Watching From The Sidelines

Once again I am watching and not taking part.

I've been out of sorts.

Funerals, life changing decisions and problems with my ears have caused me to stop exercising and it's all taken its toll on my poor body.

However, yesterday I watched the Herepath Half. A local race organised by my running club. I was able to walk to the start and finish of this event and did so with my camera.

I have done various parts of this race by myself but never all joined up. I'm not really a trail runner either but the final part of the course is a particularly favourite homeward bound stretch for me and I am contemplating attempting it next year. I will have to do it myself first to be sure I can do it in a sensible time, couldn't bare the thought of making all those lovely volunteers and marshals wait for me!

I positioned myself on the first bend and snapped away at all the proper runners racing past and immediately decided I couldn't do it, I just can't set off at that pace. A field of about 125 runners headed off towards the steady climb to eventually reach the top of Neroche Forest before enjoying the steady decline all the way back to the start. And therein lies another problem, all that up. Love the down, but not the up.

A quick trek back home and I uploaded the pictures and managed a small pile of ironing before returning to see the first runners home. Just over an hour and half after setting off these true athletes were crossing the finishing line. I had decided that I would position myself a short distance from the finish at a very unkind final hurdle for the runners. A stream which at this time of year has to be crossed either through the large bowl in the middle, through the deep squelchy mud to one side or by the little known stepping stone to the other side. Being a kind local I did point out the stepping stone to those hesitant about getting in the water and who can blame them, see I hate mud and water and wet feet. I may have mentioned that once or twice before!

Once the first three gents and ladies were through I headed up the track under the trees to capture fellow Running Forever runners on their final decent. I stood and watched in awe as one by one they came past, most with a smile or a comment, some in pain but still determined to finish and all covered in mud. I stood and chatted with one of the marshals that had completed the course that morning before the race. That's dedication I say.

Anyway, I came away with a renewed vigour. I will get running again. As soon as my perforated ear drum has repaired itself I will be back out there. Back at the beginning maybe but back out on the roads. Maybe I will venture off road and maybe I will dip my toe in the mud. I'm wondering if it's possible to run in wellies...

First lady home Jo Carrit, who expertly managed to not get her feet wet! Well done Jo, great to see you winning.

In Memory of Doris

Doris may have worked for you, cared for you, been your family or your friend, whoever she was to you, you will know that all she ever wanted to do was help.

When our youngest son was not much more than a toddler I asked her if she could look after him for me the following afternoon, as usual she said yes. He was delivered and I went to work. Later that day Steve collected him and brought him home.

We asked him if he had had a nice afternoon, oh yes, he said. What had he been doing with Grandma we asked? We went to a big hall. I had cake. I made the sad old ladies laugh, he replied. This had us somewhat puzzled and Steve rang his Mum to find out where they had been.

I was quite cross, actually I was very cross, to discover Doris had taken him to a funeral tea because she had already agreed to help and she thought it would be OK to take Lewis along. I was cross because I didn’t think it at all appropriate to take a three year old to a complete strangers funeral tea. But I was also cross because she hadn’t said no. No she couldn’t help me as she had already made plans. No it would make her afternoon tricky. She just couldn’t say no. She always wanted to help everybody.

I didn’t understand then that Lewis was perfectly all right at the tea and he had actually helped lift the mood of the ‘sad old ladies.’ But I understand now and Doris’s great granddaughter will be with us later to help brighten the ‘sad old ladies’ and ‘sad old men’ and the rest of us!

Because of the dementia, Doris didn’t quite grasp who Sophia is, but she adored her and was always delighted to see her and always wanted to hold her.

Having spent her whole life caring for others the time came for Doris to be cared for. We did our best, we muddled along. We didn’t know the rules. It was hard and it hurt like mad. We questioned every action, every thought.

Thank you Lavender Court, especially in recent weeks, you pulled out all the stops, your care of Doris was second to none.  I am thankful I was able to help Doris, to repay just some of her kindness. We would dance around her room to Daniel O’Donnel and my last happy memory of her was dancing with her at Rob and Vicki’s wedding, we whirled around and around the dance floor, she had a beaming smile on her face the whole time.

Whether Doris worked for you, cared for you, was your family or your friend; you will know that all she ever wanted to do was help.

 And she did.