BACK ON THE SOFA
Detailed planning and printing of routes is now at Montrose on the East coast of Scotland. I ‘arrived’ there the other day and my Rab TGO Challenge route has now winged its way electronically to Uncle Roger (The Co-ordinator)
Seventy Five days of planning down, about 30 to go.
And I have hit the wall. Just like a marathon runner I have hit a bit in the race where it seems impossibly difficult to get any further. So I am back on the sofa. The sofa is my friend. Watching telly again. The laptop is on my lap but it is not plotting any routes at the moment. It has stalled. I blame the equipment. Lazy, lazy laptop. Why can’t these machines think for themselves? Why do I have to do all the work all the time?
Daryl over the other side of the Atlantic has sent me a plethora of places to stay. Did I menton that he is doing his own LEJOG this year? He is so much further ahead in his planning, and he is starting three weeks after me. This feels a little bit like the ‘O’ Level revision all those ghastly years ago. Those disgustingly young people out there in the ether can ask their Dads about ‘O’ levels. It is double differentiation of the mapping kind. It is Fred the Mathematical Fly walking up the wall across the ceiling and down the other side and what was the lift man’s name? It’s all the horrid things rolled into one. It is standing on the stage and forgetting your lines in front of your horrified parents.
And I have no idea why! I raced across from Oban to Montrose. And now I am stuck. It is 'walkitis’.
I need a day off. That’s why you have days off. I am stale.
Detailed planning and printing of routes is now at Montrose on the East coast of Scotland. I ‘arrived’ there the other day and my Rab TGO Challenge route has now winged its way electronically to Uncle Roger (The Co-ordinator)
Seventy Five days of planning down, about 30 to go.
And I have hit the wall. Just like a marathon runner I have hit a bit in the race where it seems impossibly difficult to get any further. So I am back on the sofa. The sofa is my friend. Watching telly again. The laptop is on my lap but it is not plotting any routes at the moment. It has stalled. I blame the equipment. Lazy, lazy laptop. Why can’t these machines think for themselves? Why do I have to do all the work all the time?
Daryl over the other side of the Atlantic has sent me a plethora of places to stay. Did I menton that he is doing his own LEJOG this year? He is so much further ahead in his planning, and he is starting three weeks after me. This feels a little bit like the ‘O’ Level revision all those ghastly years ago. Those disgustingly young people out there in the ether can ask their Dads about ‘O’ levels. It is double differentiation of the mapping kind. It is Fred the Mathematical Fly walking up the wall across the ceiling and down the other side and what was the lift man’s name? It’s all the horrid things rolled into one. It is standing on the stage and forgetting your lines in front of your horrified parents.
And I have no idea why! I raced across from Oban to Montrose. And now I am stuck. It is 'walkitis’.
I need a day off. That’s why you have days off. I am stale.
On a positive note the downstairs loo refurbishment project is getting a little closer; flooring and lighting has been chosen. It might get done before my route at this rate.
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