Postponed Bradford 10k – DNS – Short Blog Entry


In Which I Do Little Apart From Be Jealous

Today there was the following races being raced:

Manchester Marathon

Manchester Half Marathon

Marathon Of The North

Half Marathon Of The North

Lancaster Three Bridges

Sunderland 10k

Bradford 10k (Which I had entered, and had been postponed from March)

And probably loads of others.

My ankle and leg is still sore from the blackpool marathon three weeks back (blisters gone now, just loads of skin left. Hope you aren’t eating while you read this.) Also, I’m entered into the Leeds 1/2 Marathon two weeks today, so didn’t want to aggravate my soreness before then. (because you get a medal in Leeds)

Rob ran Bradford 10k and managed to edge under 53 minutes with 52:45, and Nigel managed a little over 56 minutes! Also, all day on Twitter I’ve being seeing updates from various people that had run various races and everyone seems to have gotten a PB today!

(Commiserations, however, go out to Martyn who ran Sunderland 10k and got sent the wrong way and so ran 10 miles, and to Steve whose car broke down on the way to his Lancaster race and spent it in a service station instead!)

Swimming

Last Monday I went to my swimming lessons and managed to do two full lengths of the pool. (33 metre pool so thats…. 66m!)

That’s the furthest I’ve ever swum (only started lessons in February) so chuffed with that. Tomorrow I’m going for 100m to make up for not running the 10k today, cheer myself up a bit!

Next race: Leeds 1/2 Marathon on 12th May

Then flying out to Lanzarote on the 16th May to watch Ironman Tony race Lanzarote Ironman on the 18th May!

Blackpool Marathon Race Recap – 7th April 2013


WARNING! CONTAINS PICTURE OF A MASSIVE BLISTER! WARNING!

April 6th – The ‘Day Before Race Day’ Day

I met Rob and his wife Claire in the train station at 12pm to get the train to Blackpool, as we were staying overnight. Sarah had to work early the morning of the run, so she had to stay at home with the cat. I think she was glad really, to get the bed to herself for once.

At about 2pm we arrived in Blackpool (The Paris of the North) and got a taxi to the hotel.

image (12)

We were staying at a place called Hawkes Hotel just off of the south Pier, and a ten minute walk from the start/finish of the marathon which was starting/ending at Blackpool’s Football Stadium.

Rob and Claire were staying for two nights but I was only booked in for one so that I could get home to Sarah after the run. If she had’ve been off, we’d've stayed two nights too but after seeing the room I didn’t really mind just one night.

Technically it was a Double Bedroom, because they’d fit a double bed in the room but left no room for much else. There was a bedside cabinet, a small desk and a single wardrobe with the TV on top, so when laying in bed the colour looked distorted because it was so high up and you watched it from underneath. The wardrobe faced sideways, because the door wouldn’t have been able to be opened if it was facing the room.

The cupboard/bathroom consisted of the toilet and VERY close in front of it, the shower.

photo (3)

 

Handily, the sink was next to the bed.

image (15)

Nevermind though, it was only somewhere to sleep and get changed so it wasn’t a big deal. We’d've struggled with two of us there though, probably would’ve had to take it in turns being in the room.

A while later I met up with Rob and Claire downstairs and we went for a walk around lovely Blackpool.

 

I forgot how horrible it is.

image (14)

Parents shouting at children, children crying because they want to eat/drink/play in the arcades, dogs barking at children, people running the hoopla/throwing games shouting for business, people trying to sell stuff, trying to get you into their club/pub/cafes, mental!

Anyway, we had a couple of non-alcoholic beers and then a McDonalds for tea. (Carb loading with bread and chips) then later I had some chips (carb loading) and then we went to the arcades where I won Sarah a teddy, then I had some more chips (carbs) and watched the sun go down. After that it was time for an early night, but The Mummy was on TV so I went to sleep about 10:30.

image (11)

April 7th – Race Day

I slept quite well, but I think my bed was on a slant because when I rolled over it felt as though I was going to roll off. Almost bashed my head on the sink at one point. My alarm was set for 6:30 but I woke around 6:15 and laid in bed til it beeped at me.

