Having more or less lost the last two days of work I had to spend the first day of the weekend playing catch-up. At least my head was a lot clearer and I made good progress. In between spells at the computer I spent some time hanging out with the boys. It feels like I've not had much quality time with them recently. It felt good to have them both at home again, and although they are quickly back to needling each other - which is what siblings like to do - I think the two spells they've had apart have actually brought them closer together. There seems to be a bit more care and respect about each other - albeit in a very subtle way. They would never admit to it!
Early evening I decided I really ought to get some air and headed out on to the moor for a jog up to the cairn. The chance to get out the previous three evenings was completely scuppered by the heavy showers. I took it very easy, although I didn't seem to have much choice in that because I seem to have lost my running legs. There was no spark there at all. I felt very unfit! But I survived the couple of miles without mishap. I couldn't detect any tightness and no aches or pains afterwards so I should be happy. It's just upsetting that I felt so slow! More catching up to do.
Saturday, 12 July 2008
Friday, 11 July 2008
Another gritty day
I was hoping for a better day today, but it didn't work out like that. It was the same story all over again, this same application causing me to question my sanity even further. I was faced with a situation where I was being shown something that just didn't make sense. I could apply no reasoning to explain it at all. In the end, with some much needed help, I was given a perspective on the logic behind the weird behaviour I was witnessing. It was all about assumptions. And I'm becoming increasingly aware of how often it is that I assume something which seems perfectly reasonable (to me), only for it to be proved invalid, and thereby rendering whole chains of thought invalid at the same time. It's worrying that I can be so at odds with the world, but I think today was a case where the designers made their own assumptions - and it is those which are invalid rather than mine. Writing this now, with a bit of space, I can understand most of the weird behaviour of the last few days, but I contend that my assumptions about behaviour were reasonable enough, particularly since they were based on how the previous version of this application worked. I think I was right in my expectations. I feel like I shouldn't have to get my head into other people's assumptions. If it was a one off it could be excusable, but all Microsoft software seems to be like this. The interfaces are always clumsy and counter-intuitive. They are an easy target, I know, but it's hard not to believe that they don't make that extra bit of effort simply because they don't have to. And it makes me thoroughly fed up when it ruins my day.
There was an Earlybirds meet in town tonight for a drink. I wasn't feeling very sociable but I made the effort to go and I had a great evening. I think I really needed a few beers. With Cacophony laid up with his broken wrist and with Gizzajob and Harry Quinn having both completed the Etape du Tour, in what sounded like horrible conditions, things have been a little quiet of late so it was good to catch up with everybody's news.
There was an Earlybirds meet in town tonight for a drink. I wasn't feeling very sociable but I made the effort to go and I had a great evening. I think I really needed a few beers. With Cacophony laid up with his broken wrist and with Gizzajob and Harry Quinn having both completed the Etape du Tour, in what sounded like horrible conditions, things have been a little quiet of late so it was good to catch up with everybody's news.
Thursday, 10 July 2008
A day to forget
I don't feel inclined to write much about today. I've been stuck at the computer from first thing this morning until early evening and feel like I've achieved nothing. There have been moments when I've questioned my sanity. I've found a small design flaw in my software and because of the pressure of time decided to take a short cut rather then sort it out properly. I should know by now that that is always a bad idea. In the end I wasted loads of time, although in fairness to myself that was mainly because of design flaws in some Microsoft software, a new version of which I was using for the first time. The old version was idiosyncratic enough, but this new version just seems to be a whole lot worse. I know a lot of this is down to me being used to working in a certain way, but I still can't help but think that an interface which leads someone to think they are losing their mind has to be considered badly designed.
No.1 son at last got some cricket in tonight. Opening the batting he scored a quick 30, including a majestic straight-driven six, before getting caught in the deep going for another big one. He hit the ball really hard, and inflicted a bit of damage on a couple of the fielders along the way. It was great to see him timing the ball so well, especially as he hadn't had a bat in his hand for some 3 weeks. A big score was there for the taking so I guess I was a little a bit annoyed with him - as he was with himself - for getting perhaps a little carried away, but it was also the right thing to do in the context of a 20 over game. In the end, the heavens opened again before the game was over, and for the second successive evening I cycled home in a deluge.
