25 September 2011 (Sunday) - Kites over Capstone


I suspect my loyal readers are getting thoroughly sick of hearing about My Fitness Pal. But last night I think it’s fair to say that it exceeded the expectations of even its staunchest supporters. Yesterday afternoon I went fishing, and so I thought I’d see if that counted as burning up calories. It did – three hours of sitting on my bum exchanging insults with the Rear Admiral burned up 980 calories. I can’t see how that works, but if it says so on the Internet, it must be true.
Also that would explain why our bathroom scales told me that (despite having put on a pound yesterday), I’m four pounds lighter today. So I’m claiming those four pounds as vindication of dieting, and will give it another week.

We’d planned to go to Capstone Park for the “Kites over Capstone” event today. I spent a little while this morning (on the internet) trying to find when it started. I could find no reference to the festival on anything that wasn’t either just the name of the event, or was an argument about how rubbish the event was going to be on a kite-flying forum. The local council’s on-line advert for the day made me believe that the day was some sort of bicycle event.
I must admit I was suspecting the worst. It was no secret that many of “the usual suspects” of the kite flying fraternity had gone to other kiting events today: some actually driving past Capstone on their way elsewhere. And after driving thirty miles to the place, I was far from reassured by the stupid girl who met us on arrival. We found a huge banner advertising the event, and a girl standing by the banner, wearing a tabard marked “Event Steward”. I asked this girl where we should park. She seemed surprised to be asked, and thought for a bit. She had a vague idea that the event might be down the road somewhere; possibly on the right, but she wasn’t sure.

I could quite happily have gone home at that point, but we pressed on. We found where we were supposed to be, and where we needed to park. It was at this point that another half-wit in a yellow tabard directed us along a nearby lane. He assured us that would be closer to the kite flying if we followed his directions. I suppose that if you take the phrase “closer to the kite flying” to mean “a much greater distance away from the kite flying than this car park here”, then said half-wit was probably correct.

Eventually we met up with the rest of our contingent, and despite my earlier misgivings, a fun time was had by all. It was a good day, with a decent wind for flying kites (perhaps a tad too strong at times). As we walked in I had seen the stunt bikes doing their things, and I had planned to go have a look-see at some point. But in between flying kites and having a crafty kip, I never got round to it.
It was a really good day. I would like to do more events like this, but I suppose I have only myself to blame. Having made the decision to join a kite club which makes no secret that it is based sixty miles from home (the clue is in the name “Brighton Kite Fliers”), I really can’t expect the club events to be on my doorstep.  

And so home again. I think I must have caught the sun, as I can feel my face glowing. After a really good (619 calories) bit of tea, ‘er indoors TM went bowling. This exercise-diary nonsense has got so that I seriously considered going bowling with her to burn off some calories. But then I realised that going bowling would mean spending money I haven’t got doing something I don’t actually enjoy. So I fiddled about on the Internet instead…


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