Greeeeeeeetings Blog.
Two days before Christmas, I attended the nicest funeral. I was in God’s own country. Prior to the service at the crematorium, it was feared that there would be a family confrontation which would have spoiled the memory of the deceased. Fortunately, common sense prevailed. The service and commitment were moving. The humanist service was conducted by David Jennings who coincidentally attended university at the same time as me and became a member of the same running club, Bingley Harriers. He told me after the service when we had a chat, that he had an English Schools Cross Country programmes from 1963 in which both of us were entered, him for Gloucestershire, and me for Yorkshire. Interesting Blog. In fact I did not run. I was entered but did not run. I must have been entered as a reserve for the county team. I never made the team for either the school’s track or the school’s cross country championships. It was in the season that I started running. It was also the season of the BIG FREEZE. And I do mean BIG, with a capital ‘B’. I must have told you before Blog, the I went out for a run on Boxing Day as it was starting to snow. There was a strong wind. Two miles into the run climbing up into the hills the snow drifts were becoming so deep that it was becoming dangerous to continue in the worsening conditions. I rarely quit a training session. I quit this training session. I turned back. 26th December … and the next time I saw grass and was able to run over the same said grass was at the National Cross Country Championships at Cambridge in March. Twere a bugger ova winter. Anyway, back to the school’s event. The Yorkshire Schools Championships were held at a Mexborough School in South Yorkshire. Laps around the flat school fields which had steep terraces between the football pitches. I did not own a pair of spikes in those days; I have told you before Blog that my family were not quite as well off as the Windsor family. I ran in pumps with rubber treds that I had glued on myself. Of course there was no grip in the solid ice conditions under foot. Weeks of sub-zero temperatures had turned the school fields into a skating rink, made worse by the school pupils tramping over the hard impacted snow. Trying to run up the slopes was impossible and I fell, literally at times, further and further behind the leaders to finish about 9th and so outside the selected team. I cried myself to sleep at night for weeks, such was my devastation. To make matters worse, a fellow sixth former from my school did qualify for the county team and thereby receive all the plaudits in assembly in the week that followed the county race and the week after the National Championships. I was not a happy bunny rabbit, not happy at all. I did not make the same mistake again about footwear. A hard lesson learned. So my school athletic career in athletics ended before it began!!!!
Whilst in Yorkshire, I trudged around the darkened streets to inspect the Christmas decorations. Many and more and superior to the Coventry citizens attempts at festive display. I am not kidding you Blog, that I saw one large outdoor tree which was festooned with more lights than Coventry city council used in the whole of the city precinct. The effect was enhanced because the conifer was growing on the edge of Cowling reservoir, the display being reflected in the darkened waters. Oh and did I tell you last week about the HGV getting stuck in one of the very narrow country lanes. Of course I did!!!
Despite the rain recently, the moors are still unseasonably dry, very runnable. They were also very trudgeable. I stayed in the luxury of a ‘megapod’ which over looked the aerodrome on the moors above Oxenhope. The windsock was horizontal for the days I stayed! I was horizontal when I went out for a trudge, the wind was so strong.
On Christmas eve, I travelled south down the M1 motorway. My young granddaughter was in the car with me, so was her aunt, my daughter. She, my granddaughter not her aunt, was watching Santa’s progress around the world on an I thingie. He had just left Papua New Guinea and was on his way to Japan, when I noticed two santas on two motor bikes bearing down on us. I had noticed them at the last service station as we had passed. PROBLEM. MEGABIG PROBLEM. How to explain TWO santas to a young child?? How do you explain TWO santas on motorbikes on the M1 to a young child when he was supposed to be in his sled being pulled by reindeer about to land in Japan?? She would be confused. She would be heart broken. So would be my small granddaughter. As we approached the slip road for Chesterfield, the two santas were just behind me but signalled to go off. SAVED??? As they went off up the slip road, both took the hand off the handle bar of their respective machines, waved and stuck their leg out behind them. They made her day. What a Christmas present. She was ecstatic with excitement, waving and screaming, becoming apoplectic when the santas waved back. My granddaughter wasn’t too interested though.
Happy Christmas Blog.
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