(no subject)
Jul. 16th, 2006 10:00 amOut at the beach at nine yesterday morning to run in Father Ted's Sport Relief Mile. I'm proud to say I jogged the whole way and never once stopped for a walk! Got a stitch in my side just past the halfway mark. I saw a building we were approaching and thought it was the Inshore Rescue base - the finish line - so accelerated for 50 metres coming up to it, only to see people carrying on running past it when I got there. A sign said it was the Stokes Bay Sailing Club. The Inshore Rescue was another 200m away. Ouch. But, though drained from my premature finishing kick, I never stopped, jogging on with leaden feet. Then when the real finish hove into view, I still had enough in the tank to unleash another power drive for home.
Sat on a little stone pillar recuperating and watching the others finish, clapping them all over the line, then when everyone had finished a lady got us all to line up for a photo.
Hawks v Kingstonian friendly in the afternoon. Quite a few had come down from Kingston, though obviously we had nowhere near as big a crowd as for Bournemouth. On the bright side, that meant a lot less of a queue at the tea hut :) Excellent burger and chips, washed down perfectly with an ice cold cola. It wasn't a classic game, but HAVANT WON 2-1 thanks to a thunderbolt free kick from 25 yards by Brett Poate.
In the evening my mother and I were invited to present the awards for the local sailing club's regatta. We were still chatting to the Commodore, having just met him, when I felt a hand on my shoulder and a familiar voice said hello. It was Ann. It turns out Steve is a member at the club - and had actually raced in the regatta that day, though without distinction - and they come there a lot to drink as they have a lot of friends there.
The Commodore asked if we wanted anything to eat. We said we were OK as we'd both had something earlier, but he still virtually begged us to have their in-house King Prawn curry ("not at all hot"). We said maybe later, then presented the prizes. One guy who'd won a couple of awards was Dave, an old mate of mine from school, so he hung around for a quick chinwag when I presented him with his certificate; I got hugged and kissed by a beautiful buxom lady when I hung a silver medal over her neck; and the Commodore initially read Steve out as a second prize winner, which had Steve and Ann shaking their heads in disbelief, then the Commodore said he'd made a mistake and read someone else's name.
After the prize presentation, the Rear Commodore showed us to a couple of seats at (hooray) Ann and Steve's table, then the Commodore absolutely insisted that we eat. The curry wasn't King Prawn, it was chicken, and it was a bit hot, but not at all bad, though I felt stuffed to the gunnels by the time I'd finished. Meanwhile we had to shift about in our seats to make room for a couple of people. A band set up at the front, and Ann groaned : someone called 'Soggy' was about to sing. Ann told us 'he can't sing at all.'
Before long, to make room for yet more club bigwigs, Ann and Steve upped sticks to a table in the corner. When I'd finished my rum and coke I went over to join them. I pulled a vacant stool over to their table, but Steve offered me his seat and went to join some of his friends. Ann introduced me to Steve's mum Brenda and her boyfriend. Soggy 'sang' some pop standards - Brenda started to sing along and snap her fingers; Ann told her firmly to stop, then when she noticed I'd begun to do the same, pointed at me and said "Don't encourage her!"
Ann and I spent the rest of the evening drinking (in my case, rum and coke, which she generously got refilled with rum regularly for me), catching up, telling Brenda about my travels this year and sharing observations on the World Cup. Ann, like me, had no sympathy for Rooney ('Wanker' as she habitually refers to him) and was gutted that France lost the final. When I mentioned that Zizou had been stupid she said she'd been unable to even talk about that incident for two days after. She had little time for the Italian team, who she said were slightly more sophisticated cheats and divers than Portugal; she'd been delighted with Germany's dusting of the Portuguese in the third place play-off, though at times she'd got so frustrated with Schweinsteiger that she'd called him Shitesteiger.
We'd heard Scott, an old school friend I hadn't seen for 19 years, mentioned; Ann said he'd been in her class at Junior school, so I told her he'd been in my O level Science group at secondary. She got him to come over and we had a good chinwag; at that point, my mother appeared and handed me a pint of lager. Where I'd been on the rum and cokes all evening, I never mix drinks if I can help it; Scott was drinking lager, so I told him 'have a pint on me' and handed him the pint, to his bewilderment.
Then there was a fancy dress contest, which my mother had to judge, including one guy who was wearing what appeared to be a Christmas tree, and a raffle. To draw the first winning ticket, the Rear Commodore, who was compering, asked "Who's the prettiest girl in the room?" I yelled "Ann!" and Ann joined in yelling "Me! Me!" (as were a lot of the women) but the Rear Commodore chose a little lass. I won a prize, near the end so there was only a handful of prizes for me to choose from. Seeing three loose cans of Stella on the table, I asked whether each can was a separate prize, but the lady said no, take all three.
