Cycles of change

Don't have to ferry Louis today because his big brother, Clement, is home from UCL for his birthday. He is 19 today, and will take Louis for his last day of school before the Easter Holidays. ( I have posted a photo of the pair of them taken on holiday on top of a fell in the Lakes, which we renamed Louis' Mountain).
Today is a swim day, so decided to cycle to the pool after breakfast. It was quite cold first thing so wearing a jacket and gloves set off down Green Lane, through the snickett onto Butt Lane and down to Main Street. Cycling through Tickton Village, before heading into Beverley down Weel Road, this runs alongside the River Hull and Swinemoor. Quite a few cars passed me and once over Weel Bridge, I was glad to get off the road and onto the riverside path that leads to Beverley Beck. Two women were working trying to raise a sunken barge and told me they were confident of doing this. A little further on was another sunken barge but this looked beyond hope and was well under way to being reclaimed by nature, however, something about it caught my eye, so I took a photo of it. The riverside path connects to Beckside by Barmston Drain and is a good vantage point for a view of the locks and foot bridge, so snapped this and then took some other shots of Figham Common and of Beverley Beck, to post with yesterday's blog. Arriving at the leisure centre at 9:20, changed, showered and was in the water ready to start my breathing exercises by 9:30 A.M. The breakfast swimmers had mostly left and the schools are not in today, as its the last day of term, so once again a whole lane to myself. No after effects from yesterday's run so focussed on a breathing meditation for a few minutes. Once relaxed and ready, pushed off underwater to commence the fly leg of my first 100 IM warm up. Swimming slowly and smoothly and completing the IM in 38 strokes. Rest breathing for a minute or so and then the second warm up 100, also in 38 strokes, (6 fly, 15 back, 6 breast and 11 freestyle). Felt fine after the warm up, and then did a further eight 100 IM's, focussing on one aspect of stroke for each style. The mind/body can only focus on one kinaesthetic feedback at a time. Swimming meditatively, in "real time", and trying not to make a splash whilst keeping each stroke long and smooth.
Concentrating on the following aspects of stroke:-
Fly, keeping the chin in contact with the water when breathing. This reduces undulation and minimises drag.
Backstroke, reaching for the roof with the arms on recovery and letting the arm fall back into the water under the force of gravity. This facilitates correct body roll and helps to maintain streamlining.
Breaststroke, swimming with a short, fast arm recovery, this ensures the arms don't pull back behind shoulder level and minimises drag because it reduces the time spent out of the streamlined glide position.
Freestyle, ensuring full body roll to accompany the arm recovery. This ensures maximum power from the core muscles of the trunk, which give the stroke it's speed.
These kinaesthetic feedback drills work at two levels:- they improve technique and they focus the attention on the present moment. In water a one percent improvement in technical efficiency produces a two percent improvement in performance. Or put another way reducing your freestyle stroke count per length from 20 down to 19 means you use 10 percent less effort.
Warmed down with an easy 500m shared between freestyle and backstroke.
After my swim had a tea and a bun and chatted briefly with Sandra and Helen, who work in the cafe, before cycling to Cherry Burton to take the dogs out and do a little more gardening.
My bike is an old Raliegh tourer and was built like a tank, in Nottingham, some years ago. It is a means of transport, and anything under 10k can usually be cycled, weather permitting. Things can be seen when you are on foot, or on a bike, that would be missed in the car. Turning off the Malton Road on to Main Street in Cherry, the field to the left was filled with spring lambs, a pair of twins were watching as I rode by, so stopped and took their picture.
Tomorrow is a rest day, three runs and three swims completed this week. So far so good.

