Gerry
02-21-2008, 03:37 PM
Well as I set of for the hill this morning the gale blowing into my face had me learning into it like Eddie the Eagle coming off the steep snowy slopes in some Alpine winter resort. I didn't have the advantages of Eddie's helmet, goggles gloves and one piece wind proof suit. But I'm grateful for that little mercy.
Every step up that hill was like playing dodge ball in some Mad Max Thunderdome as there were twigs and litter zipping across my path trying to cut me to shreds with every gust. The whipping willows lashed and cracked like some cowboy putting on a show at the rodeo with a bull whip in each hand flicking lethally at me.
Not I know I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer but before I was half way up that hill I knew the best place for me today was back inside that nice warm safe home I had just walked out of. There was not the slightest sign of protest as I decided discretion was the better part of valour and cut our daily walk short. That's when the fun started.
As I turned my ample coat acted like a spinacre sail as it filled to capacity and had me shift like the cork from the neck of a good bottle of champagne being opened. My strides lengthened and I soon had taken on the appearance of an Olympic triple jumper in serious training. As the wind had me hop skip and jump with every stride my only thought was were is the nice safe sand pit for me to come crashing to earth in? Those guys make it look so simple on TV as they bounce painlessly.
I felt the jar of every impact trying to pop the top of my skull as each heal struck the solid tarmac.
With my walking stick firmly gripped in one hand I was wonder what the chances of me going for the Irish record for the pole vault was as the bend in the hedgerow loomed before me. I quickly unzipped my coat and let the steam out of the sail allowing me to get my brakes applied to avoid a mighty jump into the unknown. I took shelter behind an ageing tree to catch my breath before making the final dash to home and safety.
Eddie you can keep your sport.
I'll stick to walking thank you.
By Gerry Temple
copyright February 2008
Every step up that hill was like playing dodge ball in some Mad Max Thunderdome as there were twigs and litter zipping across my path trying to cut me to shreds with every gust. The whipping willows lashed and cracked like some cowboy putting on a show at the rodeo with a bull whip in each hand flicking lethally at me.
Not I know I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer but before I was half way up that hill I knew the best place for me today was back inside that nice warm safe home I had just walked out of. There was not the slightest sign of protest as I decided discretion was the better part of valour and cut our daily walk short. That's when the fun started.
As I turned my ample coat acted like a spinacre sail as it filled to capacity and had me shift like the cork from the neck of a good bottle of champagne being opened. My strides lengthened and I soon had taken on the appearance of an Olympic triple jumper in serious training. As the wind had me hop skip and jump with every stride my only thought was were is the nice safe sand pit for me to come crashing to earth in? Those guys make it look so simple on TV as they bounce painlessly.
I felt the jar of every impact trying to pop the top of my skull as each heal struck the solid tarmac.
With my walking stick firmly gripped in one hand I was wonder what the chances of me going for the Irish record for the pole vault was as the bend in the hedgerow loomed before me. I quickly unzipped my coat and let the steam out of the sail allowing me to get my brakes applied to avoid a mighty jump into the unknown. I took shelter behind an ageing tree to catch my breath before making the final dash to home and safety.
Eddie you can keep your sport.
I'll stick to walking thank you.
By Gerry Temple
copyright February 2008