Another week, another few miles...

On the morning of summer solstice I crawled out of bed at 3.45am, donned my running gear and drank an extra strong cup of coffee.  Half an hour later I was jogging up Castle Hill to greet the sun.  Strewth, I couldn't believe how many others were there already.  The car park was heaving, a crowd had gathered round the tower while various individuals and couples were spaced around the hill, all facing east to witness the imminent sunrise.

Solstice sunrise   (Click to enlarge)

At exactly 4.36am the sun duly obliged and as it peeped over the horizon a group by the tower began singing softly, words and music quite unfamiliar to me.

Solstice service.

Others, some in druidic robes,  appeared to be reciting a form of litany from sheets of notes.   Dressed only in shorts and vest I felt rather uncomfortable and out of place in such company so, after taking a few pictures, quickly scurried home.

Setting off on Saturday's run

 Weekend activities were a repeat of runs I've recorded scores of times in my blog so a few photographs will have to suffice.

The road loop

We set off on Saturday to run what we call the Appletreewick lollipop.

Passing the camp site

It goes mainly along the River Wharfe and back with a loop out onto the road and back round the camp site at the far end.

Burnsall Bridge

 We abandoned the riverside path at Burnsall Bridge on account of hoards of people with their children and dogs.

Anyone know what this is?

  We ascended a steep bank up to the Skuff road where we came upon a strange, tall plant that has only appeared this year.

Brakes off, full speed ahead

Once out onto the Skuff road we'd a section of fast running back towards Hebden.

 

  We were out of bed early on Sunday morning for another favourite run round Grimwith reservoir.

Foxgloves, orchids, yellow rattle and bugle lined our path back 'o Grimwith.

Amazingly, among the bracken we came across more of that strange plant we'd seen the day before.

Agitated mum

At the lagoon a mallard was very agitated as it waddled back and forth along the top of a weir.

Mother duck sliding down to rejoin her family.

 It transpired all its ducklings had been having great fun whizzing down the weir into the drain below.

Together again

They were all united in the drain below, though goodness knows how long it would take them to find their way out..

Early purple orchids

We left them to figure it out (the drain passes under the road and empties into the reservoir) and continued along the orchid lined path. 

Through thick carpets of alchemilla,

over the wee bridge, up to the car park and away home for porridge, toast and coffee

 - a well earned breakfast

A funny week......

My appointment classed as 'extremely urgent' back in April, the one I was advised to cancel my holiday for, finally materialised last Thursday - June 13th.  After getting up at 5am and booking into hospital at 7am, I was told I was second on the theatre list.   I sat around suitably garbed in theatre gown and compression stockings until 2pm at which point the surgeon, Mr Bryan, informed me he'd run out of space. 

 "I've arranged for you to be admitted to Ward 22 overnight and you'll be first on my list in the morning" he said.

Fast forward 18 hours and I'm sat there again with gown and stockings, starving because I hadn't been allowed anything to eat or drink, when a surgeon arrived by my bed, and it wasn't Mr Bryan.

"I believe I'm first on Mr Bryan's list today" I said to him.  

 "I'm afraid Mr Bryan isn't in today, I'll be doing your operation" he said.

(Like hell you will, I thought)

"I'm sorry, but I'd prefer Mr Bryan to do it" I told him.

So, I was given transport home and told I'd have transport back some time the following week.

I was in rather a bad mood when I got home!

After mulling things over I phoned the hospital and told them to forget it.   I'd been messed about too many times and had quite enough.   As I put the phone down I felt a great weight had been lifted from me.  I'd had a bad feeling about this operation from the word go and felt in my heart I'd done the right thing.

I couldn't wait to go for a run...

Meanwhile, Mr Nutkins cheered me up    (Click to enlarge pictures)

...goldfinches were back as soon as he'd gone

...and this little fellow seemed happy on my astrantias

I felt to be flying next day

especially on downhill bits

Things kept interrupting our Sunday run - like this orchid

...an oystercatcher

...a twayblade

...another orchid

but eventually we got under way.