A top night, all the better for my meeting with Ann being totally unexpected.
Still got groin and thigh ache this morning from the mile.
Sat on a little stone pillar recuperating and watching the others finish, clapping them all over the line, then when everyone had finished a lady got us all to line up for a photo.
Hawks v Kingstonian friendly in the afternoon. Quite a few had come down from Kingston, though obviously we had nowhere near as big a crowd as for Bournemouth. On the bright side, that meant a lot less of a queue at the tea hut :) Excellent burger and chips, washed down perfectly with an ice cold cola. It wasn't a classic game, but HAVANT WON 2-1 thanks to a thunderbolt free kick from 25 yards by Brett Poate.
In the evening my mother and I were invited to present the awards for the local sailing club's regatta. We were still chatting to the Commodore, having just met him, when I felt a hand on my shoulder and a familiar voice said hello. It was Ann. It turns out Steve is a member at the club - and had actually raced in the regatta that day, though without distinction - and they come there a lot to drink as they have a lot of friends there.
The Commodore asked if we wanted anything to eat. We said we were OK as we'd both had something earlier, but he still virtually begged us to have their in-house King Prawn curry ("not at all hot"). We said maybe later, then presented the prizes. One guy who'd won a couple of awards was Dave, an old mate of mine from school, so he hung around for a quick chinwag when I presented him with his certificate; I got hugged and kissed by a beautiful buxom lady when I hung a silver medal over her neck; and the Commodore initially read Steve out as a second prize winner, which had Steve and Ann shaking their heads in disbelief, then the Commodore said he'd made a mistake and read someone else's name.
After the prize presentation, the Rear Commodore showed us to a couple of seats at (hooray) Ann and Steve's table, then the Commodore absolutely insisted that we eat. The curry wasn't King Prawn, it was chicken, and it was a bit hot, but not at all bad, though I felt stuffed to the gunnels by the time I'd finished. Meanwhile we had to shift about in our seats to make room for a couple of people. A band set up at the front, and Ann groaned : someone called 'Soggy' was about to sing. Ann told us 'he can't sing at all.'
Before long, to make room for yet more club bigwigs, Ann and Steve upped sticks to a table in the corner. When I'd finished my rum and coke I went over to join them. I pulled a vacant stool over to their table, but Steve offered me his seat and went to join some of his friends. Ann introduced me to Steve's mum Brenda and her boyfriend. Soggy 'sang' some pop standards - Brenda started to sing along and snap her fingers; Ann told her firmly to stop, then when she noticed I'd begun to do the same, pointed at me and said "Don't encourage her!"
Ann and I spent the rest of the evening drinking (in my case, rum and coke, which she generously got refilled with rum regularly for me), catching up, telling Brenda about my travels this year and sharing observations on the World Cup. Ann, like me, had no sympathy for Rooney ('Wanker' as she habitually refers to him) and was gutted that France lost the final. When I mentioned that Zizou had been stupid she said she'd been unable to even talk about that incident for two days after. She had little time for the Italian team, who she said were slightly more sophisticated cheats and divers than Portugal; she'd been delighted with Germany's dusting of the Portuguese in the third place play-off, though at times she'd got so frustrated with Schweinsteiger that she'd called him Shitesteiger.
We'd heard Scott, an old school friend I hadn't seen for 19 years, mentioned; Ann said he'd been in her class at Junior school, so I told her he'd been in my O level Science group at secondary. She got him to come over and we had a good chinwag; at that point, my mother appeared and handed me a pint of lager. Where I'd been on the rum and cokes all evening, I never mix drinks if I can help it; Scott was drinking lager, so I told him 'have a pint on me' and handed him the pint, to his bewilderment.
Then there was a fancy dress contest, which my mother had to judge, including one guy who was wearing what appeared to be a Christmas tree, and a raffle. To draw the first winning ticket, the Rear Commodore, who was compering, asked "Who's the prettiest girl in the room?" I yelled "Ann!" and Ann joined in yelling "Me! Me!" (as were a lot of the women) but the Rear Commodore chose a little lass. I won a prize, near the end so there was only a handful of prizes for me to choose from. Seeing three loose cans of Stella on the table, I asked whether each can was a separate prize, but the lady said no, take all three.
A top night, all the better for my meeting with Ann being totally unexpected.
Still got groin and thigh ache this morning from the mile.