Four miles round Figham Common

According to the forecast, tomorrow is the last day of the fine weather, just as the children break up for the Easter holidays. Still, conditions change.
After the school run, the dog walk and some gentle gardening, I drive to the leisure centre and change into my running gear and then spend a few minutes composing myself before setting out for an easy run round Figham Common. Iit takes about seven weeks to establish a reasonable level of running fitness, but as my core muscles and cardiovascular systems are good from swimming and walking, it may take a little less. My body will let me know when it feels ready, usually this will manifest as an increase in stride length. At the moment my stride length is quite short, but having had more comebacks from illness and injury than Rocky Balboa, I have learned to be patient and have faith in my body.
Turning right out of the leisure centre, run down Flemingate towards Beverley Beck on the pavement. Across the road is a large new development which will be shops, houses and a multiplex cinema. There are mixed views about it in the town, but at least it is a brownfield site. This is the least enjoyable part of the run, because of the traffic, but it only lasts for 400m and I am soon running alongside the Beck. It is lovely and warm at midday and I have dressed in just shorts and vest. There is no traffic down here, only a few anglers and people walking. Quite soon settle into a nice rhythm and breath easily through my nose, scanning my body and letting go of any tension becomes apparent. The rhythm of the running, the relaxation and awareness of my breathing, soon has me in a meditative state. As the sense of self diminishes, the presence of the world becomes more intense, more poignant. The environment is certainly beautiful, the weeping willows drooping into the quiet water, the picturesque boats and barges moored against the banks of the Beck. There is little wind, the sky is an intense cobalt blue and I strip of my vest to enjoy the warm feeling of the sun on my chest and back. There are moorhens and ducks here and there on the water, but the big birds, the geese and the swans have yet to return after the winter. After a mile I am running alongside Figham Common, one of four in Beverley and the most southerly. The Beck is actually a short canal and connects, via lock gates, to the river Hull. Figham lies to the south, bounded by the river on one side and Beverley Road on the other. (This leads to the City of Hull about ten miles South.)
Just before the lock I turn right and run south alongside Barmston Drain, a large man made waterway, that runs parallel to the river. Sheep are pastured on Figham, but they will not be brought onto the common until after Easter. I am running on a dirt path, and as East Yorkshire is now officially in drought, the going is firm and easy. Approaching the bridge over the drain, notice four workmen repairing the bridge, they are replacing the old planks with new, the work almost complete, just two near side planks to replace. The gap is about a foot. A solution is soon negotiated, the workmen are not allowed to let me cross until the work is complete, but they are not allowed to stop me either. So step over the gap, wave them goodby and run on towards the river bank. The going under foot is more difficult now, the path rutted and uneven and I seem, somehow, to have speeded up after the bridge. So slow down and relax again, letting the adrenalin fade away. Figham is marshland, with huge clumps of marsh grass, declaiming that fact. Ahead the levee looms, rising 15 or 20 feet above my head. When I get there, turn left, (north) and climb the grassy bank, gradually, in a long diagonal ascent. On top of the levee there is a pleasant, cooling breeze, and across the river, the village of Weel. Passing a few dog walkers, comment on the unseasonal weather, too soon the lock gates appear. These also form a footbridge over the Beck, and now run back on the opposite bank, underneath the shade of the willows , still moving easily and smoothly. Further along the Beck, beyond the willow trees, are new houses and flats that overlook the Water. Finally, the Forresters Arms, and a bronze statue of a barges mark the western end of the Beck. Crossing Flemingate and jogging the last few yards back to the centre.
Cool down outside before replacing my vest and putting a towel round my neck, before making my way to the gym for an easy 15 minute warm down on the exercise bike. Afterwards, shower and swim a few lengths easy freestyle and backstroke before dressing and heading for the cafe for tea and scone.
I have posted a picture of me after my run and will post pictures of the Beck and Figham later.

Family, spirituality and art.

