Welcome Autumn

Today is Autumn equinox, the traditional start of Autumn up here. The weather makers seem to be well informed of the dates.

We had beautifully sunny weather all of last week. Then yesterday it rained on most of our run. Now there’s a forecast of rain for this whole week.

It’s getting chilly in the night. I’ll take out one of my duvets this week.

It’s getting darker in the mornings. I can keep the south-facing window in front of my desk open all morning—seeing the slowly shades turn from black to dark blue black, then through various shades black and blue, into bright blue. Or if it’s cloudy, into a dull light blueish grey.

The leaves had already started turning colour. It’ll still be a month or more before the autumnal colours really shine but the shades are already visible occasionally.

The garden has noticed as well. There aren’t as many apples on the tree as before. The petunias are almost gone. Berries are fully ripe, which means they’ll soon start turning black and dry. The begonias are still thriving but the geraniums have reduced flowering. And the grass in the backyard never fully loses the moistness from the morning dew.

One of the good bits about autumn—apart from the beautiful colours and dark mornings—is that it’s my favourite running weather again. I don’t need to care about the warm and hot days. It’s the season of running in cool fresh air, with an occasional shower and often lots of mud. The runs will be harder—summer’s hard ground provides better support than the muddy or boggy autumnal trails. But the runs will also be far more pleasant. Continue reading Welcome Autumn

Unfaithful

Chewie is my favourite running partner. Runs with him are, on an average, 274% better than runs without him. Just watching him run—along or ahead—gives me an extra 50W of power. Chantries is our favourite running ground. We both love running up and down those trails, specially the sections through the dense trees where few people walk.

I took Chewie for a few Parkruns years ago. His competitive spirit, and my inability to run like the wind meant I had a torrid time. He used to drag me around for the first couple of Km. Then we’d run together for the next Km. And I’d have to drag his sorry, tired ass around for the final 2K. He didn’t know how to pace himself when there were other dogs to catch and beat. I didn’t know how to run at his blitzing pace.

There was also the matter of his loud howling and crying with excitement as everyone lined up for the start.

I took pity on both of us and stopped taking him along. He enjoys lazy Saturday morning cuddling up with R in bed till 10 or 11. I get to run at my own pace.

A has been asking me if we should take Dudley for a Parkrun. Dudley is lot more people friendly than Chewie, and has a more tempered approach to life (and running). It may be easier to run with him.

I’ve been strangely non-committal. The reason is that Parkrun is my time to mingle with all the other dogs—Jasper, Danny, Lizzie, Archie, and all the other lovely 4-pawed lovies. It’s the one time of the week I’m openly unfaithful to Chewie and Dudley, and give undivided attention and love to my other friends.

Taking Dudley might shift my friends’ focus from me to him. Dudley (and Chewie even more so) may not be so amenable to them meeting me as usual—Jasper jumps up and hugs me on my shoulders, then rubs his sides on me, then sits down between my legs, my hand in his mouth, and begs for belly rubs.

My dogs may not take kindly to my unfaithful actions :)

Continue reading Unfaithful

Shifting expectations

When I went for Parkrun yesterday, I hadn’t run much all week and still was feeling sluggish. I also hadn’t eaten anything all of Friday. So, I planned to keep it steady and hoped to finish in around 25 mins.

I felt good on the warmup jog, so by the time the run started, was hoping to finish under 25 mins.

When the timers announced the time after the first lap, I was surprised to hear 11:35. That was unexpectedly fast! Maybe I’d gone too fast on the first lap. I’d probably suffer on the second lap and run it in maybe 12:30. I was hoping I’d make it 12:24 on the second, and scrape in under 24 mins. I hadn’t run sub-24 since late June, so getting a time starting with 23 would be a good boost.

I finished the run, met the dogs and the humans, and went for the cool-down jog. When we were back at the car, I tried to estimate my actual run time by subtracting the warm-up and cool-down times. It seemed to be about 23:23, two seconds faster than my fastest time this year. However I’d been late starting my watch so I didn’t know what the official recorded time was.

When I got the official result a few hours later, it said 23:30.

It was my second fastest time at Guildford Parkrun this year, and the 3rd fastest ever. So I am surprised to discover that I was disappointed at that result!

I went in planning to finish in around ~25 mins. After warm-up, I reset that expectation to sub-25. After first lap, I was hoping to sneak in under 24 mins. I finished in 23:30, and was disappointed because I wasn’t another 6 seconds faster :/

How quickly and easily does our brain reset expectations?!

Mi chico no está bien :(

He hasn’t kept any food in since day before yesterday’s lunch. Threw up Wednesday’s dinner, and all three meals yesterday.

I gave him half his usual lunch, soaked and soft, yet it came back up.

I gave him a small amount of rice with chappy—his usual bad tummy diet—but that came up too.

Worse, he hasn’t asked for his breakfast today. He’s clearly uneasy, and not in his happy state.

Neither am I.

Continue reading Mi chico no está bien :(

Up & down

Yesterday I was happy. I ran. I had both the boys with me, and both were in a happy, loving mood. I did a lot of work. Good work. I’d finished reading my 36th book of the year, and started a new one. I saw the final episode of season two of ‘The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel‘. I went to sleep, happy.

