I'm still here

This blog is proving very hard to maintain. I'm finding myself in a situation where time and energy never seem to come together long enough to sit down and write an entry. I seem to be able to write code even while I'm almost asleep (although I wouldn't want to vouch for the quality), but writing words are a different matter. I did get another wonderful run in around the woodland park here next to Balbirnie House. It was hard not to restrain myself. I feel like I'm rediscovering my running mojo. Still planning to join the lads up to Ullapool tomorrow if I can get everything done in time - which will involve another late night at the hotel here and an intense morning. I really need to unwind a little!

Manic

We're training another set of users in Holland on Friday and they're going to be using the shiny new live version. This means that I've got to sort out all the nitty gritty little things by then, the jobs that tend to get put off until the last moment, bits and pieces like postcode validation for a different protocol and providing Dutch translations for key terms. The mind also gets highly focussed with just a few days to go, and all kind of trivial little bugs (that have been sitting around unnoticed for months) come to the surface. Once one gets spotted it's impossible to ignore, despite that fact that it has been happily ignored by everyone for so long before.

Had to head into the office for the afternoon but I was determined to get out for a run first. There was no time really and the only opportunity I had to stretch was during a couple of phone calls I had to take. This is time management being taken to ridiculous extremes! But I did run for about 40 mins and therefore about 4 miles, taking into account stops to look at the views (which were rather beautiful in the hazy autumnal light, the sun just beginning to break through the morning mist). Once again, the calf felt fine for the most part, tightening up just a little towards the end of the run.

I enjoyed a very rare evening off, going to Pictureville with M, failing to get there in time to see the intended film, but watching CSNY Deja Vu instead, the story of .... It was very well put together as a documentary and the quartet ( average age of over 62) were all looking pretty damn good, and very articulate. It was great to see so much fire in the belly after so many years. And why shouldn't there be? I trust that my passion for life will still be going strong in 10 years time, and more, but it's always inspiring to see it in others.

'Rest' Day

CKZ and AC are at Warwick today showcasing the software at a conference, and it appears to be going very well. There was a kind of official launch and everyone is keen to start using it as soon as possible. Lots of enthusiasm. Lots of plaudits. But I've been chained to the computer all day again, rewriting some key components in the light of experience and much better understanding. It's been a bit of grind though. In trying to solve one problem I uncovered another, which first had to be solved, which in turn revealed another problem. I got to a point quite quickly where I lost sight of the original problem altogether! It's at such points where it can all get overwhelming, but then you start to sort things out and unwind the chain of problems, and suddenly the way forward is clear again.

Despite the hassles with the software I guess I didn't mind too much missing out on all the back-slapping and general smooshing at Warwick. It was important that I was on hand tonight to help out with Maths and English homework. The diligence as far as the schoolwork goes has not yet dissipated away! So, a day of rest from exercise but I feel far from rested. Didn't even get to do too much stretching. At least I have quite a few issues sorted to show for all the effort.

Out-sprinted

A long day and night at the computer, but I did manage to punctuate it with a 4 mile run on the moor and a 23 mile ride on the bike with the boys. I'm heeding all the good physio advice and balancing things as much as I can. M's orders were to go very easy on the run and stop for some stretching. This is I managed to do, largely courtesy of very heavy legs from yesterday's efforts. I ran out to the Swastika Stone and back, using the natural rocks at the mid-point to provide means of stretching out all the relevant muscles.

I had suggested a bike ride to my lads earlier in the day but by late afternoon, with a bit of drizzle around, my enthusiasm was waning. No.2 son was well up for it, though, and he was the one who prompted us all out. We headed out to Bolton Abbey, then the gated road past Hesketh Farm to Embsay and back via Barden Tower. I've ridden this with No.2 son a few times in the opposite direction and have wanted to introduce him to the descent from Halton Heights for some while now. They both loved it. No traffic on the road so I was able to avoid using the brakes completely. It never ceases to provide an adrenaline rush, cornering at the bottom at well over 40mph. We were all on a high after that and the pace kept up pretty well. The customary sprint at the golf course was won by No.1 son who came from nowhere to steal it on the line from No.2 son. I can't work out how hard I was actually trying. I was last and would like to think I could have given more - but I'm not so sure.

Birthday Boy

I've got quite a few weekends away in the next month so this weekend really has to be a working one. It also happens to be No.1 son's 17th birthday. I was hoping to get both sons out for a bike ride, to make the most of a rare bit of good weather, but it was impossible to breach the apathy barrier. On any other day I would have vetoes their objections, but I had to let the birthday boy decide for himself. He was happy to have a quiet birthday, going to see a film in Leeds in the afternoon and then dinner out in the evening. He very much wanted to see Step Brothers, but I made an executive decision and persuaded him to go see Pineapple Express instead. Equally silly and violent, but at least done with style and wit and high production values. It was a truly guilty pleasure to watch, one of those films that you enjoy far more than you really want to admit!

The only problem for me was watching it on a beautiful saturday afternoon. After so many wet and miserable days it just did not seem right to be inside and missing the sun. At least I did get out for a rushed run before we left. About 4 miles on the moor at a good pace - possibly a little too good a pace for I felt the calf tighten a bit towards the end. I wanted to make the most of the time I had!

Anyway, No.1 son seemed to have a good birthday, although he blew away the evening dinner, prefering instead to have a quiet evening in, watching some of the DVDs he received as presents. Like father, like son in so many ways!

Bike/Run Balance

It's very late right now, and as I still haven't had a chance yet to blog anything about my trip to the Czech Republic I thought I better just let friends and family know that I ran my race, finishing in the top half of the field (just!) and had a truly wonderful time. I'll hopefully get to post the details over the weekend. 

Since getting back it's been completely crazy. Not a spare minute to be had in any day. I'm struggling with the workload. That said, though, I have prioritised the training today and did get out for an easy 3 mile run on the moor at lunchtime (legs still feeling heavy) and then, as I couldn't persaude either of the boys out on a rare nice evening, hit the "3 hills" on the bike and quite surprised myself with an effort that turned out to be only 10 secs off my record (32.52). I pushed hard, and I died more than a little on the final climb up Monastery Hill, but I'm taking it as a sign that my bike fitness remains good despite the distinct lack of recent miles. I felt the calf tighten a little on the hills, but it seems to have stretched out again now. I'm going along with M's training advice and feeling rather optimistic about a good winter's running ahead. I just need to ensure that I make enough time for the stretching and the bike/run balance. Hopefully, reporting back on this blog will help!

Feeling Heavy

Overwhelmed

Back with a Bump

Mixed Bag of Pleasures

The World Masters

I felt that I should have woken up ravenously hungry but I didn't really have much appetite for breakfast. I was very much aware that the calf was still tight and also that the last time I was in this position, a few months back, racing when not absolutely sure of the wisdom of doing so, I tore a muscle just half a mile into the event. Having travelled this far I couldn't not race, but I didn't feel able to get into a racing frame of mind. It was all about simply finishing the event without causing myself damage. That was my personal race. At least I was in a better position than M, who had collected her rented mountain bike and would hopefully have a good ride to the top of the mountain in support. On the other hand, with the skies as clear and the temperature as warm as predicted, perhaps she was going to have a better day. I never go well in the heat.

There was quite a bit of time to kill in the morning, but it's amazing how much got absorbed in collecting numbers and chips and faffing around with shoes and kit. Before we knew it the first race was about to start, the V75 and V80s and it was truly astonishing to witness how good these people looked. Could I possibly be that fit in 25 years time? It was inspiring to see. I was actually quite glad that they run a shorter course than us so no embarassing comparisons of time could be made!

With half an hour to go before the start of the race I began to get in the mood a little - despite E asking me if I was limping! The legs didn't feel particularly zippy but after some gentle warming up the tightness seemed to disappear at least. Psychological? I really don't know. My head was more into survival and enjoying the experience rather than racing and I thought about this odd fact that 90% of the runners here today have absolutely no hope of being in contention for a medal ... me included. Why do most of us put ourselves through all the rigours of training and racing merely to finish half way down the field? I mentioned something to E that I think answers the question pretty well. It came to me that we were like extras in a major feature film. There were just a few people with star billing, who actually featured in the main storyline, but the film would be nothing without all us extras, with our relatively inconsequential but nonetheless important walk-on parts. It wouldn't be a feature without us, for we provide all the colour and the atmosphere that makes the event what it is: a celebration of fitness and endeavour, rather than just about medals. That thought made be feel more at home.

We've seen so little sun this year that I found it near impossible to seek out any shade before the start. The sun was like a drug. I couldn't get enough of it ... possibly because this would be the last chance to feel real heat on the skin until well into next year. It was too good to miss. I had almost forgotten what a summer sky looks like. I honestly think that the last time I saw a sky like this was the morning of the White Rose Classic back in June - those wispy high cirrus clouds that suggest the sky is going to stay blue all day. We just haven't had those kinds of days this summer. Occasionally some blue sky in the morning but of the kind that gives way to bits of cloud soon after breakfast and then to overcast skies by mid-morning and rain at lunchtime. As I wasn't taking the race too seriously I thought it worth the risk of dehydration to indulge in a bit of sunlight therapy.

