BLIND DAVE'S BLOG

09-02-2007

Just 12 weeks to go until the London marathon, and Black Country marathon runner Blind Dave Heeley is getting distracted by hot metal cooking trays masquerading as towels. And more DIY disasters.

Hi Stirrers

I can't believe it's February already, where is the time going? Is it just me, or is the world spinning too quickly.

Talking of quick, I'm still a bit nimble on my feet it appears, or should I say with my fingers.

Debb is a cracker for making the towel in the downstairs loo disappear into the washing machine, so I walked across the kitchen, around the sink, hands out stretched for the other towel, hanging over the cooker handle.

Things happened rather quickly then - in fact extremely quickly.

Debb hadn't noticed me coming from behind, I didn't know she was at the cooker, she opened the oven door to check the meat and at the same time I reached for the towel.

As my hand touched what I thought was going to be soft material, I was very surprised to feel metal, heat and to my surprise my fingers sizzled as I touched the meat tin. It was at this point that over two yards Linford Cristie would never have beaten me,

In fact at that point in time I would have taken gold medals for the triple jump, back stroke, high jump in fact every flipping jump. There was Debb going sideways as I made her jump, me going backwards at a rapid rate of knots.

It all happened so quickly. We laugh now, it's amazing in a split second how accidents can happen, but I've learned something. I shall have Debb waiting at the start of the next run I do to put a hot meat dish in my hand. It's amazing how quickly you move - I should win every time hands down.

Mind it's been another one of those weeks, with things continually sent to test you.

I changed the dead lock in the workshop door, and I thought the dinky little screws would come out easily. But oh no. I took the heads off both screws with the pozi bit, but it was fully three parts of an hour later when (with a bit of cussing I admit) I had to drill them out. Two silly half inch screws.

After that it was plain sailing. I chiselled out for the lock, altered the key hole, chiselled out the door frame for the keep, the lock flew in, turned the key, hey presto it locked.

Then there's the shelf brackets. All I wanted to do was add a fold down flap to a small table, so rang up the iron mongers and told them what I wanted.

“Easy”, they said. "Two brackets, spring loaded to support the leaf?" They looked in their catalogue and decided what bracket would do the job. But surprise, surprise, three brackets later, three brackets sent back and the table leaf is still sitting on the bench in the workshop. Is it it any wonder I get frustrated?

I don't think I was talking in Chinese when I was explaining what I wanted.

Guess who got lost again this week? It's becoming part and parcel of my daily life, and I can't even blame my guide Wicksie this time.

Coming from the town (West Brom) I thought I'd nip into my aunt's for a cuppa. I must have got distracted - me being perfect I don't know how! But when I gave her a quick ring to say “stop me as I come past” - and yes, I was using hands free - she said “where are you?” “Coming down the street”, I replied,

“Not down this street you're not, there's no sign of you at all”. It appears I took the wrong turning somehow before eventually she came looking and we met up.

“How did you get over there? “ she said. “How do I get anywhere?” I thought. Still, now we'd found each other, panic over and a nice hot Cappucino was very nice.

Strange how things also get in my way. I was in the local club having a pint and needed the little boys room. John the steward looked after Wicksie for me and I made my way out of the bar, turned right, 20 foot along the corridor and there's the loo.

I'm sure Jeremy Beadle was lurking, I thought the loo door was a bit soon, as I pushed at the door, it gently rocked, “That's not the loo door Dave, some one has wedged the lounge door open”, came the voice from behind me, so I closed it and carried on.

A little further on, door handle, turned it, gave it a gentle nudge, remembering Lidl's electric doors, “That's not the toilet door either, some one has also wedged that open”, came the voice again.

Good job the door was locked and some one was following me or I could have been still wondering around the car park now, “I ought to follow you around all day with a video camera, I'd make a fortune on You've Been Framed”, came the voice. He's probably right I thought, but would he go half whacks with the prize money?

With the London marathon only around 12 weeks away, yes these months are certainly flying by, incredible to think it's another London looming.

Our long runs are more and more dominant now. Saturday saw our first 16-mile run and Sunday saw me really flying, literally. There we were running nicely up the road and having a chat about how well the Baggies were doing when I caught the curb with my foot.

I tripped, took off, did a lovely somersault, rolled twice and went in off the traffic post. Now I know what a football feels like.I

Mac picked up the cord again, as he had loosed it when I fell. He said he wasn't coming down with me and then asked “Why do you bother looking around to see if any one has seen you?”

I always wonder why myself, I just think it's a natural reaction from when I could see. It must seem funny I suppose, looking in on the situation, so feeling like a prairie hat we carried on running.

It wasn'tuntil I got home and the girls told me there was blood on my arm that I found outI'd cut myself. I suppose it could have been worse, I could have damaged my good looks! Now, now, there's no need for that kind of thought, just because you don't see what I see in the mirror.

The weekend saw the girls go for another dance lesson; all I can say is that they apparently enjoyed it but that is as far as we get. For some reason I didn't get my dance lesson. I think they saw enough of my fine dance movements from last week and embarrassment sprung in to their little minds.

“We don't want to see Dad prancing around again this week” they must have thought. I suppose it must spoil their vision of Come Dancing - and I always thought I was a good mover! Proves even I can be wrong some times, so twinkle toes Blind Dave will have to wait until our next do to show off my fancy foot work on the dance floor. Or perhaps not - maybe I'll stay with selling the raffle tickets.

Well that's another week's fun over, the weather forecast is cold to getting colder, even Jack Frost is putting on his scarf, the white stuff is also looming but the one advantage with that is if I trip again, at least it's a softer landing in the snow. So it's Blind Dave with a definite chance of getting wet, signing off till next week.