I’d bought some porridge the day before, so put the kettle on to boil while I had a shower. I ate my porridge (carbs) laying on the bed (nowhere else to sit) and watched Cheers. It was the one where they all decide to grow beards.

At half seven I went down to the dining room to meet Rob and Claire for breakfast where I ate a slice of toast (carbs) and had which can only be described as the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted. There were a few oldies sat on the next table who said they were doing the half marathon and all of them looked shocked when me and Rob said we were doing the full. I think they were more shocked at the fact that two people looking like we do were attempting that distance.

After breakfast I went back to my cupboard and sorted out my race stuff. Laid everything out on the bed to make sure I wouldn’t forget anything, then once I was certain I got myself ready and went to meet up with Rob. I left my bag in his room because they were staying for another night and I had to check out.

We walked the ten minutes or so to the start of the race and (after a quick toilet stop) lined up with all the other runners. I saw someone that had a Mad Dog 10k top on and wished I’d worn mine, but decided to go for a Hi-Viz top so I’d be easier to see when I passed out in the gutter.

I drank a Red Bull before we started, and had a bottle of Mountain Dew energy drink to carry around the route. Also, I had an energy bar for half way and had a bag of Jelly Babies in my pocket.

It was due to start at 9:30 but we didn’t get underway until about 9:45, my stomach getting more and more knotted with each passing minute. A countdown started, then we were moving. A minute later I was passing the start mat of my first ever marathon!

A few days before I’d printed out a split-time list to stick on my wrist. I can’t remember the website, but you put in your distance and time you are hoping to finish, then it prints out a thin watch-width strip of paper with each mile split printed on it. I’d sellotaped one of these to my wrist that morning. My plan for the marathon was as follows:

Scenario 1. – Finish.

Scenario 2. – Finish in under 5 hours.

Scenario 3. – Finish in under 4 1/2 hours.

I’d printed the split times for a 4:30 finish, with the thinking that if it starts to go wrong then I might be able to squeeze a sub 5 hour time.

The run was very crowded at the start so we took it a bit easy, we both had headphones in but had the music on low so conversations could still be heard. I started the stop watch on my watch as we crossed the line too.

My original plan was to try and run between each water station, then walk through them all, as they were spaced roughly every 5k. (I’d drawn a red line on my split times to mark each water station.) I told Rob that I’d keep pace with him til the first station then let him jog on.

image (10)

We’d gone from the Football Stadium in a straight line to the Promanade then turned left towards the Pleasure Beach (which is a theme park) and then around 2 1/2 miles we turned back towards the centre of Blackpool and would stay on the straight until around 8 1/2 miles.

At the first station we wished each other luck as I slowed to a walk to have a drink and he carried on ahead. My legs already hurt, so I altered my plan slightly. Instead of running to each water station, I decided to run to each mile marker and check my progress with my watch and split times. When I got to mile 4 I was pleased to see I was roughly two minutes ahead of schedule, so decided that at each mile marker I’d walk until I was a minute in front of the split times. This worked brilliantly for a while, felt strong as I was running and it helped mentally that I could work out where my next break was coming.

At every marker I was walking for at least a minute, sometimes two, as I waited for the time to catch up to the split times. Also at every mile marker I was having something to drink (because I was carrying a bottle with me) and eating a Jelly Baby (for energy, they work really well!)

I passed Blackpool tower for the first time that day and then we ran on the sea front. The sun started to come out and I was – against everything that I thought I’d be doing – enjoying myself. The miles ticked by and before I knew it I’d gone passed the 6 mile marker and saw Rob coming back in the other direction up on the hill. We shouted and waved to each other and it spurred me onwards, then twenty minutes or so later I was at the turn around making my way back towards the start/halfway point of the race.

Another water station was passed, and I really needed the toilet. As it turns out, there are no portaloos on the route. Unless you have 20p for the public toilets (I didn’t) the only places I could see to goto the toilet were either in a Pub/Cafe on the opposite side of the road, or behind a wall. I chose the wall. I have no idea how the women in the race managed with the (lack of) toilet situation.

