Training Day

The Great TODO is getting closer, or The Offas Dyke Ordeal to give it its full title, so as its a walk of 178 miles in less than 7 days training for such an event is paramount. I have for a while now been religiously sticking to a training schedule that involves sitting on easy chairs eating pies and drinking beers but felt that perhaps this was not the preparation needed for such an event, particularly as I am some 12 to 15 years older than my companions who seem to be half my weight and running marathons before breakfast as a warm up to some serious fitness sessions.

My problem is, apart from the fact I like pies and beer is that I remember a time when I ran marathons, climbed frozen waterfalls and still had the energy to run to the gym and show everyone how to run a circuit training session, so training sessions where I get out of breath putting on my trainers are a real downer. But I have to start somewhere and must still be reasonably fit under all the flab. So on a day where one of the team was skipping up Sca Fell and another was mountain biking down the north face of the Eiger I put in an equally gruelling training day. Having a smallholding also impacts on the time available to devote to getting into shape to cope with the 178 miles planned, so a way of combining the two, training and smallholding, has to be found. After a core workout on arms and shoulders, carrying buckets of feed to various hungry beasts I worked on my biceps and triceps by preparing most of the hens for a long stay in Mr Whirlpool the freezer. Once my arms were warmed up, a few stretches and I set about the main task of the day, returning the stables into suitable accommodation for the Boys who have very kindly forgone their five star accommodation for a muddy windswept hillside as their purpose built home was used as a goat maternity ward, a sheep maternity ward, a chicken house, a kennel and various other temporary uses. All of which added to the layer of mess on the concrete and rubber mat floor.

It was quite a daunting task, one man, his garden fork, a wheelbarrow and two 12 by 12 foot stables covered in poohy bedding to a depth of eight inches. Nothing for it, the world expects a man to buckle down and shovel it, so I did, and in no time the building was cleared of excrement, jeyed out and allowed to dry. I reckon I moved 43 full wheelbarrows along the lane to the pooh store, and just cos I'm hard did it all with a flat tyre on the barrow. I did fantasise about a quad bike and a trailer by barrow 27, by 33 I was going to train Rocky to pull the green cart to finish the job, but with Tracey's help the job was done by lunchtime and by early evening the Boys were back in their proper place, munching clean hay out of the racks and making models of Kilimanjaro out of fresh pooh. My legs feel like I walked 30 miles, my arms are burning from the effort, but good news that I can move so much weight around considering how bad my left arm was damaged, and good that I didn't have to go to the Lake District to help prepare for the Great TODO.

Its extraordinary how satisfying it is getting a job like this done, and with each sip of my beer the happier about it I feel, especially as my pie is almost cooked. Well, its hard to be totally commited to this healthy living lark!