I had no plan for the race other than to test myself as hard as I dare while monitoring the calf for signs of stress. Actually, I wasn't thinking very clearly because I started too well up the field, harbouring this unconscious desire to stay within spitting distance of E - with a mind to attack him on the final steep approach to the summit. The first small climb felt fine and the pace comfortable enough but then we hit a flattish mile across some fields, with no respite from the heat of the midday sun. That section did for me. It soon became obvious that I'd started too fast for my current fitness level. I didn't appear to be moving very quickly but it just felt so hard. It was then all a matter of mind games as I settled to try and enjoy the run and occasion, getting overtaken by first DA and then AH, and unable to find the will to hang onto them. The trouble with 'settling' is that the adrenalin is no longer pumping, and without that natural pain-killer the running feels so much harder. I'm sure the effort felt greater than if I'd been firing on all cyclinders and running a minute a mile quicker.

The course didn't really suit me, with not many good hard running gradients. It seems to use fire roads in the forest which were quite gentle or ski slopes which were too steep - with not much in between. I much prefer a steady gradient which you can dig into and get a rhythm going. It was with some relief, then, that I finally crossed the finish line, without too much care about time or position. M was there to greet me, but I was suffering from the heat and had to sit down for a few minutes before moving on. There wasn't much space up at the top but I didn't really care - not even when another competitor bent over to shake my hand and released over me a good half pint of sweat from out of his cap! I guess it really was very hot. Someone had mentioned 34 deg at the summit!

We soon met up with the guys from the V60 race and it looked like they may have won the team gold. After some refreshment we took a walk back down to the village directly below and the shuttle bus back to the start where the party and music was already going well. Two pints of beer disappeared very quickly indeed. I still had no appetite for any food and it went to my head very effectively. The rest of the evening passed by in something of a haze. The prize-giving was wonderful, even though it did go on for hours. Our lads duly picked up their gold medals and I stood for the national anthem for the first time in years. I normally object on principle, because it is such a terrible dirge, but I guess this was a very special occasion. We went back to our hotel to eat (with M cramming 8 people into the rented Polo!) so missed some of the more entertaining acts that were laid on for us. It was good to finally eat.

I found out that I finished 52nd out of 104 runners in my category. I was in the top half of the field, which was my realistic aim for the day. By strange coincidence, when I ran the race 5 years ago (as a V45) I finshed 38th out of 76 runners. So, my target for next year in Zagreb is clear. There is definite room for improvement. M is highly motivated too. I think she could be close to medal contention if she can run to her potential.

To Dolni Morava

A Big Day

It's been quite a while since I've had the inclination to compile anything more than superficial thoughts on this blog. It's all got a bit boring really, but I've wanted to keep writing an entry each day anyway, just to complete the record. This is a wonderful, crazy and ridiculously hectic time of my life, and it will be fun to look back on this written narrative. Days disappear into weeks and then into months. It's good to get some vague feel for where all that time goes. I know everyone seems to experience this acceleration of the passage of time with each passing year, but I feel it's getting up to a ridiculously dizzying speed in my case. Making some notes at least serves to place little markers down. When I've been under too much pressure to write an entry for a few nights I've been amazed at how difficult it's been to remember where those days went.

That is a preamble before declaring that today is actually a very special day, although, oddly, it hasn't really felt particularly special - probably because I'm just too damn tired to appreciate the significance. I caught the train to London this morning (I'm writing this on the last leg of the journey back in the early evening) to sign a contract with the Health Protection Agency to deploy my software across the country over the next 18 months. It's been a long and rather painful negotiation, much of which, fortunately, I've been able to leave in the hands of my business partner. But the deal is done now and with a contract finally in place we can start to recruit some good people to share the workload. That will actually make life a bit harder before it starts to get easier, but it's a process that we have to go through. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel ... and for once it's not an oncoming train! At least I hope not!!

Despite all the pressures and the inevitable long hours ahead, I'm looking forward to developing the application further and working with the users (public health consultants and nurses mainly) to create a tool that they will enjoy using and which will help them in their job. That's a real motivation for me. This contract should bring some financial security, which will be very welcome (after 30 years without having any at all), but if I look deep inside myself, I cannot see the remunerative aspect as being much of a driver. I relish most this opportunity that I've been given to do something of just a little significance in the world, and do it really, really well. That's a privilege and it's what truly drives me when I'm struggling against tiredness during the late nights. So, if you are unfortunate enough to contract a nasty infectious disease, it is more than likely that your case will be recorded and managed using my software. God help you!!

I've still got loads to do tonight in preparation for training the Dutch people next week and configuring the software for their needs. Then tomorrow I'm flying out to Prague with M and a few other local runners for the World Masters. I've got to the point where I really don't care too much about performance on the day. I'm just looking forward to a great mini-adventure with lots of food and drink and lively banter. And, best of all, no computer. I fully intend to be off-line until Tuesday.

Summer Over?

It's now past midnight and I've not left the house all day. I've barely left my office bedroom all day. The only relaxation was cooking a Thai Curry and watching Desperate Housewives! I've felt very stressed, hemmed in by the pressure of so much to do, with very few available days left (before some key deadlines) in which to grab time at the computer. My calf still doesn't feel quite right, although I'm beginning to wonder how much of that is just stress and paranoia. I probably would have rested even if the weather had been good enough to tease me out ... but the rain continues, and it's turned distinctly cool and windy - so no pining for the great outdoors.

It feels like summer (what summer?) is over on so many fronts. The temperature. The last one-dayer v South Africa was washed out so the international cricket season is over. The boys started back at school. No.1 son is now in the 6th form (how is that possible I ask myself?) and No.2 son is starting his two year run in towards GCSEs. They both had a good day, especially the youngest, who seems remarkably enthused by his new teachers and mostly the fact that he seems to be in sets with all his best mates. He seems very keen to work and get some good grades. The eldest also seems keen to work hard and he's a little daunted by the reality of that, but also looking forward to the reward that hard work brings. He's mature enough to understand that equation now. I really hope all this enthusiasm lasts.

At the Grindstone

Another long day, punctuated by a trip to the office in Bradford, writing code, fixing bugs, fielding support calls, configuring the application for training in Holland next week. There is just too much to do. Even under this kind of pressure I guess I'm still enjoying what I do, but I am so looking forward to getting away on Friday. It will be pure bliss to be able to turn the head off for a few days after the grind of the last few weeks.

Staying Positive

The calf was still feeling tight yesterday so I decided to be proactive and call my physio, managing to get in at short notice on a cancellation. The tightness was very evident but I was encouraged to find out that it doesn't seem to be too serious. The feeling is that I should be ok for the weekend. I'm staying positive.

Another long day at the computer meant that I had no energy for a ride tonight. I was actually rather glad to have no one else turn up from the Harriers for the Monday meet - leaving No.2 son and myself to take just a short local ride, only about 6 miles but taking in a few hills, and missing the showers. I couldn't feel any further niggle from the calf, but I was reluctant to push very hard. It was good at least to get some air before settling down to another late night at the computer. 

Another wash-out

It was wonderful to relax yesterday, but I needed to crack on with work today. There is no better way of testing software than using it for real. I found quite a few bugs and spent the best part of the day getting them fixed. Most were fiddly issues which I had left as not essential to sort out for the prototyping stage but now need to be resolved as we are getting closer to full deployment. One of my favourite sayings is that you get 80% of the way in 20% of the time. That last 20% takes five times as long. It's so true.

Took an hour out to watch No.1 son bowl a few overs. Of course, it started to drizzle as soon as he was given the ball, so it wasn't easy for him to grip and extract as much turn as he usually does. At the end of his ten over spell (tight and unlucky not to get a wicket) the rain started coming down more heavily and I retreated for home. And that was it for the afternoon. Another wash-out and another week passes without my lad having a chance to get to the crease. He's barely had a chance to score a single run since that elegant fifty he hit over a month back now. I feel so bad for him.

One run too far?

I somehow managed to sleep in this morning, not waking until after 10am. I never do this! I guess it's a sign that mind and body are running tired. My plan to get some chores out of the way went out of the window, although I did do the essentials of food shopping and laundry before getting out for a run. I thought I'd just get in one last good quality session before winding down towards the Masters. I went out past the Cow and Calf, climbing up just short of the Pancake Stone, then down to the beck and up to the cairn before returning back via White Wells, about 4.5 miles at a good pace, feeling strong and remembering why it is that running will always remain my first love. When you are feeling good and fit there is nothing quite like the exhilarating rhythm of running trails at a pace.

Hatched a plan with M to get out somewhere a little different for a cycle this afternoon. After a quick look at the map I suggested driving to Thirsk and doing a circuit on the west side of the North York Moors. We found a delightful pub in the village of Felixkirk and from there headed to Boltby and Hawnby, from where we were lured onto the moorland road north and west to Osmotherley. The hills were steep and unrelenting, and the countryside incredibly beautiful: secret valleys, woodland, heather-clad hills, ancient byways, immaculately kept villages. It had everything. Having lived in Cheltenham once, I was minded to describe it to M as the Cotswolds of the north. There was the same kind of quintessentially English feel.

From Osmotherley we took a route back that hugged the side of the escarpment. It looked flattish on the map but continued to undulate and offer more incredible countryside and perfect back lanes. The one blot was having to use the A19 trunk road for about half a mile, but even this had the reward of offering us the sight of some major time-trial that was going on. I would guess that it was a big 100 miler from the amazing number of riders spread out, going both ways up and down the dual carriageway. I matched the speed of one rider who came past, just for a short while, but long enough to decide that this branch of the sport holds very little appeal. It's simply gruelling. Head down for hours on end, in a constant stream of heavy traffic. It was great to watch for a while, and the speed of some of the riders simply awesome, but I was very happy to return to the country lanes and head back to Felixkirk via Cowesby and Kirby Knowle. Our route was only 27 miles in total but it felt like a lot further than that in terms of all the hills. It was wonderful to discover such a beautiful little spot so close to home. It took my mind off the fact that I had started to feel a bit of a twinge in the calf during the ride. I'm not sure what to make of it right now, but it isn't quite right and it's in exactly the same spot as where I pulled the muscle a couple of months back. It's tightened up tonight and I'm trying to ignore it at the moment. I'm really hoping that my run this morning wasn't one run too far!