Still feeling good I passed the Tower for the second time which meant I had run around 20k and was approaching the Half Marathon. The thing about Blackpool Marathon, however, is that it’s not just the Marathon, they also have a Half Marathon option. We were doing two laps of the route, and the halfers were obviously doing one. I didn’t realise how utterly gut wrenching it would be to see them following the sign for Half Marathon Finish while I ran passed it following the Marathon sign, knowing I had to do another lap.

My Half Marathon time was around 2:07, and this was now official the furthest distance I had ever covered in a run.

My body thought the same.

At around mile 14, it all fell apart. My legs stopped working properly, my stomach started to churn, I got a headache, my motivation went. It was horrible. I knew that this could happen though, because when ever people talk about a marathon they talk about hitting the Wall, and I was now worried about hitting the Floor.

I had a few Jelly Babies to perk me up and decided to eat my power bar when I got to the next mile marker. As I approached the Pleasure Beach and the first turn around for the second time that day, I saw Rob coming in the opposite direction.

“WE’D BE IN THE PUB NOW IF WE’D DONE THE HALF MARATHON YOU BASTARD!” I shouted at him.

He laughed, I laughed, runners around us laughed. Me and Rob slapped each others hands and it was a nice boost when I was feeling quite down.

I was doing a mixture of running and walking, but mainly walking. When I reached mile 15 I ate my power bar and was surprised to realise that I was still on target with my split times. I knew that 4:30 finish wasn’t possible though because I didn’t have the energy to run the second half as quick as the first so set my sights on sub 5 hour.

I was doing my best to run as much as I could before having to walk but I bet I wasn’t running for a full minute before walking. At around 18 miles (after passing the Tower for the 3rd time) I noticed I kept getting passed by a very tattooed bloke who didn’t seem to be going that fast, but also I didn’t see him stop for a walk. He was doing more of a shuffle than a run, so I gave that a go and it worked better than trying to run did!

I still couldn’t run for long, but I was running for longer than before.

Eventually I reached the last turn around point and it was such a relief to be aiming for home. I was still keeping an eye on my watch but could feel the sub 5 hour slipping away. I gave myself a mental bitch-slap and knew I needed a system to keep going instead of stopping when my legs stopped working properly, so I started counting.

Everytime my right foot hit (shuffled on) the floor, I counted it as one step. I decided to run 100 of these steps, then walk 50, then run 100 and walk 50. Time passed, and so did the mile markers. 20 went by, then 21, then 22.

When I got to 23 I told myself there was only 5k left to go before it was over.

My stop watch read that I was on 4hours 20mins at 23miles. When I got to 24miles it read 4hours 33mins.

I knew then that I could get just under 5hours if I kept at this pace of 13 minutes a mile. Then a little voice in my head said ‘No, you’ll get to 26 miles in just under 5hours, but the Marathon doesn’t stop at 26. It stops at 26.2 miles.’

Bollocks.

I did my best to ignore my legs and the pain, and the blisters and the pain, and the headache and the pain, but I was still shuffling at 100 steps followed by 50 walking. I upped to running to 110 steps and knocked the walking down to 40 steps. I passed the Tower for the last time.

What felt like ages passed and I reached the turning that the Half Marathoners had taken a few hours before. Down a side street, then turned left. The Football Stadium and the Finish was at the end of the road. People were cheering on the street. I got into the stadium car park and was directed around to the side. I saw Rob waiting at the side of the stadium entrance. “Almost there!” He shouted.

I turned into the stadium and saw the last 100 metres, saw the official clock above the finish line. I really wanted to sprint but couldn’t get my legs to want to sprint.

As I crossed the line, the commentator announced “Well done Marc, just nicely under five hours there!”

My gun time was 4:57, but my official chip time was 4:55.

Could’ve taken my time after all.

