Blog – Page 5

Joined the Caravan of Love

We chatted about it for three years, then eventually it happened. It was bound to – I nagged.

We got ourselves a caravan in the early part of the year with the aim of getting away a bit more often and a bit more easily whilst the children are still young enough. Lily’s 12 this year and has four years of family holidays left in her, going on what seems to be the average of friends about us. It was time to act.

Our first trip was on Elsie’s Birthday – 24th May. Frank had just reached the age where he could go out and meet other dogs, so we were free to go. We hit Lytham, for some beach fun. A couple of weeks later we went to the Dales to stay in Howgill in Wharfedale. THey’re just break – mini, simple breaks, but we’re really enjoying the ability to do this. The proof is in the pudding: we have a large tent, we have the ability to book B&Bs, but did neither. This is already happening – it’s working!

Some photos of our first two trips here

24 May ’1417 Jun ’14

Elsie’s 6th

We took the opportunity to have what may be the last chance for a big round-a-table tea party for Elsie’s 6th Birthday. They grow up quickly and the pass-the-parcel stuff doesn’t go on indefinitely. Elsie had a lovely time – as did we all. Parents dropped off, ten classmates went nuts for two hours, ate loads, played lots, then it all subsides so quickly. A really lovely load of compacted fun.

The party was hurriedly tidied away as we rushed off to make the most of the long weekend with our first ‘test’ family caravanning trip about 2 hours later… so birthday tea was a treat of Fish n Chips by the sea in Lytham, followed by a bit of a stay-up!

Photos here on Flickr

28 Apr ’1428 Apr ’14

Ten Years a Blogger > Happy Birthday, Minnellium

28th April 2004, and Dave, perhaps a little distracted at work, decides to start a blog.

“Minnellium” is a word I’d started to use for a music project back in 1999, as I’d worked on a Millennium Commission-funded project and numerous times people had got tongue-twisted and it made me smile, for some reason.

Initially, this was on Google’s Blogger platform, but I got interested in WordPress (an interest that 3 years later would lead me to a career-change) and I wanted the ‘ownership’ of something on my domain, so moved it from its old “blogspot” address to minnellium.com in 2005.

I’m definitely an uncomfortable and inconsistent blogger. Not an avid writer, just someone who enjoys writing when the mood takes me. In recent years it has definitely become more a diary than a source of opinion or reportage. If anything, the ebbing and flowing of what minnellium.com is / was / will be is its constant. If I was being grandiose about it, I could imply some tie-in with my ebbing and flowing life since April 2004. It’s been a busy ten years.

… but I think the ebbing and flowing of minnellium.com is not necessarily tied in with an ebbing and flowing life.. it’s just that sometimes I can be bothered to write, sometimes I can make the time to write, and other times, I just can’t.

It’s tempting to pick highlights. That’s going to be tough… and there are too many risks of missing some bits, so here’s a few random posts…. picked to show the diversity, I guess. A few words as to why I picked them

The unlikely adrenaline hub of the world: Rossendale, Lancashire
Life was changed. They built some amazing trails within a ride of my house, the weather was dry, and my interest in mountainbiking was dramatically rekindled
Elsie is Born
The blog ‘missed’ the birth of my first daughter in 2002. It was lovely to have my own personal media-frenzy when our second daughter was born.
Fell Running Results
A very simple post – just a list of the year’s results, but I do wish I’d kept a better diary of things like that – the blog has come and gone as a diary like that, I should have done better
Kitchen – Work in progress – house extension rebuild
Possibly the biggest moment of stress in the last ten years. We knew when we bought our home that the extension needed ripping down and radically rebuilding. It was always on the plan. But with a three year old girl, a cold winter, and a muppet as a builder, things got pretty hard. To get the kitchen installed – even in ‘bare bones’ mode, was just a massive relief.
A broken collarbone and 7 lug stitches
A low, yet somehow I like looking back at that time. I had a mega crash – my first ambulance visit – a real knock to confidence – a real load of pain. But it made me stronger, definitely.
2009 Three Peaks Cyclocross
The race I love the most and I reached the top ten at long last – I was, and still am, made up.
CD: Metamusic
The only CD I released in the life of this blog. I spent a load of time on creating 5 CDs worth of music in the late 90s and early noughties. I learnt a whole lot about music including the very important lesson that I do not have the time, talent or mental discipline to do it properly, but I do enjoy it whenever I get the chance to!

