Crunchy ‘Nanas

Rewind technology and you get to the here and now. Today. As it could have been thousands of years ago. Or, at least thousands of years ago across the Channel. And without the traffic sounds in the distance and the wire fencing. Or me snapping images with my digital camera while riding my mountain bike along the well-developed National Cycle route 15.

Across the world, McDonald’s is busy with plans to hook up cashless customers with Big Macs and Egg McMuffins paid for through their cell phones. But here, the Konic ponies take me back to the past while preserving biodiversity for my future. Relatives of the now extinct ancient European wild horse, these 21st century equines chew quietly out in the field, munching the way to an environment where native species of plants, animals and insects can thrive. Where the John Deere would sink into the muck, the friendly-faced ponies graze peacefully, unaware of their duties, but performing them well all the same.

Thanks, ponies!

Tuesday’s run

Distance: 3.2 miles
Time: 29:47
Pace: 9:18 min/mile

Today’s ride

Time: 1:35:00 give or take some time snapping pictures of the ponies

Bay Area represent, yo! It was a happy afternoon at the gym. The first thing I saw as I entered the cardio area was a 49ers jersey. I don’t know if the guy wearing it is from California, but it made me smile. I like to see pieces of home over here. (I happened to be wearing my old and tatty t-shirt from the Great San Francisco Bike Adventure of 1994. I hold on to my shirts!)

I haven’t always had a smile on in this gym. When I became a member in November, I was very excited. New gym, new equipment, good line-up of classes. Trendy looking pool. I wanted to jump right in. Except, it didn’t have any water in it. And I didn’t have my bathing suit on. So they wouldn’t let me.

When the gym opened for use, I quickly became aware that looks can be very, very deceiving. Stainless steel pools may appear chic, but once I so much as dipped a toe in, I came to realize they aren’t practical for swimming laps. They are dark, so it’s hard to see the walls. When uncertain of distances, I tend to err on the side of caution and flip my turns too soon. This leaves me suspended in the water with nothing to push off from. And looking pretty silly. So flipping’s out. I am okay with that. However, I am not so okay with the fact that the pool had no demarcations for swimming laps, nor any type of posted courtesy rules. At a fitness club, I found this a little bit odd. I have absolutely no problem sharing the pool with people playing and doggie paddling around. I like to do handstands and somersaults in the pool as much as the next water baby. BUT. I pay the same membership fees as them, so it seems there should be an area of the pool where I can swim laps for fitness without zigzagging my way across the pool, hoping I don’t kick someone in the stomach.

When I returned to England after Christmas, I gave the pool another try, to see if the gym had addressed user comments. (I couldn’t have been the only one to offer up suggestions). I was hopeful. They put up a sign asking people on one side of the pool to swim clockwise. So that’s what I tried. Until a very sour lady, not following instructions, insisted that she was there first so basically, I was to step off. I work out to be healthy in mind as well as body, so I removed myself from the situation (and vented my frustration to Crunchy husband later). She wasn’t amenable to the idea that if we both swim as per instructions, we could both use the space.

Within the last couple weeks, I heard rumors that they were putting in lane ropes. And today, the first thing I saw as I entered the pool area was a lane rope. And people within the roped off area paddling clockwise. I nearly busted out a happy dance right then and there. Everyone swimming and splashing in harmony. Oh happy, happy day! (I only had a short time to swim today, but man, was it nice and stress-free, the first positive experience in that pool. I can’t wait for the next swim!)

Today’s run

Distance: 2.0 miles (Treadmills bore me!! I can’t do it!)
Time: 18:36
Pace: 9:18 min/mile

Yesterday’s run

Distance: 3.7 miles
Time: 35:19
Pace: 9:32 min/mile

I am a bit disquieted today, and simply a bit sad. I’ve got a million confused thoughts running circles in my head. They refuse to order themselves into coherence. So, I don’t have much to say.

I will give a quick training update. Saturday morning I headed over to the coast for my first longer run in a while. It went really well for me, so well that I am beginning to suspect the odometer in our car is playing tricks. (I’ve got to find a trail with marked out mileage to compare paces.) But, maybe it was just my support cheering me on that gave me a spark.

After my run, we packed up the car and drove down near Brighton to camp for the night. It was cold, but on Sunday we warmed ourselves by hiking up to Black Cap and over to the beacon on Mount Harry. The views weren’t clear because it was so misty, but it was still a good hike in the countryside.

