I’ve never read The Tale of Two Cities but that incredibly well-known opening line from a novel sums up my 2015 3 Peaks. Okay – it wasn’t quite the worst of times – far from it – but when things are going really well, it seems to emphasise the problems when they come. And they came. But more on that later. I wanted to gather thoughts whilst fresh in my head as usua ...[Read More]
The teens are here. Very weird how it all passes so fast – it never ceases to be weird. Lily… the little baby who slept for hours on end in a pram, got carted up mountains and on countless runs in a 3 wheeler jogger is now a huge giraffe-like girl who does the jogging herself.
I pick my events to blog about. I do quite a bit and blogging about them all like some training diary could get dull. But in my modern era (i.e. since I started blogging in 2004 and started collecting GPS data in 2007) the Golf Ball fell race has been covered with almost obsessive regularity.
I often spend time thinking about my local treasures but so rarely spend the time to sit down and write anything. But today I went a ride with cycling friend Alan Dorrington over Rooley Moor Road and I found the route inspiring enough to speak out.
Since we got the caravan early last year we’ve been building up mentally to the big one. It’s very special for me to do a road trip like this with the children in the caravan because it bears an amazingly close resemblance to my own memories of the same in the mid 1970s. My dad would take us all down there over two days’ driving (on what was, presumably, less fast but less busy r ...[Read More]
We had a relatively quiet one for Elsie’s 7th. A friend Lucy and one of Lily’s friends came over and we went to the Jump Nation trampoline place in Manchester. An hour was easily enough. Red-faced, whacked out and happy, the girls all came back and we had a mini party lunch at home. Sally, Simon and the boys came over in the afternoon along with Grandma and Alice and another treat te ...[Read More]
No matter how I try, I can’t just let the 3 Peaks Cyclocross happen around me.
A gap year I’m coming back. The race that first sucked me in in 1995 has provided every emotion to me in the intervening years.
After a few years of overseas holidays in summer and winter, we spent our first summer at home for 5 years. We headed up to Scotland – lured in part by the Commonwealth Games, and part by the year’s big purchase of a touring caravan, we had a two-point holiday over a fortnight.
A family milestone reached in seemingly no time. In September 2007 the little girl (pictured right) started at Broadway Primary School. Just about to turn five, Lily was definitely ready to start school, but it still seemed soon, and she seemed so little.
I’m writing this very early on a Monday morning after what I have to assume was just a fantasy – a dream lived out in immense detail. I woke up ealy feeling still adreniline-pumped from a dream so intense that it felt like it had actually happened to me.
I rode my bike a long way. And with a lot of climbing. That’s all.