A pointless and impossible waste of space. And the point at which I had to take action to avoid losing my mind.

I was really looking forward to work on Wednesday. I had already had 2 days off which we filled with productive work on our house whilst I recovered from my cold. The temptation and guilt to go out on my bike was there but I avoided it with more rubbish to ditch; more stuff to donate and sell. We bought a new sofa to make more space in the living room and arranged for the old one to go.      

On Monday I saw Marcus at accelerate who turned me into a porcupine by filling me with needles and gave me some great advice to work on strength gaps which were causing me an imballance and basically, a very sore knee.

It worked.  By Tuesday I wanted to run and by Wednesday I was ready to ride first and then try running on Thursday.

Thank god I rode to work.

There are no words to explain the catastrophic destruction of my sense of purpose in my career.  It would be unprofessional to do so here but I basically lost all hope following what started out as a 10 minute monologue.  I cried until lunchtime before working the rest of the day, cried all my way home on the bike, half the night and into the next morning.  I went back to bed at 6am and slept until 9. before going to site and then crying some more on the way home.

Needless to say I didn't do my new leg exercises on Wednesday night.

On Thursday after rationalising with myself well into the evening, I was finally able to let go.  We went to the pub.  I didn't drink.  Christmas is going to be a dry one.  I did my leg exercises when we got home.

I suffered further meltdowns into Friday morning as I tried to do some work but eventually failed when I accidentally stood on my laptop, no doubt leading me into further trouble.  It is not a happy time and yet, there is a large part of me which can not fathom that any of it is my fault... except for the standing on the laptop thing - that is my fault.  So I shall move on, care for myself and slowly and purposefully recover in my own time this week.

This week in training

I won't beat about the bush.  This week has been a bugger for work.  Not particularly unpleasant because I now have a small team of two (me and AN Other) but just busy, wanting to do the best we can.  It's been... long.

After a tough trophy race in Durham I took the day off on Monday and took the car to work.  I needed it.  The legs were definitely on go-slow.  When people hold the door for me and I make them wait...

Tuesday I felt like I needed to make up for it and because it's Polo night for TSK, I don't have to rush home - or feel like I have to rush home.  It is effectively home alone night.

I took the bike in to work via the gym and a yoga session with Chris who was incredibly apologetic for missing his class last week.  After yoga I was still riding slowly to let the legs loosen up but made it in time for the working day to start well.

We worked until 7, getting costs into a spreadsheet and calculating pipeline losses.  Transferring knowledge to the next generation of engineers is way more interesting than doing the same old same old on repeat.  Still, by 7pm I was feeling invigorated and had been snacking on pistachios and goji berries all afternoon so I set out for a ride.  Typing this whilst gales and rain rage outside is weird but on Tuesday night the weather was sublime.  Within 20 minutes of riding I had to take my waterproof jacket off and unzip my fleece to the waist to cool off.

I was still loosening off really so the pace was steady along the bridlepath.  As I negotiated my way around the Penistone Road, the pistachios started to wear off so I decided to cut my usual route ever so slightly shorter and tackle the route to the (minor) Woodhead Road slightly differently.  I took one of those lanes that you always look at and think, "I wonder where that goes" and came out at the other end at a junction that I looked at last time and thought, "I wonder where that goes".  So result all round.

Less looking at the map this time, more clean riding so the route passed much quicker, which meant the climbs passed much quicker.  I was getting pushed up the hill by the early stages of Abigail's arrival so I can't claim all the benefit.

Before I could really feel the hill I was over the top, ripping down the dark woodland road and into Grenoside and the long climb over to Oughtibridge.  The pistachios were well and truly spent.

I whipped down Jawbone hill, carefully negotiating gaps in hedgerows where the wind swept me sideways.  I was trying to hold my line but it was increasingly difficult with an ambulance sweeping past me.  Clearly the wind was affecting my ability to descend this hill faster than the vehicles usually do.

At the bottom I was out of patience and sneaked up the footpath to avoid the one way section and put myself on the last climb out of Oughtibridge and down to Wortley and Stannington where my journey ends.  I walked in the door 5 minutes ahead of TSK.

On Wednesday I had definitely got into it.  I packed my running kit, full of the intention to get away on time and go out with Dark Peak this time - something I have been intending to do for weeks and still not quite made it.  

