Rockin' and Rollin'

Glad to see I’m not the only one who is taking it easy on the old blogging front. Apart from the usual suspects who are prolific to say the least. The rest of us mere mortals are taking a much more relaxed approach.

I topped off my crazy week by heading back down to London to see the BWB boxing show at the Clapham Grand on Wednesday. Excellent night; great entertainment value and some fantastic skill and heart shown by all the boys.

Funny how the first time I went along I was given a VIP pass and my very own bodyguard (a certain former Para who is familiar with the WHW) and encouraged to enjoy some drinks at the bar. This time I’m given a ‘staff’ pass and set to work. There are worse jobs I guess; looking after some sweaty firemen who has just done battle in the squared ring and need a little TLC, aw bless. I’m the girl for the job ;)

The biggest problem for me was the weather. Lovely here on the Wednesday morning. Torrential rain and gale force winds in London on arrival. Not the most comfortable of landings I have to admit. Same on the way home. Woke up in the morning to see the trees bent to a 90 degree angle in the wind. Have to admit I wasn’t looking forward to the flight home.

This bit is a bit mushy; avert your eyes if you’re squeamish.
The old ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ nonsense, is just that. A load of old tosh.
Distance is a pain in the arse. Cheap flights aint that cheap and ‘it’s just an hour’s' flight’ is crapola.

Decided on a quiet weekend at home with the kids. Two days of long lies in my scratcher and not much else to write home about.
An online karaoke with Captain Jack Sparra saw some crackin tunes murdered to death. The only saving grace was securing two tickets to see the Pogues in Sheffield in December. That's the way I roll ;)

Join in the karaoke-

Busy Busy Busy

The problem with blogging is this….

….when you’ve got time to blog it’s usually because you’ve got nothing better to do with your time and therefore have nothing to talk about. On the flip side when you’ve got summit to say you’re way to busy to commit time to putting pen to paper, or in this case fingers to keyboard.

Well it’s been almost a month since I blogged last, I guess that must mean I’ve been busy. And you’d be right ;)

I’m sitting here during my lunch half hour and I’m gonna type like a demented half wit to bring you up-to-date on the true life soap opera featuring Mrs Mac #2

After supporting Ian with his 24hr attempt I felt a bit inspired to do a bit of running. I managed to get out on the Clyde Walk Way on wet n wild Sunday afternoon. The route had been recommended by my Bro who is a secret underground type runner, lurks in the forums and all that.

Any way route is tops, defo recommend it to anyone who can access it. A newly completed walk way covering 40 miles from Clydebank to New Lanark. I picked the day that clocks went back and woops should really have started a little bit earlier. Running through the woods, on my own in the dark got the adrenalin going.









Back to back training nights with club has seen my mojo return with gusto.
Bit of a strange one that. I have been out of the training loop for a bit coz I didn’t feel that I was fit enough to full participate, but it was the support and encouragement from my club mates and a bit of a bollocking from Mrs Wilson that did the trick.

Then it was our Run With the Wind 10km at the beginning with the month. Loads of final dotting of I’s and crossing of T’s took up quite a bit of time. That and hanging round the house waiting for a massive milk lorry to deliver the goods.

Race day was also wet n wild. A great event none the less. Some fantastic feedback from everyone. Well done to all family members involved. Special mentions to you know who for running while suffering from a chest infection which incapacitated him so much he refused a pint (!). Also DQ who has decided that maybe he WILL “get out of bed for a 10k” after all cos marshalling is hard work. The WHW Runner for cracking his sub 40 goal and last but certainly not least our very own Princess for completing her first 10k, ably assisted by the nicest man in the world.

Next a bit of socialising. A night out in the Counting House to say cheerio to Neal Pacepusher. I had been out with my mate during the day and to say I was a little giddy by the time we met the WHW family was an understatement. My mate Scanners is the kinda girl you can take anywhere. Great social skills. Kinda freaky though that she knew someone in the company. WTF she’s a fitballer, no a runner. Got to bed at 4.30am. Hardcore ;)
Awwwwww, Airborne Toxic Event with the Pirate and the Royal Couple and RJSR & her hubby. Stupendous, incredible, fantastic, amazing; words don’t do them justice. Simply divine.