Kettlewell

Found myself struggling to focus this morning, the brain rather fried from five very long and intense days. I was going through the motions really, just tidying up bits and pieces and not making any real progress. Both the lads have things on this weekend so today was really the last opportunity of the holiday to get out with them both, so I suggested a ride and they were up for that.

I decided to first go for a run at lunchtime. With a couple of days off from the running behind me, I was due a quality session. Only the chance of a couple more good efforts now before the World Masters. I decided to run up the Keighley Gate Road to the masts, a route I've not done all year. It's climbing from straight out the door for 2.5 miles. I'm thinking that it won't be too far off the kind of gradient that we'll be experiencing in just 8 days now. So, I set off at a good pace, legs feeling quite strong, and tried to work hard all the way. On the last stretch I could see that a sub-20 minute time was on so I found the energy to raise the pace and got to the top in 19.52. It's hard to remember back to when I was doing this little time-trial on a regular basis, but I think that's a reasonable time. No matter. It's given me a great deal of confidence for the run next week. With so little specific training, I know I'm not going to be as competitive as I would like, but I don't think I'm going to disgrace myself!

Got sucked into watching England pile on the runs against South Africa in the one-day series. Pietersen certainly seems to have the midas touch ... and long may it continue. Waiting to see the end of the England innings, we didn't set off until almost 3pm but I still held a vague notion that we could possibly go to Hawes to allow the boys to 'enjoy' the experience of Fleet Moss. That wasn't to be, though, for No.2 son struggled on the back road through Appletreewick, Hebden, Grassington and Conistone. It seemed to me to be more psychological than physical, but he didn't seem to have the legs. We stopped at the cafe in Kettlewell for a good feed stop and it occurred to me then that perhaps it was just that he hadn't eaten enough through the day. That seemed to be confirmed on the way back. What a difference! He set a good pace all the way home. Indeed we were a whole 20 minutes quicker coming back on the B road, on a route which is only marginally shorter. We had our customary sprint at the golf course, which was just won by junior following my lead-out. No.1 son got caught by the break and gave himself too much to do, but very nearly got us on the line. I was genuinely impressed with them both after 43 miles of fairly hilly bike riding. Winning the sprint put No.2 son in a thoroughly much better mood, and No.1 son was on a great high from just being able to get out and do this ride at all, and enjoy it into the bargain - a prospect that he would have laughed at if suggested just a month or so ago. I've been looking forward to this kind of scenario for years ... and never truly believed it was going to happen. I felt very lucky today to be able to share this kind of experience with my two fit sons. We've even begun to plan a training camp together for the beginning of next year.

The Devil's in the Detail

Despite a very late night and a correspondingly early morning, populating my new data structures for the demonstration today, I have felt surprisingly switched-on. When I have to be on the ball I always seem able to get it together, no matter how tired I feel or little sleep I've had. I was sorting out a new bit of code right up to the moment our visitors arrived, finally getting it working at the very last minute. It seems like such a familiar scenario. It's stressful, but I do love the buzz!

Today was always going to be a rest day so I was reasonably thankful that the drab weather was continuing. We worked right through to the end of the afternoon, trying to understand the details of how the Dutch handle the various aspects of communicable disease control. Although we had received all the information on paper, it's amazing just how much more vital information emerges when you start discussing things around the table. The devil is always in the detail. And I think I can be a little big-headed here and suggest that my success at what I do is down to attention to detail. It's a matter of not settling for something that will simply work, but always trying to do the very best job that you can. If I can see a better way of implementing a certain function, then I cannot rest until I've improved the design, regardless of how many hours of previous work that I have to discard in the process.

Finished the day in Leeds by taking our visitors out for a drink and a meal, and I had such a good time that I stayed later than intended and came back on the very last train. I only spent a few minutes catching up with the guys (not having seen them all day) before I had no choice but to collapse into bed.

Brunthwaite Hill

Another tough day at the computer, now implementing the latest version of this new design. I'm happy that it's going to do the job, and I can show the work to our Dutch visitors tomorrow. They are going to be trialling the software next month in the Netherlands and I had to get this right before meeting them and finalising aspects of the design with them.

I celebrated by hooking up with M to watch No.1 son play cricket for a while, a friendly game where he actually opened the bowling with his off-spin. He delivered a few jaffas and got a wicket with a bad one, to a great catch, but it started to drizzle soon after the start of the innings so it wasn't easy to grip the ball. He really hasn't bowled regularly enough this season to have found any kind of rhythm.

It was decidedly chilly watching the game so just as he finished his spell we set off on the bikes to get warm, cycling into the wind and the rain. Typical summer's day really! M has had another setback with her calf and is now resigned to missing out on the World Masters. She needs some good bike rides to keep her spirits up. We went out via Nesfield to Bolton Bridge, left to Addingham and up the climb of Turner's Lane, then right and left to Swartha to the bottom of the infamous Brunthwaite Hill, exactly a mile in length and an ascent of 600 feet. This was M's introduction to one of my very favourite hills and she climbed well. I found it impossible to resist putting in an effort and was pleasantly surprised to feel very strong. I seemed to arrive at the top very quickly, although I didn't have to go far back down to meet M powering up herself. We then enjoyed a rapid descent back through Addingham Moorside and back to Ilkley with the wind on our backs.

Leeds v Crystal Palace

Spent the whole day, once again, on the system design for this revamped architecture for recording cases of infectious disease. Testing with examples has revealed more complexity and the need to incorporate more flexibility. There is always a balance to be struck between rigour of design and ease of use. Making something logically complete can render it impossible to use. On the other hand, use too simple a design and you lose data integrity. I'm still trying to find the right balance.

Took No.2 son to Elland Road tonight to watch Leeds play Crystal Palace (my childhood team) in what I still call the League Cup, but not before getting out for a run in order to clear my head. Took off at a good pace to Silver Wells, turning just before the Swastika Stone and returning via White Wells, a bit over 4 miles. The legs still felt a little sore from Saturday but I felt strong enough nonetheless. Only left 15 mins between getting back and heading out on the train, enabling me to wind my lad up somewhat with a distinct lack of urgency. He hates that!

I have to admit that I wasn't really up for this tonight. I find it hard to embrace football while the cricket season is still going on, even when the weather is more suitable - which it has for the best part of the whole summer! I was still in systems design mode and spent much of the first half with pen and paper in hand, and only half an eye on the football. However, by the end of the second half I was becoming more and more tuned into the game because Leeds were playing some really good football. And I discovered where my allegiance truly lies these days ... much to the delight of No.2 son. In the end, Leeds ran away rampant 4-0 winners and the margin could easily have been greater. It was an impressive display. If they get a home draw looks like I'll be dragged back to watch the next round. I might actually look forward to that.

Classification of Infectious Disease

Pressure of work has meant that my blog has gone dead for almost two weeks now. If anyone is still visiting, this is just to say that I still hope to keep going. I've been making notes and I will soon take some time to catch up. I've missed my late night e-scribbling, but there has just been too much to do. I've spent the bank holiday almost entirely at the computer, finishing off my new interface for the recording of new cases of infectious disease. It's the hardest design task I think I've ever undertaken. The complexity of the relationships between organisms which can cause many different diseases and diseases which can be caused by many different organisms is astounding. Factor in idiosyncratic naming conventions and historic anomalies and you have this huge mess that has been astonishingly hard to bring order to. But I think I've succeeded. I will find out properly tomorrow when I start populating with the data. I've been evolving this solution over some five years now. I'd love to think that I won't need to work on it much more. It does my head in!

Becoming more sensible!

Back in the thick of it today. Important meeting in the morning, then catching up with all the things that have been going on while I've been away. Some strange bugs have appeared and then disappeared again. There is one that I cannot reproduce at all. I was able to see it for myself this afternoon but not any more. It's never easy dealing with bugs around real-time data. Nothing ever stands still. It's been a very late night trying to get a handle on this, struggling to understand the conditions under which it might occur. It's proving elusive and eventually tiredness has overruled my stubbornness (a couple of hours too late probably), so I've admitted defeat. It's very rare that I'm beaten by a bug this way. I'm normally way too pig-headed to surrender like this, but that's not necessarily commendable. I think I'm becoming more sensible!

Adventure

The weather was as dire today as predicted so I was happy that we made the decision to come home from Wales a day early. My self-discipline might have been wanting in terms of the work I've needed to get done. I've had a secret day at the computer and I'm going to start a difficult week all the more relaxed for getting a lot done. Late in the evening now, I find myself reflecting on sportive routes and thinking that the Devil Ride got it just about right. One of the most appealing apects of this particular route was that it fitted almost perfectly on one single 1:50000 map (Sheet 147: Elan Valley and Builth Wells), turning at the very top and bottom of the map, and at the right edge too, only just going over the left edge for a few miles into Tregaron. It felt like a very natural line and that is important to me somehow. It was a genuine tour. I also think that in terms of enjoyment it is good to get the majority of the climbing in during the first half of the ride. I'd much rather be doing the big hills on fresh legs than on tired ones. Personally speaking, I do these events with the principal intention of enjoying myself. I want the experience to be fun, not an ordeal! Although a little bit of suffering is essential to that feeling of having given one's all, I don't necessarily want hills tacked on to a route for the sake of it. Gratuitous climbs in sportives could be looked upon in the same way as gratuitous violence in films. It's not strictly necessary. More is not always better.

