Crazy Cherry Bakewell

Saturday afternoon. Having finished my job-list I had a Cherry Bakewell with a mug of tea and read a bit, then figured I needed to do something so got the bicycle out and figured an hour or so's ride before dinner. Within minutes of starting out the heavens opened. I tried in vain sheltering under a handy tree.

Wearing my thin cycling shorts and T-shirt, I took the latter off before it got too wet and stowed it in my pannier and continued my ride bare-chest thus demonstrating the efficacy, in a rain storm, of removing rather than putting on more clothes. It worked. It continued to rain steadily for almost the whole duration of the 13 mile ride backside of Knockalt. True it was a bit cold, but not so cold as it would have been wearing a saturated T-shirt. Speeding down the long downhill to the main road was awesome and scary; the rain stinging my skin and with my eyes screwed almost shut.

Doubtless drivers that passed me thought I was crazy but, if being different from the status quo equals crazy, perhaps I am.

The Cherry Bakewell and tea was good. The mad cycle ride was good. And the long, hot shower upon my return was good.

Morning lakeside

Early morning swim

Here is a small selection of the 92 photos I took during this morning's run, just to demonstrate how rich I am to be able to run barefoot along this beach. Without doubt this is the best time of the day and the time most people miss. But that's OK - I would not want the whole world sharing my treasure.

The yacht club

The bridge

Morning glory

More running in the rain

It rained all day. Having determined to take the afternoon off, and having a fresh supply of Creme Eggs, I cycled to the Curragh again. Round trip 25.6 miles average speed 12mph. Having got there (a feat in itself in the rain) I enjoyed running barefoot on the wet, sheep-cropped grass. Strange - I saw no other pedestrians.

This is my track whilst running. A mere 6.37 miles, average speed 5.7mph. Starting at lower right my path went clockwise - at the furthest extent to the left (west) is the hill on which a battle is waged in Brave Heart.

New platform for viewing the Liffey at Ballymore Eustace

I took the following pictures around the top-most part of my track - they bring back happy memories of numerous sorties with a trailer carrying my son's various scrambling inventions...

Monument at Donnelly's Hollow

Curragh grave-yard

Here be where JM rode his machines!

and here

And finally back to my bike for a well-earned Creme Egg and drink of water. At this point leg cramp was setting in - on which account I had to stop several times on the return journey.

My trusty bike awaits me

Home again. Fried sliced new potatoes and cod served with peas and crusty bread, followed by brownie with ice-cream and pouring cream. And a can of cider. Thanks Ali!

Running in the Rain

I generally wake soon after sunrise every morning which leaves me with time by myself on Sunday mornings. This morning it was raining so I went for a longer than usual run (maybe 8 miles) along the lake shore, with a couple of short swims. The rain was steady all the time - and still is - and the temperature an acceptable 12'C. Did I mentioned before that I love running in the rain? Oh, and the lake water actually felt warm in comparison - an illusion but a nice one none-the-less.

Take Courage

As a child I thought the adverts to "take Courage" rather clever. Coincidentally the idea has been revived in a banned recent advert. I hadn't realised just how many times the Bible talks about taking courage, though doubtless not the bitter kind.

I have heard various takes on the extraordinary relationship between the apostle John and Jesus as in "there was leaning on Jesus' bosom one of his disciples, whom Jesus loved." Was John Jesus' favourite? Come to that, what about the extraordinary relationship between Lucy and Aslan in C.S.Lewis's Narnia stories. Was Lucy Aslan's favourite? Any suggestion of something merely sensual is as absurd here as it was for Jesus. Both relationships were on a higher plane than the mundane. It is like... I was listening to my favourite composer the other day when, first, the sound of our petrol lawnmower outside my open window cut across, and then came the yells of several children running along the corridor outside my door - noises that had no bearing on the blessèd music, noises that could mask but could not adulterate.

True relationship is not fuelled by a pretty face or by common interest but is about the heart. "The LORD is nigh to those of a broken heart; and saves those of a contrite spirit". King David did much worse things than Saul and yet Saul was rejected whilst, even after his death, David's heart was said to be "perfect with God".

Paul could confidently say "for I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day" and Abraham "believed God, and it was imputed unto him for righteousness: and he was called the Friend of God." In comparison any such relationship I might claim to have seems decidedly weak and second-hand. But in any event true relationship gets proven only in adversity. Faced with difficulties we discover how we measure up.

The Dark Island in Lewis's Voyage of the Dawn Treader was such a difficulty. It seemed hopeless - there was no way out. And so the heart which was in Lucy whispered, "Aslan, Aslan, if ever you loved us at all, send us help now." The darkness did not grow any less, but she began to feel a little - a very, very little - better. "After all, nothing has really happened to us yet," she thought.

"Look!" cried Rynelf's voice hoarsely from the bows. There was a tiny speck of light ahead, and while they watched a broad beam of light fell from it upon the ship. It did not alter the surrounding darkness, but the whole ship was lit up as if by searchlight. Caspian blinked, stared round, saw the faces of his companions all with wild, fixed expressions. Everyone was staring in the same direction: behind everyone lay his black, sharply-edged shadow.

Lucy looked along the beam and presently saw something in it. At first it looked like a cross, then it looked like an aeroplane, then it looked like a kite, and at last with a whirring of wings it was right overhead and was an albatross. It circled three times round the mast and then perched for an instant on the crest of the gilded dragon at the prow. It called out in a strong sweet voice what seemed to be words though no one understood them. After that it spread its wings, rose, and began to fly slowly ahead, bearing a little to starboard. Drinian steered after it not doubting that it offered good guidance. But no one except Lucy knew that as it circled the mast it had whispered to her, "Courage, dear heart," and the voice, she felt sure, was Aslan's, and with the voice a delicious smell breathed in her face.

