Dragging the lump of tree through the woods was hard enough but brambles and briars pulling at my ankles gave some extra hinderance. My general strategy for manual labour is to move slowly with a big load, rather than make several smaller journeys. Another tug at the ankle made me think of dark horror movies where hands come out of the ground to pull the living into the soil. “I won’t go without a fight,” I thought with a wry smile.
Working alone does this to you. Imagination fills the woods with magic, mysteries and wild thoughts. Woodpeckers sound like the Predator, “It’s in the trees,” said Billy (in the film) and looking at the amount of deadfall the idea of a 140kg monster marauding around the tree tops doesn’t seem so farfetched. I look up wistfully, gripping the boat hook, the silky saw sheathed – for now. I know a few monsters actually, though they tend to frequent other localities.
Falkirk in Scotland a few days later was one such place – with Mantas Daunekis and CLAYMORE James Stewart being the monsters starring in the main event of ARMGODS Battle of the Pipes. I would guess they weigh 300kg between them and need no makeup to star in horror movies. I’ve gripped up (and lost) to both of them, so have an appreciation of their abilities. ARMGODS are an armwrestling promotion run by Paul Maiden. We’re friends and occasionally I pull, more often I’m the Wrangler (rounding up the pullers to be in the right place for the continuity of the broadcast) or referee. This time I was commentator. Mantas and Jim had a great scrap. I spoke to both after. Obviously, the winner was delighted, the loser less so, though reflective of how next time will be better. The eleven other matches had their own charm for other reasons and I enjoyed them all.
The next morning, I made my way to Edinburgh to a Scottish Judo Veterans training session. On the way I stopped by a section of the Antonine Wall built by the Romans in their conquest of Britain to repel the Scots. I can appreciate their reasoning I thought to myself many hours and bruises later. I learned a lot from them and they are certainly tough. Whilst strolling alongside a riverbank in the sunshine, I reflected on the battles of the weekend and marvelled at the landscape, the building of the wall and a dozen other things. Giant rocks lined the path and I thought about having a go at lifting some like friends do elsewhere. Another time maybe.
A day later, back home to normality and the Monday night session. The judo club had a visitor – Yoko Tanabe, one of the most decorated Judo players ever – came to run a session. I’m lucky. I just keep turning up to things, take the bumps and wonderful things happen. As I type I’m tired and lots of things ache. It seems unthinkable that in just over an hour it will be time to join the class and do it all again.
But I will.
See you down the road.