Wednesday was our review meeting and we were all beevering away to get the proposal into some kind of shape whilst all the concerned people were in the room together.  Conversations were ongoing till late in the afternoon and the reviewer was phoning his wife at 4pm to let her know he was going to be late.  Bollocks.  The group was on a roll and I wasn't going to be the one to spoil the party.

We didn't finish particularly late for a working day - the normal 5:30 - but it's just late enough to know that you're not going to make it to running... but just early enough to think that you might.

I tried to be clever, to take a different route into the city and a different route out to catch the traffic just right.  It had the opposite effect and by the time I had to call it on running, I was already out of the way of the house.  After my elongated drive home, I wasn't in the mood for discovering I'd left my keys in my other jacket in the office.

At least I still had my running kit with me and could, therefore, get changed and go for a run.  In an attempt to stem hunger pangs I had already consumed every half-eaten energy bar that was kicking about in my car and the bottom of my rucsac. I proceeded to get changed in between every passing commuter walking down the street (not that many by 6:45) and set off for my run.

I saw no-one out there except a large crocodile of (school / scouts) children clothed in hi vis and equipped with head torches which they kept shining in my face.  I almost hip-checked one into the river but otherwise we passed without incident.

After 28 minutes I was spent.  Not incapable of running but starving hungry and starting to get wobbly.  There was no point in me going straight home, I'd still be locked out.  I sat on the bench, turned my headtorch off and thought for a while about the coming weeks.  The passage of the 'cross season, weather, impending snows, christmas celebrations, projects, running, swimming, travel.

When I started to get cool, I made the decision to keep going.  Then I still felt wobbly so I made the decision to turn around again.  Then I realised I was almost at the end of the trail so I might as well run back on a different path.

Up to Rails Road and along the A57 for a short jog where I actually thought of running back the easiest way - along the road - instead of up the bridlepath it was so quiet.  Fortunately before the path began, 8 or more cars passed and persuaded me it wasn't so quiet after all and I set off up the rocky slope.  Running was by now out of the question so I continued walking, still thinking, musing, dreaming and generally enjoying my own company.  In spirit, I sometimes still walk with my dog.

It always impresses me that sometimes students make it out here.  I know runners and cyclists pass this way in the dark quite frequently but it's always nice to see the occasional group of drunken students in "civvy" clothing - just out for a walk.  They sit on the crag and drink beer.  It gives me hope for the future.

I dropped off the quarry path and set off down the trails which lead around the edge of Crookes, travelling slowly on my feet allowed me to carefully figure out the best way to Bolehills BMX track without getting too hung up on roads filled with angry and stupid motorists.  Although I had a headtorch with red and white flashy lights, I had no hi vis.  I managed the whole return journey with no more than 50m on an un-footpathed road.  Managing a run down hill but walking all of the rest.

In a timely manner, I jogged down our hill, just as TSK was texting me to say he was in.  It's a long time since I have been so close to chewing off my own arm to stay alive.  We ate dinner very late for the second night in a row and my brain chewed through both food and the complexities of my bid at work.

Everyone knew Thursday was going to be a long day so I at least made it to Yoga in the morning to give my brain a bit of time off.  I gave my grad the project to deliver himself and he decided to be out of the office on Friday so we had to get his bid ready on Thursday.  There were no excuses to be had.  I was prepared to work late Thursday, my body had nothing left to give so I might as well use my brain. After a difficult night's sleep my spine was twisted and contorted and I wondered if I'd actually be able to lie on a mat on a hard floor, never mind sit cross-legged and upright.  I managed it though and there was just the right level of twisting in the yoga practice to gradually tease out the stress and frustrations of the previous day.

I arrived at the office with a scrawled list of things that were left to do, all written between midnight and 4am.  We progressed slowly through the day then sat down to review and tick off the last items into the evening.  We printed, formatted, reprinted, picked through, calculated, almost cried, then fixed things again.  We ended the day with a quality document and all the boxes ticked.

That's it for Thursday really.  My brain was ready for reset button overnight.  I finally slept well, knowing that the proposal was in someone else's hands on Friday but Friday, as far as training is concerned was a write-off.

I headed to the loft with my laptop to do my timesheet.  Another 42 hours done by Thursday evening.  I kept the day to minimal input and broke off at 11 for a yoga session in the loft.  After lunch some minor details were taken care of but I was too tired to think and I packed my stuff away at 3pm.

