Health – Page 2 – Middle Age Fanclub

Review: Rhod Gilbert at the Grand Theatre in Leeds.

Rhod Gilbert is a notoriously dour comedian. A bit miserable and matter of fact. Funny though, but cynical and blunt. And tonight we’re promised that things will get beyond blunt.

Rhod’s latest tour – Rhod Gilbert and the Giant Grapefruit – is all about his battle with cancer over the last 3 years. Well, they do say that we can find humour in anything.

As he takes the stage he’s quick to warn us that things are going to get dark. But we know why we’re here and exactly what the circumstances of the show are. Gilbert has fought and beaten head and neck cancer, after the discovery of a growth – that’ll be the grapefruit – on his neck. Ironically, this was found during a trek in South America to raise funds for his local cancer hospital. And as the man himself says, when life throws you lemons, you make lemonade. But when life throws you grapefruits, you’re never going to be sure quite what to do. But, like comedians are inclined to do, he made a joke out of it and took it on tour.

It’s a very different night of comedy that begins with the comic asking if there are any people in the audience who’ve also had cancer. But it works. There are, I suppose as you’d statistically expect, a fair few audience members who have gone through and recovered from cancer. A couple of people have even had the same cancer as Gilbert and so some of tonight is spent discussing what they’ve been through. It’s never indulgent and always funny (which feels like a weird thing to write even now).

It’s a brilliant show. Gilbert is, as ever, engaging and forthright. Nothing is held back, meaning that a few thousand of us are treated to tales of cancer based constipation that we probably could have done without! But, even when we’re cringeing about it, we’re laughing. Along the way, we’re treated to tales of John, Rhod’s driver while he was unable to drive himself, who is ridiculed mercilessly.

As promised, there are lots of darker moments tonight. It’d be impossible to avoid after a 3 year cancer journey. But it’s actually uplifting. Brutally honest and all the while searching for a bright spot, but it’s dark. I find myself wondering whether or not it’s ok to laugh at times, but realise that the whole room is laughing so it’s probably the whole point. Sometimes, when the chips are down, if you don’t laugh, well you’ll probably cry and I know which I prefer.

There’s a brilliant section near the end of the set where Rhod gives out awards for those who’ve featured in his battle against cancer. I won’t give the game away as some of you might go to see the show in the coming months, but there’s a brilliant tale involving a trip to get treatment that almost ended up in Aberdeen of all places. And remember, Gilbert lives in Wales! There are also awards for those who reached out to Rhod during his last 3 years, some with wise and beautifully written, sage pieces of advice…and others where it’s just plain weird.

The show ends with Rhod now offstage and a video that was made during his treatment. Keeping with the themes of the night, it’s funny while also being really sad at times and we’re given just that extra little bit of insight into Gilbert’s character. Thankfully, it’s been a happy ending and I dare say that there was more than just me in the room who was choking back a few tears as Rhod rang the bell to signal that he’d beaten cancer.

Welcome back, Rhod!

Middle Age: Tales of the unexpected.

I’ve been writing this blog for 6 years now. The original idea was to sort of diarise stuff about getting older; welcoming in middle age and documenting what it was like, if you like. That quickly changed when I realised that I’d given myself a platform where I could write about…well, anything!

Six years ago, I’d had a heart operation and so my first 3 blogs were about that. It was the reason for starting the blog. I suppose it was kind of cleansing. A way to let people know how I was feeling without having to do any of that awkward talky stuff that I’m not a great fan of. But then I got to liking writing about all manner of stuff and noticed that there were more than just my friends reading. So suddenly, there I was typing up my thoughts and feelings about music, fashion, young people, football and eventually even plucking up enough courage to share some poetry.

It’s been a while though since I wrote about middle age, but recently I got to thinking about some changes I’d gone through that I hadn’t really expected. So, I thought I’d give the rest of you advance warning of some of the perils of middle age. Something to look forward to, eh? And if you’re already of a similar age or older, some of this might resonate and make you chuckle.

