I went out looking for prawns and came home looking like a lobster

So yeah, I did the classic British thing of losing the T-shirt at the slightest sign of sun and got roasted. Good fun day; catching prawns for my friend’s project, lunch on the beach and a quick snorkel. It was a shame the water was still a tad nippy for comfortable head holding under, but i did manage to see my first ever Greater Pipefish in the wild, which was a surprise as I thought they were a bit more tropical. They look like a seahorse that someone has straightened out:



I need aftersun.

Fun in the Sun

I haven’t ridden my bike in anger since the Plymouth Triathlon all those months ago. The tyres still have a mud coating from that day which reminds me of the wind and rain that howled past my ears on that so-called summer day of July last year.
A late entry to the Taunton Triathlon in two weeks, and a few more race entries for June and July have pushed the motivation to train on my bike up higher than the level of continuing the Band of Brothers marathon I was enjoying 40 minutes ago. I pump up my tyres, fix a hand pump to the frame and throw a spare tube, some pound coins and a nutri-grain in my little bag that sits under my saddle. I take the front door key off my bunch and wrestle the bike down the stairs, through the doors and out onto the street.

I’ve never really been a natural on the bike. When I lived in Lancaster I once vowed to do a whole year of riding to work, and managed it, often swearing under my breath the whole way in as I battled the rain, snow and howling wind. That year of riding at least five times a week definitely made me feel stronger going up hills, but in races I’ve never felt confident I can compete as well on two wheels as I can in the swim and the run. On days like to today though those competitive thoughts get left behind, and I settle into the saddle, enjoy the sun and cool air and let the smiles take over I as eat up the concrete. I catch the ferry over to Cornwall and set off up a huge hill which doesn’t reach the top of the local land until 15Ks are showing on my computer. I pedal round this clifftop road for a bit and stop once or twice to take in the view of Whitsand Bay and Mount Edgecombe. My thighs ache with the new strain put on them, but I feel alive and enjoy the hurting. Eventually I feel the need for speed and head off in direction of the downhill. My destination, the sea and ferry is visible way out in front of me, all bathed in glorious May sunshine. I race downhill trying to push the numbers on the computer up above 60 km/h. On a steep open section, where I can see there are no cars or corners coming up, I get them up above 70km/h - genuinely exciting stuff - and I try not to think about what would happen if I fell off.

I get back on the flat and quickly after that back to the flat, put my bike in the dining room and wobble upstairs to change. I put on some running shorts and trainers and hobble downstairs and try to get into a jog. My legs are still in cycling mode, so it’s hard to get a long, straight stride going as my muscles still want to go round in crank sized circles. After a few Ks they’re just about being normal again and I head back home.

Really enjoyable day out in the sun. It feels like summer already. Tomorrow I’m making the most of my job and having a fieldwork day at the beach. Life is once again sweet!

Yey (4 weeks after) Easter

So the Blog has been neglected of late. I got invited to write a bit for a book chapter at work, so have been making my head hurt by working long days and nights, trying to make sense of the piles of books and papers from the 1980s on my desk. It is just about done though now, so I'm back doing a Friday afternoon post. (The chapter title, just in case you're interested is dangerously specific and boring, but includes something about fish mucus and its role in osmoregulation. A friend quite accurately pointed out that its one thing I should never bring up at a speed dating night -should I ever go one one.

I have partially written two posts that will now never see the light of day. The only one of note was about the Easter trip (Easter!? yes it was that long ago!) where I made some comparisons between last years trip and this years, and further more about my life becoming a series of annually repeated events. I did take the time to upload some photos of the south Devon coast, which I may as well keep in...

A rainbow:


The bay from Start point:


Start point lighthouse:


...which were all very nice. Otherwise there has been entry to some good multi sport races, a lot of running, then a knee injury, then a lot of swimming and now a chlorine allergy.