Monday will be welcome as the first day in months without a fixed deadline at work.  The weekend will be even more welcome.

Work - Life Balance

 Tuesday I worked from 7am (on site) until 4.30 then set off for home. I had already lost sight of any chance to get back in time for swimming so I just got home and to bed after my 15 hours of a day moving what ammounted to a 200kg bucket of oil from A to B and back.

After that, I had Wednesday off, knowing that I had to drive on Thursday but hoping I might be able to ride it to Manchester.

Truth be told, that didn't feel realistic on Wednesday night so I took my running kit in the car instead.

After a seriously happy meeting (though with a few challenges) I headed home over Winnats pass - stopping at the end of Rushup Edge to park the car and head out for a run.

I got changed in my dry robe sat in the car as there was a lot of traffic and I needed to get out of office bra and into a running bra. The robe worked really well - just as much space, infinitely more dignity. It will be a great addition to my cyclo cross wardrobe.

I couldn't resist going over Mam Tor, even though I intended to go along Rushup Edge. Once on it I couldn't face retracing my steps past hoards of uni students out for a walk so I carried on to Hollins Cross before dropping into the Edale Valley, across the Mam Nick road then on to a valley path for wet feet and access to Barber Booth. The sun was beating down making it almost more pleasant in the shade than in the sun, if it weren't for the fact that this sun is such a bloody novelty.

After 50m I turned off the road again and traversed a few fields before climbing a big wall... I mean vertical path back up to the moor.

Eventually I rejoined the main Rushup Edge path and helped a paraglider to find the path as he was hiking back to his car having been blown up the valley by a particularly strong thermal. We had a chat for a while before I ran on to stay warm.

I got back to the car 10km and 1:29 later having taken a few photos and climbed the mountain at least once.

worky wirk work

Rest day from training today but a bloody productive day on site with a lovely drive home from Hazel Grove.

Wish I felt a bit more recovered.

One step closer

Today I rode to yoga on my way to work. What a great way to start the day.

Yoga was tough and my afternoon was mostly lost daydreaming of what lies ahead. I am finding an exciting project pretty unexciting at the moment because it's difficult for simple reasons. It won't fit. I don't know whether to mess with it and make it fit or give in and say, it won't go here,  give me another place.

I have come home to simple chores. Some pleasant ones.

I am trying to be calmly happy with my lot.

One day at work on my bike and two horrid days (1 in bed and 1in work) of trying to shake off some bloody flu virus that I have had since Austria. I had no choice but to stay in bed on Tuesday, I slept all day. I wish I had chosen to stay at home today but I picked up an interesting job and now have 2 weeks to do something impressive with it.

Worry Beads

Ladies who Lake

I started the day lazy. I don't sleep well at home at the moment. The snow was still falling at a rate that implied it would build faster than I could clear it so I had my breakfast and cancelled my review with my boss as he was in a row of 20 cars waiting to get towed out. As I sent a query to the customer about the state of their roads further North I saw the snowfall stopped, dressed in yesterday clothes and walked up to check the main road. Someone's car was being recovered from taking out the footpath handrail and I joined my neighbours in their debates about whether to risk it. I got the shovel and spent an hour shifting snow in 2 fine tracks from my car to the top of the hill. I sweated a lot but further to yesterday's post I found it absorbing, simple and therapeutic. I was a little concerned that after all the effort the car still wouldn't make it.

As the snow started to fall again I grabbed the car keys to move it before my tracks were filled again. To my absolute joy, no matter how I treated the Goji Golf it just eased its way up the hill. I slid back once. I found it ironic that the one person who had moved was parked outside the pub so I dived in their space and set about recovering the shovel and sleeping bag for the just-in-case and the essential mountain bike for my trip to the Lake District.

I popped in the office for my project file and lunch and coffee then continued on to my hotel.

The Lakes were clear but with snow on the cells. There were so many places I could have stopped on the way and done an epic ride but I didn't want to hurt myself and it seemed like such a pain to change my clothes and my plans in the car. Instead I watched the sun go down and followed a sheep trailer all the way to my hotel.
I was so glad I did. My room was exquisite. I still went out for a ride, tempting as it was to sit on the bed and stare.