There’s more … there’s always more. Have a look

19 Apr ’1419 Apr ’14

Family Fun meets Setback Saturday

We’d been planning a lovely family get together for a few months now – taking advantage of a trip north by my southerly-settled cousin Adrian and wife Dee, coinciding with both their 50th birthdays. Heading up there today to catch up with our joint expended families meant 17 of us in one place at the same time – a source of great mutual excitement.

Indeed it was – great to take our new puppy Frank up too, and we swelled with pride and excitement.

But it seems the odds are stacked against us. Last time Adrian, Phil and I were together, things were cut short by a nasty bike crash for Phil and a trip to Lancaster Royal Infirmary. One year ago almost to the day, I dislocated my shoulder for the second time – leading to a series of further dislocations and eventually a ‘that’ll hopefully sort it’ surgical procedure late Autumn.

So today, passing a rugby ball in a leisurely and unaggressive way to my nephew Matt, a loud click and immediate realisation of that had happened to my hapless left shoulder made me cold – almost numb with a nasty, dark grip of sadness.

Day ruined, agony, trip to Lancaster Royal Infirmary, and some inconvenience – mental and physical – that I really thought I had put behind me.

We managed to salvage some of the early evening and it was genuine lovely in every sense to catch up with Mum, Phil, Ann, Matt, Helen, Angus, Alice, Adrian, Dee, Sophie, Isobel, Tyler, Katie, Jenny and Shay. Rough taken with smooth. Somehow a happy day, but definitely a memorable one.

A load of piccies here on Flickr

17 Apr ’1417 Apr ’14

Introducing Frank

After a few months of waiting, searching, and deliberation, we picked up our puppy, Frank, last Saturday. With the girls the ages they are (5 and 11) it’s such a precious moment and one perfectly timed with the Easter Holidays. I’d forgotten how having a puppy is like having a little baby about the place. Yes, they can stand on their own feet and generally are about 150 times more grown up (and more fun!) than a new born manchild, but there’s an awful lot of life adjustment that needs to go on. It’s all fun and special days, but we’ve already had to can a trip we were getting very excited about (in the new caravan – just to Phil & Anne’s overnight) and social plans for Easter are incredibly modest, but there will be no wishing the days away… not from me.

The camera has been out in almost unprecedented levels (saying a lot for me).
He has his own Facebook page (look – it’s just easier that way – rather than me cram my own timeline with him!)
I have captured everything apart from the lovely, lovely smell from the top of a puppy’s head. I wish I could bottle that. He’s gorgeous.

Some basics:

Frank is a standard Labradoodle. That means a mix of Labrador and Standard (i.e. full sized) Poodle. His immediate lineage is more Poodle, and this accounts for his rather thick hair.
He was born in Thornton Cleveleys, near Fleetwood to a litter of 8. Seven survived. He had two sisters – the rest were boys
We picked him up aged 51 days – he was born on 21st February 2014 and this is the youngest I’ve ever owned a puppy… he’s been incredibly good natured, not particularly yappy, willing to relax when put in his bed, and a bundle of fun when called upon.
He has clingon issues. I can see us having to trim there.
He has been given a number of informal names already by us all… including, but not limited to:
Frank Sinatra
Frank Zappa
Franco-Prussian War
Frankenstein
Frankie Goes to Hollywood
Franco Pacini
Frankie and Bennys
… but none of these will stick. Hopefully.

Our now elderly Labrador, Elvis, has a little less enthusiasm for our new friend than the rest of us. He’s always been a bit grumpy with puppies and sometimes with other dogs per se. It’s only been five days though and each day the snarling and lip curling reduces a tiny bit. I’m a great believer in letting jobs do the pack thing by themselves, but the parental reflex to defend the defenceless is hard to overcome. We’ll get there… I do hope so quickly, for Elvis’ sake, because the tables will turn in a few months as the aggressor becomes the underdog, inevitably. That’s how they do it. They’re dogs… we’re humans. Anyway… here’s an ever-growing live list of my Flickr photos tagged ‘Frank’ and below is a video of his first few days, and some select pics… as well as a reminder what Elvis looked like when he was a few weeks older than this, but camera film was pricey!

