More running

I've been reading a bit more about running form - I've read more of Chi Running and Born to Run, and I feel like I have a better idea what I want now. I think barefoot itself is going to be too hard (for most of the time at any rate) so I'm going to try running in much thinner shoes - unfortunately it seems to be extremely hard to get hold of Nike Frees at the moment - even Nike Town only had 7.0s in a size 10. This morning I tried running in my Converse trainers, which worked quite well - I got a much better sense of feedback from the ground, and I ran much more midfoot. I'm currently stopping regularly to try to reset my form based on the ideas in Chi Running, so we'll see how it goes for a few weeks. So far I've not had any knee pain, but my calves are much tighter than normal, which I think shows I'm using them to absorb more energy when I put my foot down.

Barefoot Running

I knew there was something else - I'm trying to gradually convert to barefoot-style running. Well, I say that, I think what I really want is to convert to a lower-impact, less heel-strikey way of running, but I think learning to run barefoot will be a big help. So far I've managed to do five minutes or so on Parker's Piece, which is quite pleasant. I'm waiting for some Nike Frees to arrive, which should let me run on more surfaces without worrying about glass or other small, sharp things.

I've also started reading ChiRunning, which is a lot less woo than the title makes it sound. Basically, it gives techniques to use more of your core muscles while running, but the effect is similar - i.e. you end up leaning forward more, and using your body to lift the legs so you in effect run by controlled falling. But that also brings you more to the front of the foot, so it's quite complementary.

Not sure what's brought it on really - I just read a critical mass of stuff that suggests it's better for you + I think maybe I just need something new to get me interested in running again. I'm almost pleased to discover that the running shops here don't have any lightweight shoes, and give you a funny look if you ask for them. Anyway, we'll see how it goes.

Now, the game's afoot (ah, didn't even mean to make that pun) - it's time for Sherlock on TV.

into August

I've been meaning to update for a while, but just haven't got round to it. We went on holiday to Perranporth in Cornwall, which was great - excellent weather, and it was a really nice spot. The beach was great, the sea was incredibly dramatic, and there were great cliffs and places to run and walk. Only the flat was a bit of a disappointment - it was spacious and well-fitted out, but there was a real smell of damp in the bedrooms. Not much we can do about it in retrospect, but if anyone's reading this I'd be cautious about booking anything in Droskyn Castle with Duchy Holidays.

What else? I went to Lizzie's end of term production of the Tempest at Ridgefield (there are some good pics up on the school website). The end of term marked the retirement of the current head, Ray Doe, so there was a presentation for him (although I was disappointed he didn't decide to ceremonially cast the symbols of his office into the waves as well). Our new head, Anne Morten, starts in September.

I read the new John Crowley novel, Four Freedoms. Not sure what to make of it really. It's beautifully written, and it illuminates a time and a set of experiences that I hadn't thought about before (women and disabled workers at an aeroplane plant in the mid-west during WW2) but I wasn't sure what it added up to at the end. Then on recommendation from people in a MeFi thread, I thought I'd have a go at Caleb Carr's The Alienist. I actually couldn't get through more than a few chapters before giving up on reading a sentence where the protagonist's hair is described as "moist" after he has been out in the rain. "Moist"? Who has moist hair? It should be damp, or wet even. This will seem like excessive pedantry, but it was just the straw that broke the camel's back - the whole book is full of sloppy writing. If anyone wants my copy, they're welcome to it.

After that I seemed to go into a bit of a decline again, leading to feeling pretty awful last weekend. This week I seem to be back to normal again, so it's just one more up and down on the roller-coaster I guess. Next week I have to go up to Lincoln to do a few more things, so that may be a bit tough too.

Fathers Day

I've had an enjoyable day - I took the girls up to the newly re-opened Histon playground, and they made me lovely cards. This afternoon I managed to go out on the bike for a ride out on the towpath up to Baits Bite lock and back via Milton country park (and the Old Spring pub).

Yesterday we went to a party for some friends of ours who are going back to the USA soon. And earlier in the week I met up with a former colleague for an evening out in London, so it's been a pretty good week altogether.

I'm in a strange state at the moment though. I recently re-read Franzen's The Corrections (which I read last year when I was feeling pretty down) and it seemed even more full of correspondences to my own life than it did last time. It's difficult to explain without explaining the whole book, but it's fair to say that the elderly, ill parents, and the children with various forms and manifestations of sadness and anxiety struck a chord in me. And that's why I wanted to read it - I wanted to have something outside myself that would put words onto the grief so I could maybe explain it to myself a bit more. I'd read it again, except I know it will say the same things.

I'm trying to be kind to myself, but I'm not very good at being patient while I go up and down emotionally. I get through a trough and I think it ought to be the last one, like throwing up the last of something that makes you sick, but it doesn't seem to be like that. It's unpredictable - I feel fine one day, and then I'm crying in the car the next. Also, I'm not sure where to draw the line between being kind to myself and indulging myself. I'm tempted to distract myself from grief with treats and that doesn't really seem healthy either.

