Jogging 1

 

Jogging

 

I had my first jog shortly after I got married.  Since then it has never ceased to amaze me that when I pass people I feel like the invisible man.  I may smile and nod, but most people just ignore the poor jogger.

 

We lived in rented accommodation in Edinburgh for several months after we moved back from England, then we moved temporarily into my sister Isabel’s flat also in Edinburgh before moving to East Calder. When I used to go out jogging in Linlithgow and Warwick, I managed only about one to one and a half miles, and I hated it.  I persevered believing I was building up my stamina.  After we moved temporarily into my Sister Isabel’s flat my brother-in-law Gordon (married to Pat’s younger sister) who trained in Karate too, went out for a jog with me.  You have to understand Gordon could run whilst the best I could manage was slightly faster than a smart walk so it was difficult for him having to slow down for me.  It was nighttime when we went out and off we set.  We were talking as we were jogging which was unusual for me being used to going out on my own and being really tired after my usual one to one and a half miler.  I lost track of the time and could feel myself getting quite tired. When we got back I felt the colour draining out of my face with the effort and much to my surprise we had been out for over an hour.  Next day I followed the route in my car and much to my surprise discovered we had done over 6 miles.  I realised then how much the mind responds to what we do in a positive or negative way and how effective positive distraction can be.

 

When I lived in Warwick, Gordon had moved from the karate club we had both trained in, and he went to train with Jimmy Pace who I had only once before met briefly at a joint training session in Leith, Edinburgh. The reason I mention this under jogging is that Gordon trained at the club every session that was available and in these days, they used to train on a Saturday, finishing off with a jog for those who were interested.  The first time Gordon went out on the jog he took his bus fare with him just in case he couldn’t manage back such was Jimmy’s fitness and stamina.  When I moved back to Scotland, I too started training with Jimmy who was a superb Instructor and a genuinely nice person.  I made the mistake of meeting him and Gordon for a jog one summer when the club was closed for the holidays.  The first time was at Newhaven Park in Leith, there was Gordon and I who were both wearing running shoes and then there was Jimmy.  In the comics I used to read as a boy there was a man called Alf Tupper who if memory serves me correctly  was a brilliant “working class” sportsman who had absolutely no airs and graces about him, happy to tuck into fish and chips out of a newspaper, he wore boots, baggy shorts and whatever he had when he trained.  So here was Jimmy wearing a big pair of boots and baggy shorts, he didn’t care what he wore, his heart and mind were in whatever he was doing, the ultimate test to push himself as hard as he could.  He to me was just like Alf Tupper.  We set off on our jog, Gordon was as I mentioned a good runner, he just danced about whilst old puffer me got going.  Jimmy jogged beside me, and I thought maybe I wasn’t as bad as I thought until Jimmy just opened up his stride and left me as if I was just standing still.  Of course, they didn’t abandon me much as I am sure they wished that they could.  I went out with both of them again (fool that I was), this time we went around Arthur’s seat.  Arthur’s Seat is a park beside Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh, it is a beautiful Park which has a steep road and paths.  Off we set heading up the steep road and I have to tell you it was for me very hard work.  We got to the top of the hill where the road levels out and eventually starts to go down hill.  I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief knowing the end was in “sight” and I could manage without disgracing myself. Of course, this was as it turned out purely wishful thinking on my part.  We were reaching the part of the jog where the road started to decline and all I had to do was relax and let the decline do the work when Jimmy pointed out a path on our left which much to my chagrin headed up! I had read about joggers and runners hitting the ‘wall’. This is where they come to a psychological wall where they feel they cannot go any further and I felt that, it was a horrible feeling and I had to wave to Gordon and Jimmy to tell them to continue as I slowed to a fast walk.  I soon managed to start again but it was a most unpleasant feeling.

Cars

 This is a Google image of a Morris 1100, my first car.