Going white. I’m 52 now and so far, while I’ve been going grey since my early thirties, it’s been a pleasingly slow progression. I’d say that most of my hair is still black and that thankfully, aside from some patches in the sides, I’m more pepper than salt. However, following an operation I wasn’t able to shave for a while. I was fine with this. Being happy to be alive will make you far less vain and so being unshaven and subsequently growing a beard didn’t phase me at all. What did bother me though, was the fact that my beard came through as largely white! I mean, when there was a bit of growth, say after a week or so, I was beginning to resemble some kind of apprentice Santa Claus! Definitely not the change that I was expecting.
Losing my hair. To clarify, I still have a decent head of hair. There are far more who are far younger than me who have lost a lot more hair. That said though, lately I’ve really noticed how much I’m receding. And while in reality there’s very little chance of it, I’ve been beginning to fear the development of a hair island at the front of my head! My forehead is definitely growing where there used to be hair! Like I say, I think it’s a way off as yet, but it’s really bothered me.
Strange marks and blemishes. Another unwanted imperfection has been the development of marks and blemishes on my body. I already have three notable scars – two on my chest and one on my right calf – so I could do with the latest additions to my body! A year ago, I got an infection right at the top of my left leg, just where it meets the hip. I’ve no idea how, but it ended up as a real mess when the cyst burst and I ended up at the doctors. Even he took a deep breath when I revealed the mess that my leg was in. Anyway, a year later and the marks are still there, like two ugly red scars. I also have a mark on my shin that I can’t explain and right in the middle of the large scar on my chest it’ll sometimes get dry and itchy, making for another horrible blemish. Add to this a small red area on the end of my nose and it’s becoming a bit of a problem! It seems that when these things happen nowadays that my body just can’t move on! It’s honestly one of the worst bits about middle age that I’ve encountered so far!
My body. Having been slim all my life, middle age is no fun. I used to be able to eat anything and it had no effect. Now though…ooof! Too much spice = heartburn, coffee = feeling sick, pizza, I’m steering clear of as I think I’m developing an aversion to cheese, red wine (oh, red wine), that used to be my best friend, gives me nightmares and a thumping heart in the night! And it all makes me put on weight. I have a belly that I’m really not fond of, but try as I might it just won’t shift. My body is not enjoying middle age!
Bruises. Suddenly, bruises are taking far longer to heal and going far bluer or greener than before. What’s that all about? I rarely bruised as a young man, but now the slightest touch against almost anything and I’ve got a nasty bruise. This means that, as a teacher, I have a more or less permanent bruise at the top of my thigh where I’ve walked into yet another desk as I do my ’rounds’ in the classroom!
Memory. Now, I’ve never had a great memory. I’m terrible at remembering birthdays and rarely know the lyrics of songs, despite the fact that I may have been singing them on and off for over 30 years. However, middle age has now brought the curse of not being able to remember why I came into a room. The kitchen is the favourite here and it often doubles up as I remember why I’m there – to get something out of a cupboard – but can’t remember what the something was that I was getting.
Hair growth. If you’re wondering, yes, this is a strange thing to include in the same piece as a bit where I worried about hair loss. But that my friends is the weird and ‘wonderful’ world of growing into middle age. Sometimes, everything’s a conundrum! Suffice to say, since the onset of middle age I seem to be sprouting hair in places where I don’t really want it. Firstly, I have more back hair than I’d like. It’s not a great deal, but I’d prefer none really. I’ve always been quite hairy anyway, but my back seems to have decided to play catch up with my chest, arms and legs over the last few years. My eyebrows too have gone rogue. The hair there is just taking on a life of its own and I’m finding myself having to trim it regularly to stop it encroaching up my forehead. And then, there’s my nose. Not just hair in there, but growing on the outside too and while both have been a constant in adult life, it would seem that they’re now just heading into some form unwanted of overdrive! Believe me, shaving the outside of your nose is no fun whatsoever!
A realisation of my uselessness. I’m not really useless. There are lots of things that I can do and lots that I’m actually good at. However, what worries me is far more fundamental. The older I get, the more I’m finding that the essential ‘man stuff’ is a bit beyond me. There’s just loads of stuff that I cannot do. Let me explain. Recently, one of the spotlight bulbs in our bathroom stopped working. This wasn’t a problem. They were easy to change, I’d heard. Just press on the outside, it’ll drop down from the ceiling and you pop the bulb out and put another in. Except ours didn’t. Naturally though, being a bloke, I couldn’t resist a half hour struggle with it first, which succeeded in me breaking the unit leaving it now dangling from the ceiling! The springs to hold the unit in place were either left dangling with the light or flew off into the loft which meant a long time spent crawling around our loft space trying to find them amongst the insulation. No fun, dear reader, no fun! Suffice to say, another two bulbs went soon after, leaving us with one working spotlight. It turned out that our electrician had fitted the less than easy to change versions and only after several trips to YouTube was I able to figure it out and even then fixing it all was far from easy. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so frustrated. Add to my spotlight woe the fact that I won’t go near electrics having electrocuted myself quite badly in the past, I don’t like speaking to people on the phone and that I can’t change a tyre and I’m stuck in middle age feeling pretty useless!

It seems really unfair that just because you get to this stage in life that a million unexpected things start to happen to you. I mean, the health worries have been more than enough and I thought all the awkward changes I needed had come in puberty. I imagined my next stop was pensionable age and all that would happen would be fully expected! This present pit stop is not at all enjoyable!

Anyway, less moaning and more positivity. I’m still here and most of my hair is still its natural colour! Until next time…

Book Review: ‘Above Head Height’ by James Brown.

Confession time. I had a little bit of a misspent youth. Nothing to panic about. Not committing crimes, not doing a great deal to disrupt others and not going out of my way to be obnoxious. My misspent youth consisted of doing the kinds of things that were important to me for as much as my time as was humanly possible, while neglecting the stuff that seemed boring, but on reflection might have actually done me some good.

My misspent youth largely revolved around football. Naturally, there were girls a bit later too, but I was no Casanova. Mind you, I spent endless hours playing football and I was no Maradona either! But wherever I could and whenever I could, I played football. ‘Above Head Height’ is a book for all of us who have obsessed and continue to obsess about football. ‘Above Head Height’ is what happens when your misspent youth continues through your entire adult life.