29 Mar ’1430 Apr ’15

A (nearly) Very Merry Clif ‘Cross

Sportives

I had a great time in 2012 riding the inaugural Mills Hills Sportive – my first ever ‘sportive’ cyclocross ride. It had taken me a while to ride a sportive ride – essentially a fun ride – after coming from a background of racing. It’s true there’s a good measure of snobbery in the relationship between racers and sportive riders. The gap is morally huge, but let’s just say it’s complicated.

On the road, the snobbery is he same. Probably much worse actually. My first road sportive was the Fred Whitton Challenge – quite a few years ago now. I dealt with it in the only way I knew – as a racer. I obviously (to me) had no chance of posting an impressive time (with it being so daftly hilly), so I rode as a dedicated domestique and helped firstly Stu Reid and Lewis Craven – then latterly Rob Jebb to put down some record times for the 109 mile killer of a loop. To me – it was a job – some ‘part’ of being in a race. That’s how I learnt to handle sportive riding.

But then, at the age of 43, last year, I turned up at one – in the middle of a long ‘out of competition’ patch – the 65 Roses Holme Moss Classic – with anything but a goal. I was unfit (nothing really to be fit for – at the time!) and there was no motivation to speak of – a funny place. But at the second feed of that innocuous ride – at some isolated pub in South Yorkshire – I suddenly got sportives. I was just enjoying riding my bike with people around me I liked. How simple is that?

Then some

So, the Clif Cross combined Sportive Riding with Cyclocross (route here). Not only that, but it combined all that with Calderdale – a lovely fairly local haven for off-road bikes. Add to that Alan, Carl, Steve, SImon, Phil, Budge… all those types of folk, and it was just going to be the best day out I’d had since my off-the-bike time in December

Every silver lining has a cloud

Except, things happen. Despite it being a great day and a top ride, an early crash by Alan soured things. What we at first thought was a ‘shaken up, best drive home mate’ crash, actually turned out to be broken vertebrae. Not nice.

4 Feb ’144 Feb ’14

Running: Winter footage helps get the job done.

I feel blessed.

As a cyclist, at this time of year, it can be a bit of a daunting time. Ancient myth and unchallenged tradition dictates we should be out there getting base miles in our legs. But just look out of the window. 6 days out of 7 since early December, it’s been blowing up some nasty storm or just plain rainy. Cycling is for the committed. Clearly, that’s not me. No way.

In the 45 to 75 minutes per day that I can generally put aside for sport, I need an escape from the desk, and I feel blessed that I can run. It’s so simple. When the weather’s wet, or it’s blowy outside, too dark to ride in complete safety, or just plain freezing, running generally still takes place in the same gear, give or take a layer or hat. You’re ready in 3 – 4 minutes, leaving more time for the actual good bit.

In contrast, I’ve found winter cycling, despite loads of lovely weather-proof clothes, a decent lightweight winter bike and all-important mudguards, more and more of a faff. After a bit of excitement after getting back on the bike post-operation a month or so ago (as I blogged here for Planet X), it soon came home to me how miserable it can be at this time of year, too..!

It’s the layers, the washing, the bike cleaning, maintenance, the choice of route to allow for being blown about the place, or even planning to get blown home… the random mechanical cock-up, the odd puncture… it all adds up to something that just means more and more faff – when you have a choice… to run.

Not that running is without its dilemmas, of course. I do enjoy the option where I live of the moor, the woods, faster pavement runs, fulfilling open-space quiet ones. It’s not a boring option. It’s no cop-out either.. Here’s the science bit.