The route started interesting, got consistent then steep. I kept running out of steam so I pushed rather than straining my calf on the bike. I zig zagged as much as possible though because walking was uncomfortable with the Carradice on the bike. The sheep eyed me through the dark, little green alien eyes glinting on the hillside. When it started to grate, I checked how much more climbing there was - not too much before I reached the top. Ahhh the joy of GPS. I pushed on and dropped over the top, views of Whitehaven, Workington and Sellafield streetlights opened up but sadly there was insufficient light to make out any of the fells ahead. I dropped off the back side of the hill, focused on the trail ahead, listening to the ice breaking behind my back wheel but managing to stay upright and mostly dry.

I joined a trail that skirted back around the hill I had just climbed, dropping steadily at first then steeper.  I thought it might be nice to do the route the other way around but loose rock and fallen trees put paid to that idea. It was enough to keep me engaged before the route opened up to track and I enjoyed the fast run out to the road. I unfulfilled the injured leg for the final stretch of bumpy path to ease the pain. Brilliant ride t hat totally justified the bath that followed it.

Now I am being wooed to sleep by an owl.

Page 3

I read this article yesterday (only just noticed the relevant title) which led me to  ask myself, 'do I like who I am when I am at work?'. The author is a project manager(?) who doesn't like spending time in construction meetings fighting over budgets.  Today I concluded that I do like myself when I am at work. Especially days like today when my knowledge seems valuable to others and I can share it fluently with a client who respects what I have to say. It helped that the sun was shinning and I got a ride on my bike last night.

As I drove home I listened to a radio program on radio 4 talking about our grandparents' generation being at their happiest during the war because they were tested time and again to their limits and I enjoyed the menial analogy with my own day - walking miles in the cold with a sore leg but getting on with it and forging friendships with strangers that I find myself thrown together with through chance and a common goal - to deliver the same project. With one half of my brain on my earlier statement that I like who I am when I do my job we agreed to let others argue over the finances and get on with the engineering.

I listened to radio 1 for a while. Snippets of information about page 3 girls being ditched from the Sun newspaper filtered through. First with a statement from campaigners about the objectification of women followed by the obligatory counter-statement from a topless model to say we were all missing the point that unrealistic womens' magazines do much worse for young girls mental opinion of themselves - presumably compared to middle aged men drooling over the prospect of her perfectly air brushed pumped up 26 year old (yes they specified) titties.

I wondered if I had ever done anything to hinder her career as a topless model and pondered at the years (and ageing processes) it has taken me to once again feel confident enough in my own skin to see today as a great opportunity to showcase my knowledge and chisel some ice (literally) without feeling smaller or the need to impress, just for being a girl.

Perhaps in the absence of a modelling career, someone would like to come and walk a mile in my steel toe capped boots?

Since political ranting on the internet is bad for my self-esteem I think I'll stop there and drink some more coffee whilst I get some work done waiting for the snow to stop falling so I can dig my car out and drive somewhere new to feel good about myself.

Recovery from Recovery

I took a recovery day today to allow my calf muscle to heal some more after all that I have given it to think about over the last two days.  It got as strenuous as walking into town via the Goodwin sports centre to check out the facilities and buying a book before getting the bus home.

It's been nice.  I'd like to say relaxing but I spent a lot of the time rewriting my training plan for this year which takes some time.

I now face the propsect of packing enough stuff to make a training plan happen in some way, shape or form, tomorrow and the rest of the week pretty much away from home.

Already I am planning my reclamation of Friday.

Back to work

A blur of being too busy, tryin to rest and then wake the legs up again in time for the weekend. Managed a sports massage yesterday while still high and an aerobic ride home. Now tired and grumpy.

The good news is that the bloods have finally been signed off by the doc - more or less - so time to get on with life some more.

Christmas Eve

Getting on top of things at work then Rita' s birthday party. So glad the worK year is over.

A great ride to work. A party that made me feel like a student again and a ride home that made me wonder at a university campus without students.

Good job cos I was quite drunk and nearly fell off my bike.

It's been such a busy week.  Thankfully I saw it coming and rescheduled my birthday from Wednesday to Monday which coincided worth REST day after Bradford National Trophy (another story). We had dinner then watched the Hobbit in 3D which made me quite excited.

On Tuesday I felt like running again so I drove in to work and ran home. It was ambitious since I haven't run more than 10k in a few weeks and wanted to try and make a go of the 100 runs in 100 days challenge. I already registered a day late and knee that a 8mile run would wipe me out for another 2 days. Still, by 6pm I felt like it and it was warmish and not raining.