If you love football, then ‘Above Head Height’ is a must read. Even if you only have a casual interest in the game it’s still definitely worth a look. Brown – the former editor of the groundbreaking Loaded magazine – takes us through his own personal obsession with football, from days and nights playing any-number-a-side street football right up to his present day situation where he plays football with various social groups about 4 or 5 times a week. It’s an encyclopedic look at the game and why we play it, as well as why we get so obsessed and so for those of you like me and James, it becomes a very interesting read.

Brown’s experience of football as a kid will be familiar to a lot of us and as such, offers a huge slice of nostalgia for simpler football related times. Huge sided, barely organised games in the street, the park or wherever there was space and playing until you were either dragged in by a parent or it was just too dark to see anymore. Sometimes even that wasn’t enough to stop us!

‘Above Head Height’ takes us on Brown’s journey through football in its many guises. It’s a path well trodden for many of us. There are his experiences with school teams, playing with gifted players, playing at college and university, early adult five-a-side leagues and then onto time spent coaching his son’s team (something which a lot of us will have stumbled into inadvertently!).

This is more than just a book about football and a football obsessive. ‘Above Head Height’ starts with the funeral of a fellow player and Brown touching on the fact that, despite having spent years playing with this man, he really didn’t know him. He could pass comment on his playing style and pay tribute to his organisational skills – he was the bloke who organised the league – but what did he really know of the man he’d spent so much time with?

Ultimately, ‘Above Head Height’ is a book about friendship, camaraderie, obsession, health, fitness and the realisation that none of us are getting any younger. Football is just the orange or black and white checkered sun that it all orbits around. Of course, there will be family, careers, births and deaths, but sometimes it will feel like none of it is as serious as our feelings for the beautiful game!

If you remember the Wembley Trophy (or the penny floater if you’re from my neck of the woods), if you’ve ever spent far too long explaining the whys and wherefores of your latest ‘world-class’ goal, if the phrase ‘jumpers for goalposts’ still makes you smile and if you still dream that you might just get the call to play professionally, then ‘Above Head Height’ will be right up your street.

I give ‘Above Head Height’…

Another step in the right direction: The Pontefract 10k 2024

Sometimes life’s just not fair. When I first looked at the projected weather forecast, 5 days prior to this race, it told me that it would be relatively cool and that there might even be a chance of light rain. So, in many ways ideal conditions for running. But as the day got closer the forecast changed and Sunday brought temperatures in the 20s and no cloud cover. Just what I would have wanted to avoid!

A year ago, the Pontefract 10k was my first race after having surgery to have a pacemaker fitted. Obviously, it brought its own challenges and in the end I was happy to finish in just under an hour. This year, with a lot more runs under my belt – albeit often taking two steps forward to then take two or three back – I was hopeful of a much better time. And then the hot weather decided to put in an appearance.

Last year’s race was meant to be the final one ever, but then late last year someone told me that Pontefract was on again and following a quick online search I found myself entering once more. I’ve ran this race for the last four years now and absolutely love it. There’s always a friendly, welcoming atmosphere, it’s well organised and despite the undulations of the course (so many hills!), it’s just a really enjoyable run.

I do feel a little bit guilty about doing runs like this. In the grand scheme of things it’s not that long ago that I was collapsing in front of my family and scaring the life out of them, so insisting on running these races might be a bit much. However, they in turn insist on coming with me and I know they’ll spend the time between seeing me start and seeing me finish worrying, but at least they can hopefully see that I’m getting stronger and stronger. However we all feel, I’m very grateful for their love and support and it’s always a boost when I see them near the end. Or hear them before I see them as is often the case!

We arrived early this year as we had to pick up my race number, but despite my fears of an enormous queue, it only took a minute or so to sort out. So we found a sunny spot and stood chatting in the sun for a while, with me doing the occasional bit of half-hearted stretching. All the while, at the back of my mind was the thought of exactly how hot it was going to be out on the run, meaning that my usual pre-race nerves were ramped right up.

Before I knew it though, we were shuffling forward and a local DJ was counting us down. And then, we were off! I gave a quick last wave to my family and began to run and gather my thoughts.

Pontefract starts with a long, long hill and every year I have to concentrate hard to pace myself as otherwise I go too fast and then suffer for it in the middle of the race. Today though, I’m still shaking off a bit of a cold and so as a consequence I’m running fairly steadily and hoping that it’ll pay off towards the end when I can really up my pace. Fingers crossed! Even this early though, my mouth was beyond dry, so while I’d half-heartedly told myself that I could run about 51 minutes, the heat was going to make that a tough ask.

Pontefract is a lovely run. It’s largely rural, so for most of the race you’re in the middle of the countryside and I used that a bit today in order to try and forget about the heat. The one problem with this rural landscape is that the chances to run in the shade are few and far between and so while I was slowly baking I tried to take my mind off things by taking in the views. I was kidding myself if I thought it was really going to work though and it wasn’t overly long before the heat was beginning to take its toll.

However, by around the halfway point I had ran for 25 minutes, meaning that a reasonably quick run was in sight. But oh, those pesky hills! There are a number of steep climbs on the way back towards the finish and so, combined with the heat, the second half of the race began to feel quite brutal quite quickly.