Today the outline route for next year's Dave Lloyd Mega Challenge was released. I was excited to find that it's now going out all the way to Dolgellau and Dinas Mawddwy to tackle the Bwlch y Groes from the hard side. It's a thoroughly daunting prospect after 100 miles of riding, but also appropriate for what is billed as the toughest sportive of them all. I was not so delighted to discover, though, that the Bwlch pen Barrass climb was going to be at the end. It always felt a little contrived to be doing that loop at the beginning and my first thought was that this indeed was a little gratuitous. That was before I read more carefully and realised that this was no longer to be a loop, but the finish. Starting up The Shelf and cutting across to the Horseshoe Pass seems like a much more natural line to take at the beginning, and although it is going to be hell (with those final few climbs from the Devil Ride still fresh in mind, body and spirit), having a hilltop finish would be an amazing spectacle and experience. The thought of that last very steep climb will be haunting us throughout the ride. I can imagine lots of supporters out willing us all to keep pushing the pedals, to ride to the top and finish in style - when every signal the legs are giving out is simply to stop! I can feel the fear from almost a year away! I might now regret saying that I was half disappointed this year when I saw that sign after the Stingers saying five miles to go and all downhill. This is going to be one very serious sting in the tail. I wasn't intending to do the event again next year as I felt the route was just a little too contrived, but as of this moment I find it hard to imagine not putting myself on the line for the challenge. I suppose I have to admit that it's not always about having fun, but overcoming adversity and taking satisfaction from surviving a genuine adventure. It will certainly add an extra incentive to keep the training going through the winter. Should we be thanking Dave ... or cursing him?

The Elan Valley

The plan for today was to share with No.2 son the delights of the Elan Valley. Originally we were going to do a longish but leisurely ride together today, followed by a shorter ride tomorrow. Having seen the horrendous weather forecast for Tuesday, though, we decided to get out first thing in the morning and try to get the ride in before the forecast rain arrived, aiming to head back for home in the afternoon. We left the B&B at 9am, our rucksacks packed and ready to be picked up later. We took a fairly direct line to Rhyader, picking up the A road which follows the Wye Valley, before reversing the Devil Ride route from the previous day, climbing up the ridge and over into the Elan Valley. My lad was a little apprehensive about the climb following a big day out for him yesterday, but he actually had no problem at all. It was good in a way that the road could be seen a long way ahead for it made the sense of achievement that much the greater. He was very full of himself at the top and loved the descent and especially the hairpins down to the bridge at the head of the four reservoirs. The route down the valley was sensational and No.2 son loved the feeling of remoteness and the sheer beauty of this half natural, half man-made landscape. I loved most the fact that he was able to appreciate it so much, far more so I'm sure than if he had just been driven around in a car.

Just before the third dam we were hit by a fairly heavy shower which we could see approaching as a wall of water. Prompted by my son, we had our jackets on before it reached us. The timing was such, though, that I was no longer inclined to take the right turn for the out and back trip to the dam at the bottom of the Claerwen Reservoir, so we just headed back to Rhyader for lunch, although my lad wasn't phased at all by getting wet; indeed, he seemed to rather enjoy it. The rain had stopped by the time we reached the town but it started up again while we were eating. It always seems so much worse when you are inside looking out! We took our time, hoping that it would soon ease off again. Which indeed it did - as soon as we got out of town. We retraced the Devil Ride route here, except that we turned right instead of left to Abbeycwmhir. There was no way I was going to do that climb again! This was a fantastic little stretch of road, gently undulating and No.2 son seemed to get inspired here, setting a good pace, taking a route through all the puddles, spraying as much water around as possible, thoroughly enjoying being a kid. From there we continued to take a mostly minor road route back to the B&B, the rain holding off and allowing us to finish in the dry. My lad flagged a bit at the very end, but after 45 miles he was entitled to that, and it also told me that the length of ride was right. He was quite keen to get back home now. Even if the weather forecast had been good, two hard days out on the bike was probably enough for him. And for me too for that matter.

The Devil Ride

It was good for a change to be not setting the alarm for some ridiculously early hour before doing a Sportive. For once, I felt quite rested when I woke up just before 7am and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with No.2 son and six other people staying at the B&B and riding the event. The bad weather didn't look as if it had quite cleared through, as promised, so there was quite a bit of excitement when a bit of blue sky was spotted just as the toast arrived. It looked like it was going to be a day of showers, which was fine. I don't mind the rain if I know it's not going to last for long.

I said goodbye to No.2 son just before 8am and set off for a gentle 6 mile spin down to Builth Wells for the start of the event. I rather like being able to begin the day straight-away on the bike, and it was fun to see that most of the cars overtaking me on a Sunday morning were fellow Devil Riders. I was actually glad to be on the bike rather than in a car. They were possibly thinking the opposite! Builth Wells was a hive of activity and arriving at the Sports Centre I started to feel that familiar thrill of anticipation I always experience before an event. It was really only last night that I had taken the time to look at the route to see exactly where we were going. It was going to be hard but also very beautiful (if the weather relented to allow us to see the views), and I was really looking forward to exploring some new roads.

Registration was extremely efficient and after my usual bit of faffing around I was on my way at around 8.50am, by which time it seemed that there weren't too many other riders left. The skies remained grey but at least it was dry, and it certainly wasn't cold. I was just wearing a short-sleeved shirt, knowing that the climbing started straight out of the town and I would very soon be warm. It was amazing to see how much in the way of gear many of the other riders were wearing! I have a personal adage that says if you are not feeling just a little chilly before the start of an event then you are wearing too much gear! We headed out due south on the road to Brecon, which was considerably bumpier than I had gleaned from a quick look at the map. It allowed for some spectacular sights in terms of the views to the west, and of the road ahead filled with a seemingly endless stream of riders. My only concern was possibly going a bit too quickly as I continued to catch and pass people. Actually, I did have another slight concern, and that was No.2 son who would be coming this same way in an hour or two. Perhaps I didn't prepare him sufficiently for all these hills. I was tempted to call him but then though better of it. He would be fine.

Turning back on ourselves to Garth, on an even more spectacular piece of road, we got hit by a squally shower, but it wasn't heavy enough to warrant stopping to put a jacket on. It didn't even spoil the ride even, for visibility remained good and somehow the views were even more spectacular for the incredibly dramatic skies. Although there were some very threatening clouds around, it still looked like a day where the rain would be spasmodic rather than persistent. And that's how it proved to be. The rain soon eased and I enjoyed an exhilarating descent back into the Irfon Valley, amidst the most incredibly picturesque hills. There is something very special about the countryside here. It's very different from Upper Wharfedale and Swaledale in my own backyard, the Yorkshire Dales, but has that same kind of unique quality that somehow lies beyond words. It simply has to be soaked up and enjoyed rather than described.

A few miles of respite along an A road to Beulah and then we turned west to head into the hills again, through the most beautifully secluded valley, steep-sided and forested, undulating up and down, this way and that, over a shoulder to Abergeswyn and then opening out when joining the Irfan Valley once more. The road hugged the east side of the valley in spectacular fashion, offering a great view of the Devil's Staircase dead ahead. I felt inspired rather than intimidated. I had to engage the lowest gear almost immediately as the gradient hits you as soon as you cross the river, but although certainly steep, it wasn't desperately hard. It find it impossible to rank these big climbs because so much depends on where they come in the ride. The very steepest of ascents can seem quite reasonable when you are fresh. It's a different matter altogether when you have lots of miles and climbing already in the legs.

The first feedstop was well placed at the top of the climb and, although I really didn't feel that thirsty or hungry, I forced myself to eat and take on water. It then decided to start raining again, heavier than before, so as I was stopped I made the decision to put my windproof on. It was bad timing really because I wasn't able to enjoy the following descent for barely being able to see. The shower didn't last long, though, nor the downhill, because we were soon climbing again. The next section was truly wild and I kept the jacket on in expectation of a long descent to Tregaron, but there was still more climbing to be done before then. I usually feel on these mountain rides that the descents are far longer than I have any right to expect, but this was a counter-example of where the descents seemed shorter than I would have expected based on all the climbing we seemed to be doing. I remember thinking that this ride is tougher than my local Dales events, the Etape du Dales and the White Rose Classic.

Eventually, on the lovely stretch down into Tregaron the sun came out and cued a stop to remove my top. It was never needed again. Turning again and heading north-east we picked up a bit of a tail wind and I really enjoyed a second bit of respite from the relentless climbing. I actually found myself in the unusual position of leading a small group, which gradually increased in size as we overtook lone riders ahead on the road and they latched on. Nobody else seemed inclined to come to the front but I was enjoying the buzz of being there myself too much to mind. Just I was getting to the point where I thought I might be pushing too hard and fancied some help, another group came by and I latched onto them for a fast tow along the rest of this flat section to Pontrhydfendigaid. From there we started climbing and it all broke up again, everyone into their own rhythm, a few quicker than me, a few slower, crossing from one valley into another, this time into the heavily wooded bottom of the Ystwyth at Pontrhydygroes, a beautiful sweeping descent before climbing yet again over into the next valley at Devil's Bridge.

Here, after miles and miles of very little traffic and very few people, we were suddenly squirted out into something of a honey-trap. We were close to civilisation again, only a few miles from Aberystwyth and there were lots of tourists around, presumably being delivered there by the steam railway, the unmistakable sounds of which could be heard from somewhere. I wasn't sure exactly from where for I passed through Devil's Bridge very quickly indeed, concentrating on keeping out of trouble, and then before there was any chance at all to take in the place, I was out the other side and climbing again. The legs were feeling weary now and I was beginning to view the sight of each hill ahead with more and more apprehension. The scenery was still inspiring, and this next section of climb was stunning, with the most dramatically positioned wind-farm I have ever seen. But I was beginning to hurt.