Today was special, every day I ferry my youngest grandson, Louis, to school. This morning he told me he had to go to St Mary's Church and not to school. When we arrived the whole school was there, plus some mums and nanas and one or two dads. Louis wanted me to stay, so I did, even though I had planned something else. It was a lovely service in a picturesque, old medieval, gothic church and I left uplifted. Between Jesus and the Buddha there are no disagreements.
The fine weather continues, and afterwards I walked the dogs for an hour, did an hours gardening and then drove to the pool, arriving at one O'clock. It was quiet again, probably people preferring to enjoy the sunshine in their lunch break, so there is a lane to myself once more.
Feeling a little tired and deferred deciding what to do until I had warmed up. Sometimes the tiredness is mental rather than physical and disappears after warm up. Today was like that, on other days, when the tiredness persists, I do less and sometimes nothing at all. Swimming meditatively requires treating rest and recovery periods as equally important aspects of the meditation. Rest is passive meditation and swimming active meditation, and this starts before the first stroke. Ideally the swim ought to be preceded by 20 minutes or so of sitting meditation, but this isn't easy to do in a public baths. Instead I compose myself whilst changing and showering, not being in a rush is important. Then I start my warm up by practising the breathing recovery that I will use between repetitions. This entails calm, meditative, breathing for a minute or so to settle the mind before pushing off on my warm up swim.
Today I swam two 100 IMs really slowly to warm up, with about a minute or so's rest between them. As mentioned in earlier posts, the active meditation focusses on the use of good technique, the feel of the water flowing round the body, the awareness of the breath and of the sensory messages from the environment. Just because the warm up is swum very slowly doesn't alter the attention that is given to it.
Because I felt OK after the warm up, I swam a further 8 x 100 IM's, stretching and putting more effort into the various strokes, whilst still keeping mentally relaxed and trying to swim without making a splash. The routine of breathing rests and breathing swims is very calming. It is also vital not to swim tired. A tired stroke is a poor stroke and will imprint poor technique on the mind/body. To warm down I swim 200 metres backstroke, rested and then a further 200 freestyle. Both very easily.
Tomorrow is a running day, but this evening I took my oldest granddaughter, Alice, to the New Theatre in Hull to see Northern Ballet's production of "Beauty and the Beast". It was stunning, one of those occasions where the actuality exceeds the anticipation. Alice will be in India for her Birthday in two weeks and this was my gift to her before she leaves on Friday.
So today was a lovely, special day, that I shall always cherish.

Westwood Ho!

This great weather looks like continuing for a few more days and decide to run on Beverley Westwood after I have dropped my youngest grandson, Louis, at St Mary's primary school. He will be 5 in June. There was frost first thing so decide to wear trackster bottoms and a long sleeve thermal top. We park in Norfolk street, from where I will run, it's only yards from the common and less than 400 metres from Louis' school.
After delivering Louis to school, I walk back to the car, strip off my track suit top and jog to the gate that leads to the common.
Beverley is unique in having four commons that have survived from medieval times, the Westwood, which combines a golf course and free pasture for cattle from April until the end of October, the Hurn, which contains the racecourse and pastures both sheep and cows, both of these lie adjacent to the town to the west. The other two commons lie to the East bordering the river Hull, they are Swinemoor, which pastures ponies and Figham which has sheep. I regularly run on all of these. I have posted a photo of Louis on Swinemoor last summer below.
The run is circular and undulating, once through the gate turn south and jog down hill slightly towards the York road. I'm breathing easily and running towards the sun, which although it's only 9 O' clock, is already quite warm. The racecourse is to my right and there are a few dog walkers around. I am monitoring my body as usual, this is cross country running and I can feel the extra effort needed on the uneven ground. After a few minutes cross the York Road onto the Westwood and into some deciduous woodland known as Newbegin Pits, the name comes from the fact that chalk was quarried here in olden times. Beverley lies on the Yorkshire Wolds, chalk downs, recently made famous by David Hockney. I am starting to loosen up now and enjoy running on the paths through the trees although it is gently uphill. Emerging from the trees I head towards Black Mill, which as the name implies, is a disused windmill that dominates the skyline. There are a lot of dog walkers and I say hello to a couple I know as I reach the Mill. The going is easier now as I'm heading slightly downhill on a path that's well worn, cross a fairway and then carry on to the western boundary of the common before rounding the gorse bushes and turning east towards Newbald Road. Running downhill on the fairway is easy going but I am regretting the pants and the thermals as the sun is now strong. Roll up my sleeves and focus on relaxation and the beautiful surroundings. Across the road turn northeast and uphill towards Burton Bushes. It's uphill for half a mile now and I shorten my stride and run easy. By the time I cross the gate into the woods I'm sweating profusely. I love Burton Bushes, its primeval woodland that has never been cultivated, there are lots of oaks and elms and the paths are continuously changing as trees fall down. To think the whole country was once like this! Emerging from the woods continue across York Road and through the gates of the Racecourse. It's downhill now through the centre of the race track and back to the car. By the time I get back I find I have been running for an hour and enjoyed every minute. Grab a towel from the car and a bottle of water and walk back to the gate to cool off and then drive to the leisure centre, where I spend 15 minutes gently cycling on a machine before showering and swimming a few easy lengths and then heading for the cafe.
Tomorrows a swim day.
Photos of Hurn Lodge, Norfolk street and Beverley Hurn common looking west to the racecourse

