V C Musings
With very little in the way of Orienteering to report you will have to subject yourself to some of my more bizarre musings this week:
I think I’ve said previously that I’m lucky to have a canal towpath not too far away which I can use for training runs. Issue is, I have to run a couple of km’s down to it. Ergo I have to run three km’s up to get home – see pic below for the run profile. My musings aren’t about this though; just the random thoughts that drift in and out of the space between my ears during these runs.
The other week whilst jogging along the canal there were a number of fishermen doing their thing. Now, I’m not being sexist here, just stating facts; the fisher women were few and far between. Well to be precise, non-existent. I’ve already put this particular musing on the WSX WhatsApp so forgive me for repeating myself. Allegedly Fishing is, by number, the largest participation sport in the country. Which begs the question – what are all the women doing whilst their menfolk are participating in this pastime for hours on end?
A week ago, along the same towpath, where there are quite a few reeds obscuring the view of the canal. I heard the beating wings of a bird attempting take-off from the water. It had obviously heard or felt me approaching and wisely thought to escape. It was a lower cadence of beats and splashes than of a duck, yet faster than the slow dynamic beat from a swan. Looking up, a Cormorant appeared! I had always assumed cormorants were predominantly a sea bird but here we were, twelve miles inland. Perhaps some birds suffer from navigational errors as well as us orienteers? Consulting that demi-god Google, it transpires that you do occasionally find them on a river inland on their own.
Running along the same part of the tow path last Saturday after a few days of rain and attempting to avoid the small puddles. The tow path it has to be said, was in pretty good nick and I’m sure it must have been graded a year or two ago. However very shallow depressions had been worn away, due to the passing of many shoes, boots, trainers and bike tyres, creating, after rain, these small puddles. They seemed fairly regular. But is that the case? Are they random or do they conform to some mysterious pattern? Does anyone care? Perhaps a subject for a Physics thesis?
They say these things come in three’s: The other week I lost my grey beanie hat. I swear I finished my run wearing it but cannot for the life of me find it now. Then on a run up into Kingscliff Woods I lost one of my Buffs. I had taken it off my neck, as I had sufficiently warmed up and wound it round my wrist. Half way through the run I noticed – no buff on my wrist. Then Saturday whilst doing a virtual non parkrun 5k I got home with only one lightweight glove. Again, having got warmed up I had stowed the gloves down my shorts (don’t ask!). One escaped.
Yesterday I went out for a walk retracing part of my 5k route and found the glove in the middle of the tow path, well-trodden and ridden into the ground but still perfectly usable. This morning running up into Kingscliff I found my Buff by the side of the track. My conclusion from all this is that either I’m going to find my beanie hat or lose two other items. I’ll keep you posted. Stay Safe and enjoy every day.