...chugging up hills

...stopping for an occasional breather

...happy to be out on the trails again.

And that was the week that was, a great deal of frustration and not much mileage. 

Things can only get better.

One hopes!

Still running, sort of....

Hospital appointments are coming thick and fast, recently two a day at different hospitals.  Yet none of my doctors/surgeons/consultants have told me to stop running.  One was even inspired to start using his exercise machine again before starting work each morning.  Or so he said...
Hours sitting around in waiting rooms or lying on consulting room couches are taking their toll.  I try to stay positive by comparing myself to unfit and over weight specimens surrounding me - and that often includes NHS staff !   Come weekend I feel drained of energy and quite happy to relax with a cryptic crossword rather than run.
In spite of inclement weather last weekend my wonderful partner successfully eased me out of my rocking chair and lured me into the hills.

(Click pictures to enlarge)
It rained quite heavily a couple of minutes into our run and we almost turned back, but a patch of blue sky held promise of brighter things to come.
It conned us but we carried on.

As we plodded up the ghyll a cuckoo called incessantly, the first we'd heard this year, and it made our day.  Out came the cameras for a very short video to capture the sound.
Me running across is purely co-incidental!

Further up the moor signs have been erected for people to control their dogs during the ground nesting season.

Over the past few years numbers of pewit, curlew, redshank and oystercatchers diminished somewhat but now seem to be returning.

Each of the above mentioned species became rather agitated as we ran across the moor, an indication that many chicks were hiding in the grass and heather.

As we ran along they were dive bombing us, shoo-ing us off their territory, away from their precious chicks.

We stopped at one point to gather sphagnum moss for hanging baskets.

They kept up their relentless bombardment until we'd left the moor.

An oystercatcher stood on one leg and watched us, seemingly unconcerned.

We repeated the route on Sunday in more persistent rain, hoping to hear that cuckoo again, but we were disappointed.  The bird had flown, trailing those repetitive notes behind it to brighten someone else's day.

 Birds were still there and unwilling to make friends.

A curlew really got its knickers in a twist as we passed Scar Top house where chicks were dashing for cover.

We left them in peace and descended into the lush greenery of Hebden Ghyll.
Back to our crossword...

Celebrating my 87th......

Against doctor's orders I flew with my wonderful partner to the island of Menorca to celebrate my 87th birthday.   

After being called into hospital on a Saturday afternoon for a flexible cystoscopy I'd fallen out with the doctor who did it for wasting my time.  For one thing, it was Three Peaks race day and I was bladdy annoyed about missing it.

The camera he slid into my bladder was totally unsuitable for exploring the blockage to my Rt kidney.  He said I'd be fast tracked into hospital for another cystoscopy under general anaesthetic within the next few days.

"But I'm on holiday for a couple of weeks until May 18th" I told him.

"You'll have to cancel it, this is urgent and needs doing as soon as possible" he said.

Tough. "As far as I'm concerned, it should have been done today. That's what I was told I was coming in for.  What was the point in me coming to you if you haven't got the necessary equipment?   Anyway, our holiday is booked and paid for, so we're going".

And we did.

My phone was in 'Do not disturb' mode.  Daily missed calls and text messages were deliberately ignored until I got home. 

Anyhow, just to show how ill I was, here are a few video clips of my 87th birthday jaunt that ended with a nice bottle of wine, courtesy of the hotel management, while watching a beautiful sunset from our balcony.
 Make sure you go 'full screen' and have the sound on.

My new appointment still hasn't been confirmed. 

 It had better be quick because we've booked another holiday !

Run or Die......

With plummeting energy levels and having lost a stone in weight I thought it might be a good idea to see a doctor.. 

After listening to my list of symptoms, sounding my chest and discovering my systolic BP was an amazing 248 the young Dr Anwar seemed puzzled as to what the hell was wrong with me so referred me to the experts at Huddersfield Royal Infirmary. 

