31st December. The Bells Aaarrrggghhh! The Bells!

Well you can count me out for trawling round to the neighbours, those days have passed because now we're all little islands here and no one really speaks much for the rest of the year so why make all that pretense for one day in twelve months I ask you? And then you even have to kiss people at "The bells" oh yuk the average age in these parts is even older than me. -12 too, very bright moonlight cause its a full moon ideal for running at night according to Fat Boy that is apart from the ice, not that he's got time for that or anything else now that he's moved onto that new endurance sport - Relationship.  I wouldn't be surprised if he's signed up for Procreation Edinburgh 2010 - now that's an Ultra-Marathon and a half.  New Year's Day Triathlon tomorrow to "look forward to" what could be worse than  running out of a swimming pool in subzero temperatures to pedal off round the city streets of Edinbourg? I'll tell you what's worse - its those loonies in Broughty Ferry who go for a swim in the harbour and no wet suits allowed! Vetsuit verboten! And what does 2010 hold in store? I hate to think because you know I'm moving into that age bracket, perhaps you are too? when illness can, if you're not very careful, become the main topic of conversation. The Daily Ailment.  

21st December. Failure To Run 50 Miles In A Blizzard.

Following The Fat Boy/Otter's failure in The Great Glen 5-0, having to give up at 35 miles instead of the full 50, he was keen to set matters right by running 50 miles mainly in darkness due to the fact that the 21st was the shortest day. I suggested it would be quite Christmasy to start at the top of the Drummochter Pass due to the elevation and recent snowfalls.

Arrived and departed the iced up Asda car park at 1 am, "I'm afraid it'll have to be the Land Rover" said The Otter. The Otter's brother had volunteered to be at the wheel of the LR and made no attempt to conceal his opinion about the venture. Naturally the Snow increased markedly beyond Blair Atholl as we began to climb. One wiper was a bit lacksadaisical in its approach then around 2.30am whilst nearing the ludicrous dropping off point at Drummochter summit 50 miles up the A9 there was a slight bang followed by a cessation of all wiping action. Due to the now blizzard conditions snow quickly rendered the windscreen opaque. It looked increasingly that asking Alistair to drive all the way back to Perth into the infrequent but invisible oncoming traffic was a favour too far. A handy roadside fir tree provided a stick to attach a cloth to for wiping through the open window, although I offered to lie on the roof rack and manually clean from above. A few minutes later the interior began to smell strongly of something electrical in its death throws, "Are the wipers still switched on?" I enquired. "Yes" . "Looks like you're in the market for a wiper motor then as well as the linkage" . Things improved with the forcing of the arthritic drivers side wiper blade into movement and the attachment of bungee cords, the wiper could now be operated by the two passengers alternately pulling left and right through the now both open windows. The smell of diesel fumes mingled with the melted armature plus a background of burnt or hot oil. " This is absolutely brilliant" commented The Otter on the vastly improved wiper action "Pull"  "Pull" etc etc just showing how relative everything is. "I don't know why land drover dont fit this as standard" I said. There was a question mark about the heater's efficiency. with the continual querying as to "JEEZUZ CHRIST! Are you sure the heater's on?"