I kept checking my watch for both speed and distance covered and stayed really focused, even though I was slowing down with every climb. And then as we reached a hydration point I completely lost focus and slowed right down while trying to grab a bottle of water and then take a few big gulps without throwing the whole thing down myself. It was only when I threw the bottle to one side that I realised that I was jogging and that I should have tipped the remaining water over my head!

As we got close to the finish two things happened – firstly, I could feel a numbness in my wrist and left hand as my hands swelled up (again) in the heat. Off putting to say the least! Secondly though, I managed to find a last bit of energy in order to speed up significantly for the last mile.

As I turned into the final straight before the finish line I just decided to sprint. I knew that my time wasn’t going to be exactly what I’d been aiming for, but I was still well inside the 55 minutes that I’d told my son to expect for me. My legs were like jelly and I was far too hot, but I managed to pass a couple of people before just about staggering over the line!

It’s always a weird feeling finishing a race. I got a little bit emotional after this one last year as it had been the first race since my pacemaker and I was genuinely a little scared about doing it. At other times I’ll feel fairly fresh and be able to wander through the finish enclosure smiling and looking halfway alive still. Today, I revert to what is more or less type for me; shattered. I know I must look an old vagrant and like I might just fall over, but I don’t much care. I’ve done it and I’ve got a huge grin on my face.

So now it’s back to training for me. I’ll have a look at whether there are any other races to enter in the coming months, but in the meantime life outside of work and family will just be about running and recovering. I’m still fully aware that I’ve had a major scare and with the reasoning being that the fitter I am, the stronger I am, it’s just about more of the same.

I’m still here, I’m still able to run and I remind myself of this kind of thing every day! So however shattered I might feel after something like this, it’s still something to smile about.

Running: As Spring heads into Summer, here’s a cautionary tale.

I’ve labelled this as a running blog, but with the weather beginning to heat up, I guess it’s just a cautionary tale for lots of us, really.

On Friday I went out for my usual after work run. I’m currently training for an upcoming 10k and so had hoped to run the same distance, just to see how it felt. However, even as I went out at just before 6pm, it was still 24 degrees, which is hot for us northerners. It would have been hot to sit in, but I chose to go for a run!

It was an absolutely beautiful evening. The sun was shining in a lovely blue sky and there wasn’t much of a breeze. But it didn’t take long for me to realise that this was going to be a bit of a struggle.

After a couple of miles, while I wasn’t struggling, I was uncomfortable. The heat meant that I was losing my focus and in turn I was thinking about the fact that I was too warm, too thirsty and beginning to feel tired. I had also begun to fuss about little things; my right trainer didn’t feel tight enough and this was beginning to really bug me, so I had to focus again quickly. I began to think about my route and also to give myself short term goals like quickening my pace or dropping my shoulders a bit or even just counting my steps to retain concentration.

It didn’t work. In the end I got my mileage all wrong. First, I got confused between two routes and took a wrong turning, believing that I had enough route left to comfortably manage the 10k without having to run up a ridiculous hill for the final half mile. Then, having checked my watch a few times, I misread how far I’d gone. The heat befuddled my brain enough that I couldn’t add up anymore and a while later was dismayed to find that I’d only done 4 miles when I thought I’d have covered 5! I knew then that managing a 10k was going to be difficult.

But things got worse. As I got closer to home I realised that my left hand was feeling a bit numb. Now, as a heart patient, any left sided action (pain, numbness etc) can leave you panicking. Something about it didn’t feel right and I was quite concerned. I kept on running though and as I did I realised that my watch felt too tight on my wrist. So, with a little difficulty. I loosened it off. But this still didn’t solve the numbness.

Slightly later and closer to the end of my run I noticed that my hands looked swollen. On closer inspection my wedding ring felt absurdly tight and as a man with thin, girly fingers this was a bit of a surprise! My hands and wrists had swollen right up and I can only put it down to being far too hot. Needless to say, after just short of 6 miles and with a big hill to come before I’d hit home, I stopped, rather than risking reaching boiling point!

When I eventually made it home my hands were still so swollen that I had to just stand with them in a sink of ice cold water for a good 10 minutes, while occasionally taking them out in order to drink more water. Despite trying to run in shade I’d put myself in real danger.

As I said, it’s a cautionary tale. And so, I’ll end with a bit of common sense advice (which I failed to adhere too because I clearly lack common sense). If you’re out for a run in the heat you’d be wise to…

Hydrate properly. Drink enough beforehand and maybe take some with you. And when you finish, drink copious amounts of water!
Maybe wear a hat, regardless of how gormless you think you’ll look. It’s still a better look than swollen hands or ending up flat on your back on a pavement somewhere.
Find the shade. Run in as much of it as you can manage.
Wear some suncream or sun block.
Make sure that you warm down and stretch properly once your exercise is over with.
And if your hands swell up so that you look like someone holding a couple of red balloon animals, get them in some water as quickly as possible!

Enjoy the warmer weather!

Book Review: The Runner by Markus Torgeby.

As a young man, Markus Torgeby quickly grew disaffected by a lot of what the world around him had to offer. He knew that society’s expectations were not for him. Despite being a talented runner though, he sensed that pursuing this as any kind of career was not going to work. Too often, injury or just not being in the right mindset got in the way of any kind of competitive edge. As he says himself at the start of the book, “My head was full of dark thoughts. I didn’t know what to do. I had to rethink what it was I really wanted, I had to find a way out of that well.”