The science bit

I’ve been reading mildly about views on this and although everyone has an opinion, it seems, the weight of it does tend to favour running as an effective supplement or even alternative to cycling – for cyclists. A 20 minute run taps into roughly same resources as a one hour ride (ref: http://roadcyclinguk.com/riding/cycling-winter-training-running-for-cyclists.html) and anyone who dips into running from time to time will know that – purely from how the body feels after 20 minutes. There’s fairly obvious use of more muscle groups in running, so fatigue effects kick in easier and hence lungs and heart have to work harder to sustain the effort.

It’s also, more anecdotally, good for the soul. The faff-removal in particular.In an October 2012 ‘serious’ bit of research by Øyvind Støren, published in the Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research, even with the partial substitution of running for cycling, a rider’s total monthly training volume dropped by 18 percent during this preseason period, but the amount of training he did in the range of 90 to 95 percent of his maximum heart rate increased by 41 percent. We know from our other winter cycling alternative as cyclists (the loathed but necessary turbo trainer) that high Intensity workouts Increases VO2 max – so does running.

Drawing the line

Although my running volume’s gone up a relatively huge amount this last few weeks, as the ‘January Run Map (right) shows, I doubt I’ll be doing any more running races this year than I have in the past. It’s a lovely, grass-roots, welcoming sport, as I know from the odd fell race I turn up to (usually two a year, max, these last few years) and the cross country leagues I’ve been taking (daughter) Lily to. However, I like to give things my best shot and in order to become a much better runner, I’d need to put in more time, vary my sessions, focus on different aspects… I only have room enough for one obsession and that’s biking. Running’s just a great, helpful alternative to training rides.

2 Dec ’132 Dec ’13

A proper season off

It’s the first cyclocross season I haven’t raced a single race since about 1994. If someone had told me a couple of years back that I was going to miss a whole season I’d have laughed at the unlikelihood of it all. But things happen. I was repeatedly dislocating my shoulder and, inevitably, things caught up with me and I needed to get the root cause addressed. That meant not only joining a waiting list for surgery, but also opting out of competition until it was put right (more thoughts on that here)

I managed to stay reasonably fit up until my operation on 25th November, but with the pressure of competing off, and a clear decision not to ride – at all – off road until I’m fixed – it’s amazing how the motivation to go out in poor conditions withers away. So much mañana attitude to fitness starts to kick in. Well… what’s the point in being fit if you don’t do anything with it, anyway?! I managed to run a lot more than I normally would. Running’s miles easier of the faff factor than autumn and winter biking, so it made sense to pop out and belt myself for 45 mins then jump in a shower, rather than do all that dreary getting-layered-up malarky

Corner-turning

I went in for my operation, and woke up dry mouthed and feeling miserable as you do with general anaesthetic. I had been prepared for a long recovery period, with six weeks in a sling, and all the misery and inconvenience that goes with it. I must say, right from the day after the operation, I have been very pleasantly surprised with how things are going. That includes psychologically, too. Whilst there was some pain and inconvenience, it was nothing compared to the worry that I was going to be strapped up and uncomfortable for a few weeks. I’m certainly not uncomfortable, and I have a lot more movement than I expected to have. I started a mini blog (here) to chart the progress of my recovery. I had been all over Google trying to interpret how people recover from the specific injury that I had (Bankart Lesion), and whilst there was a lots of glory videos on the operation itself, there seemed little material on recovery progress. It helped me, it’s cathartic to sit down and write, or speak to a camera, about things like that.

So here I am, looking at a few weeks recovery, and getting really motivated in ways I can’t describe about where spring and 2014 will take me. You sometimes need something like this to make you focus on things like that.

Aside from physical and mental issues, I’ve been keeping reasonably busy by doing those things I don’t get much chance to do. Watching cyclocross races is actually quite good. No, really.

Cheering self up

I have also had quite a laugh lately, by setting up a board on Pinterest with some shall we say unorthodox ways of carrying cyclocross bikes. It went a little bit viral, and gathered a lot of followers in a short space of time. Cheeky, I know. Schadenfreude is a simple, primeval way of making yourself feel better. It’s easy to be smug from the sidelines.

As usual, cheeriness also comes from mates. Teamie Alan Dorrington (right) has performed a great job of making me feel like I’m still involved with his Planet X cyclocross season in a subtle way, without making me feel envious or anything. Plus, he’s turned up at my house not once but twice, bearing pies and peas. That’s very good stuff.