This is where the wheels fell off.
I was hoping to join the Race Princess for her Diet coke WHW training run. Quite looking forward to it in fact. One we problem. I had convinced myself it was a Sunday run. Uh oh missed it by a day, but my car had been acting up and it was gonna be expensive right? Not so, a wee reset on the computer thingumijig and I’m good to go. After the wean went to her Dads I was at a loose end. I thought about doing the run on Sunday on my own, but I really didn’t want to be Nigeled.

So can someone tell me at what point deciding on the spur of the moment driving 400 miles south of the border to surprise the Pirate was a sensible idea?
At 4pm on a Saturday afternoon, when I could have gone for a quite glass of wine, I chucked all my gear in to the now tickety boo motor and started driving.
By the time I reached Carlisle I still wasn’t convinced I was going to ACTUALLY drive the whole way, by Lancaster or Preston though I decided that it was as far to turn back than to carry on and the deed was done.

I arrived in London in 6 and a bit hours after I left Strathaven. I had been blethering to the Pirate on the way down, giving him duff information about visits to Asda and to see some friends but when I called to say I was there he called me a numptie. Now I will not be drawn on that, coz there has been quite enough discussion about numpties on the forum and blogs. To say he was surprised is an understatement. Spent as long driving round the city centre as the whole rest of the journey down to some duff info from a rather squiffy Pirate.
Do you know there are two Horseferry Roads in London? Well there IS; something the Pirate neglected to tell me.
Diddy!
Anyway, a night in a single bed in a place I really shouldn’t have been and watching the march on the Cenotaph was excellent. Well worth the mammoth expedition.

Witnessing serving soldiers who at first glance looked like cadets, followed by former soldier of advancing years interspersed by the very young children of fathers recently lost was very emotional.
Hearing the bag pipes did the job and the tears came. I was very proud of my Pirate.

So that’s it. A months round up. I’m off back down to London for the BWB Boxing on Wednesday night. A whistle stop tour and I’m flying this time.

Time to get the running shoes back on ;) mmmmmm I think I need a new pair.

Mrs Mac x

The Tale of an Old Speckled Hen

Phew…….
What a weekend!
This weekend The Pirate and I had the pleasure of supporting the WHW Runner on his 24hr Race at Tooting Bec in London.

I somehow rendered my self support by default. My bairns and I have been in London since last Friday, having taken over the Pirates gaff for our October holidays. A whirlwind week of touristy type activities and loads of together time topped off by staying up all night, outside, in the freezing cold of SW17.

We collected the WHW Runner from the airport unscathed. Having completed the 40 minute journey in merely 20!! Our Subversive Fireman sure knows how to operate the gas pedal and just as well the 1.25l bad boy goes like shit off a shovel.
Return to Chez Waterman at a more leisurely pace to feed and water our precious visitor.

Mrs Beattie had had enlightened me into the …… of WHW Runner. She advised that "The night before the race he may be tempted to have 'just one' toast to old friends. He is incapable of 'just one' so abstinence is the best approach. I'm sure his old friend would understand."
So me and you-know-who had his share, hic.
We had a rummage through his gear and had a chat about he style of encouragement he preferred. Transpires he’s a softly softly type character. Thankfully he didn’t have Corned Beef in his corner as "get a move on you soft cock blouse” widney have gone down too well!
You-know-who missed this important team meeting as the boxing was on the telly ;-)

Have some decent kip, although I have had my fair share of it during the week. Quite a few long lies for me. You can bank sleep, right? Then up bright and breezy. Pirate boy has promised WHW Runner some scrambled eggs for brekkie. But he is nowhere to be seen. I locate him upstairs on the computer blogging in his pants…… if only Ian had seen him. Good job he didn’t. The start of Subversive Supporting me thinks.

Our runner is psyched up, primed like a coiled spring. The Pirate has his head in the glory hole of a cupboard under the stairs looking for his tent! An essential piece of kit for our duties. Poor Ian was like a cat on a hot tin roof. He must have wondered why oh why he had accepted this offer of help.