Overall post report:
C- must do better

Better is on the way

Bird, Hand, Bush, etc

I sprint through the car park rain and then laugh with the reception girl about how heavy the downpour has been. I scan the room and see the familiar faces are at the bar. On my way over I notice that everyone is wearing a suit and am glad I decided to dust off the Vietnamese silk and do the same. My friends see me coming and wait, expectantly. The recognition of their faces washes a recollection of my previous life over my senses. I get memories of previous laughs and achievements, and think back gratefully for fate giving me the chance to become friends with the faces I see before me now. Its fantastic. There are a few handshakes and a few nods, lots of smiles. The conversation begins a little formally but soon slips through the whats and whens of current work and finds its way into a pile of giggles and previous stories. Over the next 9 hours we have canapés, lunch and dinner, all washed down by drinks supplied by the free bar. I laugh so hard my eyes water, we make promises to arrange more meetings over the summer and take turns to talk our way down the paths our lives have taken since we all lived in that city up north.

At 9.30 its time for me to make my goodbyes. I’m sad to leave prematurely, but the group is beginning to fragment and sleep, alcohol, or both, has a strong grip on the remaining members. I drive off into the rain that has not relented all day, but my mind is not yet preparing for sleep. A random set of texts has made my destination a bar in town where LEA is out with some friends and has invited me to pop in to say hi on my way home. This is the first time I’ve seen her without the presence of our mutual friend, which adds an edge of trepidation as I park the car and run through the rain and shrieks of the city. I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing here, not sure what I want, or expect from this meeting, but my presence here is undeniable. I fear for a moment that the bouncer has not taken a shine to my overdressed attire, but a slight nod beckons me past a group who are in a vocal dispute with the cashier.

LEA is, as always, exceptionally friendly and seems glad to see me. We talk, flirt a bit, occasionally bordering into quite a lot, but my soberness remains in charge. After 2 drinks I say I’ve got to leave and I hug goodbyes to the group. LEA gets her farewell hug, but before I leave she says she is walking me to the door. Now we are on our own with another hug and a kiss on the cheek but the hug remains in place longer than it might. We have a brief conversation about the coming weekends Easter trip and another kiss. This one lands half on lips, half on cheek, and like the hug before it, also lingers for a moment longer than was originally scheduled. In my head I was going for the cheek again, but may have got drawn slightly off course by some gravity-laden eyes. This is dangerous ground. I pull away and pretend I hadn’t just read anything into what had happened.

Now i’m running in the rain for the third time today. I’ve got to get home and sleep before the Bath Half Marathon tomorrow but my mind runs a blur with what I could Vs should have done earlier on. At half midnightish I get a text that I expect to be from LEA, but turns out to be from the Twin saying shes drunk and is wishing me luck for the race.

Decisions.

I have finished...

...downloading and watching Prison Break. Its worth a watch, but is no 24. I have become slightly frustrated by the fact that the writers’ strike in the US has stopped both Prison Break and Heroes in mid series. I always assumed (quite naively, admittedly) that the writers would write the scripts for the whole series before they started filming. The reality seems to be that they write it on the hoof, giving them the flexibility to kill off old, and bring in new characters as the ratings demand.

...all the hard training for the Bath Half Marathon this Sunday. Just a few sprint intervals to do this week and I’m good for another go at getting under the magic 1h30mins.

...giving my first lecture. 10 years ago I was an undergrad in the same lecture hall. Last Weds I was teaching at the front. A nice moment.

...a year of blogging. Probably a month or so more in truth, but I was definitely in Hong Kong this time last year and remember writing about it, so I’ve made it through a whole year. Go me.

...over analysing what is happening / going to happen with the Twin and am just trying to enjoy what does and does not happen. ‘Date’ #4 last weekend of a slowly developing, but at least partially promising ‘relationship’.

...hoping that I will get someone into my room before the end of the month. The flat by the sea has worked out, but at the cost of two weeks with both rents. Thinking back I seem to remember saying that id happily do this if we got to live there so I guess I will get over it. The room mate hunt worked well to get a very promising 'random' into the flat, but has so far been unsuccessful in getting someone to take over my room at H-Bombs.

...laughing at Bristol Rovers 5-1 defeat to West Brom in the FA Cup. Just.