Family have been ace, too, as usual. The girls are a load of fun and don’t really mind being dragged out to the odd cross race to watch as long as there’s something in it for them. Sweets, chips, etc. They

Sweatball

And so, to that getting started again thing. I have managed a couple of sessions on the turbo trainer already, with a rather nifty makeshift rubber sling, that basically holds my bad arm in a good enough position to perform the sweaty acts, without soaking my good sling in sweat. I will see a physiotherapist next week, and get some more meaningful arm-based exercises going, but it is just the best way forward for me at the moment to sit down and pedal. Your mind can get sorted out with a good bit of paddling. I spent so many years moaning about how miserable the turbo trainer is. Right now, it is the only thing that is keeping me sane. But crikey, I am so, so looking forward to getting out on a bike.

Thanks to Planet X for patiently twiddling their thumbs in the mean time.

Roll on 2014.

21 Nov ’1321 Nov ’13

The final bicycle-made-for-three commute of the year

I go in for my shoulder operation on Monday, and will be in a sling for the rest of the year.

It has been a lovely day here, and Lily capped it all by saying “We’re just ace” to me, as we flew through the village.

I know what she meant. Heads Turn when you ride along on a long, long vehicle like this.

Some young people would get paranoid and not enjoy the attention.

We don’t mind. We’re just ace.

7 Sep ’13

Lily’s Eleventh

Don’t get me started on the ‘they grow up quick’ thing. Lily, who was a babe in arms the day before yesterday, was eleven yesterday. Lovely quiet but perfectly formed day including

a day’s leave for me
bit of tolerable shopping for Converse for both girls
Ten pin bowling with Elsie and Lily
Lunch for us all at Pizza Express
Picking up Lexie and Leah, and a visit from Lucy to make too many children beginning with L party
Sausage & Mash and a Chocolate Fondue
Netball with gloves on because the ball was too hard for delicate girls

Video here and photos here

http://youtu.be/9V86lqXfZqw

15 Aug ’1316 Aug ’13

A change of direction.

It’s 4 weeks now since I dislocated my shoulder (for the third time) and had what I now see as an epiphany. I was unceremoniously dispatched to the tarmac at the Colne Grand Prix about a week after hearing that I needed surgery on the shoulder. It was inevitable in hindsight that it was going to pop out when my next crash came. Anyway… that’s the physical. It’s the mental stuff that’s been preoccupying me since then. That’s come as some sort of a surprise to me, in a way. It’s hit me a bit harder than I thought.

Let’s get this straight. The decision not to race until this is sorted is unequivocally made and not in question. The pain that happens with my dislocation when it happens is as near to all-consuming as I have experienced. To race – either a bike or fell running, would elevate the risk of a fall and I’m in no doubt at all that I do not want that.

I’ve yet to get a date for the surgery but am happy for now to sit it out. (It looks like October, if you’re interested)

There’s a few things that have caught me by surprise since ‘the decision’.

Routine.

The first thing is, life is about routine more than I realise. Bringing up children, I became aware of that. Routine is your best friend with children with so many things. It helps them immensely – and you – especially when they are very little. But I’m only just coming to realise how strong an influence the routine of my cycling life has had upon me over the years. This time of year is deeply engrained in me. The scene is familiar but the stage has been taken away. It’s the end of family holidays and about 6 weeks until the 3 peaks cyclocross. In my normal routine that means lots of things; coping with a minor weight loss burdon, running with the bike, hill reps, longer rides with the harder last hour, fine-tuning the bike, obsessing over minor frills, there’s a long long list (and each worthy of its own blog post over the years!).

But that’s all gone. I’m not riding the 3 peaks, and on the surface, that’s making things simple. Except it isn’t. It makes it strange, unfamiliar, partly exciting, mildly depressing, but very, very out of routine.

Any speed you like as long as it hurts.