Finally make it out the door and hit the road only 10 minutes behind schedule. Arrive at the track with loads of time to spare though. WHW Runner registers, and we set up camp. It becomes evident that we really should have prepared a little more. While all those around us set up their comfy tents, reclining camp chairs, gazebos, tables etc we make do with a bench nicked from the other end of the track, a 20 year old unwashed doss bag an a table still at Southwark fire training establishment. Welcome to the world of Subversive Support.

And they’re off.
Despite the pedigree of some of the other runners, we were (apparently) the only support crew counting laps. We had been advised to do this by Fiona Rennie. This is a bloody stressful exercise. You really cant take your eye off the ball. Ian had a posties red lacky band round his finger and each lap he clocked he moved it down a finger. This allowed us to take a split every 5 laps.
Factor in my nosiness in getting to know the other supporters and whoops, did we miss him?? My wee lassie came into her own, keeping a wee eye out for our man.
The Pirate was in his element blogging and taking pictures of puke.

I’ll not go into the technicalities of track running. Basically its 4 hours one way, change and 4 hours back the way you came.
The time passed incredibly quickly. Although it was extremely cold. A factor that would scupper a few runners later in the night.

Brian McIntosh and his wee smasher Eilidh came along to offer support. It was great to finally meet them. That wean shows some promise on the track and she’s not event two!

Our man planned to drink every 20 mins, eat every 2 hours and change socks every 6 hours.
It was pretty hard to keep track of how closely he was keeping to the plan coz the feed table was a third of the track away from us and they had lots of tempting goodies on offer.

Main meals were provided, however the MacWatermans opted for a fish supper. Aw man, it was superb. The waft of salt n vinegar must have tormented the runners. Not as much as the BBQ one of the teams enjoyed ?!?
Did I mention a wee glass of wine? Well, yes, we had a small refreshment. Just for medicinal purposes you understand. Internal central heating was required, and red wine is an excellent choice. I had a nice bottle of ale on offer for our runner should he fancy a wee snifter. He told me once of a race where they offer you a half of whisky before hitting a particularly steep hill. So there was method in my madness. Sadly the contents remained in the bottle for the duration.

WHW Runner knocked out the laps and although off his gold medal goal he seemed content to crack on. Words of wisdom and encouragement from WHW family members perked him up no end. But it was occasional blethers with Mrs B which had the biggest impact. It takes just one sentence from someone who knows you better than you know yourself to give you that wee lift. In that respect the Pirate and I were rendered useless.

10.30pm. The wine kicked in and the Pirate took to his bed. I’m a night time person so the weans and I were happy to be on duty ’til 2am.
It was right at this point that our man announced that he wanted his feet tended too in 4 laps time. The Pirate could not be roused, oh shit. I think I bluffed it as our man changed his mind.
He was beginning to struggle a bit. Fatigue, cold and a tendency to puke anything and everything he took onboard. This caused a bit of a frenzy as Hannah and I jogged back and fore across the track to keep an eye on his welfare. A discussion as to whether we should ring Mrs B, pros’, con’s, should we wake the Pirate….. Aucht, the pressure!! Had a word with Alan Young, who offered our man the benefit of his wisdom. Adrian chipped in when the puking was at it’s worst. He was gonna chuck it!!! No way. I couldn’t let Mrs B trust me with her man and then I go and fail her and him. What to do??? Mrs B saves the day and lifts his spirits again. He plans to run 3 and walk 1 and this plan works for a time. He begins to pink up again and looks and sounds much better.

But he’s sneaky. Some time later he announces “that’s it I’m doing 250 laps then I’m done”
I told him it was his call. I had cajoled, encouraged and ever so slightly bullied to the point where I could see he had made his decision, and he was happy with it.

I was gutted for him. But I could see that he was done. The decision me made was logical. 250 laps, 100km in 12:28:22 was some achievement.
I woke the Pirate and broke the news. His words to me, “I go for a wee sleep and look what happens” go figure.