 "I want you to go home, pack an overnight bag and get yourself to the Ambulatory Assessment Unit as quickly as possible"

So I did.

Various blood tests, an ECG, ultra scans of my renal system, chest X-ray and Computerised Tomography scan identified one or two little problems that will require appropriate medication for the rest of my life. It could cost the NHS a lot of money for I'm not planning on dying for a good few years yet.

A Cystoscopy this coming Saturday afternoon (Three Peaks race day, curse it) and a biopsy of this 'thing' in my Rt ear could prove interesting too!

I mentioned to Alma, as the hospital doctor had introduced herself, that I would probably stop running after my 87th birthday in a few weeks time.  

 "Oh, I wouldn't do that" she said.  

 I may have to have a rethink!

Meanwhile, here is a little video of our Easter Sunday jaunt round Grimwith reservoir.  

You may recognize the tune...called 'Run' by Leona Lewis

How could I possibly stop running?

Spring? Or jumping to conclusions?

Back in February it was warm enough to run in shorts.  It even brought on a nasty spell of gardening. Ah, I thought, we're being blessed with an early Spring, maybe something to do with global warming.  Wrong.  Come March and back came snow and gale force winds.  But last weekend there were some positive signs Spring really is here;

 

Lots of catkins  (Click to enlarge pictures)

 

Blackthorn - as of blackthorn winter

 

Fields of lambs

 

Primroses flowering

 

..and this pair of mallard looking for a quiet pond

 Not to mention bees and butterflies on the wing, frogs piggy-backing in ponds, pewits wheeling joyously over their nesting fields and skylarks singing.  My wonderful partner has said goodbye to winter by taking a shovel and sand from the boot of her car.  

Winter tyres will be coming off next.

Oh, and this beautiful Camelia over the wall thinks it's Spring

Maybe I'm becoming nesh in my dotage but regardless of any original optimism Spring actually seems later.  Since our wonderful week in Madeira I've been reluctant to unlag my legs or 'cast a clout'.  I'm still running in a woolly hat.  And gloves! 

..and here's the proof - shivering over Bolton Haw Side,

running faster to get warm

 

...and back down into the ghyll under a threatening sky

 

Risking going a bit further - looking for early wheatears, but found none

 

..before eventually turning for home

 

..and speeding across the Miner's Bridge to get home before it rained. 

We did - just

I'm not sure where that speed came from for I'd been reluctant to go out after a strength sapping run the previous day. 

An organisation called Due North are staging a ½ marathon from the village of Burnsall on April 13th and we decided to suss it out.  Well, half of it, and maybe the other half next weekend.

 

Setting off on the Ist leg of the Due North ½ marathon

 - running due east along the Wharfe!

 

Leaving Woodhouse Farm for the steep climb up Kail Lane

 

Putting on the style - or trying to!

 

...and still it goes uphill

 

..until a level bit crossing a long pasture..

 

..over this cattle creep

 

...and getting a bit lost before reaching the B6265 at Dibbles Bridge, scene of a terrible coach crash in 1975

where I couldn't resist racing a cyclist to the top of the hill - and beating him.

Mind you, it wasn't Bradley Wiggins

 

Looking for frog spawn at Turfgate

 Mounting a stile and turning downhill for home

 

Crossing Hole Beck

 

watching pewits performing at Ranelands - by the mushroom field..

 

..then running down to Ranelands Farm with less than a mile to go for home

And that was it.

After 7½ miles and 800ft of ascent in that half a half marathon we unanimously decided we weren't fit enough to run the whole of that forthcoming Burnsall race.  We'll maybe just spectate!  Our other 4¾ mile run, looking for wheatears, brought up a nice total for the weekend.

 

I'd have loved a nice steak or roast partridge at the Clarendon but couldn't summon up the energy to cross the road!  

Maybe next weekend after we've tackled that other half....

....if I can still see after another syringe full of Lucentis has been pumped into my eye.