Afterwards

I got this:

image (9)

 

But I also got this:

image (13)

I knew I was going to be sore after the run but had no idea how much. It hurt to walk, to sit, to stand, to go up stairs, to get in the shower, to get out of the shower, to get dressed, to go down stairs. It’s now three days after the run and I’m still having trouble with stairs. I think it’s all worth it though, and I treated myself to The Hobbit on blu-ray which I watched Monday night, and we also had Chinese food. I did my best to stay awake for Wrestlemania on the night of the run (It’s on at Midnight in England) but only managed an hour or so. Caught up with it now though.

28th April I’m running the postponed Bradford 10k (if my legs work).

12th May – Leeds Half Marathon.

In October I’m already signed up to the Yorkshire Marathon in York, and am going to train properly for that one.

Before the Blackpool Marathon the furthest I’ve run, including training, was 13.1 miles which I ran once.

The second longest I’d ever run, including training, was 6.2 miles.

But as I only started this running business 10 months ago, I think I’m doing quite well to be able to get round 26.2 miles.

Rob finished in a time of 4:44.

Thanks to everyone for the nice messages of support!

Two Days Until Blackpool Marathon


In Which I’m Right Nervous!

So, in 43 hours time (if you’re reading this on Friday 5th April at 13:30, otherwise it’s less) the gun will go off, and I’ll go off, off on my first ever marathon.

Blackpool (the Paris of the north) is having it’s marathon on the same day as Paris (the Blackpool of the south) has their marathon. Don’t know how many are running Paris, but in Blackpool there’s around 900 of us. (A blogger I follow and that follows me is running Paris, his blog is here: http://parcequewhynot.wordpress.com/ Good luck!)

People keep asking if I’m ready, and I keep saying No. I’m sure most people think that before their first marathon though, especially if they haven’t trained enough. (like me.) Whatever happens though, I’m determined to get around in one piece. I started my carb loading last night (heap of pasta and bread) and have carried it on today (Turkey sandwich for breakfast, chicken sandwich at 11, flapjack just now, turkey for dinner, etc etc) and still have tonight and all day tomorrow to carry on carbing.

There’s a tower in Blackpool (Paris has nothing on them!) which we pass at around about the 10k point, then again at 20k, then at 30k and the last time at 40k, and as the run is pretty much flat the whole way in an out and back set-up, we should be able to see the tower the whole time. (Until we pass it, obviously. Unless we run backwards. Which I won’t.) I figure this’ll make it better for first timers like me, because there’s pretty much always a landmark to aim for.

I’m meeting Rob and his wife Claire in Bradford train station at 12 tomorrow morning, from whence we make our way to Blackpool to stay over night, quite near the start/end of the run. Followed by beer.

I’ve made a checklist of everything I might need (and more) so thats a load of my mind. I’m currently working out a playlist for the marathon, which has plenty of rock music to keep me motivated. My plan at the minute is run to each water station then walk through having some water. They’re spaced every 5k (just about) so again, a good marker to aim at.

After the run I’m off home to have a take away with Sarah and Indy, and then I’m settling in for the night to watch Wrestlemania 29. Should be a good end to (hopefully) a great weekend!

(All your best wishes towards me and Rob are welcomed!)

Where have you BEEN?!


In Which I Finally Update My Blog! Huzzah!

Hello! Nice to see you again! It’s been too long. Not even sure the last time I did a proper blog post, so sorry if it’s upset you that there hasn’t been one to read. Hope you didn’t get TOO depressed.

So what have you been up to? Really? Ah, I see. With a duck?! Right…

I’ve only done one 10k race since last time, it was the Keighley 10k run on March 10th. I have had a birthday though, and so now I’m in the 31 – 40 age group (as I turned 31.) What else… I did a 17 mile bike ride the day before Keighley (not advised) and last week rode a PB distance of 24 miles! Swimming is going well, I can now manage 2 lengths.

Anyway! Back to Keighley!

Keighley 10k Recap, Or ‘What I Learned’

Things I know for next year:

1. If it’s cold when you leave the house, it’ll be cold when waiting for the race to start. Snowing, even. Don’t think to yourself ‘I’ll warm up on the run’ because you might have frozen your bits off before the run has even begun.

