Reply to Alice 76
Specially for Alice76
This was taken at the other end of the bay on the Great Orme. We were lucky to have good weather, it’s usually blowing a gale up there.
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=789&pictureid=5815
Running: never too old…
I found this while trawling the internet. It’s why I do it…
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sponsored/health/vitality-run-series/11370257/running-motivation.html?WT.mc_id=605933&source=Outbrain
Gringley to Clayworth
Because my adventures don’t start until it gets warmer (Wuss) I thought you might like to read a previous report…
Gringley to Clayworth
For eight years I drove round the country delivering parcels and other miscellaneous items as a self employed courier, it was ‘the’ best job I have ever done. Along with sandwiches and a drink, running kit was also considered an essential item to carry in the back of the van, and upon a successful delivery, I would study the map to find interesting places to fit in a cheeky five mile run. But the job always came first, and as I sped around the network of roads to deliver a time sensitive parcel I would pass places that would call out to me to explore. One such place was the Chesterfield Canal at Worksop. I would gaze down at the towpath as I drove over the bridge and wished that I could walk along it. Where did it go? What interesting things could be seen along it’s meandering course?.. But at that time it was just a dream. Jobs came and went, and an opportunity to retire presented itself on my sixtieth birthday, so I accepted.
I still had the desire to walk the full length of the Chesterfield Canal, and so it was on Thursday 21st March 2013, that I set foot on the first five mile stretch. I would walk ten miles each week, five out, and five miles back to the car. It was cold and muddy along this first stretch, and the running shoes I had selected to walk in didn’t grip so well in the mud and I was slipping and sliding most of the five miles. It was a very scenic route that started in West Stockwith on the banks of the River Trent and followed the path where two walks merged: ‘The Cuckoo Way’ and ‘The Trent Valley Way’ and the GPS watch had notched up five miles by the lock at Gringley-on-the-Hill…Just a walk back then…
The next week, with the sun streaming through the window, I set off to join the canal where I left off last week at Gringley-on-the-Hill. The canal banks were a lot firmer today, and going was good, in fact so good, I felt guilty not running, sometimes it’s just nice to dawdle and take in the view though. The canal winds it’s way through woods and farmland, until you arrive at the road bridge that carries the A631 Bawtry to Gainsborough road. You can not pass through the tunnel, so instead you take a dirt track over Cuckoo Hill and then back down to the side of the canal. The shorts I brought might have been okay for running, but it was too cold to walk in them. Although the sun was poking out from behind the clouds now and then making it very pleasant, when it went in; Monkey’s and welder’s sprung to mind. A couple of bridges later you come to Wiseton, a very nice little meal stop, there’s even a seat to watch the world go by, whilst devouring a Tesco Tuna and Cucumber Sandwich, I doesn’t get much better than this. But it was too early for lunch, so I’ll stop here on the way back. Carrying on, you arrive at Clayworth, you see the church on the hill first, and the building in front with the conservatory is Royston Manor, where, in the past, on several occasions, I have sampled their fine cuisine and entertained many a young lady. Pressing on, you pass by the boat people, an assortment of occupied narrow boats, eventually arriving at the Retford Boat Club. This is as far as we go today, GPS says 5 miles. With a good off road car park, and toilets, this will be my starting point next week. I did jog, all the way back to Wiseton, the seat, and Dinner, but I was beaten by three walkers and a mangy Jack Russell. Bugger…
To be continued…
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=789&pictureid=5817
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=789&pictureid=5816
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Lovely story and lovely pics Robert 
We’re thinking of walking the West Highland Way. We’ve done parts of it, but not the whole lot. We would do it the easy way of course. Get our bags taken from place to place. I’d just love to be able to say I’d walked it all!
So far the longest walk I’ve done is 14 miles from Longniddry to North Berwick. A lovely walk, lots of different terrain. If ever there was an excuse to have a beer, then it’s at the end of that walk 
Great pics and loved the story !
Entry:-170215
Thanks to everyone who has commented on my previous posts I appreciate it.
Today’s lively effort consists of a five mile run in a more urban setting than Sunday’s run out into the country.
