I’ve done some things that can’t be done And I have smiled inside the storm reaching higher to keep warm. I’ve known love and love has won. I burned my fingers on the sun. (Silver Apples….again)

And so it came to pass, dear listener, the call that I had been expecting for some time – a call for a driver required by the good Doctor W. Not a medical call (cos she’s not that kinda doctor) but another challenge to rank with that of last year’s Embra marathon and being an extra voyeur for Lip Service, BBC 3’s trendy lesbian drama. Altho’, our scene ended up on the cutting room floor. W was running in Tough Mudder. 🙂

At its simplest it is a 12 mile run (?) over wild and horrible terrain (?) running through mud (?), making your way through extremely cold water (this challenge was called the Arctic Enema!), having burning bales of hay thrown at you (?), climbing over tall walls (?) and finishing by running through some kinda electric shock treatment (?) to the finishing line. 😦

Those competing had to sign a death waiver; those spectating just a waiver. It was tough. 😦

At its most complex, it involved me with an incredibly early start (even for me) and getting lost in Motherwell at 5.30 in the morning, at which point I had to make the decision of asking for directions – was that person going home or an early starter for work? Y’see the back road I normally take having been to the Gay Cottager’s Car Park* was closed and I didn’t stick with the diversion signs. But eventually I did find WTowers and the trek began.

*I have no idea why I now give this car park capital letters and I have no idea why I have made it singular. Can you cottage alone? George? Michael? Any thoughts?

Anyway without the aid of her Sat Nav we made it in time for W to run in the first wave and for her to finish in about four hours which was amazing. My fave competitors, other than W, were the guys who did it wearing suits (!) and the five guys dressed as Ruud Gullit (!) and every woman who plunged into the ice cold water and came out of it with her…….excuse me while I go for my own cold shower at the point. It may have a different effect this time round.

With the aid of her Sat Nav we got away safely but it was me wot found my car. That yellow Post-It on the driver’s window helped.

I was reminded of the time just after Son Brian had passed his test and we took his mum’s car to the Scottish Open at Loch Lomond and lost it. And found it. Oh, the look of panic on his face. Now he lets me know in advance when he’s giving clothes to charity.

Or the time when Study Buddie Fi and Jay the Boy Wonder and me went to the living hell that is IKEA and Fi couldn’t find her car, until she pointed out that that day it was our car, since my own was parked at her house and if we didn’t find hers, then I certainly would not make it to mine. We found it pretty damn quick after that. But I have found a really nice candle shop just up the road from the school. I intend to buy a tart warmer. Or two.

I make no comment as to similar (temporary) losses incurred by us both in the multi-story of blessed memory just across from the uny library where I am writing some of this just now.

And can I just say one thing; the whole event was to raise money for www.helpforheroes.org.uk Any questions? Any problems with that?

And another one thing, patience, (as I’m sure you’ll agree Sharon) has its own reward. And another one thing, I got given a book about John Peel which, apart from anything else, drew my attention to this particular track. The man and someone’s guitar had talent.


And finally, it was very pleasant to bump into the very serene e during the week altho’ I do feel bad about expecting her and bump to cross the road and pay for the coffees and to those wondering how the Domination Degree is doing – this coming week I actually plan to read some of the stuff I have printed off and listen to the new Gaslight Anthem album I have pre-ordered……but not eat crisps, chocolate or cashew nuts (unless out of LIDL in Kilbirnie…they were good.) And I have signed up for tai-chi lessons.

Cya, keep(ing) it fun and still wearing that badge? It was smiling the whole time.

Johnt850, brushing the cobwebs off the running shoes even as we speak.

And I want to take this opportunity to thank again the folk who got in touch when I wanted to go back on the drink again recently. And talked me out of the idea one way or another. I’m mentioning this cos I was talking about this to someone who said, ‘Yes. It must be hell not being able to have the odd pint now and again.’

And I explained that there is nothing to stop me trying that other than fear. Don’t worry. I’m now going to get into theoretical stuff or talk about controlled drinking or people who say that you should avoid that first drink and then don’t. Sheep. Lamb. Nagging. (Sorry I meant to type ‘Hanging’ there! How weird was that? Somebody does control this keyboard at times.)

No. The importance of avoiding that first drink came to me at the first of the few AA meetings I have attended. Avoid that first drink and you’ll be fine. So I do. 😀

There’s a line in a James Ellroy book about a guy who’d been off the bottle for a long time but then had a drink and enjoyed, ‘the burning session as the whisky flowed over his throat.’……I miss that sooooooo much..….avoid that and I avoid finishing up in the canal. 😦

Anyway back to John Peel’s book. Many years ago, my alter ego’s dad bought a job lot of 78s (ask a museum) and they were mostly highland pokers and stuff but at one pint, sorry, point, I found this. It was a defining moment in my appreciation of music. Of music and the man-woman thang. Enjoy.




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