As I’m sat here in my kitchen eating porridge and catching up with Over 50’s Forum, the sun is streaming through the window, and I hope it’s the same for you as you prepare for your walk. Hope it goes well.
Thanks for the offer Alice, should I ever visit your neck of the woods, I would love to join your walking club maybe as a guest.
Good morning Robert :-D. Well, we’re not going the planned walk today. My partner is loaded with the cold. We will go out later and have a shorter walk. That walk will come round again. The Gleniffer Braes are a couple of miles from me and I’ve a notion to go there later. The views over the town are great. Yes, if you’re ever in this neck of the woods then please join us and we’ll treat you to a beer at the end ;- . Next weekend we’re going to Lochearnhead for two nights and there promises to be fantastic walks in that beautiful area. I’m really looking forward to it and I’ll post pics. Have a nice day Robert 
Brilliant as always. You’re a great advocate for a healthy lifestyle…
Do you write up notes as you go or is all from memory?
Thanks Anzac, appreciate your comments.
Sometimes during a walk I’ll dictate into my phone, only when I’m on my own though. Occasionally after a good run it gets a bit emotional, and words come easy.
Robert, I’m not a runner, but a walk does get emotional. The whole experience, the effort, the scenery, the feeling of being out there. At the end of it there is no feeling like it. I don’t know how i’d have coped without it. My friends still talk about when I first joined the walking group. At my lowest I’d go to work Monday to Friday, then know I was walking with the group on a Saturday. Got prepared on the Friday evening, then up early Saturday morning. Followed the programme every Saturday. Then a glass of wine afterwards with the group, then home to a ready meal curry, which I put in the oven, whilst having a bath. Then I’d devour it, have another glass of wine, then zonk into bed! Waken on a Sunday morning and felt great. It was a routine for me, which I loved. Everyone at work asks me each week where my walk is, even to this day. So I can understand how you feel about it.
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7:10 am and it’s broad daylight outside and I quietly jog out along the drive for my Sunday morning helping of LSD [Long Slow Distance] not much breeze to speak of, but what there is, was Icey cold, like a thousand needles pricking my face and legs. It didn’t look cold through the window, but patches of frost on the pavements and some frozen puddles convinced me otherwise. I tried to be careful adjusting my pace this morning as I made my way to the village boundary, I had got something special planned. I passed over the Railway level crossing and out into the country where I made my escape. My mind disengaged, and I let it wonder. A Magpie strutted across the road ahead, such a proud chap as he stuck his white chest out and walked one leg in front of the other [most birds hop] Magpies get a lot of bad press, but I love them, they look so dominant as they strut about, ‘attitude’ that’s what I admire, cats also posses it [mine does anyway] Something else white attracted my attention, as I grew closer I could see it was a discarded Fridge on the verge with other assorted waste items. I will not get angry, anger is a negative emotion and there is no room for it on this run. I shrug it off and continue. I cross over the canal bridge and take the towpath down the side, this will make my run longer than usual, I hope my early pace adjustments were correct; it’s a long walk home if not.
Not so much a tarmac path, more a grassy track and the frozen blades of grass crunch under my feet. The canal lies flat and shiny, like a narrow mirror disappearing round a faraway bend, and my destination. The rough ground gives way to a well trodden dirt track, which then exits through a gap in the wall and I pop out onto a road. I have arrived on the outskirts of the next village. I was born and brought up in this village, I lived here until at twenty one, Mum and Dad had saved enough for a deposit on their own bungalow in the next village where I now reside. I pass a small row of terraced houses at the side of the river, Sandra lived here: One of my first loves, we danced together in the school gym during dance classes [it was compulsory in those days] her long auburn hair tucked back over her shoulder, and her wire rimmed spectacles actually added to her beauty. Where had she gone? What does she look like now? Would she still recognise me? As I snap back into reality I’m jogging along deserted country roads, plastic pop bottles and beer cans litter the verges; it wasn’t always like this, beer and pop came in glass bottles, there was money to be had on the empties, so were rarely discarded. Beer was mainly drunk in the pub with friends and work colleagues, and could only be purchased from the off licence at the pub where the landlord knew your Dad, and also, he knew your age.
Running is easy, pacing was perfect, I sail along on a plateu, in the zone, no discomfort or tiredness, a glance at the GPS tells me I’ve run seven and a half miles, I make the call……….no answer…… O/H is out walking with her friends, she will be too engrossed in conversation to hear her mobile phone. I press on, puddles are still frozen as I enter the village and there are a few more people about, not many though, the wind is still very cold so they are either well wrapped up walking dogs, or in cars going to collect the morning papers. I come to a halt on the drive and stop the GPS. Nine and a Half miles, the most I’ve run for over a year, I feel so good, I sit in my chair at the computer and write a report waiting for the tide of wellness to flood over me. It soon comes…….All is well with the world……Let Sunday Begin…….
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Well done Robert! You deserve a nice leisurely Sunday after that
Congrats on that distance Rob, your tactics on the run paid off !!
Interesting hearing about the village where you grew up too, re the fly tipping, hate to see that, it’s not just a lack of concern for the environment but an insult to the people who live in the area.
I know what you mean about plastic bottles etc too. Discarded rubbish spoils so much of our road sides and paths.
Anyway well done again and hope you are having a nice afternoon. 
Well done OGF, hope you’ve still got some energy left to help with Sunday lunch!!
Thanks everyone, after consuming a mammoth Sunday dinner, I slept it off on the sofa…Just helped with the pots though.