2. Keep your eye on the startline, because sometimes the start isn’t properly announced. Sometimes they just set off running, even while the warm up is still going. You turn around and notice that the race has started, but aren’t ready.

3. Don’t try and keep pace with an Ironman.

4. Read the entry page FULLY before committing to a run. You know you can finish a 10k run, and you know you’re fine on the roads, but if you miss the bit on the entry where it says MULTI TERRAIN you’ll probably get a shock. Especially if there’s A LOT of mud, and you’re wearing your WHITE running shoes. (Now a shade of brown.)

5. Study the route. (Then you might realise before race day that it’s MULTI TERRAIN) you also might realise that the course takes in a LOT of hills, plus a lot of alleyways and narrow passages that you might not be ready to tackle.

6. There’s no shame in moving to one side if the other choice is running through a thin path on a muddy field for about a kilometre. Just make sure your shoes are fastened properly, so you don’t almost lose one in the mud.

7. Keep your eye out for the marker signs. If the last one you saw was 5K, and you’ve run for another 15 mins or so, then don’t think to yourself how rubbish you’re running, instead think that you might’ve missed a marker.

8. If you’re addicted to times and PB’s and stuff, use your own tracker app or watch or something, don’t rely on timing chips because sometimes they have a problem and none of them record anyones time, so you have to go on gun time. If you use your own tracker app or watch or something, DON’T FORGET TO STOP IT AFTER YOU FINISH.

9. If you find yourself struggling on the run, talk to someone. Doesn’t matter who they are, if you’re a similar pace, talk. I talked to a nice woman for the last kilometre or so because my legs were killing me from the bike ride the day before, and before I knew it I was over the line.

10. For the race organisers: If you design a T-Shirt for a run, or for any event, give thought to which letters you highlight…

photo (2)

I don’t think anyone was expecting a T-Shirt with K K K on the front in what can honestly be described as ‘Blood Red.’

My next run was supposed to be this Sunday, 24th March but due to snowy weather, it’s been postponed. It looks like my next official run will be the Blackpool Marathon on April 7th! EEK!

 

Too cheap for Jameela

Reblogged from How to fundraise without pissing people off.:

Click to visit the original post
  • Click to visit the original post

Greg James has skinny dipped his skinny ass into crocodile infested water, a florescent pink –clad Rosemary Shrager has been dramatically aerial lifted (is that the right expression?) by a group of strapping young males (brilliant), and The Saturdays have space-hopped across Westminster bridge.

It can only mean one thing. Comic Relief is upon us once more.

The nation’s “funniest fundraiser” – which climaxes in its usual all night TV extravaganza of bizarre TV, pop, radio, and sports star cameo routines, blended with a flicker of the general public (GP), and soaked in a large batch of heart-wrenching documentary films on March 15 - has chuckles ebbing across the land early this year.

Read more… 1,796 more words

Not A Post About Running – Writing!


Hello! Not really done much worthy of bloggage this week, done a bit of running and a bit of swimming and some biking, but don’t want to bore everyone by being boring…!

I’m running the Keighley 10k on Sunday 10th March so will be doing a race re-cap sometime soon after that.

Until then, if you want to read it, here’s the first chapter of a novel I’m working on.

doorwallcover

The Door In The Wall – Chapter One

When Billy’s parents told him that they were moving house, he lied and told them that he didn’t mind. He’d heard his mum and dad talking on a few occasions about money troubles and how they needed to move further from town, somewhere smaller. Billy wasn’t a spoilt kid and so didn’t cause a fuss when he was told they had to go.

The next few weeks were busy for the family, what with having to pack things up and sort out the new house. It was quite run down, his dad had told him one day, and so they’d be fixing it up as the months went on.

“So long as we have a roof over our heads, and have each other, what else do we need?”

Billy thought about how he needed a garden to play in, but didn’t mention it.

Moving day arrived and it brought with it a large moving truck, along with two big guys to carry their furniture. They didn’t say much, though one of them winked at Billy when they came inside to see what was to go, and both said ‘Yes’ when bacon sandwiches were offered. Beds, sofas and the dining furniture was soon loaded, along with dozens of boxes with each one marked for what ever room it was for.