Today is not as good.

Boy threw up in the night. Then again a few moments ago. This means there’s no running for him (today), or me (this morning).

What’s worse is that I felt a sense of relief on realising that I don’t have to run this morning. This is not a good sign. It’s a very bad sign.

The morning started bad when I drank yesterday’s leftover coffee instead of making a new one today. Then I topped up my blood caffeine levels with a tea. Both of them before 07:30.

At 08:30, I am feeling the too-much-caffeine unease and the boy is feeling post-throwing-up unease. And yet, we aren’t hugging and laying in the bed. I’m working (except for the break to write this status update), and he’s sleeping behind me on the carpet.

Hopefully the pendulum will swing again and we’ll both be on the up by the evening. Paws crossed!

Small wins, small celebrations

YESS!!

Awesome! Duesome! Cuesome! Pawsome!

After a week of research and 2 days of implementation struggle, I just got the first step to work.

I may have celebrated too loudly in my chair, arms up in the air (like I just scored a goal). The boy got up from his sunny lounge to come check on me :)

Time to reward him with a walk. Continue reading Small wins, small celebrations

It was a good run

I went out and ran, about 10 mins after posting the last post. Writing the fears our helped.

It was an easy ~11 mile run on one of my regular circuits—Mount, Sandy lane, Loseley park, Artington, Shalford, town bridge, riverside and return through Sandy lane. I changed the return loop today to double over the Artington—Loseley section.

The run started well when I met my favourite doggo Toby on the warmup lap. He was busy sniffing something in the woods but came running as soon as I sat down and called him. Checked with his guy about cricket; he didn’t look too happy. Met Toby again on the lap return. He refused to leave the path and go with his guy. Waited for me in the middle of the path, tail wagging furiously. I love that kid :D

Running form was really good, and legs were feeling nice after last night’s stretching and foam rolling. Didn’t feel a thing in the back.

I saw a way marker for the Pilgrim marathon—out local trail marathon—on the Sandy lane. That’s the return route. I didn’t see any runners so thought it must be late. When I reached Loseley park, I saw a steady stream of runners returning. Turns out they’d reversed the route this year to celebrate an anniversary run.

The next section, all the way to Shalford, was fun. I cheered and encouraged all the runners. Most said a nice thanks. Some just smiled. Some grimaced… but that was really a smile that came out as a grimace after 18 miles on sandy, hilly trails. I understand their suffering; I’d run this race as my first marathon ago years ago.

The section from Shalford to town bridge was fast and normal. Didn’t meet any runners, dogs, or dog runners, or runner dogs, or any other interesting thing. It was nice though—mostly in shade, good running form, only gently rolling except for the Ferry lane.

Oh I did meet a cat. It was at the top of the Ferry lane climb. That’s my usual breather spot. Just as I stopped, this cat came to me, meowing and rubbing herself on my legs. I squatted and gave it a few rubs. It instantly wrapped herself between my feet and started arching for the rubs. She wasn’t happy when I said goodbye and started on the run again.

Ran from near the town bridge to St. Catherine’s docks on the riverside. First bit had a strong sweet smell of MJ. Next bit was full of young couples holding hands and walking on the riverside. The final bit was the best.

Met a young man carrying a little dog. The dog had decided it was tired after some running around, and was making dad carry it back. Reminded me of the days when Chewie used to pull that trick on me :)
This one was just 13 weeks old—only his second week out into the wild, wonderful world. No wonder he went bonkers and emptied himself.
It was also funny hearing about him from both the guy and his partner. Even though he was carrying him, she seemed to be way more excited about the puppy. (Again reminded me of our situation, where I got the dog and took care of it, but R sounded like she was the one bonkers about him)

The final section back from St. Catherine’s to home was hard. I was getting thirsty and tired. The lovely ladies at the Pilgrim marathon feed-station at Loseley park offered me water and cookies. I didn’t take the cookies, but water was more than welcome. We chatted a bit about the new route, the weather, and the runners. A mile later, I met the final (on my route) set of Pilgrim marshals. They remembered me from my run out—brown guy running around in Surrey countryside while loudly cheering all those runners. They cheered me on my way back over the stiles and up towards the Sandy lane. Taking the Artington route instead of Sandy lane had been a good decision!

It was on Sandy lane that my legs finally started giving up. It may have been the heat. But I guess it was also the realisation that all I’d eaten all morning was a peanut butter toast. (Though with enough peanut butter to feed a small family in Eros). The run up the steep Compton down was a killer. Probably the first time this year I had to take a break on that climb.

I managed to finish with a small first gate loop to take it close to 11 miles. Even on that, I couldn’t manage my usual sprint over the last 300m.

Despite the slow, painful finish, it was a good, happy run. Toby, Pilgrim runners, the cat, the 13wo puppy, and all the Pilgrim volunteers made it great. Even the golden retriever who teased me with his confusing mix of barks and tail wagging approaches helped. Glad I went out :)