Juneathon 2013 Day 3 - A Gentle Stroll

Juneathon 2013 Day 3 - Walk  3 miles, Time 55m

In all these years of ‘athoning I have never tried to run everyday. Exercise - yes; but I am a great believer in the need for rest, recovery and variety. Two days on, one day off is a good pattern for me, so today I limited myself to an amble in the countryside. Just like yesterday, though, the core of the day’s activities had nothing to do with exercise.

There was a visit to the Bladnoch . It is one of the smallest distillers and one of the few remaining independents. It only has an output of about 200,000 litres a year, raised from a previous limit of 100,000,  which can be produced in just two weeks of the year. It is a traditional and friendly place and as you walk around you have few reminders that you are in the 21st Century. In an industry dominated by huge conglomerates, this is artisanal - and all the better for it.

A couple of miles away is Wigtown, Scotland’s cut down version of Hay-on-Wye.  It is a small, sleepy place but full of second hand book shops. I spent a chunk of the afternoon browsing and my favourite find was an edition of Francis Bacon essays, which had been annotated in beautiful copperplate by a student of Trinity College (in 1905 - he was very full with his notes!). All I can say is that hand writing has certainly deteriorated over the years.

So there you have it - a day of whisky and books. Who knew Juneathoning could be such fun

Juneathon 2013 Day 2 - Forget the exercise

Juneathon 2013 Day 2 - Run - 5.2km, Time - 30m

Blackwell - Main Hall

The reason I had to run so early yesterday was that it had to be fitted in before driving to the Lake District. I am away for a couple of days diversion and a change of scenery.  Today I woke up in Kendal and the morning’s run was  alongside the river Kent. It was perfect: the morning sun was out, the air was fresh but not cold and beside me the water flowed fast and clear. Yes everything was perfect except  me. Once again I struggled and it  was much harder than it should have been.  But I refuse to dwell too much on that and have no intention of turning this blog into some sort of misery memoir.

Instead I will talk about the pleasure I had during the day: of walking round Blackwell, the Arts and Craft house designed by Mackay Hugh Baillie Scott, and then visiting the house of the great theorists who prepared the way for that movement: John Ruskin. Brantwood (Ruskin’s house) is one of my favourite places. It is not in anyway an example of good architecture (the exterior is a jumble) but the location overlooking Conniston Water is beautiful, the garden is bountiful, and the interior is a monument to all that Ruskin achieved (I just don’t know how he managed to write and do so much). It is a good place to sit and think ... and then eat (as there is a really good café ).

Blacwell - overlooking Windemere

Juneathon 2013 Day 1 - A good slapping

Juneathon 2013 Day 1 - Run - 3.5km Time - 19m

Don't just stand there - spread your wings

As everyone knows June is the month where you exercise everyday, supposedly as a form of fun. I should thus be leaping out of bed with a spring in my step and a song on my lips, looking forward to seeing the rosy fingers of morn’s early morning light, hearing the chirruping of birds, and sensing the fresh air passing over my skin... But somehow it is not quite like that - something is a little bit wrong.

For the past month or so I have lost my mojo and have not felt like doing anything much at all. It started (as it usually does for me) with a chest infection that hung around and left me feeling lethargic. lIt’s as if my world has been smothered in a soft grey blanket. “Don’t go out.” a voice would tell me “There is no point. You will only be disappointed in both your lack of speed and stamina.” 

Oh that siren song! It promises to protect your comfort and shield your esteem but it actually does the reverse. It closes down your world and leaves you with less.

I recently saw the film ‘A Late Quartet’, which is about the crises faced by a well established string quartet when their cellist discovers he is in the early stages of Parkinson’s and will shortly have to retire. In one scene he participates in an exercise class with other suffers. The instructor explains that the disease constrict movements making you take shorter and shorter steps and limiting your gestures, physically turning you in on yourself. To fight against this she forces them to stretch and move, to fight to expand their range of movement. 

Never mind the music, or the emotional angst and tangled relationships that drove the story - it was this small tangental scene that rang some bells in my head. I might not have Parkinson’s but the mind can play similar games and box you in. You need to shake yourself out of the stupor. It is my hope that Juneathon will do just that. I am looking upon it as a slap round the chops combined with a firm injunction to “Stop being pathetic!”. 

 In fact I took the idea so seriously I was up at 4:45 and out running by 5:00. (Who said I couldn’t be hard core?). OK it was not very far and I felt a bit rubbish at the end but that’s beside the point. It is the intention that matters.