His mother had one last check to make sure everything that needed to go was on the van, and then they locked the door and said goodbye to the house. It was a bit sad, thought Billy, but he had decided to start looking forward to his new home and his new bedroom which his father had said he can decorate in whatever colour he likes.

When they arrived at the house, everything was done in reverse. They said hello to their new home, then his mother unlocked the door and went round each room making sure nothing had been left by the previous owners. While she checked, the men from the van started to unload all of their things and were directed to whatever room they needed to be in.

By early evening the van, and the men, had gone. Billy sat in his new room unpacking boxes of books and toys, and put them on his shelves that had come from the old home. The walls were bare, with bits of paint coming away here and there, but his dad had told him that he could put up posters and drawings until they had the time to paint it properly.

When all his stuff had been put away and his bed had been made, Billy told his parents that he loved the new house and then said good night. He didn’t want them to know that he wished he was still in his old bedroom, where the paint on the walls wasn’t peeling away.

Through the night Billy woke up and panic took him as he needed a few seconds to remember where he was. He always slept with the curtains open and the moonlight came through onto the walls and the floor. He watched the shadows from the tree in the garden dancing on his floor, and then he noticed it.

At first he thought it was a shadow playing a trick on his eyes, but getting out of bed he got a better look. There was a door handle in the middle of the wall which he hadn’t noticed earlier. ‘How odd,’ he thought. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t see this’. He tried the handle, but it wouldn’t move. ‘Anyway’, he thought, ‘if it opened I’d end up opening the whole wall!’

Deciding to ask his dad to have a look in the morning, he got back into bed and, before long, slept again.

The handle was gone in the morning.

Billy saw as soon as he woke that it had gone. ‘I’m sure I didn’t dream it’, he thought. He was quite a logical child though, and soon convinced himself that it was imagination. He then forgot all about it for the rest of the day, and most of the following night, until a sound made him wake again in the early hours. The door handle was back in the centre of the wall, but this time there was a vertical cut in the peeling paint to the left of it, which came from the floor to about the height of Billy’s knees.

He knelt down near the thin crack and touched it gently. Billy thought that he felt a slight breeze come through, but couldn’t be positive. He got back into bed, and made sure to tell his father the next day.

“A door handle? In the wall? Are you sure?” His dad asked.

“Yes.” Billy said. “Only at night though, it’s gone by morning.”

“How odd!”

“That’s what I said.”

“But it’s gone now?”

“Yes, it’s just there at night. Not before I go to sleep, and not after I wake up in the morning, only when I wake up through the night.”

“Huh.” Said his dad. “I’ll tell you what, next time, come wake me up. I don’t mind what hour, if it’s there I want to see it.” His dad then smiled at Billy, and no more was said on the matter.

That night Billy had trouble sleeping. He kept opening his eyes and looking at the wall, waiting for the handle to appear, but it wouldn’t. At about one in the morning he finally slept, but was woken a short time later by a noise. The handle was back again, and the cut to the left of it now reached to Billy’s waist.

He went into his parents bedroom to wake his dad. It didn’t take long, but it took a few minutes for his father to realise what was going on, though eventually he remembered the days conversation and followed Billy to his room.

His father looked at the wall, then looked at Billy, and back again to the wall.

“There’s nothing there.” His dad said.

“There was a few minutes ago! You took too long!”

“Billy,” his father began, “it’s a new house, to us at least, and you need sometime to settle in. To adjust. In a day or two you’ll be fine, sleeping through the night and without these dreams.”

“It’s not a dream!” Billy said. “There was a handle!”

“Shush Billy, time to get back into bed and go back to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He left the room, and Billy got back into bed. There was no point arguing, because Billy’s evidence had vanished back into the wall so it’d do him no good.

The next night was similar to the last. He awoke, saw the handle, saw that the cut was now as tall as Billy himself, and so went to wake his father. They came back, the wall was bare. His father told him that he was not allowed to wake him anymore for dreams about handles, and then went back to bed.

