Of course, once he’d stopped running poor Commando was freezing. There was a little time before the 5k race was due to start but our first job was to remove the Golden Mile race number and pin on the 5k one. Stupidly, we decided to do this on the beach in the pouring rain with the wind tearing at us. When I took the first safety pin out my fingers were so wet and cold I dropped it and had to scrabble around amongst the pebbles in what I was sure would be a futile search. Luckily, by some miracle, I found it again and eventually managed to pin on the new number. Continue reading Race two, the Gosport 5k, being a good samaritan
When Commando reminded me that Sunday was the day of the Gosport Golden mile and 5k, I was quite looking forward to it. Since the first one, in 2013, Commando has run it every year and, althought it may be short, there’s time enough for me to have a nice stroll along the pretty shore at Stokes Bay while he’s running and still be there at the finish line. It does mean an early start for a Sunday morning but it’s well worth it and, with a children’s mile race before the main event and, this year, a wheelchair race too, it had the makings of a fun morning. Continue reading A very wet, windy Gosport Golden Mile
The pyracantha flowers were beginning to open on the way to the river on Wednesday morning. The tiny white flowers and pearl like buds looked like a wedding bouquet. When I reached the riverbank there were no swans but it was hard to tell where the sky ended and the river began. The morning sun slanting through a host of tiny clouds created an illusion of infinity that made me dizzy. Continue reading Infinite sky, reflections and an empty nest
For various reasons the month did not begin too well. For one, the weather had taken a turn for the worse, maybe all our wishing for a cooler, duller day for the London Marathon worked a little too well and we had rain and gale force winds for the first week of May. Then there was my birthday. Lots of eating and practice with the new coffee machine but no walking. After a record breaking April, May was beginning to look like a washout. Continue reading The one thousand five hundred mile coastal challenge, May miles
My rendezvous with Panda was the entrance to WestQuay so I found an empty seat with a good view and sat to wait and watch. The South American pan pipe players had set up a little further along the precinct so it was a pleasant wait, if short. I’d hardly had time to get comfortable before I spotted Panda. Eleven in the morning is a little too early for lunch and our planned venue wouldn’t open until midday so, once we’d done with all the hugging and greetings, we set off through the Bargate, past the piano accordion playing busker to Costa for pre lunch coffee. Continue reading Lunch at The Wool House
On Sunday I had a lunch date with Panda. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, although we’ve spoken on the phone and texted. We’d arranged to meet at eleven, giving me time for a little lie in and a slow wander over to town by way of a Sunday walk. As luck would have it, it was sunny when I set out, not long after Commando had gone off for his Sunday morning run. To be on the safe side I wore my thin mack, just in case, but, by the time I got to the Big Bridge, I was hot. The water sparkled and the rowing club were powering along the river. Continue reading A lunch date and a walk in the enchanted park
Sometimes things don’t turn out quite how you expected. It often happens with my walks, but that’s usually through a lack of proper planning on my part. Other times, no matter how well you plan, things go wrong and this weekend seems to have been one of triumph over adversity, none of which involved walking of any kind. Continue reading Triumph over adversity, a water saga and a mattress
My Sunday walk didn’t finish at the end of the greenway trail. If I only had one day for walking I wanted to fit in a great deal more than six miles. Unfortunately the plan meant the next part would be along the main Bursledon Road with traffic zooming past. At least, being Sunday, there weren’t too many cars and, for a moment, I was tempted to cross the road and grab a coffee in Costa before good sense prevailed. Maybe on the way back… Continue reading Bursledon, windmills, bricks and hills
Looking at the weather forecast and my diary, it was pretty certain Sunday was going to be the only day I’d have a chance to get out on a walk this weekend. Not good news for my May mileage but those are the breaks, I guess. The usual looking at maps followed and I thought I’d come up with a plan of sorts. For once it was one that hardly involved rivers of any kind.
The walk in the park turned out to be my main weekend walk. This wasn’t the plan but, when I set out for my Tuesday walk, I had to pop into the doctors to order a repeat prescription. This should have only taken a moment or two but the lovely receptionist (I don’t mean this sarcastically, she really is lovely) noticed I was due a routine blood test.
“I think I can fit you in now if you like,” she smiled, “if you don’t mind waiting a little while.”
Of course I said yes because it would save me another trip later. Unfortunately, a little while turned out to be quite a long while and, by the time I came out with a brand new plaster on my arm, it was too late for the walk I’d planned. Continue reading Flowers in the rain