No.1 son at last got some cricket in tonight. Opening the batting he scored a quick 30, including a majestic straight-driven six, before getting caught in the deep going for another big one. He hit the ball really hard, and inflicted a bit of damage on a couple of the fielders along the way. It was great to see him timing the ball so well, especially as he hadn't had a bat in his hand for some 3 weeks. A big score was there for the taking so I guess I was a little a bit annoyed with him - as he was with himself - for getting perhaps a little carried away, but it was also the right thing to do in the context of a 20 over game. In the end, the heavens opened again before the game was over, and for the second successive evening I cycled home in a deluge.
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
Holme Moss Revisted
I needed to meet No.1 son off the plane at Manchester Airport this morning so it made sense to cycle over there to get a ride in - to make up for what is likely to be otherwise a barren week. I was planning to leave at 5.30am but somehow that didn't happen, and in the end, after one false start (forgetting my bum-bag with some key essentials), I didn't set off until a bit after 6am. I think I must have been half asleep because I suddenly realised that I was going to have to ride a bit damn quick to make his 9.20am arrival time. Climbing up the hill out of Cottingley, down to Thornton, and then all the way up to Queensbury, I chose a great route to Brighouse, avoiding Bradford completely, but it was hard work. Perhaps it was simply down to the very early start, or that I was pushing the pace, but I didn't seem to have any power in the legs at all. Nevertheless, I made good time to Huddersfield, only to have great trouble finding the road on from there to Holmfirth.
It really annoys me that signposting is so bad in towns. If you want to find the nearest motorway or city there is no problem, but if you want to find a nearby small town it can be hopelessly difficult. I found myself heading out on the wrong road, having to turn back and resort to asking a few locals, who were no help at all, before eventually finding a road which I recognised from a few weeks back. It was a relief to be heading away from the town and into the hills, and rather exciting to catch a glimpse of the TV mast on the top of Holme Moss. It was a long way up! I had lucked out yet again with the weather. It was cool, but dry and windless, a wonderful change after all the wind and torrential showers of the last few days. From the top it felt like it would be all downhill to Manchester, but I only had an hour before the flight was due to land. I really didn't want him to be standing at the arrivals gate wondering where I was.
So, short on time, I made the decision to avoid the scenic route through Glossop and Hayfield and take a more direct line. I'm not sure how wise this was because I really hadn't accounted for the heaviness of the traffic, which was hard to fight through - and the endless sequence of traffic lights. Again, the signposting was far more geared to getting people on to the motorways, but although - having now looked at the map in detail - I didn't take the optimal route, I managed at least to avoid making any bad mistakes. I took in the delights of Hyde, Stockport and Cheadle, before picking up the road to the airport. The best clue to the direction I needed was the planes themselves, which were coming in ever closer over my head! I eventually got to the airport half an hour after the scheduled landing time at 9.50am. My lad was there already. I was very relieved to be told that he'd just walked through the gate 30 seconds before! What timing. If it wasn't for the bizarre signposting for cyclists at the terminal, which seemed to direct me into the dead-end of a loading bay, I would have been there on time.
It was good to have the train ride home to talk about his trip to Peru, although we both felt exhausted. He had really missed his cricket, and hadn't really got the travelling bug. He'd had a great adventure, but was very, very happy indeed to be home. He had an under 17s match in the evening, but as if on cue, the rain started up again late afternoon, and after a brief period of respite - just long enough to entice us all down to the ground in the hope of being able to play - the heavens opened once more, which set in for the rest of the evening. I felt really bad for my lad that yet another game had been lost to the rain. I am also amazed at how lucky I continue to be with my cycling. Just like the trip back from the airport a few weeks back, I managed today to hit the only little window of calm amidst a run of bad weather. Uncanny!
It really annoys me that signposting is so bad in towns. If you want to find the nearest motorway or city there is no problem, but if you want to find a nearby small town it can be hopelessly difficult. I found myself heading out on the wrong road, having to turn back and resort to asking a few locals, who were no help at all, before eventually finding a road which I recognised from a few weeks back. It was a relief to be heading away from the town and into the hills, and rather exciting to catch a glimpse of the TV mast on the top of Holme Moss. It was a long way up! I had lucked out yet again with the weather. It was cool, but dry and windless, a wonderful change after all the wind and torrential showers of the last few days. From the top it felt like it would be all downhill to Manchester, but I only had an hour before the flight was due to land. I really didn't want him to be standing at the arrivals gate wondering where I was.
