Entry:-020315
Having been an engineer for most of my adult life, the workings of the Internal Combustion Engine has been an area of fascination and interest for me, and consequently, I have worked; quite extensively on, said engines. Very rarely have their workings been beyond my capability to repair. But this morning, my five year old Nissan Qashqai refused to start. I had to bite the bullet and call my local garage for assistance… Bugger…
Entry:-030315
Just a quick blog this morning as our neighbours are already revving their car up to take us to the cinema at Meadowhall. I do not make a very good back seat driver, and in the absence of my vehicle, we have accepted their kind offer of a ride out.
‘The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel 2’ After having recently watched the first one, we are looking forward to the second, stand by for reports…
This mornings run was a laboured affair, The cold breeze must have come straight from the Arctic, but it didn’t put me off. However, I think the extra couple of miles I’ve been running on a Sunday might be responsible for my lack luster run this morning. I felt very good afterwards, and at 50:24 it was one of my fastest runs this year, but the legs were tired and no amount of coaxing would step up the pace…
You know how it is when you just don’t feel right…
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I’ve copied that OGF for next time I’m out that way. Thanks so much for taking the time to find this Trig Point, I’m actually getting quite curious about them now !!
Hope you got your car working again OGF, so frustrating when you can normally tackle these jobs yourself. We have a son in the motor trade so when he can’t resolve a car problem he usually knows a man who can !!
Hi Robert, I did post pics of our walk on the photographs thread. Our walk was great on Saturday. Only three of us. Myself,partner and my son. Drove to Rob Roy’s grave at Balquidder. Then followed the Kirkton Glen path from there. It was a ascent from the bottom of the path. On a pine needle covered path which looked like a red carpet. There were exceptionally tame robins who came right up to us. I’ve never known a robin to come so close. We got pics, but unfortunately did not have a scrap to feed them. It was a winding path, with dense trees on either side. At that point you could not see anything outwith the trees, but there was promise that once you reached the summit the view would be spectacular, and it was. We turned into the Clan Maclaren ground and at the top the view was spectacular. Also there was snow around us. A bit tricky climbing up to the top of the summit, but my son’s helping hands got us there. We stood at the top and admired the view for a while. It was too lovely to dismiss shortly. We then started our descent, meeting a family with their dogs on the way. I will do that walk again. The view at the top is one to be admired more than once.
Our walk this Saturday is a flatter walk, Glengarnock to Lochwinnoch, 7 miles, but with our group and lots of banter and fellowship. I’m looking forward to it already, especially as I haven’t done this walk before and it’s apparently to be 15 degrees 
Entry:-030315 Cont…
Myra, You must have been posting your photos for quite some time, I didn’t realise; I was really impressed, you have certainly covered some ground. That viewpoint you visited on Saturday’s walk is outstanding, you did well to climb that.
I hope the weather is kind to you on this Saturday.
Val, I shall investigate that Trig Point myself when I next visit the area, good hunting. Glad to see you are Val again…
‘The Second Best Marigold Hotel’ was even better than the first, I’m already looking forward to the third and fourth, I will be so disappointed if they don’t make any more. I didn’t realise that the more mature woman was still interested in such raunchy behaviour! I guess I must be too naive.
I felt a vibration in my trousers while watching the film, and it wasn’t till after that I realised it was my mobile phone: the garage was ringing to tell me the car was repaired and waiting for collection: So after Tea and Lemon Drizzle Cake in M&S we made a quick dash for home and made it just as they were locking up.
OGF is back on the road!!!
Walking with the bike was so successful on the Cuckoo Way, I decided to try it on some other linear walks. Here is my report on the Beverley 20 undertaken on 26th April 2013.