What Markus did next – which is documented in the book – seems both astonishing and really quite wonderful.

‘The Runner’ is an international best seller and tells the tale of one man and his quest to find contentment. In short, Torgeby headed up into the Swedish wilderness to live in a tent and dedicate himself to a more simple life, where money didn’t matter, but running most certainly did.

It’s an amazing true life tale, beginning in Jamtland, northern Sweden where the temperature is -22 and Markus is the only person for miles around. This is where he escapes the norms of society, pitching his tent and living among nature complete with enormous amounts of snow, elk and even the threat of bears.

As you’d imagine from the title, running is very much central to Torgeby’s existence. When he vows to run every day, he means it and nothing will stop him, be that extreme weather conditions, injury or mental health issues. Torgeby isn’t just testing his fitness – he’s pitting himself against both the most extreme elements and also just the odds.

Running is where Markus is at peace and I have to say that resonated with me, as I’m sure it would with many runners. The only difference would be – and it’s a seismic difference – that while the majority of us are running around the civilised, normal streets or trails near where we live, Markus Torgeby is running around in one of the most isolated, northernmost territories on the planet! There are threats to life almost with every step he takes. This is not the tale of an everyday runner, despite the fact that he runs every day!

‘The Runner’ is actually really well written and Torgeby rarely shies away from telling us exactly how he’s feeling or what he thinks of the world, even if it can be uncomfortable to read at times. His blunt honesty is one of the most positive features of the book and it’s hard not to be impressed by Torgeby’s principles and way of life.

And then there’s the sheer courage of it all. As someone who rarely takes much in the way of risks, ‘The Runner’ makes for an absolutely fascinating read. Torgeby leaves home to live his life his way when he’s barely much more than a child. And yet, his lifestyle choice is utterly remarkable, especially when you know that he is burdened by the thought of his mother’s suffering, back at home. She suffers with MS and some of the most beautiful passages in the book revolve around her relationship with her son, as he cares for her and helps to make sure that she is still able to experience the wonder of the world around her.

After four years of living in his tent in the wilderness, Markus begins to come to terms with the world around him and the contentment that follows – I won’t spoil what that consists of – gives us a bit of a happy ending.

Part of me felt jealous of Torgeby while reading the book and I questioned some of my early adult decisions in life. It’s funny how something like this can take us back and make us more self critical. Ultimately though, at the age when Markus left home for the wilderness I was probably barely able to cook for myself, let alone live in a tent in some of the most unforgiving territory on the planet, so I was able to give myself a break after all!

Whether you’re a runner, health freak, someone with an adventurous spirit or none of those things, this book is a great read. For me personally, it was interesting to see that I had things in common with the writer and that we shared such a love of running. Ultimately though, if you like an interesting take on life or just enjoy learning about some of the bolder ways to live, then you’ll enjoy this book.

I give ‘The Runner’ by Markus Torgeby

Spring is springing, so why am I looking back?

As we creep out of the darkness that winter has held us in for the last 4 months or so, I’m finding myself casting my mind back a year. I don’t want to. I’d told myself I needed to move on. And yet, here we are, reliving many of the negatives of a year ago and I’m not entirely sure why.

This time last year, I was 4 months into my recovery after heart surgery to fit a pacemaker. I was suffering physically and mentally. However, while physically I was slowly getting better and might even have started running again, mentally I was struggling.

I would continue to struggle for a while longer too.

This time last year though, I could at least feel like the end of being so poorly and frankly useless, was in sight. Every day I’d go for a walk and since starting this in the November of the previous year, I’d gradually been able to go out for longer. So, a year ago I was managing to take myself out for a walk for a good hour, some days more if the weather was brighter and warmer. I’d just wander, but mainly I had two routes. Either I’d walk slowly up to one of our local parks and take in the sights there, or I’d head out a bit further across some farmland and along a public footpath, past horses and cattle and down towards a golf club before realising I was way too tired and ambling home.

As the days got warmer and lighter I started noticing more. Leaves appearing on trees, buds of life on shrubs and flowers and as soppy as it might sound, it gave me a bit of hope.

A year on and it’s funny how things change. I’ve been back at work and back to the usual routine since around March 2023 and I don’t feel like I’ve settled at all. I still feel my pacemaker every day. It’s just there; a slightly heavier presence in my chest than normal. Day by day, it just sits there and whenever there’s even the slightest palpitation or flutter, it just kicks in and works. Sometimes, for no apparent reason it makes the area around it ache and can be more than just a little bit uncomfortable. Recently I’ve had a sharp pain around the place on my chest where the wires come out of the top of the pacemaker. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, but I’d rather it wasn’t there as well.

Being back to ‘normal’ has been strange, mainly because deep down I don’t feel like I am really back to normal. Most things are a bit more of a strain than I remember. I’m much more tired, much more easily, which in turn means that I have to really try hard not to be grumpy at everyone and everything! And I am really trying.