In a few moments the darkness turned into a greyness ahead, and then, almost before they dared to begin hoping, they had shot out into the sunlight and were in the warm, blue world again...

...The Dark Island and the darkness had vanished for ever.

"Why!" cried Lord Rhoop. "You have destroyed it!"

"I don't think it was us," said Lucy...

...So all afternoon with great joy they sailed south-east with a fair wind. But nobody noticed when the albatross had disappeared.

Those words "if ever you loved us" and "Courage, dear heart" echo in my heart whenever I feel down. And notice how it is only Lucy who sees the detail: it is as if she is tuned to a higher plane. Some folk criticise Lewis but one thing can be said - he knew his Bible. This was no sickly emotional dribble but an allusion to those times Jesus imparted courage to his listeners. I like Lewis's writing because it is uncomplicated yet deep in meaning, concise yet rich in connotations. So what is this "courage" thing?

Courage is mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty (Merriam-Webster). In the New Testament the Greek word is tharseo and has the idea of inner warmth and thus an emboldening from within. It is variously translated "be of good cheer", "take heart" or "take courage" and always in the imperative. In all but one instance Jesus is speaking, for example (1) Seeing their faith, Jesus said to the paralytic, "Take courage, son; your sins are forgiven." and (2) But Jesus turning and seeing her said, "Daughter, take courage; your faith has made you well." and (3) "These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world."

Each time Jesus is exhorting folk who have already moved in faith. As if He knew that past faith in God does not preclude but rather almost guarantees future difficulty or tribulation. Like Lucy, I find myself needing courage.

The measure of a man

The other day I was listening to an audio-book of a short Sci-Fi story "The measure of a man" and the twist at the ending made me cry. The plot, in brief, is that the protagonist sacrifices himself to save the human race. I am not normally emotional - so why did this bring tears to my eyes? Perhaps it is because a story like this echoes the Greatest Story ever told epitomised by all that is implied by "For God so loved the world that He gave his only Son that the world might be saved through him".

It is the same story that Lucy found in the magician's book where, on the next page, she came to a spell "for the refreshment of the spirit". The pictures were fewer here but very beautiful. And what Lucy found herself reading was more like a story than a spell. It went on for three pages and before she had read to the bottom of the page she had forgotten that she was reading at all. She was living in the story as if it were real, and all the pictures were real too. When she had got to the third page and come to the end, she said, "That is the loveliest story I've ever read or ever shall read in my whole life. Oh, I wish I could have gone on reading it for ten years. At least I'll read it over again."

But here part of the magic of the Book came into play. You couldn't turn back. The right-hand pages, the ones ahead, could be turned; the left-hand pages could not.

"Oh, what a shame!" said Lucy. "I did so want to read it again. Well, at least I must remember it. Let's see . . . it was about . . . about . . . oh dear, it's all fading away again.

And even this last page is going blank. This is a very queer book. How can I have forgotten? It was about a cup and a sword and a tree and a green hill, I know that much. But I can't remember and what shall I do?"

And she never could remember; and ever since that day what Lucy means by a good story is a story which reminds her of the forgotten story in the Magician's Book.

And later when Lucy asks "Shall I ever be able to, read that story again; the one I couldn't remember? Will you tell it to me, Aslan? Oh do, do, do" Aslan answers "Indeed, yes, I will tell it to you for years and years..."

For me a good book or film makes me cry. Would that I might also measure up.

Lough Ree

Some pictures taking whilst camping by the shore of Lough Ree. Click on the images to view. I ran (barefoot) each morning before my fellow campers surfaced, not interesting enough to expand on though.

Locomotion

Locomotion: noun - movement or the ability to move from one place to another.

When young, my bed was a ship on which I lived and went places. Now, when driving and on my own, I can figure I could live and travel in this car, it would be my castle. My bicycle is an extension of myself, my locomotion - self contained, self propelled, self sufficient. I have the same feeling, only more strongly, when running barefoot. That I can run and run for miles, just me without aid, is a great feeling.

The occasion was Ali's mum's 90th birthday party so I was based in Willand again, and afterwards in Torquay for a couple of days. During which I did three tracked runs.

150724 Culm valley run

The first route was my prophesied run to Culmstock. It rained steadily the whole time and, although I love running in rain, I was not able to appreciate the river valley as much as I had hoped. The run was about 11.5 miles and my average speed, according to my GPS, was 6.05 mph.

150726 Cullompton run

The second route followed the river south through Cullompton. Once again it rained steadily the whole time. I had been asked to buy milk "on my way back" and, on entering the shop totally drenched, the cashier remarked that she had not realised it was that wet!  Total distance 10.8 miles, average speed 5.78 mph.

150728 Torquay run

The last route started from the Travel Lodge in Torquay. I found a beautiful valley near Cockington.

I found myself running across the front lawn of Cockington Court and was not sure whether I was trespassing. Part of the estate took me under this bridge.

At the furthest point I looked back to Torquay, and forward to Paignton.

You can see from the track that I made it down to the sea - this beach was secluded enough for a quick swim naked (it was early morning). And then back along the coast road to the hotel. Total distance 7.7 miles, average speed just 4.37 mph this low figure being due to getting momentarily "lost" in some undergrowth which got progressively denser and more brambly until I was forced to retrace my (barefoot) steps. There is a limit to the amount of brambles that one can entertain when barefoot.