So, short on time, I made the decision to avoid the scenic route through Glossop and Hayfield and take a more direct line. I'm not sure how wise this was because I really hadn't accounted for the heaviness of the traffic, which was hard to fight through - and the endless sequence of traffic lights. Again, the signposting was far more geared to getting people on to the motorways, but although - having now looked at the map in detail - I didn't take the optimal route, I managed at least to avoid making any bad mistakes. I took in the delights of Hyde, Stockport and Cheadle, before picking up the road to the airport. The best clue to the direction I needed was the planes themselves, which were coming in ever closer over my head! I eventually got to the airport half an hour after the scheduled landing time at 9.50am. My lad was there already. I was very relieved to be told that he'd just walked through the gate 30 seconds before! What timing. If it wasn't for the bizarre signposting for cyclists at the terminal, which seemed to direct me into the dead-end of a loading bay, I would have been there on time.
It was good to have the train ride home to talk about his trip to Peru, although we both felt exhausted. He had really missed his cricket, and hadn't really got the travelling bug. He'd had a great adventure, but was very, very happy indeed to be home. He had an under 17s match in the evening, but as if on cue, the rain started up again late afternoon, and after a brief period of respite - just long enough to entice us all down to the ground in the hope of being able to play - the heavens opened once more, which set in for the rest of the evening. I felt really bad for my lad that yet another game had been lost to the rain. I am also amazed at how lucky I continue to be with my cycling. Just like the trip back from the airport a few weeks back, I managed today to hit the only little window of calm amidst a run of bad weather. Uncanny!
Tuesday, 8 July 2008
Precious Time
One of those days today where I was always short on time. I don't think I've ever felt it to be a more precious commodity than right now. Trying to balance the commitment to family, friends, work, and one's own fitness, is sometimes an almost overwhelming challenge. It wasn't actually that hard today, but I always felt too rushed, never quite able to completely focus on the immediate problem in hand for having half an eye open to all the other things going on. It's good when those commitments can be combined ... which is the plan for tomorrow morning.
Monday, 7 July 2008
Slippery Slopes
No training again today (blobbing on the Harrier's Cycle Run), but it's somehow been a good day nevertheless. Still very cool and miserable for July, with more heavy showers punctuating the overall drabness of the weather - and I'm still not quite right with this cold - but I'm finishing the day on a bit of a high. Got a lot of software bits and pieces sorted out, so there is a feeling of things coming together despite the massive pressure that's on me right now. Also, got caught by the rain on the way to the station from the office in Bradford, so ran half a mile to avoid getting completely soaked - a test for the calf that was passed without any real problem.
Late in the evening, catching the last of the light and inspired by Graham Napier's antics for Essex in the 20-20 quarter against Northants (if any player has ever been so completely in the zone then it is this man at the moment), No.2 son wanted to throw a ball around for half an hour. I did quite a bit of running back and forth, again without a problem. Haven't done much of this with my lad this summer, but it was a lot of fun. And I'd forgotten just how well he can catch, and how well he can throw. A dislocated shoulder from a bike fall a few years back has done my throwing arm in, but at least I can still catch ... although I dropped a few tonight, something I never used to do. I've an awareness that my reaction time and coordination are not what they used to be. Another slippery slope I find myself sliding down!
Late in the evening, catching the last of the light and inspired by Graham Napier's antics for Essex in the 20-20 quarter against Northants (if any player has ever been so completely in the zone then it is this man at the moment), No.2 son wanted to throw a ball around for half an hour. I did quite a bit of running back and forth, again without a problem. Haven't done much of this with my lad this summer, but it was a lot of fun. And I'd forgotten just how well he can catch, and how well he can throw. A dislocated shoulder from a bike fall a few years back has done my throwing arm in, but at least I can still catch ... although I dropped a few tonight, something I never used to do. I've an awareness that my reaction time and coordination are not what they used to be. Another slippery slope I find myself sliding down!
