The courage to finish

23 April 2017

With my large latte in hand I went back to Guildhall Square to cheer the runners home. Sammy Saint, AKA Matthew, was there, still in his costume dancing around as if he hadn’t just run 10k in the swealtering heat. I kept looking at his feet in their oversized boots and imagined him taking them off later and pouring out a few pints of accumulated sweat. What a legend! Continue reading The courage to finish

The marathon returns to Southampton

23 April 2017

At quarter to eight this morning Commando and I were standing on The Avenue opposite The Common shivering a little and looking at the mist swirling across the city. Obviously it was a race day and this time no ducks of any kind were involved. For once I was the one wearing the race shirt with a number and a timing chip pinned to it. 

Continue reading The marathon returns to Southampton

Quacky races

21 April 2017

In our house early starts usually mean races and it was certainly early when CJ and I left the house. We were heading for Mansbridge and a race but any similarity to a normal race day ended with the early hour. For one Commando was still at home in bed sleeping off the night shift. There were no trainers, no race kit and there would be no medals at the end. My camera was in my bag though. We’d been reliably informed there would be a whole lot of ducklings to see and I didn’t want to miss them.  Continue reading Quacky races

Westwood reprise

14 April 2017

It isn’t often Commando wants to go for a walk with me so, when he said he said he fancied a stroll in Westwood to stretch out his legs after weeks and weeks of marathon training runs, I jumped at the chance. Westwood has become a bit of a bête noire of mine. It seem so to be a place where I always end up getting lost or on the wrong trail. Commando, who spent his boyhood in these parts, knows it far better than I so walking it with him would be a real treat.  Continue reading Westwood reprise

Casting clouts, nesting swans and a coffee disaster, almost…

12 April 2017

Reluctantly we’d left the cool green shade of Monks Brook. We crossed the road by the Swaythling railway arch and, for a moment or two, I dithered, torn between walking through Monks Brook Meadows or the less scenic but more direct route along Wide Lane. In the end I thought about my recovering knee and the distance we’d be covering and decided on short and less sweet. The first hawthorn flowers of spring spilling over a garden wall seemed to be a sign I’d made the right decision.  Continue reading Casting clouts, nesting swans and a coffee disaster, almost…

Mother Nature’s riverside bounty

12 April 2017

This week seems to be all about errands and today was no different, not that I was complaining. This particular errand, to drop of a birthday present for Philo, involved a rather lovely walk. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, there was a light breeze to keep me cool. What more could I ask?  Continue reading Mother Nature’s riverside bounty

Festival of Colour

11 April 2017

Today I had an errand to run in town. Time was short, there would be no room for dilly dallying but there was something I had to go and have a look at while I was there. This week Southampton was hosting a festival of colour in the new Watermark esplanade. It sounded like it might be interesting so I thought I’d pop along for a quick look on my travels.  Continue reading Festival of Colour

More tales from the Old Cemetery

8 April 2017

Even if you’re not a runner there are some advantages to getting up early on a Saturday morning for parkrun. For me this usually means a walk of some kind while Commando is running and, for the second week in a row my feet took me to the Old Cemetery on the Common. At this pont you might be thinking two Saturday mornings walking round a cemetery sounds borderline obsessive. Maybe you’d be right but there was so much still to see I couldn’t resist. This time I took the fancy pants camera with me. Continue reading More tales from the Old Cemetery

The Westwood mystery revisited

5 April 2017

The crumbled and broken gatepost we’d found once belonged to Lake House. This was one of three houses built on the edge of the wood in Victorian times, named after the lake in its grounds. Sadly, the house is long gone but the lake remains as Westwood’s main pond, along with some of the plants that once graced the gardens. Just beyond the fallen gatepost, I could see the whateveritis we’d come to look at. Perhaps CJ would have some useful ideas about what it might be? Continue reading The Westwood mystery revisited

Woods, hovercraft, ice cream cones and gateposts

5 April 2017

As our little jaunt to Eling had been a success as far as my poor old knee was concerned I thought I’d try a longer walk today.  The sun was shining and the sky was blue, more or less, so it seemed like the perfect day for a walk down to the shore. The breeze from the sea would take the edge off if it got too hot and there are plenty of places to sit if need be.  Continue reading Woods, hovercraft, ice cream cones and gateposts