I was grateful to reach the top of the climb at The Arch and enjoy a great descent back into and down the valley of the Ystwyth, knowing that the next feedstation wasn't going to be far away now. I felt the need for food, and, having enjoyed a fair bit of sunshine in the last hour, also needed to top the water bottles up. On the last climb I had vowed I'd take my time over this feed-stop, but once I'd downed a bit of cake and a few crackers I felt the urge to get going again. There is a certain rhythm to these long distance events which somehow demands continuity. The short break had definitely served to energise me, though, and I was able to enjoy the next climb more than the previous one. This next section on the mountain road to Rhyader was every bit as wild and beautiful as I expected it to be. From the top of the climb at the head of the Elan Valley the next four miles was exhilarting, enjoying a tailwind and moving rapidly over one of the most remote stretches of road outside of Scotland.

However, that sense of exhilaration was relatively short-lived as I hit the next climb out of the Elan Valley and over the ridge towards Rhyader. Even with the tailwind I found this very hard. The legs just ran out of steam. I was in survival mode. I think I'd eaten well enough, so I suspect it was just a matter of conditioning and not having done enough quality miles in the previous four weeks. Out of Rhyader there was a lovely flattish section for a few miles before things ramped up again on what would normally be considered a delightful minor road over to Abbeycwmhir, but what in these circumstances could only be thought of as a brute of a climb. If this was at the start of the event, I'd have been up and over without a thought, but coming towards the end, this was tough indeed. I was only barely moving quicker than another rider ahead who was walking. It was only mildly reassuring to know that I wasn't the only one to be suffering.

It's an odd thing that, despite being hardly able to push a pedal on the climbs at this stage, it doesn't seem that hard to maintain a reasonable pace on the flat. Following the descent someone came up from behind and took a tow for a short while, before accelerating past. He had upped the speed considerably, but once on his wheel I was able to stay there for a few miles without too much trouble, before he decided he'd had enough and waved me through to the front again. I couldn't maintain quite the same speed, but I tried and he remained happy to stay on my wheel for a mile or so before accelerating past again - too fast for me to latch on this time, although as it turned out the final feedstop was only a short distance away.

It was actually quite a surprise to hear that there was only 16 miles to go at this point. It felt like it should be more. I couldn't stomach any food other than a few Ritz crackers, but it was probably too late for proper food to provide any real benefit. Beyond a certain point the body seems to turn away from sugary foods towards savoury ones. I'd have killed for a spicy vegetable pasty at that point! The going from there continued to be relatively easy and we soon picked up a "20K to go" sign. A look at the watch revealed that a Gold standard time was there for the taking, something I had given up on when suffering before Rhyader. Trying to remember the map it seemed to me that there couldn't be any more hills so it felt like just a matter of keeping the steady pace going and rolling back into Builth Wells with a big smile on my face.

I should have known there would be a sting in the tail. From Newbridge-on-Wye the route climbed one last time, not much more than 300 feet, but my legs had now gone completely and I was a sorry sight twiddling away in my granny gear, thinking that it would almost certainly be quicker to get off and walk, but knowing that I couldn't possibly suffer that ignominy. I wasn't smiling at this point and I'm not sure I'd have actually been capable of a smile here. A couple of riders came past only going marginally less slowly than me, using some choice language out aloud that I was using privately in my head! Perhaps it helps to give voice to such cursing!!

We eventually hit the turn on to the minor road which would take us back down to Builth Wells, but even this was bumpy with one short steep section to endure. I had not suffered this much in an event all year. But I had also not enjoyed a route more. I know that I did eventually have a huge smile on my face at the finish, getting the gold standard for my age group (6.52) , coming home in 6.43.18, grateful for having been given such a fantastic day out, rewarded with equal amounts joy, suffering and awe at the beauty of the Welsh countryside. The organisation couldn't be faulted. The signage was excellent, leaving no room for any kind of doubt anywhere on the course. A quite superb event from every perspective.

I'd been in touch with No.2 son at times on the mobile and I was very proud of him indeed for having got out a bit earlier than expected, cycling into Builth and doing the first section of the Devil Ride as intended. He had told me that he was on my route and was waiting for me so he could pace me into the finish. That would have been fun, trying to keep up with him over the last few miles, but unfortunately he was waiting on the finishing section of the Little Devil instead of my route, so we missed each other. He did soon join me at the Sports Centre, however, and we found a couple of the people who were staying at our B&B to share in some banter and wax lyrical with about the whole day's experience. It was then just a matter of cycling the 6 miles back to Howey to crash out after what had been a very satisfying day for both of us. My lad had thoroughly enjoyed his Rite of Passage today, and seemed totally full of confidence. Life felt very good that evening as we tucked into a hearty meal at a nearby pub. Days don't get much better than this.

Rites of Passage

I managed to do most of the packing for our trip the previous night, but, with some business stuff to tidy up, there were still some loose ends to sort out in the morning and I was inevitably in a rush to get our 9.10 am train from Ilkley. Whether it's just a weekend away, a week's break, or longer, it's always such a relief to actually begin the journey and know that any more worrying about forgetting stuff is futile.

Travelling on a summer Saturday is not ideal. The train from Leeds to Birmingham was standing room only and No.2 son and I were forced to sit down on the floor next to our bikes. I'd planned to work on this leg of the trip but I guess I wasn't too sorry to have an opportunity to pick up with the novel I started on the trip to Ireland a few weeks back. The forecast rain for today arrived on time and once again I found myself in the situation of being thankful that an event wasn't being held on the day before! By the time we reached Llandrindod Wells the rain had stopped although the weather still looked threatening. We just had a short ride to our B&B, a mile down the road towards Builth, accomodation I felt very lucky to have found at such short notice, with 500 people entered for the Devil Ride, the majority of which would be staying overnight.

After settling in at the B&B the rain swept through again, not heavy, but enough to deter us from getting out for our planned late afternoon ride. No.2 son didn't seem to mind. I think he was quite happy to chill and plan with me his route for tomorrow. This was going to be something of a Rite of Passage for him. I'd done the same thing with my two much younger brothers at the same kind of age: throwing them in at the deep end, confident in their ability to look after themselves and knowing that they would feel a strong sense of achievement from being self-reliant. I gave him the map and suggested that he follow the first southern section of the Devil Ride, then finishing along the route of the Little Devil. If he watched the Women's Road Race from the Olympics first, then he'd probably not have long to wait before I finished my ride. He seemed happy with that plan and actually very excited about what was going to be quite an adventure for him. It is odd, though, that for my generation, and for the previous one almost more so, kids of fourteen were far more adventurous than they are now. For all their precocity in many areas of life, young people don't seem to have quite the same curiosity about the world as I remember having at that age.

We enjoyed a very good meal in the pub in the village just down from where we were staying at Holly Farm, Howey, and it was wonderful to be able to share this one-on-one with my youngest. His obvious enthusiasm for his ride tomorrow made me feel that I'd made the right decision about this trip. My only fear was him getting a puncture or suffering a mechanical of some kind. But kids of his age have always had to deal with this sort of thing. He'd cope somehow. It would be part of the experience. I told myself that he'd be fine! I'm sure my parents never worried like this. Or perhaps they did but they never let on. I shall have to ask my mum!

Choices and Consequences

I've had difficult choices to make around this coming weekend and, apart from not being sure I've made the right decision even, I know I've not gone about in the best way. It's caused a bit of grief all around and I'm left with a stodgy head from thinking about it too much. The upshot is, though, that I'm off tomorrow with No.2 son for a few days cycling in Wales, including the Devil Ride for me on the Sunday. I need to do some important documentation on the software so I'm having to take the laptop with me. My boy is taking his too, so we'll be mixing some time on the bikes with some time at the computer, me writing, him playing. He's really excited about going away and having me to himself. I feel rather ashamed that we've never done this before. But this is a good time. He seems really keen to get lots of miles and hills in - and also enthusiastic about planning a ride of his own while I'm doing the event. I have to admit that after missing the Ryedale Rumble and the Pendle Pedal these last two weekends I've been developing sportive withdrawal symptoms! I've chosen, to some extent, to put my needs first to do this event, and I've had to deal with the consequences of that today. It's not been easy and I'm still beating myself up over it. Once we get the maps out on the train tomorrow morning I'm hoping my head will clear and get filled with anticipation. I adore the hills of Central Wales and I think it's over 10 years since I was last there when I did the Autumn Polaris with my good friend MO (Note to myself that I really must find his number and catch up. It's been years). We enjoyed the scenery and the riding so much that we deliberately decided to extend the ride and so failed by a considerable margin to make the time limit- thereby losing all our points to penalties!

Reaching my limit with work, I finished up a couple of hours early and went out with both the boys to Burnsall and back this afternoon. No.1 son is really getting into the cycling now and he had no qualms about leaving the test match with new captain Pietersen on 84 not out in order to go out on the bike. It was a reasonably good-paced ride too. No.1 son is getting fit rather quickly! He seems definitely up for some longer rides now he knows that 25 miles is comfortable.

This was my last chance for a run for a few days so I took the opportunity to get out on the moor soon after returning from our bike ride. I ran up to the cairn via White Wells and enjoyed a circuitous return. Like Wednesday, I felt good, with a bit of zip in the legs, and I had to concentrate in order to stop myself from going quicker than I felt I should. It was great to be running at a healthy pace and still be having to rein myself in! I think I'd forgotten just how good it feels to run when your legs are fresh and free from niggles. The tightness felt on Wednesday evening has gone and I've felt nothing further tonight. I'm feeling more and more optimistic that I will be racing again soon.

