Archive for the ‘running’ Tag

Running Month in Review: July 2018   Leave a comment

 

“On The One” Brolly Stand, Ruislip, Middlesex 21 July 2018

 

Total for July: 0 miles but trying to live life On The One, regardless.  Only four new pubs added to the list, but we revisited some cracking old pubs in my convalescence.

As of this post, the longest run I’ve done since 02 June is down a rail platform, two sets of stairs separated by the tunnel at Harrow-on-the-Hill Station (and the tunnel) and partway down another platform (maybe 100 meters all in).  Physical therapy continues, now 8½ weeks into at least 13 (and possibly 26) of weights and yoga.  Still in pain, but much more bendy.

 

 

So, I am moving around slow enough to notice different things (like the Bootsy Collins Boot-shaped Umbrella Stand) than when I was running 40-50 miles per week prior to crippling myself.  For instance, this is not the 2nd sighting of the Red Shorts Blue Shirt phenomenon (nor even was the first mention of it in this diary amongst the first 10).  But, now I see it everywhere.

 

 

Granted, some things were only noticed after a prolonged and complete stop.  One day, my bus to work came to a halt here:

 

 

Listening to some podcasts from news outlets in the States (da fuck is wrong with your government, kids?), concentrating on some ligament stretches the cramped bus seating allows, and studying the scene out my window, the scene, below, flashed at varying pace and intensity until it dissolved away and I found myself studying a similar landscape near Dahlonega, GA for a few moments.  A lorry zoomed past and rocked the bus and me back to my documentable location and I noticed there actually was a strobe light in my field of view:

 

 

Varying from 90 to 160 flashes per second (faster than which it blurs to a mostly continuous glare), the polished fins on this vent pipe reflected the sun for an instant as it past by.  The fins are twisted slightly and as the morning progressed, the flash point creeped downward .  I’m so fucking bored, not running and all, that this was one of the highlights of the month:

 

So much so that I didn’t even bother to get a decent photo of the item.  Kind of like this:

 

 

Not hungry when we passed it this weekend, I shortlisted this chippy (for the sign, alone) in West Drayton for a fish lunch on the run if I ever run again:

 

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Posted July 31, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in art, Running

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Running Month in Review: June 2018   1 comment

 

A colleague introduced me to a lab visitor as a runner at the beginning of June.
“No, sorry. I’m afraid I gave it up.”
This news seemed to shake his grip on all that is holy in this world. “Really? When?”
“A couple of days ago.”
“Oh, so just a break, then?”
“No. When something is hurting you that much, no matter how deep your love for it you have to walk away.”

Persistent pain and weakness in my right leg led me to accept, after the loop run through South Harrow and Rayner’s Lane on June 2nd, that a period of enforced rest coupled with some targeted physical therapy was long overdue (my GP, also a keen runner, agreed and gave me the proper names so I could say more than, “hurt here, make stop, please”). It appears, more than anything, to be a strain or tear of the TFL combined with Iliopsoas Syndrome and a tight IT Band (ITBS).  Now 4 weeks into an initial 6 week recuperation, I can report….

The convalescence has also put a major dent in the number of pub visits I have to report as well as the amount and quality of the sightseeing available to me.  Hopefully, I can slowly return to running after Bastille Day (that will be at 6 weeks), but the tendon may need 12 (and maybe up to 26) weeks of low load conditions.

Pub visit write-ups are really taking a hit.  Of the first 94 pubs this year through the end of May, 88 were associated with one run or another; none since then has been on a run and as a result I can only hit a new pub if it happens to be nearby.  I guess my liver and kidneys are getting a well deserved rest, as well, but fuck ’em: we’ve been at war against one another too long for this truce to last.

Stats for June: 9.8 miles in two runs and approximately 45 hours of stretching performed along with a far too gradual shift in diet to complement the change in exercise regimen.

 

I am depressed:

 

Posted June 30, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Running

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The Oyster Rooms, Fulham, London   Leave a comment

 

Pub #2132:

Sunday morning run took me through Hammersmith too early for a beverage there so I continued to Fulham Broadway, arriving in the Oyster Rooms at 08:58 am.  “Is the bar open?”