...this post.

The flat by the sea...

I had a 6 month changing moment last night. Psyc had another row with H-Bomb in the week which I overheard the end of as he shouted ‘well I think you probably should as well’ down the phone as I went for my shower at 7.45 am. Far too early to be talking, yet alone shouting. On the back of that he got motivated to flat hunt, with the plan being that he, one of his course mates and me will get a 3 bed flat/house and live without the wrath of the Bomb. He found one that sounded really good- three
double bedrooms, furnished, and was ready to move into as soon as- which was no small achievement in the Plym. Me and Psyc viewed it yesterday, with Helen, the Lettings person, at about 5.15.
The best thing about it is was its literally a stones through from the sea- the views are of gardens and the sea, and I stood on the seafront, as the sun was setting and marvelled at the possibilities of early morning swims, fishing, and balmy summer evening barbeques. Then we went in the flat and it got even better- the living area was 3 times the size of where I am now, and there will be half as many people. There was a decked terrace where my Brazil hammock would make afternoon chill out sessions a dream, and it had 2 power showers, a dishwasher, and a separate dining room with a roof beam to do pull ups on. There was also a single bedroom that I imagined we could either use as a study, or rent out cash-in-hand to some of the visiting PhDs we get at work for a few months a year- this would make it slightly cheaper than H-Bombs abode, with an order of magnitude more advantages. The only problem I could envisage would be deciding who got what rooms; there were two were large but normal doubles, and one that had its own floor, ensuite and separate mini roof terrace. I couldn’t stop smiling as thoughts of summer evening parties, making a herb garden, and renting a huge TV swirled in my head.

Psyc was just as keen. We are very different people, but get on well and have an understanding that I lack with the rest of my current housemates. He was sure that Aro, his Portuguese course mate would be equally thrilled, and set off to give her a lift to show her the area.

This morning Psyc comes down and shows me a text from Aro saying that after sleeping on it she’s not sure about the place, and whether we would like to go and look at a house in a different suburb.

So annoyed!

Shes not even been in there yet! My summer house dreams may be in tatters. Psyc has said he will try to convince her today, or else we could try and get a third person in. I’ve never done that before but it must be fairly easy? I’m so sure I want to live there I would happily pay the extra rent for a month or two until we found someone else.

On the drive home from our viewing I said to Psyc that it feels like something has to go wrong- we surely can’t be this lucky?

Well maybe it has. Aro, who are you and what are you doing?

Bomb Fallout V's Metal Fatigue

So the H-Bomb, that bitch of a so-called landlady, has disconnected the house's Broadband and TV supply from Virgin. This partially explains my lack of posts over the last few weeks and fully explains my lack of watching Dave- the freeview channel that was excellent. You don’t miss these things until they’re gone.

I went to a gig in Liskard last night. A friend is an engineer, and he works with a load of old guys who have a band doing classic rock - occasionally bordering into metal - covers. Their name, Metal Fatigue, is quite simply brilliant on at least three levels. We got a minivan over to the next county and felt like minor celebrities as we talked with the band at the bar while the locals looked on at us whispering 'that’s the lot who've come over from Plymouth, that is'

I've always been one for trying to appreciate new music and bands, and dont own a lot of music that wasn’t released in my era. It’s not because I don’t like AC/DC, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin etc, but just because I don’t relate to the people singing it as well as I do to the more up to date bands. With all that said, there was a moment last night when I was stood in the bar, 5 pints of Tribute down and I was struck by what an absolutely brilliant song Wish You Were Here is by The Floyd. Maybe it was the beer, the setting, my emotions or soomething else, but I thought it was purely fantastic. I’ve listened to it about 6 times this morning already and although I've now got the hangover, rather than the enhancement, of fresh alcohol to interpret the words, it makes me think deeply about what they mean to the guy who wrote them, and especially what they mean to me.

The test of time is the hardest of all to overcome.

...which Metal Fatigue's valentine song (to the tune of Slade's 'So here it is Merry Christmas') probably won’t:



Good fun though.