Robert, I’ve a feeling you deserved a sleep 
[FONT=“Verdana”]Thanks Alice, I don’t normally like to sleep on the sofa, but FIL comes for his lunch on a Sunday so we all retire to the lounge afterwards and the inevitable happens.
I had posted two accounts of the Cuckoo Way: A 46 mile ramble along the Chesterfield Canal from West Stockwith to Chesterfield. I had completed three ten mile sections, the last two were done using the bike. Unfortunately, I can find no record [either report or photographs] for the last section. I had just made a few notes in my walking log.
I parked the car at Kiverton Park Railway Station and cycled the 12 miles back to Ranby, where the bike was chained to the fence outside Ranby Village Hall. I then followed the canal back to Kiveton Park on foot. I mentioned in my notes that it was quite foggy, so that could be responsible for the absence of photographs. I ended the walk where the canal disappeared due to the construction of the M1 motorway back in the sixties. Some restoration work had been done on some sections to make it navigable again.
A very enjoyable and interesting walk, and using this method of using the bike and walking back proved to be very useful in the planning of future expeditions. [/FONT]
News Flash Just In…Ranby to Kiverton photographs Found…Enjoy…
Approaching Worksop.
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=797&pictureid=5839
The halfway point between West Stockwith and Chesterfield
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=797&pictureid=5840
Lunch…
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=797&pictureid=5841
Turnerwood Lock, a very scenic area, I always said I would return here in the summer.
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=797&pictureid=5842
One of the local residents
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=797&pictureid=5843
Brickyard Double Lock Number 30 I’ve never seen so many locks one after the other.
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=797&pictureid=5844
It’s always good to see the bike is still there when I get back.
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=797&pictureid=5845
ah memories of a bye gone age. I was introduce to locks and canals as a young teenager having left city life and settle amongst some of the rolling hills of cheshire. Used to cycle 10miles to see a girlfriend and leave the push bike leaning against her front hedge, unlocked, whilst we walked along empty silent canal pathways. I would even do it in rain covered from head to foot in yellow cape, leggings and cap - not a pretty site but where the heart takes…
Walking is such a great way to keep healthy. In the 70`s i injured my back during Judo training, later that year i further damaged it at work, and was told to give up all such excercise. It frequently caused problems, and after another event i asked my GP if there was any altrnative to 2 weeks on the sick with painkillers.
His answer was to crawl around on my hands and knees to help with the damaged muscle, i was less than impressed so tried swimming and walking.
Over time my walking became more ambitious with hillwalking becoming a weekend pursuit, and i was asked to be a voluntary warden for the Northumberland National Park.
I went on to do other physical hobbies as my back pain had dissapeared, cant manage the hills these days but still do a few miles on my bird and wildlfe surveys.
good on ya nom - the body can heal itself with gentle persuasion and sometimes without the help of quacks!
I remember those yellow capes Gumbud, with little loops inside to tuck your thumbs in while riding. Wore it regularly while cycling to work in the rain.
There are some nice looking canals in Cheshire; The Macclesfield Canal looks like one I could explore in more detail.
You’ve done well Nom, these days everything is done with medication. I believe that if you can keep your mobility, you will stay healthy, be it running, walking, swimming or cycling. If I get injured and can’t run, I’ll just switch to another sport that I can do.
Nice outdoor pics Robert. It’s great getting out and about in the fresh air. Does you good and lifts the spirits
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Payback Time.
It is my belief that provided you build up to it slowly, the human body is capable of extraordinary feats of strength and endurance. Indeed, during the ten years that I was Marathon running, every Sunday would contain a run of over twenty miles. It made very little difference whether I ran a Marathon or just my usual Sunday long run, my body had come to expect a ‘long hard run’ on a Sunday, and had duly prepared for it by conserving and storing energy throughout the week. I received a phone call one Saturday night from a friend who had accompanied me on many marathons and long distance fell runs. There was a marathon being run in Derby on the next day and they would accept entries on the day. We had run the Telford Marathon just the week before, but we accepted the challenge and ran the Derby. I was a couple of minutes faster on the Derby Marathon than the one at Telford: This was only possible due to the training methods employed, and it was not the last time that we did this.
The little mental prod I receive that turns me out of bed and on to the street on run days, was also causing mischief last week when it had me running further on my Sunday run. So this morning, with an extra couple of miles in my legs I set off for my Tuesday Five. I felt good as I ran with the wind behind me, and I danced lightly over tarmac and muddy paths. I was soon turning onto the footpath that led me along the side of the main road. Although there was no standing traffic, it was endless, and the next mile and a half was so noisy. Although it’s not my favourite part of the run, I suddenly realised that I love the contrast; because as I entered the cul-de-sac that takes me to the lane and out into the country, you really appreciate the silence after the roar of the traffic.
With just over three miles covered I attacked the rough surface of the lane. It was overcast but dry, going was firm underfoot, but I was now running with the wind in my face, I could feel energy ebbing away. It didn’t get any better; I found myself gasping for air, and the wind continued to buffet me around. Legs were fast turning to rubber as I crossed the railway line and up the small gradient at the other side. Only a quarter of a mile remains and I dug deep into my reserves; unable to speak, I lumbered on to the drive and stopped the watch. Expecting to see a poor time I glanced down through blurred, watering eyes, and tried to make sense of the figures staring back at me……Only one minute slower than my best time for that course……That’ll do nicely.
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Great effort and loved the pics . Sadly no canals in this necck of the woods .