Emma-huggers

I had an early start this morning: I set off not too late, 7:20, and bombed up the A1. I arrived at Ollerton early, having taken a diversion that my iphone instructed me on. This was lucky, it meant I had time for a pee before the Forestry Commission arrived. Don't worry, that part of the blog does not have an embarrassing ending, they didn't show up. I also had time for a tramp through the undergrowth (keep it clean, no tramp jokes here). I was a bit alarmed that every single tree was marked up. Anyway, I managed to get quite lost, and thought I'd better head back to the car before I was late. When I emerged from the briars, my colleagues had arrived, and looked slightly surprised at my already slightly wild appearance. I didn't know any of them, including my own colleague, but I knew the FC staff's boss, and had a feeling he'd have put in a good word for me. Before I opened my mouth, the FC guy said "Before I forget, Andy sends his regards".

The day got better. None of the issues we had existed - the management plan for the wood had said that they were going to burn the lop and top, and I had an issue with that; but when I raised it, they said they'd never burned on the site, and it was a mistake; they weren't going to fell the entire coup we were standing in (and he was going to have words with the craftsman who'd marked it up with a spray gun). They'd just been doing some measuring of broadleaf woodland to see what the resource was, it was just auditing. They were taking deer control seriously. I was able to explain some of their practices to my colleague, especially about leaving older trees in other parts of the wood than the coppice coups. They were restoring some plantations back to semi-natural woodland. We had a great discussion about lime stools and whether to re-cut them or not. We made a plan. It was a great visit. I told them about Keith's imminent departure, and being alone in the woodland world. I said I felt like an endangered species, and Karyn suggested that we place a Tree Protection Order on me. It sounded like a good idea. I posted this on Facebook, and my friend Nicholas said "Quite right and those of us who form a group for your protection would be called a bunch of 'Emma-Huggers' by those on the political right."

I called in at the FC office on the spur of the moment to say hello to Andy, and have a cup of tea. I shouldn't have. I thought it was a half hour's drive across to my next meeting, but it was easily an hour - the traffic was heavy, and I had no idea where I was going. But my next colleague said he didn't mind, he'd had an icecream. So it was all good. This meeting was visiting a wood in the Derbyshire Dales for me to get an idea of what it was like, so I could support its notification. Being in the Dales, it was a lot more hilly than the morning visit. My leg started aching. It's hurting in additional new places now, and I'm wondering whether it's all to do with the weak knee, or just the steep hills. I mean, it's not really **hurting**, you know, it's manageable. But I'm worrying about it all the same. Thinking about the race I'm supposed to be doing a week on Sunday. And pace training tonight when I get home. I should be focusing on the lovely trees around me, and all I'm really thinking about is the slope they're growing on.

Well I drove home, still not knowing where I was going. I seemed to recall not going through Nottingham last time, and now I knew why. Note to self: don't trust the iphone. Print out sensible directions first. On the way back, I had a text from Heather saying Bourges Boulevard was closed because of flooding. That'll be the washing wet through again then. I arrived home somewhere before 8. I decided that while yesterday I was in a fit state to exercise, today I wasn't. I messaged Sal asking what she'd advise tomorrow, whether I should do the pace training (scheduled for today) or the 50 minute run as planned. I also shared my concerns about the leg. She was having them too. "How do yo feel about a 2 week rest? Don't worry, we've got time for it, you've got the miles. Only thing is, you'd have to pull out of that race".

There was relief, but I have to admit, it was tinged with disappointment. And, well, you know, failure. I felt like I was quitting. "I feel like I'm quitting" I emailed back. "No - you're being sensible" Sal said. "And we can still do cycling and swimming - you're just having a break from running." I still had one question: "What about Arthur's Seat? I wanted to run around Arthur's seat this weekend?". We came to an agreement that I could have one parting shot. I could run around Arthur's Seat, and then take a rest.

What the hell is going on? I'm bartering to DO running?