THE BEVERLEY FIFTEEN AND THREE QUARTERS
Today’s excursion is the Beverley 20, but because the first part of the path from the Humber Bridge to North Ferriby is closed, we’ll call it the Beverley Fifteen and and Three Quarters. I had planned to park the car at the Tesco in Beverley, but upon reading the sign which foretold of impending doom to anyone who used the facility for more than three hours, I hastily purchased my Cornish Pasty, and Mars bar, and made a run for it. I would finish the walk at Beverley Minster, so I cruised that area to find a suitable parking spot, alas, the very narrow streets, and the copious use of yellow paint made it a no go area. A sign directed me to the Leisure Centre, which I though would be an excellent place to leave the car, as I was pursuing a leisure activity, but five pounds for four hours was not only beyond my means, but I’d be lucky to complete the round trip by bus in four hours. So necessity led me to an out of town location, which, if my map reading was to be relied upon, would be on my route to the Minster near the end of my walk, and if I was tired, could call it a day here.
I was soon cycling the undulating route from Beverley to North Ferriby, someone decided that today would be the day they would resurface the A164, and after filling it with bollards and heavy machinery, set about the task of ripping up the surface of the road, which made cycling difficult and dangerous. Despite this I arrived safely at the Railway Station in North Ferriby, and selected a suitable post to shackle the bike. I had decided to wear shorts, and although the weather was sunny, the wind was on the chilly side, but my legs will look nice in golden brown on the Keswick Half next week. The paths were dry and firm, except for the scramble along the foreshore of the river Humber, fortunately it’s only for a couple of hundred yards and then onto a beautiful forest track that gradually climbs up past Welton to the open farmland of the Wolds and on the the picturesque village of Skidby. A short climb out of Skidby and you get your first glimpse of Beverley Minster in the distance. I was soon stood waiting to cross the busy A164 complete with roadwork’s, traffic was still queuing, but at least it did make it easier to cross. The A1079 however is not as easy, you have to walk a good mile in the wrong direction before arriving at a footbridge, but when you see the traffic below on this main artery into Hull, you realise that it was worth the walk. The sun was beating down, as I crossed the road in Beverley, and realised it was the road where the car was parked, the Minster was in my grasp, no easy way out for me, I thought, as I ignored the comfort of the car in order to complete my pilgrimage to the Minster’s gate. With this thought on my mind, I went on to get hopelessly lost on a new housing estate. It was only by seeking assistance from some bloke cutting his grass, that I could unravel the complexities of this un-navigable brick jungle, and I came out on a road across from the gates of the Minster. I swigged back was was left of my orange juice, arrived back at the car, and took my place in the traffic queue on the A164 I had walked past earlier, It was unavoidable, as I had to recover my bike, which was still chained up to the station railings at North Ferriby.
Always risky leaving the bike…
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Along the river bank and through the woods…
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Getting warm; don’t know why I came out blurred using the timer…must have been going too fast…
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Don’t you just want to follow that path…
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Almost there, Beverley Minster in the distance…
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The end, now a walk back to the car and see if the bike’s still there…
http://www.over50sforum.com/picture.php?albumid=806&pictureid=5877
I used to know folks from Beverly Robert, they were farmers but I haven’t heard of them in ages, makes me think about them again 
Beautiful place Freshfields, we visited Beverley last Christmas and then again in the summer. It seems caught in a time warp.
Makes you want to live there…brilliant area for running…
I agree, Beverley is a lovely market town, we usually park in Tescos, OGF, cos three hours gives us time to shop and have a bit of lunch in one of their nice tea shops. There are still loads of road works in the area but we’ve learnt to avoid them !!!
Love the photos.
Entry:-050315
With an Icey cold wind snapping at my legs I set off for my usual five mile: Thursday Edition.
I was keen to warm up, so at a swift pace I made short work of the street and Railway Bridge [that’s my hill work done for the day] and dodged two cars and a bus while crossing over to attack the field. It was while running through the wood that I noticed the ground was dry and firm, perfect for running.