It was a perishing cold night. The cloud cover we had all day had cleared to reveal a star studded sky. Far too cold to walk and not waste precious energy just keeping warm. To do this for another 11 hours would be crazy, and possibly medically dangerous.
One young fella was suffering really badly from dehydration and affects of the cold. He had a support crew on hand and still succumbed. I know there were a number of runners participating without support as all food etc is provided. And while I know that Adrian and his team kept a very close eye on all runners I’m glad we were there for our man.

Supporting on a track event looks on the surface like a walk in the park. Well it AINT!! Its bloody hard work. Dave said himself that he would have struggled if he was on his own with Ian.
But Team Beattie gave it their all.
Well done Ian. You made the right decision at the right time. We are very proud of Our Man.

Ps. And what of t he bottle of Old Speckled Hen?
Packed as hand luggage, the attendant at Heathrow offered the WHW Runner 3 options.

1, Recover his hold luggage and store for later.
2, Hand it over for them to dispose (aye right)
3, Drink it…

So she shows him where to sit, and appears with a cup and a bottle opener. Result.
All’s well that ends well.

Mrs Mac x

Time for a Plan

Wow, I didn't mean to leave it so long since my last post.

I have been running quite well lately and while not eventful would have definitely deserved a mention.

However, I was involved in an incident that I cant go into at the moment, that has kind of taken over my thoughts on what sort of society we live in. A society where a a woman; in obvious distress as a result of the action of another is left to fend for herself while they (society) busy themselves with texting their mate, reading the paper or other such mundane tasks. Anything to avoid involving themselves in the situation unfolding before them.

I have been in London since Friday night. It's not been the most relaxing October break as other domestic issues have contributed to my current state of fuckedupness.

Children are having a ball though. Yesterday we spent the day at the Science museum.....and still didn't manage to see it all. FREE entry is always a draw to a canny Scot, but this place is awesome. I even heard my Lanky 15 1/2 year old laughing, and I saw him smile on more than one occasion. I have photographic evidence but that'll need to wait 'til I find the wire for my camera, doh!

My focus now lies solely on Ian Beatties epic adventure at the weekend. The Pirate and I intend to support our socks off and Ian will reach his gold medal goal of 500 laps (200km) I have been formulating spreadsheets like it's going out of fashion, with a little help from Fiona Rennie & Pauline Walker. One thing I diddn't consider was the amount of miles WE'LL cover!!!

Ian arrives tomorrow evening. the Waterman household; already full to bursting will flex at the seams. I can assure any worried reader (Ally) that Mr Beattie will have a bed to himself and not be made to top n tail with any of the weans!!
We are assured of a mystery guest for the day; a man of much education, who I have yet to meet. It's gonna be one helluva 24hrs. Keep an eye on Ian's 24hr blog for updates. We, the Luddites will attempt to keep you posted.

Mrs Mac x

Off Road, On Road ???

I’ve been sticking to Tomo's prescription and by Jove I think it’s starting to pay dividends. To be honest I’ve forgotten the prescribed formula I’m supposed to follow but I’m managing to get out the door four times a week. I know that i'm supposed to do one ‘long’ run of up to 10 miles. Yeh yeh I know….. piece of piss.
Well not for me, I aint no natural runner. Stick a pair of white jim jams on me and wrap a black belt around my waist and I’ll have ye. But running, pah that’s hard work man!

Saturday saw me and the Pirate lollop round Horton Country Park. We were a bit short of time coz we were meeting the Downies in London Town for luncheon. I reckoned though that I had four or five in me. Eek not so. I think I may have eaten something too rich and spent the whole run bursting for the loo. The Pirate informs me it was only three. Bugger! It was faster than normal, so I guess that was good.

Tuesday short of time again. Weans home alone. Half an hour of running up and down the hills at Strathaven’s War memorial. Some guy and his dug kept me company. Well, he blethered on the phone while the wide mouthed slabber chopped mut chased me up and down the steps.

Last night I fancied something a little longer. The Glassford Loop. Home to Sawney Bean and the like. It’s not a place to stop too long. As it’s getting dark early again I took a chance coz I got home early from work.
I headed up passed the ROAD CLOSED sign. Well, I running, not driving it’ll be fine. Uh oh, slight mistake. Bloody road workers ACTUALLY working on the road and after 5pm too!! WTF. The road was all chopped up, I ran for about a mile on scallpings. That horrible unstable stuff they use to resurface the road.