I stopped to talk to payment on the canal and take photographs and hang out with polo guys at the court and then to the screenwriter and I cooked real food.

On Wednesday as promised, things got weird and I went out of the office into my spare room and stayed there till. Midnight except a break for dinner.

Two days and one trip to the pub later I am staring at another return to work on Monday as an opportunity to get shit in order before returning in the new year. It is such a relief to be able to talk about the order of the day again instead of running around like a headless chicken.

Friday I got my bid done and in. Essentially alone - kind of how I like it. I am giddy for real life but there may be softly softly.

Things that happened to me this day

My boss's boss today was reading from a script and thanked me for the 'work I had done on erm, erm, erm...' He got there in the end but frankly, the compliment was lost.

We watched a corporate pride video for the British firm which made some of us feel hypocritical at best, more, confused about the role that our bigger owners had in this video as we edge closer to German harmonisation. Bring it on I say (so long as we can lose Lotus Notes).

My boss led a session and again I disengaged when we were presented with the scenario of being on a family holiday 'with no heat and the wife is complaining and kids are screaming...' it goes on to question 'Would you cable a plug onto a mystery electric fire..'.  I decided it would not add much to the feminist movement were I to suggest telling the bitch to shut the fuck up and smiled boredly and gave all the right answers and smiled inwardly as my family holiday revolved around burning all of the furniture in the holiday home in order to stay warm.

What did make me feel proud today was the emphasis that the organisation is firmly putting on safety, finally and seeing the team in all its vastness of 14 sitting together to eat a meal together.

I did ditch the evening celebration in favour of turbo training and productive day on Friday. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep at the weekend if I didn't get some things well out of the way.

Turbo was good and hard but at the same time I controlled my effort, had a good discussion about practice effort and control then watched 2 tv programs before bed to properly relax.

If I were to blog today it would be naval-gazing drivel so I won't.

6th vet at the North of England champs should cheer me up but I am flat.

Crazy work life and exhausted.

To bed to hope tomorrow comes quickly.

Accompanied

It's no secret that my boss and I have had our differences but we are getting on ok now.  We are away for a meeting today.  We both drove here separately as we go our separate ways after.

As usual I have my bike in case I feel like it and my fell running kit. I have my bike rollers incase I have to rush to turbo on Thursday or in case the room and hotel are suitable for training.

For some reason,  when I arrive,  I decide to bring the turbo inside. I decide that no one will ask me about it if I just walk right in. It's only when I have checked in and squirrelled my turbo away that I realise I have not brought the bag to sneak my bike in. I will have to parade through the hotel with it before any of my colleagues arrive.  I don't want to have to explain to my boss why I have my bike,  never mind what I plan to do with it.

Unfortunately as I head back downstairs I find he has arrived and is expecting to meet me in the bar.  I can see my plan to do something tonight fading fast.

Perhaps a run but I only have 30 minutes before dinner so I lay out my stuff and go to retrieve my kit bag.  They are all at the bar and I resign myself to my destiny. Steak, red wine and not a bad dinner conversation with two others present.

I finally get to my room too bloated for any  training of any kind. I can't sleep because of the buzz of the power station out the window and it's too stuffy with the windows shut.  I fall asleep briefly only to be woken by a sick feeling.  Partly the steak,  partly the fear of having to explain myself in the morning trying to smuggle the turbo back into the car.  It's really playing on my mind. I also have no settlers tablets.  It's been a long time since I have gorged myself whilst out on a meal.

After some sizeable time spent on the loo and some next to it adjusting the size of my stomach... not actually sick but close, I decide there's nothing like fresh air.

I do briefly consider going for a ride now but decide a walk in the car park will suffice,  during which I can return my rollers to the car and never have to explain to anyone why they were in my room.

Thankfully I am right.  I write this (hopefully) cleared of my sick feeling and without guilt. Whether I wake tomorrow for my bike ride or not the secrets of what I get up to while I am away remains between us.

All I have to do now is hope the military police next door haven't cottoned on to the woman wandering around in the hotel car park carrying strange objects and wearing pyjamas.

It is an exciting life I lead.

so tiredd

I am so tired that I cannot see. No trainings, just really busy working

Garden of England.

I am working away from home tomorrow and have spent all day getting here.  For an hour before it went dark I managed to ride my tt bike into the sunset, turn around and ride back to the hotel.  No moisture is falling from the sky.  I had too many layers on.  Once I had pumped the tyres up properly I was flying along, down country lanes, breathing in the fresh air and trying to time it perfectly so I didn't have to ride too far without the back light that I had forgotten.