The following night, Billy noticed that the cut had now got to about six foot upwards and had changed direction; starting to go horizontally across the wall. He realised that it was starting to resemble the outline of a door, with the handle right in the centre. A few nights later he confirmed this with himself when the line had reached about six foot upwards, then two foot across the wall, and was now going back down the other side.

He began to get a little scared.

Every time he brought up the subject with his father, he was told the same thing. that he needed time to settle in, that his dreams would stop, and that he wasn’t allowed to wake his dad in the night.

A few more night went by, the cut in the wall getting closer to the floor each time, until Billy woke one more suddenly than any other night. He’d heard a bang but couldn’t place where it had come from. He looked at the handle, and at the outline of the door, because it was indeed now a full outline of a door, and went to get his dad. His dad told him, when he finally woke up, that he wasn’t coming to look at a blank wall again and that if it’s there now, it’ll be gone when Billy goes back to his bedroom because it’s always gone. With this, he turned his back and went to sleep.

‘Yeah, it’ll be gone.’ Billy thought to himself. He went into his bedroom and looked at the wall. The handle, and the outline of the door, were still there. He stood in front of the wall and looked it up and down. There was a slight tap-tap-tap sound which was getting gradually louder, as though someone was walking up the stairs. He looked out of his room, but the stairs were empty of life. Besides, the staircase was carpeted and this sounded more like footsteps on stone.

Back again into his bedroom, back again to staring at the outline. Back again to hearing the tap-tap-tap of footsteps. Slightly louder this time, and then louder still. It was as though… No. Wait, getting louder again. It’s as though someones coming towards the door, he thought, but from the other side!

Slightly louder and louder they became, each tap louder than the last.

Louder… Louder… LOUDER…LOUDER!

Then, nothing. Silence.

Until:

Knock-Knock-Knock.

Someone knocking from the other side of the door.

Someone knocking on a door that shouldn’t be there.

Knock-Knock-KNOCK!

Billy stepped slowly towards the door. He lifted his arm towards it, then rested his hand on the handle. He knew that it couldn’t be turned, however, so wasn’t overly worried just yet.

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK

‘There couldn’t be anyone there, because it’s just a dream.’ Billy thought. ‘Besides, the handle’s stuck.’ Taking a deep breath, he put some pressure on the handle, which was enough to turn it until it clicked. The door frame cracked away from the wall as Billy took a step backwards, then it stopped where it was. Seconds passed before the door started to open more, opening, Billy realised, because it’s being pushed open from the other side!

He closed his eyes tight, but could hear something coming through the doorway. He almost screamed, but didn’t get the chance.

The next morning Billy’s father came into his bedroom to wake him up for school. He noticed that Billy’s bed was unmade, and that there was what looked like a blood stain on the floor near the wall.

There was no door though.

There certainly wasn’t a handle.

There was no Billy either.

Chapter Two (And Three!) Are available online to read:

http://www.wattpad.com/story/4341818-the-door-in-the-wall

Thanks!

View From The Trail (Well, canal. And a road.)


In Which I Go For A Ride, And Someone’s Had Their Last Ride (As In, Dead.)

Last Monday it was a rest day from running so I went out for a bike ride instead. I planned my route out and figured it’d take about an hour, in the late afternoon. I mapped the route so that I’d go along and down the main road for a bit, before venturing off on the canal path for a few miles before attempting (and failing to conquer) a MASSIVE hill near home, before having a steady mile of flat roads and then home.

I planned it like this, a big circle around where I live, so that I could cut it short at anytime if I got right tired, or crashed or got bit by a walrus or anything. Be prepared and all that.

A little while after setting off I was on the canal path, and thinking to myself how nice it was that I’m seeing all this nature and getting exercise, which I wouldn’t even of considered a few months ago. I saw a Heron/Stork/Bird thing, which flew off before I got a picture. (I’m not bad at naming birds; Crow, Magpie, Penguin and such, and can also name Dog breeds: German Shepherd, Labrador, Pug, but when it’s Cats it’s pretty much just: Cat, Cat, Cat…)

Anyway, there were a few birds flapping about and probably a few fish swimming about, when I saw this in the canal:

Whoops!