And I'm impatient to do... something. I'm not sure what, but I feel like I have to make the most of what time I have (the finiteness seems much more immediate now), and here I am just struggling to get through a week or a weekend.

Fortunately it's a short week at work this week and then we're off on holiday. A week away from home will no doubt do me good, and I'm looking forward to seeing Cornwall again.

General catch up

Just wanted to catch up on some of the more mundane things that have been going on. I just finished Gene Wolfe's most recent novel An Evil Guest - I think I have similar mixed feelings about as the reviewers on Amazon. There are lots of interesting parts to it, and it moves at a fair clip, but it never quite gelled into anything consistent for me - it could have been a future noir detective story, but there are too many supernatural elements for that. Perhaps the idea is that the horror elements are meant to be concealed deep within the book, but then those aspects are never fully developed. I hate to say that I've gone off Wolfe, but this is certainly not his best work.

Earlier this weekend I was leafletting for the local LibDem candidate. I saw all the Cambridge candidates at a hustings a couple of weeks ago. I was pretty much going to vote Lib Dem anyway - partly because I like a lot of their policies, partly because they're the only local party that can beat Labour (and much as I thought Daniel Zeichner seemed pretty competent at the hustings, I disagreed with him on pretty much everything). I'm still pretty disappointed at the way the parties are concealing the cuts we're going to need to get out from under the deficit though. That's if there isn't some kind of sovereign debt crisis in the meantime - there was a fantastic Paul Mason post on this the other day.

Before that we were appointing a new head teacher for Ridgefield Primary (where I'm a governor). It was very interesting being on the selection panel, and I was impressed with both the candidates we saw. Obviously I can't say anything about the details, but I'm happy that we made the right choice, and I really think the new head will be able to make a difference to the school.

What else? I just started Tai Chi at the Cambridge Buddhist Centre - only had one session so far, but it was enjoyable (although I need some kind of light weight shoe - my trainers are too heavy, but if I don't wear them my feet get cold and cramp up!) and it's something I really want to get into more.

I shall try to get back into a more regular posting habit again. I can feel various thoughts in the back of my mind but that's enough for now.

Gordon Freestone 1933 - 2010

My dad died last month, not long after my brother and I got him settled into a care home. I miss him, but I don't think I have a lot more to say than that really. I feel like maybe I should, since I posted a long entry about my mum's death at the end of December and it's not like I cared any less for dad than I did for mum. Perhaps it's just too soon and I will come back to it in a few months, or perhaps it's the effect of losing both parents in such a short space of time.

Anyway I wanted to post something so I can get back to "normal" subjects. The big Death post has been hanging over me for too long.

Kathryn Jane Freestone 1947 - 2009

We'd just sung Happy Birthday to my younger daughter when I got a call from my brother to come up to Lincoln as soon as I could. I assumed it was my dad, as he had a stroke a few years ago and hasn't been in the best of health, but instead it turned out my mum had stopped breathing and been taken to the ICU.

She died two days later - too much oxygen starvation, and her body never recovered. So it's been a tough month really: I've been back and forth to Lincoln to help make arrangements for mum, and also to help my brother look after dad, and think about what he's going to do next - we can't look after him in his home, so we've been looking at long term care (I'll do another post later on the intricacies of funding). We're going to visit a home he likes tomorrow, so hopefully that will be sorted fairly soon.

Mum's funeral was yesterday - the crematorium was extremely busy in early January - partly because they close over Christmas, and partly I guess the bad weather increased the number of people dying. It was very well attended by folks from all periods of mum's life - old friends, people from Sudbrooke, people from her old workplace, and friends from the last period of her life looking after dad since his stroke. Several people commented that the service was very good. The celebrant's name was Andrew Key - I would happily recommend him to anyone that wants a civil ceremony. he collection raised over 340 pounds for Arthritis Research and Sue Ryder Care. My brother read a poem - Ducks by Frank W Harvey, which I think mum would have liked.

When God had finished the stars and whirl of coloured suns
He turned His mind from big things to fashion little ones;
Beautiful tiny things (like daisies) He made, and then
He made the comical ones in case the minds of men
Should stiffen and become
Dull, humourless and glum,
And so forgetful of their Maker be
As to take even themselves - quite seriously.
Caterpillars and cats are lively and excellent puns:
All God's jokes are good - even the practical ones!
And as for the duck, 1 think God must have smiled a bit
Seeing those bright eyes blink on the day He fashioned it.
And he's probably laughing still at the sound that came out of its bill!

I'm not sure how I feel really. Sad of course, but not particularly upset. I said goodbye at the hospital, and that was quite gut-wrenching, but perhaps it was all I really needed. It's not that we weren't close, but I feel we both understood each other as adults since I had a family of my own: she gave us her love and approval, and we offered her ours in return. I know she loved H, and H said she was the best mother in law one could hope for. She loved L and E, and was always showing people their photos. I'm glad she got to meet them, even if it was for a fairly short part of their lives.



Goodbye, Mum.