D4D

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Farce about Ace

In my standard way, I’m doing some things in the wrong order over the next few weeks.

As I’ve said before, on Saturday night I’ll be doing the Shine London Night Walk, which will be interesting, to say the least. I really don’t know at the moment what to expect, and it’s preying on my mind a bit (actually more than a bit, but there we go, not long now) as to how well I’ll actually do.

Once that’s done, and whatever recovery process is under way, I’m also going to be taking myself to a chiropodist/podiatrist, and getting the problem areas of my feet sorted out.   And that’s what’s backwards.

Of course, If I’d had any sense (or done any real preparation or organisation) I’d have been doing the “sorting out of feet” well before it was time to walk 26-and-a-bit miles on them. But I left it too late – and in fairness, it’s only in the last month that I’ve been experiencing any real pains or problems with my feet. But fixing the issues now would result in greater problems by the weekend, so there we go, backwards organisation it is.

In fairness, this way will probably kind of be in the same vein as the whole [x] Anonymous thing, of having hit rock bottom and the only way being up.  If I present my feet to the chiropodist/podiatrist in the expected post-Marathon semi-knackered state, that should be the worst they can be. Which will mean that only good things can result in the treatment.

Well, that’s the ‘plan’, anyway.  Only time will tell how it handles first contacts with reality…

Stratford

Over the weekend, I went to Stratford-on-Avon.  It’s somewhere I’ve only been once before, and had thought it was a long drive to get there.  Then when I got in the car on Saturday morning, I discovered it’s actually only 70 miles, and so only just over an hour.  Why had I thought it was much further? Because I’m an idiot – last time I went, I travelled via Cheltenham, for lunch at Champignon Sauvage (it was part of my Michelin Project last year)

So I got there a lot earlier than I’d originally planned/expected to, which gave me plenty of time to wander and explore the place a bit, and do some other stuff as well.  Last time I went, I got mislaid a couple of times (not majorly – it’s too small a place to get properly lost in) so I wanted to do things differently this time.

I really enjoyed wandering around – or at least until midday or so, once the coach trip people had all woken up and descended on the place, along with usual weekend shoppers and the like.  But it’s a nice place that’s easy to walk around, and my mental map of it is now a lot more comprehensive.

Then I met up with a friend, M, with whom I was having lunch, and then seeing a play later – see, there was a reason for going, it wasn’t just random!

We had lunch at Salt, a passion-project restaurant for the chef, Paul Foster, who used Kickstarter to fund getting it running. That was thoroughly enjoyable, and is definitely somewhere I’ll be returning to next year when there’s other RSC stuff on that I want to see.

Afterwards, we had some time to kill, so sorted out booking into our respective hotel rooms, then took a ride on the Stratford Ferris Wheel, and then pre-performance cocktails at the RSC.

Finally, we saw Coriolanus at the RSC (about which more another time) , and back to hotels.  I’d booked the room before realising how easy the drive home would’ve been, so that was a bit of expense I won’t need to make next time, but it still made for a decent weekend away from home.

For Fuck’s Sake

Last night, I went in to my local Tesco.

And was greeted with this.

No, Tesco. It’s September. So you, and your “Christmas is coming” bollocks can fuck right off.

A Week Off Kilter

For some reason, all of this week I’ve had the wrong days in my head.

I didn’t write anything here yesterday, because in my head it was Thursday, so I didn’t need to.

This morning I was waiting online to buy some tickets that go on sale at 9am on Friday, and was getting annoyed that they weren’t yet available.  Which is, of course, because today’s Thursday.  (And I’m an idiot)

I don’t know what’s knocked things out of alignment. I haven’t had any nights of particular bad (or even particularly good) sleep that might explain it. I’ve not done anything particularly differenly to usual, but my week is a day ahead of itself. It’s all very odd.

 

Healing Heels

Over the last three weeks, I’ve managed to damage and hurt my feet more than I have in the previous year or more.  And it’s all preceding a walking marathon at the end of September, so it’s been a little bit stressful.

