn of your head. Both my boys are there amongst the excitement tonight. Toby, predictably after having been told to text me every two hours has managed just one which bizarrely said "yes". Garret did manage a bit more contact with one phone call, battling against a dodgy connection and the noise with the news that he had caught a glimpse of son and heir and he is having fun...hmmmmmmmm.
I am official taxi driver tonight so Garret can give a considered opinion on the Loch Fyne Whisky on offer (amongst other things). This for a girl who likes to be asleep by 10pm is more of a sacrifice than most would imagine.I have done all the jobs and even brushed my teeth so as to save time between killing the car engine and sleepy time, I did contemplate putting on my dressing gown and pink slippers but best not. Toby would never forgive me (will be taxing various mates home too I suspect).

Connect etc.

The multi coloured welly brigade have arrived in Inveraray with the usual capacity of the town being swelled by the Hydro Connect festival goers. Garret managed to wangle a free ticket, last night he went down and after an hour or so phoned home...a lone sober man in a sea of drinkers. However once he had stood next to Amy MacDonald's mum....her actual mum he cheered up a bit.Everyone seems very happy with it, and I am happy to be at home so all is well. We have a houseful of lovely happy festival goers so that is even better.

Run total 16miles....did a 3 mile or so with Liz on Friday, more of a wade through very wet ground but we did trog along as best we could. She is still on a high from her phenomenal 1hr58mins 1/2 marathon on Coll.

Mud, Mud ,Glorious mud

Waved off another happy band of holiday makers this am...actually I sort of raised a muddy hand in their direction as they watched me floundering across the mud to feed Mrs Pig and the three little pigs. I could tell which was mud and which was pig because the pig shaped bits of mud were rushing towards me and my bucket oinking their opinion on the 12hrly feeding regime. So, the first Connectors arrive tonight and more tomorrow. The supermarkets in Inveraray seem to have become exclusive alcohol emporiums, mainly beer and vodka so some good deals to be had next week then, alas that they are the two kinds of demon drink that I cannot take to. Quick impromptu run this afternoon after my cycle training came to an abrupt end with an inappropriate gear change whilst on the trainer. I can put the kids chains back on but after 10 minutes of achieving nothing more that an oil hand pack I decided to leave it for those more skilled in the area of bike maintenance than myself.
Running total creeping up 13miles

Wednesday night aches and pains.

Another Wednesday night run, this time no Garret who is working in Glasgow. To say that my legs are aching is to...lets think of a good one, ahh yes, is to say that the Earth is really quite big. Ow,ow and ow!!! A fast, or so it seemed clamber around some bogs, a loch and some rooty paths and the last mile round a small Lochan. The speed was set by Peter with legs about twice the length of mine and clearly the capability for more speed as he chatted to Bill and me over his shoulder most of the way. I managed quite well until the last mile and then floated along in their wake foccussing mainly on the pain in my legs.....homeward bound I received several messages from Toby about the Oban Games tomorrow and arrangements for getting there. In the parallel universe in which he dwells with the Potato men and pink fluffy clouds it was possible for me to be here cooking breakfasts for 6, and the girls and be driving him to Oban. The beds, as always would be made by a flash of my magic wand whilst the bathroom pixies clean the bathrooms and kitchen etc....actually I would like to live there too. So therefore, Garret will be going to Oban tomorrow.
Run total 9

PS Car we went to see AWFUL so sticking with the devil we know for now......

Another rainy bank holiday

With Bank Holiday Monday nearly over the skies have cleared enough to allow Toby to hoover all the accumulated gubbins out the courtesy car. We are swapping it tomorrow for our useless ****** Peugeot 807 that looks like costing a ton of money for the priviledge of passing its very first MOT. Then we are going looking for a new car....surprise surprise.
I am hoping that all our dutch guests from the w/e made it home safely, one couple paid sorely for a long lie as they slept through their alarm missing their flight to New York.Obviously the beds are too comfortable...hint hint.