Bug Blitz

I made good progress with the software late into last night and the early hours of this morning. I've felt very tired today, but I've been fuelled by being able to regularly tick things off my mental list. Lots of problems fixed with the software, while at the same time doing some essential housekeeping and applying a bit of polish. The application feels more and more robust, as well as looking good at the same time!

It was another overcast, but warm and close day, with no breeze to move the heavy air. It would have been a great day for a bike ride, but there was no time for that until the evening, when, as if on cue with my arrival back from the office, the storm clouds appeared and rain set in for the night. In a way, I didn't mind too much because I was on quite a roll with the software. I do really enjoy it when I'm programming and being productive. I've had quite a blitz on many little bugs today. It's been very satisfying, and my head is clearer for being able to see the way forward now I've hacked down a lot of the undergrowth! The next week or so doesn't appear so overwhelming now.

A Runner Again!

Still felt completely frazzled today. There are too many things to sort out, too many things demanding my attention. I seem to be spending most of my time working out the priorities rather than just cracking down and actually solving the problems. Things improved at lunchtime when I forced myself to get out for a run. And this was definitely running rather than the jogging I've been doing up until this last weekend. I did 6 laps around the Millennium Gardens, the route I used to take my gang of Wharfedale Juniors around a few years back. I did efforts going up on the track and recovery back down on the grass, and it felt wonderful to be able to extend myself a little. It was also wonderful to feel like there was more to come if I wanted. I'm still being very cautious so I held back a little and followed the circuits with a steady run up past White Wells, through Rocky Valley and back home via the Tarn, dripping with sweat because it was a very warm and muggy day. I was out for 45 minutes in total and it was the greatest joy to have that freedom to run again, and feel good. This was the first time in getting on for two months when I've felt like a runner. I'm not ready yet to give this feeling up. I've now got to make sure that I keep the progress steady and not get carried away. I've felt just a little bit of tightness since so that's a reminder that I'm not out of the woods completely.

Overwhelmed

After a very chilled weekend in the Lakes and a peaceful day of core programming yesterday, reality struck back hard again today with issues on our live systems and some difficult decisions to be made. Trying to plan the next couple of weeks, there just seems to be too many things that absolutely have to be done to fit in with all the things I want to do in that time. Something has to give and it's been very stressful trying to find the right compromises.

After a lovely start to the morning, the rest of the day has been grey, wet and very uninspiring - so it has been easy to take a rest day today. With bugs to fix I ended up working until late, meaning that there still hasn't been any time to catch up on my missing blog entries. I'm leaving placeholders and hope I can find the time soon.

Barden Bridge

Grizedale Forest

Coniston Water

Burnt Out

Suffocation

Today was one of those days where you just feel that the Gods have got it in for you, that they've decided to have a bit of fun at your expense. I haven't been seeing the funny side of it at all. It's been a miserable day. What should have been a simple task taking no more than an hour has taken me from 8am right through to 1am of the early hours, with just one short break - all down to software tools simply not working as they should, with no indication of why. There is nothing, simply nothing I find more infuriating than commercial software (from companies with billions of dollars at their disposal) telling you that there is an error. Just an error. Full stop. No detail. No help. Today, every method I tried to perform this one task threw up such undefined errors, a brick wall being moved around to block my every move. I got very wound up in my head, to the point where I could no longer think clearly. Eventually I found a way through and then another problem occurred, which actually was relatively easy to understand, but by this point my head was so muddled and mired in paranoia that I kept imagining much more complex issues than what was really involved. To mirror my dark mood, it rained almost all day, out of a uniformly grey sky. It was a muggy, airless day, and that's exactly how I have felt myself: muggy headed. But actually worse than that. I can best describe it by saying that my brain has felt increasingly suffocated all day. It's a horrible feeling.

Feeling the Pressure

The pressure is building towards going live in Scotland. I've been doing masses of work under the bonnet in respect to rewriting the code more elegantly and efficiently (with the wonderful benefit of hindsight), and these will be our first clients to use the application in its shiny new 'go faster' form. There is always a lot of last-minute debugging and configuration and I've been right in the middle of that today. As ever, too much to do and not enough time to do it in.

It was the last Under 17s league match of the season tonight, at Adel, and with so many of the lads on holiday No.2 son was persuaded out of his early retirement to play. I was late leaving the office, missed the train, and enjoyed a very fast ride out to Adel in exactly 40 minutes. Just what I needed. It was beautifully balmy, an evening made for watching cricket indeed. We won the game fairly comfortably (in the end) with No.1 son getting out cheaply but taking a couple of good wickets, and No.2 son taking a possibly match-winning catch on the boundary off a skier when Adel's No.3 was on 49 and threatening to take the game away from us single-handed. The game didn't finish until 9.30pm and I had forgotten that the nights are beginning to close in quite quickly now. I had an even more rapid return home, in time-trial mode (reminding myself why I don't do time trials!), in 36 mins. With my computer not working and having forgotten to charge up the Garmin, I'm intrigued to know what speed that was, but it was good for my head to have a real blast, before another late night working.

Scandalised

I'm writing this in the early hours of the morning at the end of another very warm and very long day. As ever, before going live with software, all kinds of issues have come out of the woodwork. It's been very intense but I've got loads achieved and I think we're looking good - although we have put the date back a day because of some anomalies found in the data given to us by the client. I still haven't found time to catch up with the blog entries from Ireland. I'm forcing myself to write this entry for today because if I get any further behind it may well be all over. There are so many things I need to do that the things I merely want to do are getting sadly neglected. However, I did get out for half an hour on the moor this evening, just after some heavy showers passed through. It was great to be out in the air, but I can't ever remember struggling so much to reach the cairn. The legs feel so very heavy. I can only think it is symptomatic of both playing and working very hard indeed this last couple of weeks. I hope so, because I really can't imagine doing much more running if it's going to feel like that! At least I was rewarded with some incredibly dramatic views up the Wharfe valley, the sun forcing its way through some dramatic storm clouds.

Before falling into bed there is one thing that I have to note here. I found today the most outrageous bug in any piece of commercial software I have ever used - in over 30 years. I came across it using this same application that I have already been moaning about on this blog, and which has given me one hell of a lot of grief this last couple of weeks since upgrading. It shall be named: Microsoft SQL Server Management Studio. The horribly clumsy and ill-conceived interface apart, this is a different league of problem altogether that revealed itself today. Put as simply as I can, I just wanted to delete a row from a table. The row is highlighted and a message warns me that the deletion can't be undone. The change is permanent. That's not a problem because the row I want to remove is unambiguously marked and I definitely want to delete it. I hit "Yes" to confirm that I wish to go ahead - to which the application promptly responds by deleting the row below the one that is highlighted, leaving the row I actually want to delete worryingly intact. I don't even know what row I have actually deleted, with no way of finding out either because it is irrecoverable. It kindly warned me about that! It's completely outrageous. Once I had deleted one row I knew I had to recover the data from backup so I tried again and the bug was completely reproducible. I had to show one of my lads just as proof that I wasn't somehow imagining it and going completely mad. I well understand that all software is buggy to some extent, but this is nothing short of scandalous. At least it makes me feel better about the relatively trivial bugs that I'm gradually eliminating from my own software.

Riding with the boys

Into the office again today, working on the Scottish system due to go live on Wednesday. The sun has been hidden most of the day, but it's been very warm still, too warm to be stuck inside. I have this feeling that summer is passing quickly by and I'm not making the most of it!

Following his heroics of yesterday, No.1 son has realised that he's actually fitter than he thought, but understands the importance of getting fitter still. He expressed an interest in doing some cycling so I bought him some enormous SPDs at the weekend so he could ride my winter bike - with the saddle raised a good 3 or 4 inches! It was Harriers cycling tonight, which I almost forgot about having missed the last 3 weeks for various reasons. I didn't expect to see anybody, but NT turned up to make it a foursome with my lads. We went to Askwith, up the hill, and back via Otley and Weston, about 14 miles round trip. No.2 son was still not himself and struggled a bit (more mentally than physically perhaps?), but No.1 son, although having to work very hard, really enjoyed the ride. He had so much fun that he was left wondering why he hadn't done this in some 2 years! I'm now harbouring hopes that this is something we can all share now on a regular basis. It felt really good to be able to enjoy this ride tonight with both my boys.

Glowing

Without doubt the best day of the summer so far. I wanted to get out with the Earlybirds first thing but I decided that I really couldn't squeeze that into the day along with everything else. Having been away for a week I needed to get some bug fixes sorted, so I decided to get up early to get stuck into that instead. That meant that I'd have more time to go out for a ride with No.2 son, before watching No.1 son play cricket in the afternoon.

After all the enthusiasm of last week I could tell that No.2 son wasn't really up for a ride today, but I ignored his protestations of tiredness. We'd been planning to go to Barden Bridge and do the big climb to Halton Heights, but just on the gentle spin out through Nesfield he was hanging back. I still find this difficult as a parent, trying to judge how hard to push the kids when they are not truly willing. It's a difficult balance. At Bolton Bridge I asked him what he wanted to do, and he decided that was to return home. I was disappointed, mainly because I knew he was now going to be down on himself and will not be feeling the same buzz tonight that he was enjoying last week. He wanted me to carry on though, not wanting to spoil my ride, and despite some misgivings I decided that would be best for both of us. Having missed out on a ride this morning I really wanted to enjoy the beautiful weather. You only get a handful of days like this all year ... if that. So, I headed to Barden Bridge, took the climb up from Skyreholme, across to Greenhow and back via Thuscross Reservoir and Blubberhouses. It was a stunningly beautiful day, with the Dales looking at its very best. I kept flipping between coasting along in the hot sunshine, enjoying the scenery, and putting in efforts, enjoying the toil. The legs have still not come back properly to life. The last hill onto the moors above Askwith was as hard as it usually is after a much longer ride. I was happy to get back after 30 miles and was actually quite thankful that I hadn't contrived to enter the Ryedale Rumble happening today not too far away. I think that would have been hell!