Whoops!

I’m not an expert, but I don’t think that’s how you drive one of these…

After taking a picture and getting back on my bike, I followed the path around the route, passing plenty of joggers and cyclists coming the other way which made me worry that I was on a One Way canal path and I was going the wrong way, with all the proper-way people tutting as I passed. Soon enough I passed another bloke on a bike though, heading in the same direction, so I used him as a pacer for a bit (mainly so I could blame him when the canal police told us off.)

I came to where I come off the canal path and took this picture of the evening:

image (7)

Not even instagrammed! (well, OK, it is. Not the colours though!)

I walked my bike up through the woods and got onto the main road, where I then cycled towards Shipley. Halfway down the road I was passed a couple of ‘proper’ looking cyclists who both said Hello to me. (I replied with **PANT**COUGH**HI!**PANT**WHEEZE**) They both passed me easily enough but as the road started to go slightly downhill I decided to try keep pace. I managed it quite well too!

Getting to where I was about to turn off, we approached some temporary traffic lights and they both went towards the front of the traffic (as the lights were on red.) I followed. Reaching the lights, THEY BOTH JUST CARRIED ON THROUGH THE RED LIGHT! I was so shocked THAT I ALSO WENT THROUGH THE RED LIGHT! Luckily no one saw. I turned left at the next (green) set of traffic lights and tried to go up Carr Hill. It’s a beast. Seriously, cars struggle to get up it. I managed a few metres before I got off and pushed my bike, which was hard enough by itself! I (slowly) got to the top, got back on my bike, and peddled the steady mile or so home. All in all, I managed just over 10 1/2 miles in just over an hour.

Tuesday, myself and Sarah were both off work and it was quite a sunny day (not warm though) so we decided to go up to a place called Yeadon Tarn where theres a boating lake and… ducks and stuff. A lap of the Tarn is just under a mile. We walked halfway round, then got an ice cream. (Sunny = Ice Cream. Even if the weather is freezing. It was cold enough to have to buy a Hot Chocolate at the same time, but Sunny = Ice Cream.) We walked one lap, and then decided to walk it again, but without another Ice Cream.

image (8)

Half way round our second lap, Sarah said that she could see a box floating in the lake near the edge, so we had a nosey when we went passed. Turns out that it was one of those boxes THAT CONTAINS SOMEONES ASHES AFTER THEY’VE BEEN CREMATED! The date on it was 2011. Now, I don’t know if they’ve been floating there for two years or not, but surely one of the boating people would’ve gotten them out by now? Otherwise, someones been to the Tarn recently with the box of ashes and accidentally dropped them in the water THEN JUST LEFT THEM THERE. I have no idea.

How I Think It Happened

“I’ve always wanted to be buried at sea.”

“Really? Bit far, the sea side. How about that Tarn Lake thing?”

“That Tarn… Yeah, I suppose that’ll do. I’d have to be cremated I guess, to go in there.”

“I’m not touching your ashes.”

“…What?”

“I’m not touching your ashes. I’ll get em everywhere!”

“Just open the box and tip me in.”

“Could do I suppose. What if it’s windy?”

“Do it when it’s not.”

“It’s always windy this time of year.”

“Do it in the bloody summer!”

“Yeah, could do…”

The bloke dies in 2011. Eventually, the day comes. 2013. It’s been windy for two years, but she’s glad she’s waited for this day. The first sunny day of the year, though it’s cold. Sunny days mean Ice Cream however, so that’s the plan for afterwards. Probably a flake too. Reaching the waters edge she sheds a tear as she prepares to open the box. A slight breeze tickles the back of her neck.

“Sod this!” She says, and lobs the whole box in.

The End

Speaking of made up stuff, I wrote a short story and put it on that WattPad website. If you fancy a read, it’s here (opens new window):

‘Super Hero For Sale.”

(A shorter short story, would be a better name.)

Any comments are welcome!