44. Immersion Heaters

Managed to pick the only non-rainy hour of yesterday to go running. Did good running. Got muddy and everything! And I was doing what they call military cadences so I must have looked and sounded a right nutter. Got home, stretched, got distracted by wonderful photos of my Mother and little brother from years ago, getting up was impossible, headed for the shower.

Nada.

The world went cold. Suddenly running was a really bad idea and my muscles (such as they are) were all about to freeze up and fall off. Even a squeeze of the pooch didn't help. But I turned on the immersion, picked up my book and curled up. I was about to be late to meet my pals. Anyway, fifteen minutes later, piping hot water.

Joy.

This blog post is about remembering those times when old-fashioned stuff saved the day. Immersion heaters to produce hot water when you're physically tired and achey, candles for power cuts in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere, tomato soup when you've just had a general anaesthetic and want your mummy despite being all grown-up, baked beans after a long and arduous journey, red wine for the long journey through every single day. There are countless others.

Warmed, refreshed, pathetically grateful, I dashed off to Islingtonia and had a lovely evening. So thanks pals, and thanks Immersion Heater!

43. Marathon Runners

I'm sure that when Pheidippides thought 'Ah, sod it, I'll run. The buses are so unreliable...' he can have had no idea that hundreds of thousands of loonies every year would decide to run 26.2 miles for fun. After all, whichever version of the story you read - the guy died at the end.

I know a few people who have run marathons, and one or two who run them regularly. These people all manage to hold down jobs and relationships and for the most part seem relatively normal. And maybe I'm just jealous - my two miles isn't even a warm-up to a marathoner, it's a stroll to the corner shop for a paper. But you know 26.2 miles is a REALLY LONG WAY. I heard that a friend was hoping to run this year's London Marathon in 3:45, and I found myself saying, 'Wow, that's really fast.' And it is, and will be, but we're not talking minutes and seconds here, people, we're talking HOURS and minutes. Three HOURS of running, and a good chance of chafing and bleeding nipples.

There were lots of marathoners in the parks and streets at the weekend (only a month to go!) and a couple I passed were holding a big bottle of power drink in each hand. You're running a vvvveeeerrrrryyyyyyy long way if you need that much hydration.

You can't just decide to run an official Marathon, you have to prove that you can raise a certain amount of sponsorship money. So not only do you have to train your body not to think that running that kind of distance should end in death, you have to focus on sponsorship for your chosen charity. I tell you, these people are AMAZING. When my big brother ran the London marathon a couple of years ago I met him just after the finish. His face was white with encrusted salt. His knees wouldn't bend so he walked along the street like a robot. He was wrapped in silver foil - and he was too knackered to make much sense - but the elation he felt, the pride, the sheer achievement of it was a remarkable and wonderful thing to witness. And he got to eat two Big Macs.

So I say to all those Marathoners - good luck, and well done.

42. 'Frequency'

Frequency is a miserably un-famous film starring Dennis Quaid and Jim Caviezel as a father and son who contrive to speak to each other over a 30 year gap via a Ham radio. It must have been made before his exposure to Hollywood turned Jim Caviezel's religious faith into a crusade. Poor dear.

Anyway, it's not as hokey as it sounds - in fact, it's powerful and rather moving. You don't have to take my word for it. Herself, who does not take kindly to any kind of sentimentality and laughs in the face of bogus emotion - thinks that this is a good film. So there.

There is an element of wish-fulfilment about my enjoyment of this movie, but at its heart it's a decent thriller with the most colossal jeopardy for the lead characters it's possible to imagine. Parts of it still make me jump and Herself watches the last half-hour from behind a cushion. And the end is properly sob-worthy.

Next time you're at the video shop, give it a try.

41. Norwich

I've always had a very soft spot for Norwich - capital of the Eastern Counties. It's got two cathedrals, a castle, a covered market, two malls, a huge glass structure called the Forum which is actually the Library, two theatres, a river and one aunt. It seems to get more than its fair share of sunshine. It's small, but perfectly formed.

Bit like this blog post.

40. Two Miles

A kind person left a Brompton bike here in Aldeburgh, so today Herself accompanied me on a little jog/bike. We left the dog at home because when we took her jog/biking the other day she had to be pulled all the way and then sulked for hours. She likes doing things her way.

It's quiet in Aldeburgh this afternoon thanks to a cold sea mist, so there weren't too many people about to stare at my red face.
I jogged, and Herself cycled alongside, and we went for a couple of miles without really noticing it. Well, she did, because the saddle was uncomfortable so she complained quite a lot, but we chatted away and with her there beside me two miles felt like nothing at all. I don't think that cycling assistants are allowed in the Race for Life, sadly - but it works as a training method.

Two miles - still not far, and definitely not fast - but further than before...



(PS - Congratulations to those what ran the Sport Relief Mile. Hope it went well. Very proud of you.)

39. The ideal Sunday

Papers, coffee, no need to get up. Then we drove to Walberswick. Herself calls it Warbleswick which is an improvement in my book. We walked along the river, across the footbridge, through the fields, across the golf course and into Southwold with our friends, then we pottered in the antique shops and sat on the benches above the beach, in the sun. Yes, the sun. I played with the dog on the sandy beach, in just a t-shirt. (and trousers and shoes.)

Then we walked back again and by the end we were all flagging a little bit, which is when it came in handy that we'd booked a table at the Dolphin for lunch. We sat in the window watching the people, we ate fishnchips, the boys in the back fell asleep in the car home and again on the sofa in the cottage.

Then they had to get in the car to go back to the Big Smoke, which made Herself and I feel a little smug. It was a glorious Sunday, perfect for being much too short.

38. Cheese & Onion Buns

Smith's Bakery in Aldeburgh (also in Southwold) bake their own bread on the premises. Their croissants are very good and the Danish loaves are delicious. But their most famous creations are the Cheese & Onion buns. I think most people would call them rolls but I am a fan of the word bun.

Anyway,

They are the size of a normal chelsea bun, but they are savoury, and topped with grated cheese and bits of onion. Then the oven has sort of melted and set the cheese and onion. But somehow they are still moist and - best of all - chewy. Find yourself a ripe tomato and get some port and hazelnut pate from Richard the butcher and you are quite a long way towards a top-notch beach sandwich. Since Thresher shut there isn't anywhere in Aldeburgh to buy a cold beer (apart from the pubs, obviously) so you might have to make do with a Ribena, and the obligatory packet of Ready Salted Walkers crisps. Take it down to the beach, make a hollow in the shingle for your bottom, sit, eat.