In September, when the new academic year started, I made it my goal to just try and be relentlessly positive. I praised classes for the slightest thing, spent a chunk of down time every day adding positive points to our monitoring system so that kids could see I appreciated them, kept smiling and was as energetic as I could be in class and even in meetings, which was a major struggle for me!

I felt that the positivity had slipped around Christmas time. I was counting down the hours of the day, the days of the week and just clinging on for the weekends when I could relax and just get out more and have time to think.

Since January I’ve tried to get back on that positive horse and I think I’ve done ok, but if I’m honest I’m still just clinging on. But then clinging on is not losing my grip, so maybe I should be grateful. I find that I’m looking back a lot. For one, I wish I’d admitted to being poorly about 6 months before I did! Whether much would have changed, I’ll never know. I’m also thinking back to those early spring walks and noticing the colour returning to the world. Oddly, despite feeling so lost at that particular time, I really miss it.

I remember speaking to a friend when I first had my operation last year. He’d previously had heart surgery too and he told me that feeling like myself again was going to be a long process. Turns out he was right!

So, while the buds appear on the shrubs in the park and trees begin to go green once more, I’m looking back when I really need to look forward. Maybe I should take spring as my inspiration. Clearly, some kind of changes are needed.

Always Look on The Bright Side: 5 Things that Made Me Smile in January.

I’ve not written one of these types of blogs for a little while. It’s not been a case of everything being terrible during that time; more just being incredibly busy. And anyway, who really needs a blogger telling them that Christmas makes them happy?

I went into January purposely telling myself to be positive. It’s not a month that I’m a great fan of and I decided that if I just forced myself to be relentlessly positive, it might make it easier to get through. And while I wouldn’t say that it’s been a resounding success, it’s definitely been helpful. This attitude did mean that I actively sought out reasons to be cheerful.

So, what’s made me smile this month?

The tidy Welsh mouse. I loved this and I couldn’t stop watching the accompanying video. It’s a BBC report about a retired postman in Wales who was baffled by the fact that bits and pieces kept getting tidied away in his shed at night. Seeking an answer to this mystery, he set up a night vision camera on his workbench. When he watched footage back he was greeted by the fantastic sight of a mouse tidying stuff like nuts, bolts and pegs away into whatever container had been left out.

And it got better – Rodney (our retired postman) then started experimenting by leaving different types of objects out, but whatever he left got tidied away! The only disappointment was the name that he gave the mouse; Welsh Tidy Mouse. I mean anything would have been better than that! Anyway, you can watch the little fella on the link below. The mouse that is, not Rodney.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-67902966

Newcastle United winning the derby. If you’re not a football fan or just have no knowledge of Newcastle United and our derby match, allow me to fill you in. Our closest geographical rivals are called Sunderland. However, we haven’t played them in a long time due to being in different divisions. Well, this all changed when we were drawn to play against each other in the FA Cup in early January.

The lead up to the game was tense, to say the least and there was the usual back and forth about who would win between the two sets of fans. It’s an intense rivalry, to say the least.

It’s a game I really don’t enjoy and the nerves are horrendous. Suffice to say, come the day of the game I was unusually quiet and felt very sick indeed. I needn’t have worried though, as we wound up winning the game fairly easily (3-0) and it was an absolute joy to behold. Football eh? It’s only a game and yet somehow, it’s really much, much more than that!

Making plans for a bit of a meet up. I live a long way from both of my childhood best friends. One of them, I see a few times a year as he lives in the town where I grew up, so a visit to see family will always take in a meet up with him and his family.

However, the other spends a lot of his year living abroad as part of his job. We haven’t seen each other in a good few years, so when we were exchanging messages a few months back we came up with the idea of a meet up. It’s something we’ve often floated in the past but it just never seems to happen.

This time though, things are looking good and the provisional idea is that we’re going to meet somewhere that is reasonably equidistant to our houses and go for a hike. It might be in the Peak District, which also happens to be one of my favourite regions of England. We’ve not quite got anything concrete planned as yet, but I’m right in the middle of planning and for once, it looks like we will actually see this one through. Definitely a reason to smile.

Some good news on the running front. Regular readers of my blog will be familiar with my love of running. People who are new to the blog, forgive me; it’s something that I never tire of banging on about and I’m probably very much a running bore!

Anyway, so far this January I’ve managed to get myself entered for two 10k races – one in March and one in May – and my training is going fairly well. I’ve not pushed myself too hard, but have still been regularly going out and running between 5 and 6 miles a week. And as of yesterday, I learnt that the 10k I’m taking part in this March will also feature several mates from work, which is always good fun. It’s always lovely to see people at these things, not least because they’re all incredibly encouraging.

I still get incredibly nervous at these things and nowadays am always worried that something will go wrong and that I’ll have another episode with my heart, however unlikely that might be. So, when I’m getting ready to run, I know that I’ll probably bump into someone that will ask about my health, my pacemaker and just really help to calm me down. And that, dear reader, will at least make me smile a tiny bit.

Yoga. Several years ago and with more than a hint of cynicism, I was persuaded to give yoga a try. I was sure it wouldn’t be for me and sure, given the fitness I thought I already had that it’d be a breeze. I quickly learnt that it was very tough going indeed.