Back in the swim

Woke this morning at 6:30 with no after effects from yesterday's run, not even a little stiffness. Because the clocks have gone forward, it's not yet sunrise but the weather looks promising, some ground frost and a little mist. Sunrise when it comes is beautiful, I have posted a shot from my garden below. Conditions have been excellent here recently, being Northern England we tend to get a fair amount of wind, cloud and rain, especially in March. I took the dogs out for an hour down the long distance path at Cherry Burton and then did some light gardening until lunchtime before heading to the pool. Local Schools swim during the week so I tend to go between 12:00 and 2:00.
18 years army service left me unconsciously afflicted by what I call "rushing roulette". In the army everything is done at the double and for years afterwards, I found myself always hurrying whenever I was getting changed and ready to swim. This impatience used to carry over into the water and was unhelpful. To exercise with quality and enjoyment it helps greatly to prepare in a relaxed, unhurried, and calm frame of mind. The governing principle should be to use the time available for exercise wisely, considering what can be done with quality, enjoyment and relaxation in an unhurried manner. The pool is quiet today, I find a free lane and swim butterfly and backstroke without having to worry about other swimmers.
When conditions allow I like to swim individual medleys, known as IM's to competitive swimmers. IM swimming presents the greatest technical and physical challenge and also the greatest variety and satisfaction, once mastered. The practice focusses on technique, trying to swim with the least possible effort and the maximum efficiency. This means swimming without a splash and completing each length in the fewest possible strokes.
The order of the medley is butterfly, backstroke, breast stroke and freestyle,(front crawl.) Today's swim is going to be about 1000 metres, (40 lengths), as I haven't swum for 2 weeks and want to see how I am before doing more. After 2 or 3, medleys, I am moving well and enjoying the swim. The sense of a personal self diminishes as concentration on technique and the sensory feedback of feeling my body glide smoothly through the water captures my whole attention.
Before each swim it helps to breathe in a relaxed manner for a minute or so in order to compose the mind and to rest the body. It is important to avoid swimming tired, "no pain, more gain"! After finishing the tenth IM, swim 100m backstroke and 100m front crawl, as slowly as possible to warm down.
Of course it isn't necessary to be able to do all the strokes, or be an expert swimmer in order to practice meditative swimming. Each stroke can be learned as a progression of simple drills, each of which can form the basis of a meditation.
Beyond forty years of age, exclusive focus on fitness and strength training show diminishing returns, and this can be dispiriting. Changing focus on to the quality of technique and skill can continue throughout life, and the positive feedback of continuously improving skill encourages further practice.
Swimming, in particular, rewards this approach as a ten percent improvement in stroke efficiency produces a twenty percent improvement in speed, (or a twenty percent reduction in effort for the same speed.) Using these practices it is possible to improve efficiency by large factors. This can be measured easily by counting the number of strokes taken to complete a length. From personal experience, stroke count can be almost halved and therefore efficiency nearly doubled. However this has taken place over a number of years.
The real "proof of the pudding", is how one feels after completing the meditation. It is not possible to comment for others but my feeling is nearly always of being more at ease and at home in the world.