Sunday, 6 July 2008
Wimbledon
I've not left the house all day. Not even to pop out to Tesco. It was raining when I woke up this morning and it never really stopped until lunchtime, since when we have 'enjoyed' some really heavy, inundating showers. It's been an odd feeling, incarcerated in the house by the weather, thinking of loads of my friends, some cycling the 3 Counties, some doing the Etape du Tour in the Pyrenees, others running at Kettlewell, all braving this horrendous weather. There is that mixture of emotions again, part thankful to be warm and dry, but part envious of that battle against adversity that makes us feel so alive.
I got a lot more work done this morning, but I feel a bit down. Not very alive. It's a feeling of anti-climax I suppose. It's probably essential to have the odd blobby weekend, but I didn't enjoy just hanging out so much today. I think I'm only really good for one day like this at a time! But then, it was a pretty good day once more to binge in front of the TV. I've never been much of a Formula One fan, but I've got drawn into it this year by No.2 son's interest and the British Grand Prix today was exciting to watch, with a great result for Louis Hamilton.
That was then followed by the men's final from Wimbledon and what a match it was - even better than last year's epic. It was fantastic to see a great match where the big points were won by amazing winners rather than lost by unforced errors. The fourth set tie-break brought back memories of Borg v McEnroe in 1980 and that match still seems so fresh in the mind it was almost frightening to realise that was all of 28 years ago. This is when I really feel old, having a sports nut as a dad and therefore having watched the big sporting occasions from my very tenderest years, when Wimbledon was an amateur tournament and the few professional players like Rod Laver were barred from taking part. Is that really in this same lifetime? It seems scarcely possible.
I have to admit that I was rooting for Nadal today. There was a sense of destiny about it. They both wanted this title so very much, but perhaps Nadal, in the end, wanted it more, the sheer physicality of Nadal's strokeplay eventually winning out over Federer's guile and finesse. It felt like they were playing for more than the Wimbledon title too. This was to decide which of the two is the best player in the world right now. And the longer the match went on the more there seemed to be at stake. The greatest thing was that instead of their games falling apart under the pressure, they both seemed to be able to raise yet further and further on the really big points. It was almost certainly the most spectacular match to watch in the game's history. It had everything.
It's hard to imagine seeing anyone breaking through their hegemony for some while, so I'm hoping for and expecting a re-match next year. Better try to keep that weekend free. I think Andy Murray has some work to do to join this very top league. I wonder how he felt watching that final today? It must be somewhat daunting. Or perhaps inspiring?
I got a lot more work done this morning, but I feel a bit down. Not very alive. It's a feeling of anti-climax I suppose. It's probably essential to have the odd blobby weekend, but I didn't enjoy just hanging out so much today. I think I'm only really good for one day like this at a time! But then, it was a pretty good day once more to binge in front of the TV. I've never been much of a Formula One fan, but I've got drawn into it this year by No.2 son's interest and the British Grand Prix today was exciting to watch, with a great result for Louis Hamilton.
That was then followed by the men's final from Wimbledon and what a match it was - even better than last year's epic. It was fantastic to see a great match where the big points were won by amazing winners rather than lost by unforced errors. The fourth set tie-break brought back memories of Borg v McEnroe in 1980 and that match still seems so fresh in the mind it was almost frightening to realise that was all of 28 years ago. This is when I really feel old, having a sports nut as a dad and therefore having watched the big sporting occasions from my very tenderest years, when Wimbledon was an amateur tournament and the few professional players like Rod Laver were barred from taking part. Is that really in this same lifetime? It seems scarcely possible.
I have to admit that I was rooting for Nadal today. There was a sense of destiny about it. They both wanted this title so very much, but perhaps Nadal, in the end, wanted it more, the sheer physicality of Nadal's strokeplay eventually winning out over Federer's guile and finesse. It felt like they were playing for more than the Wimbledon title too. This was to decide which of the two is the best player in the world right now. And the longer the match went on the more there seemed to be at stake. The greatest thing was that instead of their games falling apart under the pressure, they both seemed to be able to raise yet further and further on the really big points. It was almost certainly the most spectacular match to watch in the game's history. It had everything.
It's hard to imagine seeing anyone breaking through their hegemony for some while, so I'm hoping for and expecting a re-match next year. Better try to keep that weekend free. I think Andy Murray has some work to do to join this very top league. I wonder how he felt watching that final today? It must be somewhat daunting. Or perhaps inspiring?
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