However, I loved doing yoga from that very first session and although it confirmed my lack of flexibility, I was keen at least! Sadly, with the pressures of work and having a young family we ended up giving it up after about 6 months. We always thought we’d start again fairly soon. That didn’t transpire though.

This January my wife suggested we try again and given that I seem to be constantly training for something or other, I was quickly in agreement. We started about three weeks ago and have been doing a couple of sessions per week. We’re not attending classes, just using the YouTube app on the television to follow the regime of one of many yoga instructors out there, but it’s working.

I have to say, I’m loving it once again. Yoga is generally tough, especially when you’re as inflexible as me, but it helps me to relax and I know that in another few weeks I’ll start to reap the benefits. So, when I’m stuck in some ridiculous position, every sinew straining, my body probably wobbling a bit with the pressure of that particular pose, you can be sure that a smile won’t be far away.

If you’ve never tried yoga I can definitely recommend it!

Running: How a change of scenery can make all the difference.

If you’ve read my blog for any amount of time you’ll already be aware that I love running. It’s something I’ve done for most of my life and the older I get, the more kind of evangelical I can feel about it. Running clears my mind while also testing me to my limits. There’s a lot to love about that, as far as I’m concerned.

I’ve written quite a bit about running; from tips, to accounts of races and even reviews of books on the subject. Recently though, I got to thinking about motivation; what gets me out, what I enjoy the most, what keeps me going when I’m exhausted or even just not feeling quite right.

I didn’t come up with a whole host of factors, to be honest. In the main it’s sheer bloody-mindedness that keeps me going. I set a goal and refuse to give up. However, one thing I have realised is what a difference a change of scenery can make.

Essentially, I’m a creature of habit. I’m usually happy just running around various routes where I live. However, I’ve come to realise that the odd change of scenery can be quite inspiring too and nowadays it’s the kind of thing that gets me genuinely excited about going for a run.

I’m lucky with where I live. There are plenty of places where you can go for a reasonably quiet run and not have too many obstacles – gangs of teenagers, yappy dogs – to avoid. And if you like hills, then you’ll find plenty where I am! I can’t say I’ve always been a fan, but the more I put myself through it with those hills, the more I enjoy the challenge. But sometimes, the same few routes can get a bit monotonous.

A few years ago I started to do Parkruns and I enjoyed the change of scenery, even if the trails weren’t the most fun for me. It was at a local country park called Oakwell Hall, which I knew well anyway. But even though there are a few Parkruns local to me, I’ve still only ever done the one. I think it’s just the thought of getting up early on a Saturday and the drive to get there that keeps me away.

What really inspired me to seek out different places to run was taking my running gear on holiday when we went to Majorca about 6 years ago. Again, I knew the place fairly well. It was Puerta Pollensa and we’d been there a few times before. Having watched loads of cyclists setting off from our hotel every morning, I got to wondering what it would be like to get out and explore a bit, rather than just sitting around the pool. And so, one year I took my gear and went out midway through our week there.

It was an absolute game changer! I remember that it unusually hot and that the sky was incredibly blue with not a cloud to spoil it. It was April, but felt more like a hot summer’s day. I only ran for about 4 miles – in the end the heat got to me – but it felt wonderful. I could gaze up at the mountains as I went and take in the early Spring flowers that were out in force. For the first few miles I didn’t give a single thought to pace or how my body felt. And so I decided that I’d make this a regular holiday thing and subsequently managed a couple of more runs in Puerta Pollensa.

Since then, I’ve tried to add some occasional variety to my routes both at home and on holiday and it always inspires me. I’ve been to a few different places locally, exploring bits of other towns and villages and I always find that the change of scene concentrates my mind a little more. I often take photos on the way though, so it also slows me down a bit.

Further holidays have meant different runs too, some more challenging than others!

We usually head down to North Wales early in the summer holidays and running there is always a test as it’s just incredibly hilly. The scenery is amazing and there’s the added bonus of ending up on a beautiful beach, but when I’m dragging myself up those hills it’s hard to reconcile the sense of challenge against the feeling of liquid legs and a pounding heart. Heading off the roads and on to the beach; hearing the noise of the waves, passing the sand dunes and feeling the slight give of the sand under your feet is pretty special though.

I usually run 6 mile loop when I’m down there. It takes in 6 big steep hills (I so want to call them mountains!) as well as the downside to a few of them too, which is always a blessed relief. On the route there are views of some mountains, a golf course, some beautiful houses and even a llama farm! Believe me, there’s nothing quite like the sight of grazing llamas on a remote Welsh hillside to wake you up on a morning!

We took an Autumn break in October 2022 and I was really looking forward to going for a run. We were heading to Alcudia in Majorca and not only did it look beautiful, but it looked flat too. I couldn’t wait to get out there and follow any runs up with a long dip in the hotel pool! And then I collapsed in the airport which eventually led to me having heart surgery less than a month later! So, running in Alcudia remains on the ‘change of scenery’ list!

In the latter part of last year I managed two more runs in very different places. Firstly, on a trip home to Newcastle to see family and friends I got up especially early, having plotted out a route along the edges of a local industrial estate and ran a 10k. Not the greatest scenery ever, although there was a brief view of the Angel of The North, but it was the flattest run I’d done in ages meaning I could really have a go at a good time. It was also reasonably quiet, presumably because most of the factories and businesses had started work, so that was also quite nice – none of the usual fighting for pavement space or avoiding rogue dogs!