Saturday’s run

Distance: 6.0 miles
Time: 56:47
Pace: 9:27 min/mile

Sunday’s hike

Up to Black Cap, over to Mount Harry beacon and down again: 1:15:00

One of my current goals in life is to take my cross training to a new level. This weekend’s activities ticked several boxes under this goal including wear Italian shoes that rarely touch the ground but get mighty muddy, dance like a crazy woman, and masticate until I’ve got jaw muscles as big as He-man’s biceps. (I wouldn’t want any of my muscles feeling left out.) It was a productive weekend, toward this goal anyway. The hours I stretched out on the floor of Boogie friend’s house watching Dancing on Ice, Waking the Dead, Robin Hood, and dare I admit, EastEnders, may require a higher level of creative thinking to justly be called ‘productive’.

Saturday morning we went out for a quick ride over to West Cliff to enjoy the sun and sea. It was refreshing after last week’s cold, icy weather. It was pretty non-eventful. So non-eventful that there’s really not anything else that can be said about it. Except it was fun and there were lots of cauliflower plants. And some cute dogs. And that’s where the Italian shoes came in.

After showering away the bits of mud from the ride, we headed to London to meet up with Boogie friend and Boogie friend’s husband for dinner and…a boogie. We were winners, and had dinner in Pinner. Mastication—check! Let’s just say, we like curry. We like it so much we ordered six different main dishes, as well as vegetable side dishes, rice and raitha. And we ate it all, thank you very much! We needed our strength for the dance floor. (Question: if I eat sag paneer every day, will I develop Popeye, the sailor man muscles?)

The pub with the dance floor appears to have a regular dancer, according to Boogie friend. He has been dubbed Bryan Ferry. He’s got the hair flicking down. He knows how to take his place on the floor. This guy’s certainly not afraid to be himself. Crunchy husband claims he’s a Northerner, evidenced by his chattiness and good-natured friendliness at the bar. (I tried to explain to Crunchy husband that Mr. Ferry may have been picking up on him, as he was wearing my Gap sweater tied around his shoulders.) I applaud you, Mr. New Romantic. You are a breath of fresh air in a dim, smoky pub filled with women who look down their noses at the few happy dancers who don’t really care if what they are doing with their legs, arms and hips is ‘cool’. It’s fun! Who cares!

We didn’t have dessert on Saturday night, so Boogie friend and I saw fit to indulge in chocolate fountain action on Sunday evening. Another tick for the jaw muscle workout. Oh I am so good! This fit nicely into my training plan as we dipped bananas, strawberries, oranges and pineapples in the fountain, with only the occasional pancake or marshmallow! So really, it was healthy. And it made us smile, working those zygomatic muscles.

Three cheers for the chocolate fountain! Hip, hip, hooray!

I like to get out there and breathe fresh air. I like to feel my lungs expand and muscles work. I like to work up a sweat. I am alive and my heart is ticking. This is good.

But, I am not sure I would classify myself as a ‘runner’. To give myself a bit of credit, the term is ambiguous. What makes one a ‘runner’? I mean, I am sure I am more of a runner than say, Jade Goody, Britain’s current über-chav, who reportedly fell over screaming ‘I’m dying!’ before getting anywhere near the finish line of last year’s London marathon because she didn’t ‘really understand miles’ and stayed up the night before stuffing herself silly with curry. (Dear God. Please let this witless woman remain captive in her ‘safe house’ until the media have forgotten all about her so we can be free of her drivel.)

But, I also don’t think I am as much of a runner as Paula Radcliffe. In fact, I am fairly sure I am not! Yet, I do know how to tie my shoes to keep my narrow heels from slipping. And how to effectively apply Bodyglide to prevent the evil chafe. So I guess I am somewhere in the middle.

I am an avid supporter of cross-training. Variety, as they say, is the spice of life. Cross-training keeps you from getting bored, and keeps your spirits up for the long training road ahead.

This weekend, cross-training allowed me to make a new friend.

To travel an ancient highway.

And to break out the cookie monster cycling jersey!

Oh yes, I am a fan of cross-training!

Yesterday’s ride

Time: 1:33:00, give or take about 15 minutes for important photographic and toilet stops