It all started (as I wrote at the time) with an ill-fated walk to National Burger Day, during which I discovered I’d destroyed the insoles of my current walking boots.

New boots obtained, I wore them and tested them on the 3rd September, with walking to and around Meatopia, then going on to do a concert in them. All told, I was on my feet – in new boots – for 16 or 17 hours, and while I didn’t actively damage myself on that one, I was definitely hurting by the end of it, and changing shoes to drive home was a joy.

Then over this weekend just gone, I went back to London and did an eight-mile walk – but with different socks. And because of that, I ended up with a huge and red-raw blister on one heel.

I’m done now on distance walks until the actual event at the end of the month – so everything will be healed up and fine by then.

As it is, though, right now my confidence is at a low about completing the marathon.  Events (and boots) have conspired against me somewhat, and I’m just trying to decide on my best options at the moment, whether to go with my old (and broken in) boots with new replacement insoles, or stick with the new boots and decent walking socks. Honestly, I don’t know which will be best.

I’ll still be going, and I’ll be doing my best. I’m still 75-85% certain I’ll complete the course.  But if I’m in danger of causing myself serious harm, I’m going to stop and not complete it.  I’ll do my best, but not at the expense of serious damage.

And if I do drop out, I’ll sign up to do next year’s one instead, and be better prepared for that.

Broken

In what’s becoming a bit of a theme this year, I broke myself a bit last weekend, and the recovery from it has taken a while.

On Saturday, as written about previously, I went to Tobacco Dock in Wapping to attend Meatopia, and then a concert in the evening.  It was a day that I knew was going to be silly, and I’d prepared as much as possible for it.

The plan was…

  • Drive down to North London, park up, and get the Tube down to Euston
  • Drop off a bag at Euston’s Left Luggage office, to collect on my way back
  • Walk the five to six miles from Euston to Tobacco Dock.
  • Go to Meatopia, eat lots, walk lots, etc. etc.
  • Walk back to Euston, get my bag, get changed
  • Head up to Camden (by Tube or foot, depending on timings)
  • Meet other friends there, have some food, then go to the concert
  • All done, walk back to Camden Town, get the Tube up to where I was parked
  • Drive home.

And it actually all pretty much worked out. I ended up getting a Tube back to Euston – although we still walked from Tobacco Dock to Tower Bridge, and then from Euston Square to Euston – and didn’t get changed ’til I was at my destination in Camden, but that was the only real difference.

By the end of the day, I’d been on my feet – in new boots – for about sixteen hours, and it’s fair to say that I was sore and tired. Indeed, I changed my plans for the following day, and spent it as a quiet one, rather than doing a similar walk by going back to Meatopia for Day Two.

And after that, I kind of crashed, in my usual way. By Monday I was in the throes of an evil cold – not flu or man-flu, just a cold, but enough to leave me feeling like shit. Colds and chest-infections are my weak-point, they’re always the sign that I’ve hit my limits – and when I stop after being busy for a long period, they’re always what I go down with.

So this week has been spent working through a whole hail of sore throat, phlegmy chest, and generally feeling like hammered shit. I’ll be fine, and it’s on the wane now, but still, it doesn’t make for a fun time.

Sisters of Mercy, Camden Roundhouse

Over the weekend, I went to see the Sisters of Mercy play one of their only two headline gigs in the UK this year, at Camden Roundhouse.

I did have reservations about it, as they’ve not recorded any new stuff in decades. I’d been fairly disappointed by the last time I saw them (a long, long time ago – although I did think I’d seen them in between times somewhere) so it was a bit of a crapshoot.

Anyway, I still went, but with the aim of expecting very little from the concert – and as it happens, I’m really glad I went.

The gig itself was brilliant – and others thought so too – with all the old favourites played, as well as some lesser-known stuff. The set-list was in a different order to that in the linked review, but that’s just semantics.

Regardless, it was a great gig, and I’m really glad I went. Long may they continue – and maybe there’ll be a new album sometime soon. We can but hope.

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