My last ‘away’ runs of the year came once again in Majorca. Following last year’s troubled break we went away again in early November determined to make the most of the break and knowing that I’d be able to take part much more than last time!

I managed to find a street map via Google and so planned out a route that I could take, looking it over several times in order to try and commit it to memory. It took in some of the quieter parts of town and some of the outskirts and more rural areas as well as a good portion of the sea front, so I was sure to have plenty of sights to take my mind off those aching legs!

As you’d expect, running in Majorca was hot, even in November, and so it made it fairly difficult, but the change of scenery worked its magic. In fact, it worked so well on my first run that I actually managed to get lost, running down what I thought was the right road before discovering it was a dead end after about half a mile and styling it out by turning round and running up the other side of the road as if that was what I’d intended all along!

The mistake meant that I was determined to get back out later in the week, just so that I could check out the bits of the route that I’d missed. And so, a couple of days later I set out again and managed a slightly quicker 5k while keeping the pace low enough to be able to take in every last one of the sights. So, not a serious bit of training, but a lot more interesting than my usual routes!

This year I plan to add more changes of scene to my running routine and have already signed up to a new race, with more to come. We’ll definitely be off on holiday too, so I’ll be making sure to take my gear with me. Aside from that I’d like to explore a few more places and have vague plans for some very early starts that will enable me to drive out to a few places and go running there. I haven’t settled on anywhere specific yet, but I won’t leave it long.

So, if you feel like you’re stuck in a rut with your running or just a little bit bored, try a change of scenery. It really can make all the difference!

The Joys of Volunteering

For the last few months I’ve been trying something a little bit different. It started with just giving my son a lift to where he was going and then curiosity and trying to be a good dad somehow got the better of me. Now, I seem to be a fully fledged volunteer!

In actual fact, the whole thing really started around a year ago. My son had decided to do his Bronze for the Duke of Edinburgh Award and as part of his challenge he had to do 6 months worth of volunteering and so, following in his sister’s footsteps, he started helping out at a local Parkrun. For the majority of the time there were four of them, all friends, doing this. But then occasionally it’d just be him and so I got involved and stood marshalling with him on various parts of the course. Often cold, but always bearable!

When he decided to then do his Silver D of E award we thought he’d change his volunteering to something else. But he didn’t and so here we are again!

For the first few weeks I would just drop him off and then go for a long walk around the country park that the run takes place in. After all, it wasn’t me who was taking part in the Duke of Edinburgh award and besides, I saw my Saturday morning hike as good recovery time, as my heart operation was a few months previous. The exercise combined with that early morning solitude was blissful!

Then, one week my son asked if I fancied joining in and doing some marshalling with him. Having done a few weeks scanning the barcodes of the finishers he fancied a change and so of course, in my quest to be dad of the year, I said yes.

There are loads of different roles that you can volunteer for at a Parkrun. I had a look at our latest roster and that told me that there were 15 different jobs to choose from. You can fulfil various roles at the finish, as well as tail walking with the last participant, be it a runner or walker. And in marshalling alone, we have 11 different checkpoints to fill. So, there’s a lot of variation in what you can choose to be doing in supporting the runners.

As a marshall, all we really do is watch the runners come past our checkpoint, keep an eye out for any problems, answer any questions and make sure no one walks across the course as the runners approach. Oh, and clapping. We do a lot of clapping and encouraging.

Of course, it’s been winter and so the conditions have been cold, to say the least. The standing around doesn’t help either and in fact it can leave me in a bit of pain as my back and my feet don’t seem keen on just standing. A couple of weeks ago we were soaked to the skin, despite wearing heavy coats, as the rain was just torrential. But the race went on! It made me look forward to Spring and the weather being a bit warmer though!

Volunteering always leaves me in a good mood. For a start, there’s the sense of pride that you get in just being able to help out. It’s nice that lots of the runners will actively thank us as they go round. I always think it’s nice to be appreciated, even though it feels strange to be thanked when the runners are the ones exerting themselves! But at a time when my mental health hasn’t always been good it’s a welcome boost.

It’s nice to feel like part of something too. There’s a friendliness and a sense of community amongst both runners and volunteers and although I’m quite quiet and don’t really talk to too many people, it always feels like we’re welcome and very much appreciated. And of course it’s good to spend some quality time with my son too, despite the early mornings!

In the future, perhaps in retirement I’d like to do more volunteering. We’ve talked about helping out at one of the RSPB reserves as it’s something that’s been of interest for a while. I’d like to volunteer with the homeless too. I think that given I’ll have a bit more time to play with once I’m retired or at least semi retired, it’d be good to use that to help others.

In the meantime, volunteering is something that I’d actively encourage anyone to try. It can get you exercise and undoubtedly helps with your mental health. The fresh air alone is really important to me.

If you’re thinking of volunteering, there are over 1200 different Parkruns around the U.K. It’s easy to do, even if it is quite early on a Saturday or Sunday morning and the rewards are great. I can’t guarantee the weather, but it’s something that I’d definitely recommend. Give it a go, it might just make a really positive change in your life!

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