Oi hen, keep to the right. They’ve sprayed the ither side.

Christ almighty it was strange. Like running off road, ON the road. Then a good bit. A brand spanking new section of fresh laid tar macadam. Virgin road. And I was the first EVER person to run on it. That gave me a wee buzz.

So no country park running for me this weekend :-(
I’m meeting up with my mate during the day Saturday and planning a long run wi ma Maw on Sunday. Although, as I type the wind is howling down the chimney and it’s lashing with rain. Winter has arrived in Sunny Strathaven. Give me Ashtead any day.

The Lanky boy son of mine still has a want to join the Army. I am still ‘supporting’ him but tried to get him to watch the Wounded documentary that was on TV the other night. He missed it but I watched both episodes back to back. All credit to the two young lads featured, as the injuries they sustained where utterly horrendous. The Pirate lives very close to Headley Court where the lads received their rehabilitation. He commented on seeing a young fella being wheeled round the town by his girlfriend in his chair. The boy, not more than 20 had lost both arms and legs.
Do the Army accept boys who wear glasses?

Mrs Mac x

I Don't *Do* Cows

My crazy Maw has decided that *we* need a goal. Something to work towards, bit of a challenge and all that. After her last bright idea that saw us yomping down the WHW the wrong way and costing us a bloody fortune in fundraising I have to admit I was a little nervous. So while she muses over what torture filled event she’ll sign us up for we decided on a wee trot out today.

It was such a gorgeous day. One for brunch in the garden, leafing through the Sunday papers and a lazy day of chatter with a loved one. As mine is at work 400 miles away running on the River Ayr it is. My Bro was gonna join us but the poor lamb is ‘on the nightshift’.

We planned to access RAW from a farm to the East of Sorn. Dino and I noticed it last week as we rallied up and down the road. We parked the car and got kitted up. No packed lunch, just bananas, jelly babies and Maximuscle diluted correctly.
There was a half-mile walk to reach the route so we headed off through the farm.
We reached a kissing gate with a sign that announced ‘Bull in Field’ now I don’t *DO* cows but we carried on regardless. We’ll be fine, just follow the track and then we’ll be on the way.
Uh oh!,not so. We found our selves knee deep in cow shit having a staring contest with one massive lump of beef.
I asked; do you think we can get form this gate to that one before he can get to us?
I don’t care, lets get the flock out of here came the reply. Seems that Maw doesn’t do cows either.
All the while the farmer is scooting round the field on his quad. I bet he was pissin himself laughing at the nick of two burds dressed in luminous running gear bricking it over a few coos.

We finally got underway and had a very pleasant 13.5-mile jolly on the route and finished up in Mauchline. I managed to convince my Bro that while he IS a hero and a lifesaver (that’s what he tells his kids, he’s a paramedic really) he would be my hero if he’d pick us up. I’ve got this thing about running back the way you came. It was right about now our Maw announced that WE were entering a relay and he was one of the four and that the 3rd leg had his name written all over it. Control freak my Maw? I wonder where I get it from :-)

Tiaraidh an dràsda

Mrs Mac x

Cairn Table

Should really be going to bed. I have a new race to marshall tomorrow.
Strathaven Striders are having their first club Hill Run the morra.
Bill Ion has done a grand job at producing maps and setting out a number of routes to choose from. Hopefully the weather will stay kind and make for a good day. Cairn Table here I come.
Short notice but click here for more info.

I'll need to wait till Sunday to set my longish outing squared away.
Back to Ayrshire for the 7th time in 9 days!!!.... whats that all about?
Plan to run out from Sorn for a bit. I'll try and not take the detour that the Pirate took last week ;-)

It dawned on me a few weeks ago that I hangout with some crazy people that do crazy things. I have a mate though who got on my case big style when I started running reckoned I should stick to Karate as running is bad for the knees?!? Anyway, I think there is scope for him to cross over into the darkside yet. He took a challenge to compete in a white collar boxing event a couple of years ago having never boxed in his life. Looks like running aint so bad after all.



TTFN
Mrs Mac x