It's so satisfying to be able to do it before settling down to do a last little bit of work before tomorrow.  Make up for a few hours spent faffing, riding then sitting behind the wheel all day in the name of the man!  Tomorrow I will go and talk engineering and pipes and buildings then I will sit behind the wheel some more on my way to my next site visit.

I did get to cross a bridge today and will get to cross another tomorrow which almost makes me feel like I have passed into another country.  Alas it is only Kent.  On Thursday I get to take a delightful ferry but on account of the proximity of the site to the port I doubt I will feel like I have strayed far from anywhere.

Milford Haven to Seascale

On Monday night I went to see Ned Boulting talk at the Showroom cinema in Sheffield.  We left at around 8:30 then I headed home to pickup my passport for my site visit on Wednesday and I drove down to Newport in South Wales.  This took me until midnight at which point I spent around 1 hour faffing and trying to wind down from the drive, getting to sleep about 1:30am.

On Tuesday morning I left the hotel at 8 to get to Milford Haven for 10:50 to allow myself enough time for a site induction.  I arrived in town 45 minutes early then my head shut down and I spent the next 50 minutes making myself late.

After my meeting I started the long drive to Seascale to attend my Wednesday site visit.

The meeting didn't finish until 3pm so I had to eat lunch and dinner on the road.  I damn well decided to take some of my life back and stopped for a short run on the North Pembrokeshire coastline where it was pretty windy and I could only just see the sea.

I didn't feel like running at all on account of the raging headache and intense breeze but run I did - to a certain extent.  I didn't manage to run over to the very tempting crag on the other side of the valley but I promised I would visit it next time and ran around my particular hillock instead.  With all of these things, the trip back to the car is always shorter as you know where you are.

Despite the howling wind, it was pretty warm and I stood around next to the car luxuriating in the warm breeze and sitting out on the still-hot engine of the audi wishing I'd packed coffee before retreating inside to change out of my wet shoes and hit the road again.

The drive North from then was pretty depressing - especially when it got so dark I couldn't see what was going on around me.  I just concentrated on the traffic and drove until I needed more fuel then drove some more until I reached Lymm truckstop - last refuge before the M6.  At least I didn't need to worry about the sweaty runner look.

3 hours later and I checked into my hotel at Seascale complete with sea-view (well I can hear the ocean and I understand it is located on the other side of the road from my darkened hotel window).  It's still midnight by the time I've showered and gone to bed.

Morning comes and I am exhausted.  So exhausted that I turn my early morning run alarm off in my sleep and instead get up at 10-to-breakfast time.

I eat breakfast with my colleague. 

I go to site and discuss projects and measurements and I say reassuring things.   As the meeting draws to a close, I am starting to wish everyone would be quiet because I don't want anyone to say anything important because there's a high likelihood that my tired brain will miss it.  I escape unscathed, have my second 3pm lunch in as many days  which I eat watching 2ft waves crash into the sea wall, thinking about the Whitehaven killings as the stark memory of the police cars lined outside the caf where I'm eating my lunch comes to mind.  There's now a memorial in the park to all the lives which Derrek Bird stole from the villages in 2010.

I slink off back to my hotel, which I've checked into for another night and attempt to sleep-off 2 days of long driving evenings  in 1.5 hours.  I wake up groggy but have to get outside and do some exercise.  It's a day for the gym really, with the wind blowing so hard but nature's gym will have to do today so I set off on the bike after much faffing with bikes and clothing and my new light.

It's tricky staying upright but I hide behind sheep and undergrowth and I get 20 minutes of riding in  before the light goes on.  I've ridden out of the village and set off down a trail through a farmyard, field and along track.  I can see the iconic image of site on the horizon but unfortunately it's a bit too dark for the camera to capture it clearly.

We cross a hay field diagonally which is odd because the hay has been mown down to stubs which are just long enough to skim the bottoms of my cycling shoes every time my foot reaches the bottom of its stroke.  I can also hear the tyres crushing the stems as I ride in a steady rhythm of the tillered rows.  The lake district is tucking itself in under a cloudy duvet beyond.