6:10 am and there is a scratching at the door, dressed in just a minimum of clothes I open it and peer round, cold air rushes in and engulfs my body like an icey cloak, Maddie the cat also rushes in and barges her way past me in an attempt to get to her dish of food: she has spent the night patrolling her territory and keeping it free of rodents, after eating, she will sleep the rest of the day.
The sky is cloudless, and there are still a few stars visible, the lawn sparkles with a layer of frost. My decision to leave the windproof running jacket and gloves behind would be a foolish one, so I remove them from the cupboard and position them carefully. Within minutes I am jogging down the empty street, occasionally I feel my running shoe slide on the frosty surface but I manage to maintain my balance. I guess it must be around zero degrees, but no colder, and the sharp morning air picks at my bare skin; legs and face.
It’s been a good winter so far, and I’ve managed to run in shorts throughout. I crunch over the fallen leaves as I jog; first through the woods, and then along a cycle track past a row of houses. As I join the main road, I see a bright orange disc rising from the distant hedgerows, another week and I reckon the sun will already be hoisted in the eastern sky before I set off on my runs.
I feel a surge of energy and step up a gear, it’s great to be out here doing this.
After three miles I turn into the cul-de-sac that will lead me to the lane, I make my compulsory phone call to my O/H, I am excited by the sunrise and my apparent turn of speed, I try to explain how I feel, but gasping for breath it’s hard to speak so I sign off and continue with my run.
My legs are getting tired now as I dodge the frozen puddles and muddy grooves on the lane but I manage to hold the pace until once again I step onto my drive and stop the watch. I glance down, and am rewarded by a very fast time…
Loved the story . I felt I was with you all the way ! I was out at that time too walking my dogs . Best time of the day . Nobody about and the whole walk all to myself .
[FONT=“Verdana”]Continuing my travels on the Cuckoo Way, here is the next chunk…
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[FONT=“Verdana”]CLAYWORTH TO RANBY
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[FONT=“Verdana”]Today’s walk was a little different, instead of walking 5 mile out, and 5 mile back, I decided that by using the bike I could do a ten mile stretch of the Chesterfield canal in one go.
I dusted off the bike, it’s been over two years since I rode, so I did a test run the day before. Just four and a half miles turned my legs to jelly, you would have thought that all the running I do would have kept me in decent shape. Never mind, it’ll be alright on the day, I thought.
The day started off sunny, not a cloud in the sky, but by the time I reached Ranby some clouds had gathered and a brisk cold easterly wind had struck up. I retrieved the bike from the back of the car and tackled the small climb out of Ranby. I passed the prison and noticed all the cars parked in the car park, there must be more people work there than there are inmates, I felt lucky to be on this side of the fence. But only just, don’t let anybody tell you that it’s flat round Retford, and with the easterly in my face I was struggling. Another hill on the road out of Retford and on to Welham and Clareborough, from here you are taken on to the B1403 to Hayton and finally on to Clayworth, It’s so flat round here, brilliant, I thought, but the long straight road to Clayworth is open and points north east, which incidentally is exactly the way the wind was blowing from. Down to ten miles an hour at least, I couldn’t tell for sure, because it was that cold it was making my eyes water and I couldn’t read the GPS. So, staggering round the car park at the boat club with rubber legs, I attached the bike firmly to a fence and made my way along the canal bank towards Retford. I hope it’s still there when I return. From Clayworth to Retford the canal bank meanders through the flat countryside of arable fields, approaching a bridge is the only highlight, or an electricity pylon. I know… it’s still nice to be out, and it not be raining, or up to your armpits in mud.
The going was very good, nice and firm, at this rate the trainers won’t even need cleaning when I get home. What a contrast when you arrive at Retford, with small docks at the end of gardens that lead down to the water, and basins containing narrow boats and other craft.