Another thing I have come to realise is that I ride bikes and run because I am competitive in nature. I have ‘tried’ riding my bike a couple of times now in the last four weeks, and also ‘tried’ a couple of runs. (These are – by my own strict rules – away from competition. There is a clear self-preservation thing in me keeping me from situations where I might fall until the surgery and recovery has taken its course). I actually enjoyed both riding and running. But only because I went fast. I hurt. My legs hurt. My feet hurt when I ran. My chest was straining on climbs on the bike. I got in that zone as soon as I could. And that’s why I enjoyed it. I did try, when I set off, to go easy. I’d love to think that I could just go out for a spin… or for a jog… just an amble. That’s not going to happen for me. Not easily, anyway. I do try not to go hard, but it’s hard.

So, for now, I’ve decided to carry on not racing as fast and aggressively as I can.

The beaten track

I thought I’d miss off-roading on the bike, but I don’t. I’m really unsure as to why, but have an incling that this really won’t nag me too much over the next six months or so. I can – for the time being – get my fix of the rural by running, when I want (I’m permitting myself to run off road – just not go silly downhill*). There is a bit more faff in off-road biking and I’m not missing that at all. I can pedal on the roads, and I can run off. So that’s fine. Surprisingly fine. For now.

Mind Games

It may be a break from sport, but my subconscious has never been so rushed off its feet. All my holiday, I read tales of people’s cycling adventures. Those of my team mate Alan off in the Pyrenees were particularly, disturbingly envy-inducing. But even everywhere we went on our holidays, driving to chunky altitudes in the Picos de Europa up swooping smooth roads, driving through the dramatic tree-smothered hills of the Basque country, the swirling Mediterranean Carreteras of the Costa Brava… all of it was basically one huge monologue-to-self about how the Planet X N2A would feel swooping around on roads like that. An itch that will have to remain unscratched, for now.

It bled into my dreams and my sleep was disturbed by a combination of bike pining and worrying about my arm popping out. An comfortable mix of a mind not at rest.

On the up

Every cloud…

I’m starting to resolve some excitement about this rare opportunity to do a few different things this Autumn (aside from keyhole surgery and six weeks in a sling). There are a few things I can put to my advantage. I’m ‘watching’ my first 3 Peaks since 1994, for a start. I plan to do a bit of filming and make a short piece about a support team for the day. I can do things like ‘drink alcohol’ in September. That will be novel. I may even get to take Lily to some cross country races, or take Elsie to do a cyclocross without it all being a rushed compromise of a day. I can go on my friend Alan’s stag do without feeling guilty… and even attend his wedding in January without going straight there “filthy from the nationals” , as was the original plan.

It’s not all bad. Not by any stretch of the imagination. But it’s different. I must make a point of keeping a half-full glass. Unless it’s someone else’s round.

* Just on climbs – see here

14 Aug ’1311 Sep ’13

Summer Holidays 2013 – a Spain of two halves

We tried to combine the needs of parents and children this year – mainly to success.

The first half of the holiday, having flown into Bilbao and driven from the Basque country to Asturias, was a week in the Picos de Europa. The Picos has been on my ‘must see’ list for about 20 years and the wonderful blend of real, rugged mountain stuff and pretty, rural streams, gorges, villages etc. seemed right for a holiday. The accommodation – a couple of miles outside of Potes – was really lovely. Spacious self-catering agri-tourism and a pool too, to help us cool down after a long morning out and about. We also enjoyed a trip up the Fuente De cable car and a rather longer-than-eastimated nine mile walk down in the building heat. It was ace though.

Lasting impression, apart from the sheer beauty of the place, was that of a nice mix of tourism / services and proper unspoilt tranquillity. You can get the balance right in some places. Heartily recommended.

So, from the ying to the yang. We needed to go to the beach. That’s why Brits go to Spain, after all.

The 7 hours of driving across a whole load of Spain was a real treat. The topographic changes as we coasted from coast to coast were dramatic, exciting, rewarding, and spectacular.

Even the girls tolerated the driving quite well, really.

The second week was in an apartment in Tossa de Mar, Costa Blanca. Gorgeous pebbly beaches, impressive waves for the med, lots of swimming, nice pools, friendly campsite, cramped apartment, and lots of wine. It was fun.

Oh, and I grew a beard.

Photos here

Video here

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zHfs91C1Ng