“In two minutes,” and I put in my order.  The beer was placed before me and the waitron stood poised before the register for the next 15 seconds before we could make our exchange.

 

 

I had beaten the rains and slipped past a bunch of singing football fans in front of the building.  The fack are they DOING here, I wondered.  The season is completed, surely.  Oh, well, at least they weren’t aware of the Wetherspoons upstairs; quite a civilised refuge this visit.

 

 

Posted May 29, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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The Bull, Gerrard’s Cross, Buckinghamshire   Leave a comment

 

Pub #2130:

I found my way through the ancient lobby of the Bull and carefully weaved a path past taffeta dresses and mourning suits with lapel carnations. I was now another 1/2 mile farther along on the run from Hillingdon than I was during my pint stop at the now-much-more-modest-seeming Apple Tree.

“Wedding?” I asked without response. I tried again, “funeral?”

“What do you mean?” The bartender asked. I took my beer out to the far end of the expansive garden to minimise my offense to the celebrants/mourners.

 

 

Posted May 22, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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The Apple Tree, Gerrard’s Cross, Buckinghamshire   1 comment

 

Pub #2129:

I didn’t hold much hope for the Apple Tree based on its web focus on dining and, upon arrival, the decidedly upscale environs. But, as I dragged my sweaty ass up to the bar I realised that — at least late Friday afternoon — half the receipts are down to various members of the building trade.

 

 

I took a Doom Bar out to the shade of the eponym and surveyed the assembly. Yup. Mostly labourers and skilled tradesmen, a few locals in middle class drag, and a handful of Americans who I assume were in the area (Gerrard’s Cross is a few miles directly above Windsor) to watch the semi-successful actress marry the unemployed ex-squaddie who still lives in his mom’s house.

 

Posted May 22, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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Off The Hook, Kidlington, Oxfordshire   Leave a comment

 

Last Thursday was another unseasonably warm and sunny one in Oxford so I headed up the canal path for a bit of a run.  The podcast I was listening to ended at about 40 minutes and I took the first road thereafter into Kidlington to find some nourishment and a bus back to the labs.  The piece of cod from Off The Hook with just a little more than a splash of vinegar and no additional salt was precisely the right answer to the quick lunch question.  Yum.

 

Posted May 21, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Fish and Chips, Food

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The Market House, Brixton, London   Leave a comment

 

Pub #2128:

It was balmy Friday evening in Brixton and a brief run followed by a brief run-into with an acquaintance left me thirsty.  “You goin’ that way, mate?  I’m barred at all those.”  We agreed to meet closer to one of the not-in-central Brixton drinking establishments next time and I wandered through the market for supper fixings then spotted the Market House across the way.

A fellow former-American, he has lived in the neighbourhood the last four decades and, through a mutual friend, discovered some mutual interests…pints, music, livin’ life on the one.  And, through this occasional meeting of minds I’ve gotten to know more people in Brixton than I do in Ruislip.  And, I love this area; but, it is rapidly turning pale white as yuppie American kids move in, inured to much worse crime and rates of crime and happy to tough it out as settlers for a couple of years while their houses increase in value an order of magnitude and everything that made this a cool neighbourhood gets priced out.  I’m almost certainly a part of the problem, even though the only white guy I know down there is kind of exiled from Dulwich and has probably spent a viable portion of his life in HM’s prison system: despite my horrifying appearance in most of the northern suburbs where I live I am still good (perhaps “safe”) optics and blunt the edges of some of the more vivid street life.

 

 

It was with some trepidation, therefore, that I ventured into the lily-white and disturbingly American confines of the Market House.  There were a couple of black gents near the window seating I gravitated toward but they seemed to also be in the business of gentrifying the area (albeit in the trades). Okay, to be fair, if it is happening anyway then at least hire local.  And, I may be overstating the dangers of upscaling a bit.  I mean, the menu will at least be Caribbean food, I thought.

But, noooooooooooo … chicken wings and other American bar fare.  And, fries.  Fucking fries.  I am in Hell.

 

 

Posted May 17, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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