On the road again

Today is probably one of the most beautiful March days I can remember. The early fog burned off by late morning and we have clear blue skies, bright sunshine and the merest zephyr of a breeze. I decided to run before lunch, around one O'clock, which would have been noon before the clocks went forward this morning. The temperature here is about 65 degrees, maybe 70 in the sun, so nearly perfect for running. I haven't been out for two weeks due to illness, so I check my feet and trim my toenails before running. I live in a small village called Tickton, about two miles from the East Riding town of Beverley, so the countryside is on my doorstep and my garden looks out onto the fields around which I run. I always start off very slowly, focussing on my balance first, making sure I am poised and erect, loose and relaxed. I jog the hundred yards or so down Green Lane breathing easily through my nose. A few neighbours are out, gardening, cleaning cars or walking dogs. Everyone enjoying the unseasonal warm weather. At the end of Green Lane there is a snickett which leads on to Carr Lane. This turns into a dirt track after another hundred yards and I am running south now into the warm sun.
As I run I scan my body, looking for tension and find my neck and shoulders are a little tight and so I allow them to soften and relax. I pass the stables on my right, an old, one eyed jack russell always guards the entrance but we are old friends, so I stop briefly to say hello and give him a pat. A little further down the lane on the right is a farm with chickens, geese and llamas. The stud llama is kept in a little field of his own and he watches me as he chews his cud in that special way only members of the camel family have. I nod a greeting as I pass. Alone now, I start a circular breathing exercise as I run, counting each breath up to seven and then down to one, and then repeating the cycle. Still monitoring my body and surroundings whilst the breathing cycles round. At the bottom of the lane is a little wooden bridge over the drain, this whole area was marshland, or carrs, before the land was drained. Across the bridge I turn east, towards the River Hull which lies a half a mile away behind its levee, and then enter a small plantation of mixed deciduous and coniferous trees. The sunlight is dappled through the branches and the path undulates a little as it passes over large roots. The scent of pine resin is strong, and the birds are in full spring voice. I have christened this plantation "almost straight wood" because it runs straight as an arrow, apart from dog legs on entry and exit. (I have posted a picture of the path that I took a month ago during the snow.)
Coming out of the wood I turn south again, there is another plantation to my right and the field to my left has young pea plants now about a foot high. By now I am warmed up and moving freely and relaxed, absorbed in the sensations of my body and the sights, sounds and scents of nature around me. The welcome sun smiles warmly on my face and bare arms and legs. I am dancing with the moment, unconcerned by how far I have gone or yet have to go. I don't time myself or even wear a watch, I don't care how fast I go. I do this because it gives me pleasure and satisfaction and have realised that positive enjoyable feedback is the best motivation for exercise.
Two drains intersect at the corner of the field and you often find deer here at dawn or dusk, particularly in winter. They can jump the drains easily. The path turns east now and runs straight for about a mile, parallel to the path through "Nearly Straight Wood", which I can see across the pea field. I am moving with a nice rhythm and resist the temptation to go faster because I want to see how my body handles this run before increasing the workload. Before turning north, I pass a family picnicking by the side of the path, I nod a greeting and run on. I can see Green Lane ahead of me, about a mile away across the fields in the distance, and run with the sun on my back for about half a mile, before turning west towards the bridge again. In the distance lies Beverley Minster, a medieval gothic masterpiece, founded by Saint John of Beverley around 620 AD. Beverley was originally "beaver's lee," and beavers abounded in the marshes that lay to the east and south the town. We still have a beaver in our coat of arms. I have posted a shot of the minster at sunset taken in the snow that was taken on the same afternoon as the photo of the woods. Soon I am back over the bridge and retracing my steps down Carr Lane. The Jack Russell is still there, but has wandered back into the stable yard, he's a friendly old boy. I arrive home sweating slightly, still breathing through my nose and feel as if I could go round again. It has been a lovely little run, but conditions were perfect and they are not always so. I shall see how I feel in the morning, and all being well will swim.

Beginning near the end

Most people exercise in their youth for fun, in middle age, perhaps for fitness and in old age not at all. Yet for some strange reason, enjoyment perhaps, I have never given up. Nature will intervene at some point but for as long as I can derive satisfaction from exercise, I shall continue whilst I am still able.
Over the years the nature of the practice has slowly evolved. For older people, the quality of life's actions and practices, become more important than the quantity or level of exertion.
These days all my exercises, whether swimming, running, walking or anything else, have become meditations. The focus of my attention lies in the sensations and feel of what I am doing right now. Right now as I run or swim, walk or cycle. Trying to experience and commune with the "living moment" as it gently unfolds.
In this way my exercises have become both physical and spiritual. The more I lose myself in the absorbed concentration of these practices, the more the beauty of the world envelops and moves me. This blog is not intended to tell anyone else what to do. Simply to record my practices and occasional insights, for my own benefit and for the benefit of anyone with whom my writing finds resonance.
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