There is a lot of parkland too, with seats by the canal, with a rumbling tum demanding attention, I parked myself on one of the seats and had lunch. I passed by a large cemetery as I left the outskirts of Retford, and under a bridge carrying the main East Coast Line, Kings Cross to Edinburgh, trains thundered overhead every five minutes, and then I was back into open country, peace and quiet once again. My ten miles were reached, and I could see the car, always a relief, but I had intended to walk as far as the tunnel under the A1, so passing the car, I reluctantly covered the mile to the tunnel. Shoes were as clean as when I started, and the weather would have been perfect had it not been for the icy wind, so no shorts today, may be next time. The bike was still where I left it, well, it’s not worth much it’s an old one done up, a bit like me really…
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Hope the bike will be there when I get back…
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=790&pictureid=5821
It just looked interesting…
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=790&pictureid=5822
This Lock is called ‘Whitsunday 2’
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=790&pictureid=5823
The main East Coast Line, passes over the Chesterfield Canal.
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=790&pictureid=5824
Forest Mid Top Lock.
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=790&pictureid=5825
Ten miles covered, the end of todays walk. Lorries thunder along the A1 where it crosses the Chesterfield Canal.
To be Continued…
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=790&pictureid=5826
Ah now I know about the bike, saw the pics on your profile before I saw this.
Will read it fully tomorrow as falling asleep here.
I’ve just caught up with your posts.
I just felt like I was with you there on your run! Enjoyed the stories. I was going to ask where your avatar was but it was answered earlier - on top of the Great Orme. I’ve been there but took the train.
Entry:-190215
6:15am And the prod of dedication wakens me from a deep sleep where I have won marathons and received Olympic gold medals. The same prod selects auto-pilot as I quietly get dressed and gaze at the rain soaked window. Before I have time to resist, I’m out in the street splashing along waterlogged pavements. Full kit this morning, hat, gloves and waterproof jacket, but I still wear shorts: legs are very waterproof and can manage without the flapping of sodden bottoms.
I cross the road and drop onto a small path down the side of a field, it’s full of puddles, some I dodge and some I leap over, but by the time I get to the end of the field I just run through them. I can feel the cold embrace of the water on my feet as it soaks through my running shoes. Err. I’m back on tarmac now running through a housing estate, I find the alley that leads to the wood and once again I’m on soft ground. The rain seems to have eased off now; or is it just the protection from the trees. As I leave the wood and join the main road, I find a small procession of vehicles queuing to take their place on the roundabout. Faces peer out at me from steamy windows, I know what they are thinking; but they are wrong, I’m warm and comfy jogging along on what is [for them] just another rainy morning.
The lane is not as bad as I thought it would be, I can still find some places to run on that are not underwater or chewed up by the odd tractor. I arrive home in a disappointing time, I try to think of excuses to write in my journal; the rain, the mud, the traffic, but in the end, it was me, doing the best that I could on this rainy February morning.
Weather must make a difference what with dodging the puddles and the softer conditions. I think people who pass someone running in their cars do wonder why they are doing it but the runner is quite happy in their ‘zone’.
Going to do my exercise now but an indoors exercise class. 
Well done OGF. My hubby is a walker, he goes out most mornings for a 30 minute fast walk whatever the weather. He keeps asking me to join him but its not for me.
Loved the stories and I know how good you must have felt at the end of each one . Worth every sodden step !
Robert we’re off on a seven mile walk on Saturday, to the Falls of Clyde. I think it will be a lovely walk and the weather is forecast to be good. The walks get longer as the weather gets better. I’m really looking forward to our Summer programme. I’ll need to get another walk reccied and get it put into the programme soon. The leader is champing at the bit
Your running shoes must take a bit of cleaning and drying out Robert.
Glad you’re here Mr Fox
Wish I was coming with you Alice. Have a great walk and I look forward to your report… I’m just doing my running at the moment, but I’m also getting itchy feet for a longer adventure. I’m trying to tidy up all the jobs around the house, because once the sun comes out I won’t be able to resist the temptation to get out there.
At the end of April last year I suffered a second Heart Attack [The first being May 2004]
I was eager to return to running and was given the all clear to run again.
After successfully completing some short distance runs, along came Sunday, and I decided to attempt my first six mile run. This was my report at the time.
