Wednesday, 28 June 2023
Today I woke feeling poorly. Nothing serious, just the result of having too much alcohol and getting up too early yesterday. It’s my fault and no-one else’s. I know I have to change, or I will never know if I’ve got it within me to do a PhD, I will never know if there is a better future for me, all I will know is a life of pain, dreams, and unfulfilled talent.
Today is the funeral of my friend Mick Fryer. Mick was a good friend and a great photographer of runners, especially fell runners. Mick would pop up all over the place and capture you when you looked your worse. Mick will be greatly missed by all who knew him. RIP Mick Fryer.
St Matthews church, Northowram, was packed for Mick’s funeral. I sat at the back with some friend’s, there was so many people were standing outside. Later on, someone said there was over 300 people in attendance. As the vicar, wisely said, it wasn’t about making things better, but making things less worse. The service was lovely, with readings from friends and family about a man who loved life and lived it, loved his family, friends, running and has beloved Halifax Town. You learn so much about someone at a funeral, their earlier lives, their passions, what makes them who they are, or were. It makes you want them back so you can talk about everything you have learned about them and go on more adventures with them, but it’s too late now, which is why we must all make the most of the time we have here because it can come to an end all too soon and then all we have our, are memories and there’s no chance to make anymore.
After the service I went straight to Heath Rugby Union club for the celebration of Mick’s life. Some went to the crematorium, but I decided to go straight to Heath as I’ve spent enough time in crematoriums recently. Heath was packed with all of Mick’s friends talking about Mick, running, football and his photography. It was a fitting send off to a good man who will never be forgotten. As the afternoon came to a close I gave two friends a lift home and got told off by one for the state of my car! It was expected and warranted as my car is a mess due to my single, male, lifestyle!
I got home and I was shattered. I wanted to go to bed, but I had promised a mate I would go to the Cragg Vale fell race that evening and give him a lift home. I had tried to get out of it but I couldn’t, so after a cup of strong coffee, I set off over to Cragg Vale for an evening of fell running.
I got to Cragg Vale just as people were arriving for the race and immediately I was talking fell running, or in my case injuries, with everyone. The tiredness disappeared as I met up with old friends for a chat and soaked up the atmosphere of a local fell race, people walking about, talking about fell running and life, people enjoying themselves. I had forgotten how friendly and inclusive the fell running community is, but I was reminded on the night as I chatted away to people I had never met before as if I had known them all my life. I felt valued, a part of this community, I felt human.
Cragg Vale fell race is a typical short, steep, Yorkshire fell race, straight and down, over 4 miles of varying terrain. My mate from Calder Valley won the race in around 27 ½ minutes, before the flood of runners came through behind him, covered in sweat, gasping for air. It seemed like it was all over in a flash, although it didn’t feel like that for the runners, and we all went back for the winners presentation in the nearby church, the presentation taking twice as long as the race!
Then it was over. I gave my mate a lift home and we chatted all the way. Despite it being a sad day with Mick’s funeral, it had been a good day, celebrating life, talking to old friends and new ones and me realising what is important to me and the kind of people I want in my life. And to top off a good I didn’t have a single drop of alcohol.
The Autistic FellRunner 