I joined the road at the roundabout; not so much traffic when I get out early, and realised that I was still feeling strong and bouncing along. When I asked for more speed, my legs responded, and I got my first incling that this was going to be no ordinary run. At three miles I made the compulsory telephone call, and after tucking my mobile away in my pocket and struggling to replace my gloves, the pace quickened. Like the woods, the lane was dry and firm underfoot, and after avoiding an over excited hound I was back on my street and stopping the watch. I came to a halt on the drive, and with my heart beating in my ears, and fighting for breath, I glanced at the time…48:43…
2011 and pre-heart attack was the last time I came even close to that time…Awesome! Let Thursday Begin…
The thing that struck me reading your last post Robert was that having a heart attack has not put you off running. Very positive. It would’ve left some people terrified, I’m sure!
Once, after walking from Bridge of Orchy to Inveroran, I stupidly didn’t stretch my legs beforehand and ended up with awful shin splint during the night, which lasted for a couple of weeks. It was my first ever trip away on my own and long walk on my own and I just plodded on with the pain. Have you ever suffered from that? Or are you very careful about warming up muscles beforehand? I’m probably asking a stupid question because I’m sure you are well used to warming up before a run!
Myra, I think that having a Heart Attack is much like any other illness, given time, and a careful buildup, there is no reason why you can’t regain your fitness at some level. The doctor who was treating me agreed, and said that in most cases it’s the best way forward. Over the 38 years that I’ve been a runner, my body has adapted to it’s environment, and provided I don’t give it any surprises, is quite happy to cope with a sensible level of exercise.
Which brings me to your second point; It may surprise you to learn that I have never ‘warmed up’ before a run. My passion has always been long distance running, which requires a gentle pace from the start, no explosive bursts of energy as with sprinting. So easing into the pace at the start is more than a suitable warm up.
And finally; Most injuries occur in the early days of running and walking, like shin splints; asking the body to do something it has not prepared for. As I’ve said elsewhere, give your body time to adjust, and it will take things in it’s stride…
Thanks Robert :-D. You are definitely an inspiration to keep fit. You haven’t let your heart attack put you off. Other people might start cosseting themselves. Hope you have a great weekend http://www.freesmileys.org/smileys/smiley-sport033.gif. 
After a heart attack, the NHS send you for exercise and it appears a gruelling regime so maybe choosing to run and enjoy it is better than a half hour or so in a therapy class when you come out feeling half dead. I don’t have personal experience of this but my partner felt he was on the point of collapse after his therapy sessions.
Thanks for that Freshfields, yes, it was the same here, I was visited by the cardiac nurse who was quite happy to let me carry on with my running and walking, otherwise I would have to attend therapy sessions.
In my early days of running I used to subscribe to a magazine called ‘Runners World’ and there are a couple of articles I have never forgot: The first one refers to an American Cardiologist who started up a running club called ‘The Sickest Running Club In The World’ the only qualification required to join was to have had a Heart Attack. He trained his patients up to eventually run a marathon, and said that he got better recovery results from the runners than he did with those leading a more sedentary life style post Heart Attack.
The second story concerns a New York father and husband who had been told that he had serious Heart problems and not long to live, and he must quit his physical job in the construction industry. Having a wife and children to support he realised he could no longer afford the rent of their New York apartment. So he devised a plan to ensure the future of his family. He took out life insurance, and because it would not pay out for suicide, went out that evening in Central Park and ran as fast as he could, for as long as he could, hoping the inevitable would happen. At the end of his first run his heart was beating in his ears and he could not breath; but he did not die… He continued doing this and found that after a while he was able to run further and faster, and he recovered faster. He did not quit his job, but he got to enjoy running so much that at the time the article was written, he had successfully completed several marathons in very fast times. Furthermore, upon returning for medical assessments, it was found that his heart had returned to normal and was given the all clear…
It’s stories like these [fictitious or not, and some can be proven] that has driven me to continue the life that I love, I myself could be the author of a similar such story…
It also has been mentioned to me by several Cardiologists and Cardiac Nurses that; To continue with exercise following a Heart Attack stimulates the Heart into providing new routes for the delivery of blood to the Heart Muscles. It will even grow a network of fine arteries in an attempt to restore blood flow to the affected area…
Robert I’m the first person to admit I need to pay more attention to the health of my heart. At one point I was swimming before work each morning. That has gone by the by. I fully intend to start it again soon. Running must really make you fit, so I applaude you. I’d end up in resus 
My daughter is asthmatic and she found that with constant exercise, it improved her breathing. She went to aerobics classes on top of cycling and walking. She’s not a runner but they do a lot of walking.