[FONT=“Verdana”]Entry:-170814
Let me take you with me on a six mile run.
The weather man was quite intimidating last night when he believed that strong winds and rain would spread to the North of England by morning. If that was the case, my long Sunday run would be difficult to say the Least.
Looking out of the window at six o clock this morning revealed something very different. The sky was a uniform shade of light blue with white fluffy clouds low on the horizon still obscuring the sun, which had only just started to rise. A gentle breeze ruffled only the highest leaves on the trees that circled the green.
I clamp the velcro fastener round my upper left arm, containing my mobile Phone, it’s the only way I am allowed to go out on a run these days, by carrying it with me. With my stopwatch round my left wrist, and heart rate monitor round my right wrist, I am ready to take you with me as I take my first steps out into the cool morning air.
I start the stopwatch and lean into a jog, that same cool morning air gently brushes past my face and legs, it takes a while to get into a pace, It is the first time I will have attempted to run six miles non stop since before my heart attack sixteen weeks ago. The pace I select will be the difference between success and failure. I jog past bungalows containing sleeping neighbours, some are awake though, and I see their curtains twitch as they see me run past: I know what they must be thinking, ‘There he goes, running towards another heart attack’
I believe they are so wrong.
The streets are empty with only the odd car humming past on the main road, most of them will be driving the few hundred yards from their houses down to the paper shop and back. The temptation of a car on the drive is too much to ignore, and after all, it saves time; for what? It’s Sunday, nothing much happens on a Sunday. Except I do my long Sunday run.
I pass the church on the left as I make my way into the country, it’s silent now, but in a few hours time it will be full of worshipers singing and praying to the lord. The congregation is not as large as in old days, but still as enthusiastic as their voices mingle in harmony and drift over the fields behind, typical sounds of village life. Is there a God, I honestly don’t know, but if there is, he is smiling on me this morning. And I should thank him for providing me with a body perfectly designed for doing this.
I feel a twinge in my left ankle, It’s the Achilles Tendon that I’ve had so much trouble with over the last year, the pain will go off in the next half mile, I don’t run fast enough now for it to be a problem, and it’s almost better. A couple of Magpies cluck at me from somewhere in the hedge, and I hear the sound of a whistling Blackbird or Thrush on the other side of the road. I glance at my heart rate monitor and see my pulse has evened out at 130 BPM, perfect.
The sun breaks free from the cloud that has been hiding it as it rises higher into the clear blue sky above, and I feel the warmth on my back. The countryside is illuminated by it’s light, the greens suddenly take on a new vivid brightness and the road in front of me shines like a thousand diamonds off the small puddles left behind after the rain in the night. I squint into the light.
My breathing is heavy but not forced, I could easily hold a conversation, my running shoes tap out a rhythmic pat on the hard surface of the road, my thoughts drift off into another place. They could never go there at home with all the distractions of modern life. I feel like I could maintain this pace forever.
I have lived all my life to be delivered to this place, now; I have though about this moment a thousand times; while at work, and in those dark days during my two heart attacks when I thought this feeling would be lost forever, impossible
to return to. Nothing is impossible.
We are more than half way round now, and as the road climbs gently I glance once more at my heart rate monitor, 139 BPM, a bead of sweat appears on my brow, I brush it away as I crest the hill, my heart rate drops back to 130 BPM as I cruise down the other side.
I pass over the level crossing that marks the end of the peaceful stretch, l am once again thrust back into the present, as I pass by the first of the houses I become aware of the sounds of the traffic on the main road ahead. It has become a lot busier than it was an hour ago. I stop the watch as I take my last few steps onto the drive.
I sit here at my computer and wait for the endorphins to kick in as they always do after a run. I’ve never took drugs, but if I had, I would imagine this is what it would feel like. I sit and write a report of my experiences, the wind has got up and it begins to splatter the window with rain… Weatherman was right…
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Robert, if you lived in this area you would be more than welcome to join us :-). We welcome all new members and love to encourage them. Yes, when the weather gets better you will get out there. I always think it’s something to look forward to, the better weather when you can get out and about and see the outside world, as opposed to this internal one