infoxicated

Last week I drove up to Millport in some of the worst weather I’ve ever experienced as a driver. The Jazz isn’t the most planted of cars when it gets windy, so if you throw in lashing rain and gale force winds it can be downright scarey at motorway speeds.

By the time I arrived at Largs and waited for the ferry across to Millport I’d had just about enough of it. Fortunately the ferry trip was reasonably swift and uneventful, given the conditions, although the last leg round the coast of the island to Ted’s new flat had me feeling a bit exposed to the elements.

Speaking of Ted’s new joint; it’s very nice indeed – if I was him I’d stick it out in the cozy new flat until spring time, rather than making his annual trek to Malta for only marginally better weather.

The next day the stormy weather had blown itself out, leaving it clear and dry with a crisp chill in the air. Perfect weather for a fresh walk, actually, so we made our way along the esplanade before meeting up with Ted when he’d finished work, then walked back to the flat for lunch. The weather was beginning to turn again by the time we got indoors, and it was back to wind and rain by the time we were on the road to Aunty Mary’s place later on that afternoon.

The short stop in Uplawmoor was time well spent. Elisha had good fun climbing the stairs, and Auntie Mary hade made us some tasty merengue’s, before treating us to dinner in the Uplawmoor Hotel across the road. The food there was great – I had some bream, while Fliss and Aunty Mary had chicken and seafood salad respectively. Elisha had her first taste of prawns, courtesy of her great aunty Mary, and even enjoyed a slice of lemon that she gave her.

We had to head off after the meal, as it was getting on and we were staying with Ian, Hazel and baby Abigail for the weekend, so we didn’t want to be back too late.

Ever since I started going to the Lifestyles gym here in Liverpool I’ve avoided using the waggley stick machine, otherwise known as a Cross Trainer.

The reason I’ve avoided them is, in part, due to the way you’re kind of walking but not walking. That just looks and feels weird for a start. Mostly, though, I’ve avoided them because of the way those waggley sticks keep coming right back at you. Where I come from that’s fighting talk. Or, at the very least, mildly disconcerting.

I’m not the most athletic of people, and coordination isn’t my middle name, either. So, to have all my limbs moving at the same time, whilst I’m trying to concentrate on walking, but not walking. Well, it just made the waggley stick machine look more hassle than it was worth.

Graeme had told me that they were very good for you. You’ll burn more much calories than you will running, he said. Someone else told me that it’s very low impact – much better for you than running on the treadmill. So, with those comments in mind, I’d made a point of wandering near the waggley stick machine on each of my gym visits over the last few weeks. Each time I’d fail to pluck up the courage to actually use it.

Yet, on Thursday night, I finally summoned the bravery to use one for the final ten minutes of my gym session. I picked one that was at an angle to the mirrors in the gym, which made it kind of difficult to see myself. I figured I didn’t want to know how much of an assclown I would make of myself if I didn’t have the knack for making them go. I’d seen people going backwards on them, seemingly oblivious to the fact, and I didn’t want to be doing that.

Getting started in the right direction seemed to be fairly straightforward in the event, although looking down to see if I actually was going in the right direction brought my head perilously close to the waggley sticks. I reckon I was making awkward work of it, being unable to keep up a consistent rhythm for some reason, but after a few minutes I sort of got my head round it.