No.1 son had already informed me that he was opening the batting for the 3rd XI, which had been one of the reasons for putting some effort in, followed by another call where I was informed that they were fielding first, enabling me to ease off a bit. I grabbed a long drink before going down to the cricket club. My lad had been brought on unusually early so I only caught the last over of his first spell, which was apparently good but wicketless. When he came back on a bit later, much to my relief because the game was going a bit dead at that stage, things got quite lively. His fourth ball was a real ripper of an off-break, pitching on a perfect length, beating the defensive push and removing the bails. The next ball was spooned up in the air for a straightforward catch. The hat-trick ball hit the pads somehow but was a bit wide and was survived. Then, with the very first ball of his next over he delivers another ripping off-break which is a carbon-copy of his first wicket. That made three in four balls and the new batsmen was very lucky to survive the rest of the over. I'd been waiting to see my boy perform like this all year. Last season I was treated to a couple of such displays, but this season he just hasn't been given many opportunities, and that's when he's been playing at all, with the weather having been so bad. The innings was wrapped up pretty quickly thereafter and I wallowed in fatherly pride during the tea interval.

Just as I've not seen No.1 son take too many wickets this season, I've not seen him score too many runs either. I never get more nervous than when he's batting during a period when the runs aren't coming for whatever reason. He wants it so bad. And I want it so bad for him. I also know how hard it is. Cricket is a ruthless game. Just one moment of indecision and it's all over. Because he'd got a few wickets and would now take something away from the game regardless, I felt a little less concerned than normal, and he was more relaxed too - which meant that he started with a lot of fluency, the very first ball flicked off his legs for a perfectly timed boundary. I soon lost my nerves watching him because he looked so comfortable at the crease. I still find it amazing to watch my 16 year old do things I was never able to even aspire to do myself. The team were only chasing 137 so he had plenty of time. He was very patient and assured in defence, waiting for the bad balls to come along, which he dispatched with increasing confidence. It was such a pleasure to watch. I can't even begin to imagine the joy of being able to time the ball as sweetly as he did this afternoon. For a player of his natural ability it is odd that he'd never got a fifty before. I guess I was a little nervous when he got to 46 today, but he was gifted a full toss and it was despatched with disdain for a boundary and I was able to witness that first milestone in his career. I can hopefully look forward to seeing a lot more. By now, in the searing heat, he was clearly exhausted but he held his concentration well and carried his bat for 62 not out. The team only lost two wickets, but the other batsmen all said how hard it was out there and were amazed that my lad had kept going so well. Perhaps he is fitter than we both think! All I know is that I took more pleasure from that experience today than I have in any of my own achievements this year. I feel like I'm still glowing, with equal amounts attributable to the sun and to fatherly pride!

Guilty Summer Pleasures

It was Twenty20 finals day today. For the last few years I've happened to be away on some event for this weekend so this is the first chance I've had to witness the finals since its status has transformed from a bit of fun to possibly the most prestigious tournament of the year. I can well imagine that the players and administrators at the counties feel that way, even if they wouldn't admit to it publicly! It was also the deciding stage in the Tour de France. Would Cadel Evans, as expected, overhaul the lead of Carlos Sastre in the time-trial? It was a day of guilty summer pleasures, then, and a nod back to my childhood: a glorious summer's day to be spent mostly inside watching sport on the television.

Forty years ago it was the Test Match in black and white, with just one camera, the sound turned down with the radio commentary on. Now it is with Sky and countless camera angles and technology to support the action. Some of the players are even fitted with mikes. I'm not nostalgic for the old days. I've completely embraced the new and I absolutely love it. Cricket is just about the only thing that will keep me inside or in my seat on a beautiful day - although I did go cycle a fairly quick 25 miles to Burnsall and back before it started so that I wouldn't be pining for the great outdoors too much. It seemed a bit of a shame to be turning back for home at Burnsall, with the whole of the Dales beckoning, but I wasn't feeling very zippy. It could be the best cycling weekend (in terms of weather) of the whole year and I've gone and stuffed my legs!

So, I embraced a relaxing day and thoroughly enjoyed the cricket, culminating in a classic final where Middlesex beat Kent on the very last ball of the tournament. It was cricket at its very best, lots for the purists to enjoy as well as loads of twists and turns in the plot to keep everybody entertained. I feel very grateful to have fallen in love with this sport at an early age and been captivated by it all my life. And I'm very happy that No.1 son feels the same - and, in his case, fortunately, with the talent to actually play the game at a reasonable level. He finally got a chance to bowl for the 2nd XI today and picked up three good wickets. He was so happy to be able to come through the door and tell me about it. He had said not to bother come watch because he didn't expect to get a bat or a bowl.

The time-trial was great viewing. I've been a fan of Evans for some years now but after the Alpe d'Huez stage I switched my allegiance to Sastre. He has a far stronger team behind him, but the tactics, the desire and the application he showed on that climb were amazing. With the time-trial coming he had no idea how much time he would need to gain, but he laid it on the line and took as much as he could get. He gave himself a shot, albeit quite a long one, and it paid off today. From the first time check, at which point he had only surrendered a handful of seconds, it was clear that this was to be his day. Quite simply, deep down where it hurts, he wanted it more than anybody else. Fantastic to have witnessed.

Back on-line

I've been away from the internet for exactly a week. This is quite possibly the longest gap I've had without being connected to the world in around five years. I'm taking it as a good sign that I really haven't missed it at all. It's been wonderful not to have been troubled by the need to respond to e-mail ... or post my blog entry for the day! I've been able to turn my head off almost completely, but today it has been necessary to engage it again and that's been a bit of a shock to the system. Fortunately, not too much has come up in my absence, but one rather weird bug did need fixing urgently today and that took all afternoon to track down. It's going to be a busy few days now because we have another system going live next week and there is a fair bit to do in preparation. I also have to update this blog with a week of missing entries. I feel a certain obligation to keep this record complete now.

Went out on the bike with No.2 son again this evening, about 12 miles up Curly Hill, across to Langbar and back via Nesfield. The sky had clouded over since the sunshine of the day - which I had missed from being stuck in the office - but it was a wonderfully balmy evening. The route was my lad's idea. I've been feeling so tired today that I would happily have suggested a ride out to Bolton Abbey and back. He's really keen to get himself fit at the moment. I'm hoping we can build some momentum during the school holidays with the hope that we can keep it going through the autumn and into winter this year.

The Great Orme

The alarm was set for 3.45 am this morning to ensure that we weren't rushing to get to the ferry terminal at Dublin for 8.15. As it happened the drive at that time of day took less than 3 hours so there was loads of time to spare - a rare event for M and myself! We're both getting better at this - and enjoying being less stressed by that ticking clock!

We passed through quite a bit of rain in the central plain of Ireland and the crossing was rather grey, but once in Wales the sun was out and when we stopped briefly outside Holyhead we enjoyed that extraordinary experience of being physically assaulted by the temperature, something you only normally feel when leaving the air-conditioned terminal buildings of continental airports after having flown from the UK. It's a sign of how miserable our summer has been that a genuine summer's day was such a shock to behold. It really was as if we had forgotten what it felt like.

We stopped off at Llandudno on the way back to pick up M's mother, which gave us an excuse to have a run on the beautiful limestone peninsular of the Great Orme. M thoroughly enjoyed showing me one of her regular routes on what is a very special place for her. We were out for about an hour at a gentle pace, soaking up the sun and the incredible views, covering about 6 miles I guess. I was aware that the left calf is not feeling right, although not in a significant enough way for me to rule out simple paranoia! During our run I realised that it was 30 years since I'd last been here on the Orme, when I organised a New Year's caving tour of this part of North Wales, staying at Youth Hostels and travelling around by bike - heavily laden with all our pot-holing gear. My only clear memory of that entire holiday was of having to abandon the proposed route one day because the snow was too thick on the road, and waiting for a train with totally frozen hands. The crazy things you do when you are young!

Made it back home just before 6pm to be greeted by No.2 son in ebullient mood. He'd been getting out on his bike, very much inspired by the Tour de France, and was really full of himself. He couldn't stop talking! It was such a lovely warm evening that I suggested we go for a ride, and he was up for that. We just went out to the top of Askwith Hill and back, but at a good pace. I could see that his bike fitness was returning fast ... and his enthusiasm. He was on a real high for the rest of the evening. I know that feeling well.

Mallaranny and Achill Island

Westport

Rest Day

Western Lakes Polka Dot Challenge

Following the the Joyce Country Challenge and what must have been a good 20 miles of running, jogging and walking yesterday, the legs felt a little achey on waking up this morning. It was really good not to have to rush. The event start was only 3 miles from the cottage that Esroh had found for us, which meant that we had until 9.30 am to get ready for a gentle spin out to Ballinrobe for the start at the very civilised time of 10 o'clock. The expected numbers had been depleted by a clash with a road race scheduled at short notice for the same day so only around 40 or 50 riders were signed on. It was to be a mass start, with a motorcycle escort. I first thought that the escort was just to get us safely through the town, but he was actually to accompany us for the whole ride. The roll out was at an easy pace and we pretty much stayed together for the first very flat 10 miles. This was the longest stretch I had ridden without a hill all year! I was thinking that I could get used to this kind of cycling, chatting away to people without stress or strain. It was all remarkably sociable and non-competitive.