 

Cars

 

When I was a child hardly anyone seemed to have a car.  Of course, that changed over the years, and I resolved that I would get a car when I could.   I saved and bought a car when I was 18, a Morris 1100 through a man at my dad’s work at the BMC (British Motor Corporation later to be British Leyland).  I was ecstatic, only one problem I didn’t have my full driving licence, enter my friend Davie who did but didn’t have a car.  What a partnership, as well as proper lessons with a driving instructor, Davie sat beside me as the experienced driver in his spare time, and we were always out at the weekends going to different places.  It was a change from the West Calder Polly which used to be the regular Saturday night dancing haunt for the locals. My sisters including my older sister Moira were not allowed to go for quite some time after I was, my Father, God bless him, got his ‘blessings’ from them.  Davie and I went to, Edinburgh, Kirkcaldy, Dunfermline, Seahouses (north England), Darlington, Sunderland (and stayed with my Aunt Isabel who had moved to near Darlington from Dunoon by then). My first car, an old Morris 1100, caused my first and only run in with the Police. I had car trouble one Saturday in the winter, it just wouldn’t start so I called my Mechanic, Willie who with his friend got the car started.  My friend Davie and I went to the Raith Ballroom in Kirkcaldy.  When it came time to go home the car wouldn’t start, we tried everything, I wasn’t in the AA or RAC and it was very late, seriously cold and freezing.  Neither of our parents drove or had a phone so we used our intelligence and went to a police station to ask for help.  They just were not interested, so here were Davie and I freezing, very little funds and nowhere to go for help.  Davie suggested borrowing a car battery to jump start the car.  That is how we ended up spending the night in the cells in Kirkcaldy, we had to remove our shoes and belts, this was after questioning of course.  Next morning, we made bail, my Uncle Kenny who did drive and had a car brought my Mum and Dad over to get us.   We got the offending car started, got halfway across the Forth Road Bridge when it broke down again.  We eventually got home when my Mum gave me a right roasting.  Although I heard afterwards that during the night when I was in the Police cell my parents got a knock at the door from the local police to tell them what had happened, my mother wouldn’t believe them and was in danger of losing her temper with the police.  I felt duty bound to tell my boss in the office I worked in what had happened, I had pictures of me getting the sack, ending up in jail.  Fortunately, my boss knew me and was very supportive.  Davie and I went to court on our own without a Lawyer and got a small fine which was a very small amount to pay for the lesson it taught us.

 

The most problematic car I ever had was an old petrol Mercedes.  Another mechanic friend of mine said that old Mercedes were great reliable cars.  He found one for me which I bought and when I was driving it home a bit fell of it, the warning bells should have been sounding then. There always seemed to be problems with it, not always mechanical, I seemed to have more than my fair share of flat tyres too, however in the main it was okay.  We were going on holiday to visit my sister Helen in Bristol for our Summer holidays and enroute I had to call in at Stockport, Manchester to see a client.  The timing of the appointment meant we had to leave at 4.30 in the morning.  There was my wife and two of my sons, Alastair, Colin and me. Christopher, my oldest son who is a piper was away with his Band. We set off in the Mercedes which I had serviced prior to the journey.  We were leaving East Calder and heading down across country to Carlisle.  As we were heading towards Carnwath, the solitary car in front threw up a stone and chipped my windscreen, a little later a horde of rabbits literally flooded the road in my path then a bird fell out of the sky and bounced of my windscreen.  I didn’t realise at the time that this was the fun part of the journey.  We got to Stockport in good time, I did my appointment, and we then had a nice lunch before heading back to the M6 Motorway.  We were moving slowly along the slip road heading onto the motorway and into heavy traffic, as I was looking over my right shoulder, the slow-moving lorry on the motorway let me know I had a flat tyre.  I managed to pull into the hard shoulder, Pat, my wife and Alastair got out of the car, Colin stayed in the car.  We got all the luggage out of the car, got it jacked up and just as I was about to remove the wheel Alastair got back in the car which then proceeded to roll of the jack!  Eventually we got going again and we finally got on the M5 motorway on the final stretch of our journey, and I felt by now that I had been travelling forever.  The sun was starting to sink below the horizon, and it was a beautiful view as we headed towards Bristol.  Suddenly there was an almighty bang and smoke started billowing from the engine at which time I gently manoeuvred into the hard shoulder thinking what next?  I sat there stunned (after switching the engine off).  No mobile phone in those days, I looked at Pat shook my head and got out the car to go and find an AA roadside phone box, glad that at least had very comprehensive cover with them.  As I was walking along the hard shoulder, I spotted a bit metal on the motorway, and I was sure it was from my car. I checked to make sure the road was clear then I gingerly went to lift it up, I then realised too late that it was extremely hot and burnt my hand.  The AA turned up in due course and towed me off the motorway, it transpired the engine was a write off with no clear reason why.  The car was towed back to Scotland, and I got a car for two days as part of my cover with the AA.  I then hired a car when it was time to head home.