Entry:-080315
My arms swung clumsily at my side, legs had a mind of their own, and my pace was laboured and erratic, not at all like the honed running machine of recent runs. I had just set off on my nine and a half mile Sunday escape to the country, but style and pace had deserted me; I struggled through the village and out on to the quiet country road, feeling more comfortable I began to disengage my mind and get down to business. Clouds filled most of the sky and the sun had risen and taken shelter behind them, a breeze gently pushed me along, it felt like a mild spring morning. I slipped through the gate and padded on the soft grass of the canal bank, the water, slightly rippled, lapped the sides and only distant birdsong broke the silence. I reached the little row of houses at the end of the canal bank section and as I passed, I noticed green buds appearing on the South facing Hawthorn hedges; not such a bad run after all.
I shuffled through the gate and on to the road, over a river bridge and once again the road stretched away into the distance and the wild countryside. My attention was drawn to the discarded items adorning the verges and dykes, I noticed pots, with bulbous peaty clumps spilling out, the plant had been severed close to the surface; I had come across these before scattered around the countryside, I believe they are marijuana plants, having had their leaves harvested and now of no further use. It is a sad fact that in these peaceful little villages there is a criminal presence waiting to make a fast buck out of someone else’s misery.
I’m on the same road that, as a schoolboy, I was made to run the cross country: I say ‘made’ because I hated it, being the smallest in my class it was a struggle to keep up, and I would inevitably finish last. So to escape the torture, my Mum would write me notes to be excused due to some fictitious life threatening ailment. Looking back though; nobody taught me to run properly, by adopting a pace that would see me to the end. If only my old PE teacher could see me now, I’d like to think he would be proud. I reach the point where the Cross Country course turns off the road and joins the riverbank, snaking it’s way back to school.
I turn for home, there are two remote farms on the left, and as I pass the first I can see a large black dog sat beside an open gate: It is a bad tempered Labrador, and we have locked horns before. I attract his interest and he comes bounding over accompanied, today, by two other dogs. He has not come for a stroke as he bares his teeth and snarls, trying to get behind me; the other two approach barking, I shout angrily and keep facing the black dog, he takes no notice, I stop running but maintaining a walk and still facing the black dog walk slowly backwards raising my voice, this time he responds and backs off, but the other two come round to the other side snapping at my heals, I turn and charge at them, shouting orders loudly, they appear momentarily taken aback and I make my escape. I glance behind and they grudgingly return down the lane back to the farm. Feeling vulnerable and shaken, I continue with my run.
Tiredness suddenly engulfs me, and my legs feel like lead, but I dig in, there will be no rest until I arrive home. With a mile and a half to go my breathing is heavy and beads of sweat trickle down my forehead. The decision to wear a running top was a bad one. With a mile to go, and exhausted legs begging for rest, I count down the distance left until I can stop. It takes forever to run the last mile through the village, but I reach my gate, and slow to a walk, stopping the watch I find something to lean on. Of the three times I have run this course [post heart attack] this has been the fastest, knocking almost three minutes off last weeks time. Now the autopsy: Did I misjudge the pace? Did the heat get to me? Was I affected by the angry dogs? Who knows, but sat here writing this feels like I completed a Marathon this morning. Time to recover before Tuesday’s run…… But one thing drifts into my thoughts: How do you know when you are having a good run, if you never have a bad one?
That was a tough one, but you knocked 3 minutes off, the dogs probably started the adrenaline working but you would think that dealing with them would have slowed you down.
Isn’t it bad what kids had to endure with those cross country runs at school, there was no comprehension of pace or technique or fitness level.
I’ve never seen the discarded marijuana plants, it’s probably happening a lot.
Anyway hope you have a nice restful afternoon.