Wherein one gatecrashes a marathon and rubs with the celebs....
So...the leaves are turning gold and yellow and jade, the mornings are crisp and your boiler decides to die properly....it must be autumn in Scotland!
I must admit I'm quite fond of Autumn, even if it does mean the noticeable quickening of days getting shorter and shorter, and cold grey weather for 6 months. ah well. I'm quite fond of Autumn in Scotland too. As G says, the light is liquid and you find yourself staring at a field full of hay bales for a good hour, watching the light pour itself around soft shapes and darting birds, before being distracted by say, traffic (oh yeah! i'm driving home:) or someone asking you a work question.
So the other saturday morning was a cracker autumnal dundee day: windy, sunny, grey, windy, sunny, grey etc etc. I had an overwhelming desire to inhale great lungfuls of sea air while I still could in the morning, without my breath freezing and being unable to feel my face.
'that's it! I'm away to broughty ferry for a docile jog along the waterfront for a bit'. I announced to G. Parked the car at the usual place, and start a very unchallenging paced jog along the waterfront, watching the herons and oystercatchers and other great gangly birds feeding etc.
soon enough I notice skinny blokes with numbers attached to their front singlets and running shorts shoot past me in a blur of hot pink and blue. 'must be a local comp on today' I muse as I begin to break into a sweat. Then onto the castle, where Stewards wearing hi-vis jackets are standing around and look at me very strangely as I approach. Nothing new there, me thinks, peeps usually look at me strangely when I attempt to run/jog.
The no's of runners flying past me begin to increase as I get onto the beach promenade proper, so I take a quick look behind me before launching off to complete the beach circuit. A rather large fluro yellow "14 MILES" sign is posted on the pole behind me. A little 'click' is audibly heard from between my ears, as I instantly remember a conversation with Amy and radio station conversations about the Dundee marathon being this weekend. of course! Now it's impossible at this point for me not to get any redder in the face, so when I find a space in the dunes from the road, I dash into it and run back to the castle onto the beach. bloody hard work but a respite nonetheless. However, I must get back to the car, and the beach runs out before this. So I find myself back at the 14 mile mark and join the throng of runners. Thank goodness there is no way I could be mistaken for a competitor in my baggy shorts and daggy shirt and cap. I do get the odd clap of encouragement on the way back to the car, which is quite nice from the norm really.....
Today me and G head to 'teuchter territory' up in Perthshire, for a wander and a late lunch at this great pub that I always pass on my travels at work and have always wanted to stop off at.
Great choice. It's another great Autumn day (see above for staring at the same field for half an hour, except this time it's a river). A good Pub for live folk sessions and as we eat our very appeasable lunch someone cracks open the guitar case and plays a few tunes. Then as we're finishing off, Dylan Moran wanders through the door (well, staggers), ruffling his hair and orders food and drink before wandering out to smoke in the very agreeable beer garden on the banks of the Tay river. Now there's not much unusual about that, me thinks, I knew he was touring and was disappointed he was sold out otherwise I woulda gone, but bugger me if he doesn't look like the spitting image of G's mate, just with longer hair. So both G and me resist the temptation very narrowly to say 'Oi! Jamesey! why didn't you tell us you were coming here!'
more later on commercial wave farms and the raging debate of the 'size does matter' on waves between Britain and Portugal.
I must admit I'm quite fond of Autumn, even if it does mean the noticeable quickening of days getting shorter and shorter, and cold grey weather for 6 months. ah well. I'm quite fond of Autumn in Scotland too. As G says, the light is liquid and you find yourself staring at a field full of hay bales for a good hour, watching the light pour itself around soft shapes and darting birds, before being distracted by say, traffic (oh yeah! i'm driving home:) or someone asking you a work question.
So the other saturday morning was a cracker autumnal dundee day: windy, sunny, grey, windy, sunny, grey etc etc. I had an overwhelming desire to inhale great lungfuls of sea air while I still could in the morning, without my breath freezing and being unable to feel my face.
'that's it! I'm away to broughty ferry for a docile jog along the waterfront for a bit'. I announced to G. Parked the car at the usual place, and start a very unchallenging paced jog along the waterfront, watching the herons and oystercatchers and other great gangly birds feeding etc.
soon enough I notice skinny blokes with numbers attached to their front singlets and running shorts shoot past me in a blur of hot pink and blue. 'must be a local comp on today' I muse as I begin to break into a sweat. Then onto the castle, where Stewards wearing hi-vis jackets are standing around and look at me very strangely as I approach. Nothing new there, me thinks, peeps usually look at me strangely when I attempt to run/jog.
The no's of runners flying past me begin to increase as I get onto the beach promenade proper, so I take a quick look behind me before launching off to complete the beach circuit. A rather large fluro yellow "14 MILES" sign is posted on the pole behind me. A little 'click' is audibly heard from between my ears, as I instantly remember a conversation with Amy and radio station conversations about the Dundee marathon being this weekend. of course! Now it's impossible at this point for me not to get any redder in the face, so when I find a space in the dunes from the road, I dash into it and run back to the castle onto the beach. bloody hard work but a respite nonetheless. However, I must get back to the car, and the beach runs out before this. So I find myself back at the 14 mile mark and join the throng of runners. Thank goodness there is no way I could be mistaken for a competitor in my baggy shorts and daggy shirt and cap. I do get the odd clap of encouragement on the way back to the car, which is quite nice from the norm really.....
Today me and G head to 'teuchter territory' up in Perthshire, for a wander and a late lunch at this great pub that I always pass on my travels at work and have always wanted to stop off at.
Great choice. It's another great Autumn day (see above for staring at the same field for half an hour, except this time it's a river). A good Pub for live folk sessions and as we eat our very appeasable lunch someone cracks open the guitar case and plays a few tunes. Then as we're finishing off, Dylan Moran wanders through the door (well, staggers), ruffling his hair and orders food and drink before wandering out to smoke in the very agreeable beer garden on the banks of the Tay river. Now there's not much unusual about that, me thinks, I knew he was touring and was disappointed he was sold out otherwise I woulda gone, but bugger me if he doesn't look like the spitting image of G's mate, just with longer hair. So both G and me resist the temptation very narrowly to say 'Oi! Jamesey! why didn't you tell us you were coming here!'
more later on commercial wave farms and the raging debate of the 'size does matter' on waves between Britain and Portugal.
posted by Rosa at 6:22 pm
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