My path stops at a meeting of the ways… and none of the ways are passable.  They're all massively puddled (not in the mood for wet feet), consist mainly of mown brambles or are made up of chossy grass-covered rock lumps which stop me with every pedal rev.  I give up and retreat to try another route. 

I ride along a bridlepath towards the coast line in the hope of picking up a trail which passes along boundary of open access.

I am riding alongside the Drigg storage facility and get the feeling I am being watched by some uniformed fellows in charge of CCTV somewhere.  I think of taking a picture of the "nuclear facility" signs but think better of it and ride straight through to the beach, just in time to see the last embers of sunset.

The expected tracks don't appear and I'm not for picking my way across the heathland in what is now quite serious darkness, no matter how strong my new lights are.

I've not been out for long and the hardest part of my ride was opening gates.  The most rewarding was this view and the most benefit I got from it was finding out how bright my new lights are.

I decided to call it quits at 7:30 and went for dinner.  Sometimes when you start work in a new area it's just about finding your way around, discovering which bridleways are good to use… and this case, which to avoid.  Tomorrow: the other end of the village.

Afterblog: In the morning, sleep and diligence got the better of me (initially) but since it was *such* a nice day, I had to stop and do this little run before I hit the M6.

Have to swim... have to.

Too cold and too out-of-bed-too-late to swim. Cycled yesterday. Hate the shuttle bus to site from the car park. Solution - drive, run, take swim stuff.

On the drive I peered down each street to figure out which to take for the beach access. My plan was to run to the site then overshoot to do the extra 5.6kms I needed to make up 11km.

Of course I couldn't resist turning off the first lane to get off-road. It stretched out straight ahead for 500m then turned 90° the wrong way. When I reached the zag that went with the zig there were signs forbidding my entry into what looked like an old RAF base that had been ruthlessly occupied by old ladies.  The only thing that kept me going was the tempting church and lighthouse on the horizon.

I reluctantly followed the footpath markers instead of following my intended direction. The lighthouse obliged, getting closer until I was able to use the luxurious facilities before continuing.  Aged tourist population is obviously good for something.

I hoped I would be able to access the beach by now but instead I had to continue along the top of the cliffs as they were steep and crumbling.  A person sat in a shack called "The Happisburgh Coastal Lookout", peering between a monocular and a laptop screen.  I dared not wave in case I still wasn't supposed to be there.

Perhaps the caravan park would offer a route onto the beach? Unfortunately, it seemed that many of the caravan pitches had followed the cliffs seaward and I ended up running up the camp site road to put clearance between me and the crumbling tarmac edge. I followed a dog walkers path through the touring site and finally found a sign for beach access.

I checked the Garmin. 4.85km!  I still had to make ground along the beach just to get parallel with where I'd left Maurice the Audi.  Then do the extra 4km to site.

The sign at the top of the path warned that "A lot of concrete and metalwork had been removed from the beach.  More will become exposed over time and removed from time to time".  Need to keep my eyes open then.

For a moment I thought I was going to be foiled by more excessive boudler-works to protect the sea.  There was, however, a clear route along the bottom of the cliffs - exposed steelwork, concrete (what looked like the remains of outfall pumping stations) and brickwork - remains of houses washed away by the ocean? - all in abundance.

I finally picked my way through all the debris onto open sand with only the sea crashing against the breakwater to keep me company.

Stones lodged in the breakwaters - above: new (Wooden) and below: old (rusty steel tubes filled with concrete)

This continued for all of the 4 miles back to Walcott where I joined the concrete sea wall and continued to run through Bacton village along the breakwater despite the sploosh of the ocean every 100m or so.  I was only getting a little bit wet.

Finally I reached the next run of caravan parks with all steps leading to (more) "PRIVATE" signs on gates so I dropped of the sea wall, safe in the knowledge that we don't yet have much privatisation of beaches in the UK.

Finally, my off-ramp to start my working day

At the end of my working day (shit - but thanks for asking) I decided to go swimming in North Walsham.  Unfortunately the swim club had monopolised the pool and there was no public swimming for another 2 hours.  So I took my hotel up on the offer of using the pool at their sister chain.  After 20 seamless minutes of never-ending lane changeovers (12m pool) I discovered my watch had only counted 9 laps so I threw a pissy and went to eat my dinner.  The changing rooms were freezing and I nearly ran naked back to the pool area to change my clothes.

Only one thing finished off the day as well as it started.  This, spotted on the back of a street sign in Cromer.