The pack only started to break up on the first climb. The lack of a competitive feel to the event made me a little uneasy about pushing too hard on the climb, so I kept well within myself in a small group just behind the leading riders. I really had no idea if there was an observed etiquette or not. The climb of Lally's Hill to about 300m was wild but actually rather gentle compared to the hills I am used to in the Yorkshire Dales. We seemed to be over the top very quickly and were rewarded with spectacular views over Lough Mask, to which we descended at the village of Toormakeady. I felt something distinctly odd about the bike handling on the way down, and it finally dawned on me that I had a soft back tyre. I should really have stopped to check it out but it's so hard to break your rhythm and momentum when descending. On reaching Toormakeady I did finally stop to be able to confirm that I did indeed have a slow puncture. I didn't want to lose the little group I was with so I quickly pumped it back up and carried on. I was hoping that it would be slow enough to avoid having to stop to fix it completely. Past experience suggested that could take me a long time!

The road from there climbed back up again, offering more wonderful views over Lough Mask, before reaching the main feed station. This caught me a little by surprise, firstly because the time had gone so quickly, but also because it felt so relaxed. Instead of riders dibbing, quickly collecting food and water, and whizzing straight out, everyone was sat down, drinking tea and soup, and generally taking their time over eating their sandwiches and cake. It was a proper lunch stop. It was great because I was able to have a couple of mugs of tea and some food before changing the tube in the back wheel. I was assured that people wouldn't leave without me! Because I felt no pressure of time and wasn't in a panic, it was all done very quickly. Or perhaps it's just that I'm finally getting the knack!

As the riders I was with earlier started to drift out, I decided to join them and found myself in a group of four. We were soon over the little climb and past the point from which we left the road yesterday to begin those many miles of trackless wandering. It didn't seem possible it was only yesterday that we were running along here. But another day, another event, and a whole different tempo. We were into the wind beside the beautifully wild and wonderfully named Lough Nafooey and we silently shared the work at the front. I had the rare experience of having those on my wheel struggling to keep up and when we came to the short climb (see picture) which led up to the where the feedstation from yesterday's event was situated, I began to pull away.

The climb from the head of Lough Nafooey

A great descent followed and then a right turn to take us down towards Lough Corrib. Here we picked up a bit of a tailwind and having overtaken a few riders on the descent I was starting to feel a little competitive. The road ahead was now a more major affair with some straightish sections where I could see other riders ahead. I upped the pace and started to pick people off. A few latched on to my wheel and I rather enjoyed being the lead man. Suddenly, though, I found myself on my own and it was only later that I found out that people had decided to stop for a pint at a bar! It was hard not to think that perhaps they have the right idea about events over here!!

Meanwhile, quite oblivious to this very relaxed approach going on behind me, I was on a bit of a roll, enjoying the tailwind and the fantastic scenery, but mostly taking pleasure in my fitness and feeling strong despite the rigours of the day before. The route was well marked and it wasn't too long before I got my bearings and was in familiar territory, following the road to Clonbur and then Ballinrobe. I chased down a couple more riders, but they were getting thin on the ground now. I arrived back at the cycling centre just under 5 hours after starting, just catching another rider as we entered the town. I was amazed to find that only one other person had already returned. The informality and lack of fuss was very refreshing. I had a quick bite to eat and then reversed the course to see how M was doing, taking pleasure in cheering through quite a few of the riders I'd been chatting with earlier, including Esroh. At Clonbur I decided to stop for a break and shortly after saw the broom wagon pass through. I was told that M was with two other ladies and would be with me soon. It turned out that M had enjoyed a very long and civilised lunch stop indeed with her two new friends, and I escorted them all back to the finish, now beginning to properly feel the accumulated tiredness from a long weekend. By the time I'd got back to the cottage I'd completed 100 miles for the day.

As it turned out, M and I were the only two people to complete Esroh's double challenge. I'm trusting that these two visitors from faraway shores will now be written into local legend - and function as a spur to get more local people to take this on. They should, for it really did make for the most wonderful weekend. Esroh's sportive route was stunning, although, I have to admit, not as hard as I was expecting. The hills are beautiful here but nothing like as demanding as the ones we have back home. Which isn't a problem at all. Not every event has to be a killer! For something a little different, to be integrated into a holiday, I can thoroughly recommend this event and would love to see others travelling to have a go next year. I'm pretty sure I can guarantee the same fabulous hospitality that we received.

The Joyce Country Challenge

Ireland

Pre-holiday Panic

Going Live

I carried out the update of the software late last night and did some testing in the early hours of this morning. Going live with software always gives me anxiety. No matter how much testing you do, users always seem to find new and unexpected ways of doing things. As it turned out there were no major issues today and that was an enormous relief. I fixed a few minor bugs which were spotted as a result of analysing the live data, but they didn't impact upon the use of the system. I honestly didn't expect it to go this smoothly!

Countdown Day

The final countdown day before going live with a shiny new version of my software in Bradford. This is always a stressful time. The nearer you get to the crunch, the more the mind becomes focussed, the more issues you discover to check out, and therefore the more problems you find. But the dress rehearsal eventually went okay and everything was in place for the changeover following the last clinic tonight. That was done smoothly and all seemed to test fine. I guess I will only find out for sure tomorrow.

Met up with our Libyan friends again today. Following a visit we made to Tripoli at the beginning of last year, they are very keen to deploy the software over there, the little issue of producing an Arabic interface aside! They are such truly wonderful people. They arranged a trip to the desert for us last time and I acquired a bit of a reputation by going for a long run across the dunes and then back to the hotel. Now they want to take me even further into the desert! Their hospitality is fantastic.

Got back from the office feeling very weary but it was a pleasantly warm evening so I tried to persuade No.2 son to come out for a short ride on the bike. Neither of us really wanted to get out, but I finally convinced him that it would good for both of us to get some air. He's caught in that bind of not being very fit at the moment and knows that he's going to struggle for a while before the fitness kicks back in. But, actually, I was surprised by his speed and strength - in short bursts anyway. We just went out through Askwith to Weston and back, about 10 miles, and he had me working very hard in places! And we did both feel so much better for it. I made him remember that feeling afterwards so that I can remind him about it!

Come back legs!

The legs felt very tired after yesterday's ride so it wasn't inconvenient that the day was full of work commitments. I did manage to get out for a gentle run with M, a loop of about 5 miles out through Cottingley Woods and back via a variety of ancient field paths and tracks around Wilsden. It's always refreshing to explore somewhere a little new, and the calf felt fine, but the running legs are still missing! I really hope they come back soon.

Park Rash

Last week, having missed out on the Three Counties and not ridden with the Earlybirds for a while, I suggested to El Cid a route for today, one of my very favourite longer rides, but one that I'd not done all year: going up Park Rash from Kettlewell and then a circuit around to Pateley Bridge. With El Cid having been hauled away to attend a wedding this weekend, I wasn't sure if there would be any takers, so it was good to arrive a few minutes after 7am to see both Stefano and MS at the meeting point, for I knew then that I'd have a good ride! A group of five headed up the valley on a lovely morning (again the Weather Gods are shining on me). We lost one at Barden and another at Kettlewell, before the three of us climbed Park Rash, which many consider to be the hardest climb in the Dales. It was impossible to dispute that today, for I had to dig deep to stay in touch with the other two. It's unrelenting for a long while. I suspect I found it difficult because I think I push myself a lot harder on these training rides than I do in the longer events (where I'm more concerned with conserving energy), and also because I'm riding with other, stronger people and I'm wanting to keep the pace up. But it might also have been because I was a little out of sorts with myself. I actually had very little energy riding out to Burnsall and if I'd been on my own I think I would likely have turned back there.

Somehow the climb of Park Rash woke me up a bit, and I really enjoyed the exhilarating descent down Coverdale. I love this part of the route. Virtually traffic-free lanes and a real sense of remoteness. We crossed to the other side of the valley at West Scrafton, through Coverham to East Witton and then started climbing again, up the hill to Ellingstring and over to Leighton Reservoir and then up again and over into Nidderdale at Lofthouse. The pace had been good and my legs were starting to get quite weary. From Lofthouse Stefano picked up the tempo along the valley to Pateley from where we took the vicious climb up to the top of Heyshaw Moor, with the sun now out. It was actually beginning to feel quite warm. From there I was on auto-pilot, just hanging on really. We got back to Ilkley in exactly 5 hours for the 74 very hilly miles. It was gratifying to realise at the end that the other two were fairly stuffed as well. It had been hard. After feeling rather lethargic this last week I really felt like I needed this ride today.

In the afternoon I cycled over to Burley to watch No.1 son play in a 3rd XI cup game, one that had been postponed from a wash-out while he was in Peru. Apart from the fact that the weather was truly beautiful (finally another little teasing taste of summer), I wish it hadn't been rearranged. My lad was run out from a direct hit without facing a ball, and in a rather dire low-scoring game, he didn't get a chance to bowl either. In a team which is there - or so I thought - to foster the development of the younger cricketers, it made absolutely no sense to me that he didn't get a few overs to try to make something happen in the game. He was really fed up at the end. And I was fed up for him. I love cricket with a passion, but it can be awful when things are not going your way. If nothing else, it is at least offering him some valuable lessons in life!