No, What a Church Should Not Be...

Wow! What a week this has been. Are we in the UK beginning to see a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel? Or is the light ahead shining from another train some distance in front of us? And so, the headline of a newspaper blazes out that the rate on Covid-19 is falling, especially now that the vaccine roll-out is approaching 20,000,000 - around 27% of the UK's population of 66 million. On the same page, another article reads that the rate is actually rising again, hence popping the optimistic balloon of hope.

And so, I shared my concerns with the weekday Zoom prayer meeting. The response I received was that they were not pushing fake optimism, but rather seeing the numbers decline. This is encouraging to them and fan the flames of hope. Then another at the meeting reassured me that when, say, a move forward by three or four steps, one periodic step back is quite normal and to be expected. 

As far as I'm aware, the overall national infection rate is continuing to fall. However, the turnaround towards the wrong, upward direction looks to be mainly in the Midlands, such as Rutland, a landlocked county between Leicester and Peterborough, along with Bradley, Rochdale, Hartlepool, Leeds, Sheffield, Lincolnshire, and the South Coast port of Southampton.

Southampton.

However, with hospital rates continuing to fall across the nation and the corresponding fall of the death rate, especially among the elderly, this does indicate that the vaccine roll-out is beginning to take effect. Therefore, I may be not too surprised if the news carries a detail that, after more research, the rising rate of infections is more likely to be confined to people under 40 years of age, who are still waiting for their turn to be inoculated.

With glorious, spring-like wall-to-wall sunshine, caused by a wide circle of high pressure sitting over the UK, already, by mid-afternoon, the online papers are ablaze with the headlines that a large percentage of people, taking advantage of the good weather, are ignoring lockdown rules as they stream into parks and beaches. Not that I blame them at all. After all, if weeks of restrictions, cool and wet winter weather, many shops, pubs, coffee bars and restaurants closed, little wonder that "lockdown fatigue" has taken a hold on the majority of us, except for the few Covid Karens and Covid Kevins dotted around here and there - who are just too keen to pick up the phone to snitch on their neighbours enjoying a bit of fun outside.

Let's face it. Although the Police has warned of weekend patrolling of these outdoor venues to hand out fines to "the Covidiots" and disperse the crowds, nothing could be better for the immune system than to expose some flesh to direct sunlight, at least for thirty minutes, but here in the UK at this time of the year when the sun is not very strong, 45-60 minutes may suffice. As with me, before starting on this blog, I sat topless in our back yard under the warm sunshine for about thirty-forty minutes, reading the morning paper.

Yes, topless. Indeed, I may no longer resemble the Greek god Apollo (as I might have back in 1985-1990!) - this paunchy physique had benefitted without the casual tee-shirt I always wear, hence adding the sun's effort in producing Vitamin D to the other two sources: adequate diet and supplements, therefore, in addition to the first dose of the Oxford Astra-Zeneca vaccine, a suitable resistance (I hope) against the virus is built. 

This brings to mind the prudish attitude of Victorian England, where baring of the flesh was discouraged for the sake of decency. Little wonder that rickets was on the rampage, especially among children. This weakness of the bones resulting in bow-legs was caused by Vitamin D deficiency. Not to mention cardiovascular disease, cancer, asthma among children, and cognitive impairment, or dementia, among older adults.

During that time, those dark city winters with thick, coal-fuelled industrial and domestic fires emitting black smoke which hung in the air on a calm day, smog clouding out much of the sunlight during those cold and often damp mornings, together with the daily must-cover-up dress code, the Victorians made no connection between their meteorological and cultural environment - and the frequent rise of such illnesses. Who would have ever thought that such vitamin deficiency would bring such distress? Not to mention scurvy as well, caused by a lack of Vitamin C.

The dress code was founded on religion, mainly Christendom. Interesting for me it would be if all the medics under Queen Victoria's early part of her reign were to have discovered and agreed among themselves, that most, if not all of the illnesses rampaging through the city were caused by Vitamin deficiency, and particularly by the lack of the sunshine vitamin. And their remedial advice was to dress lightly during the summer, exposing areas of flesh to sunlight. Indeed, how would the population of the day react? Interesting indeed.

Would the authority of the Church have been questioned? Who knows. Would there have been a rise in atheism? Quite a point, that. Only last night I watched a YouTube documentary focused on the Bible Belt of the American Deep South, particularly in the States of Georgia and Texas. And to come clean here, I do not want to live in such an environment! Everything in life is centred around the local church. This includes the heavy stance against pre-marital sex, homosexuality, elective abortions, and evolution. Stern rules stand against non-Christian or secular music, and at school, each class begins with prayer. 

Divine Creationism is taught, but any evolutionary concepts are kept away from the students. And just as important as the rest, the moderate dress mode is mandatory. At first, all these issues look good, Biblical, and spiritually sound. But while I was watching the ad-free 40-minute video, I became aware of one underlining thought-stream - the feeling of insecurity, as if the whole system has to guard their participants against any form of threat, and that includes falling away, along with any teachings on evolution.

It's a kind of environment where, if a teenage offspring decides this lifestyle is not for them, then such a son or daughter would be disenfranchised from the rest of the family, particularly from the parents, and he would end up in Hell. As one chubby ten-year-old boy answered after he was questioned by the filming crew:

I'm afraid of Hell. If I were to leave my faith, yes, I'll end up in Hell.

I am a Creationist. But I also know a bit about evolution. In fact, as a teenager, I was a fan of the subject and I was free to study it. When I was converted to Creationism back in 1973, it was out of free choice and not by compulsion - the kind of choice which God always allows.

And talking about the moderate or smart dress, during my early years, I always had to dress in my Sunday best whenever my parents took me to church - and that was on special occasions, as they were nominal Catholics. Sunday Best consisted of a suit, a white shirt and tie. As I thought and felt, there was something seemingly unnatural about religion as a whole, although, just by itself, the smart dress would not have led to atheism as a mere single factor. Rather it was this, combined with the ongoing burden of earning my salvation by faith and works which, having proven unsuccessful, led towards my teenage hatred of God.

I have also noticed in the video, the men tend to be rather coarse in appearance, the Trump-voting, gun-toting, working-class male who would stop at nothing to condemn a gay man to perdition, and keep his own family under a strict regime, with an impression of his daughter discouraged, if not forbidden, to court a boy unless he first receives her father's approval. Then again, living in a warm part of the world, I have wondered whether this emphasis on dressing in moderation has led to lower Vitamin D levels, especially among the children. Furthermore and to my amazement, nearly all the men and many of the women shown on the video were also chubby, and not in the best of athletic fitness.

Why wouldn't I want to live in such an environment? Nor bring up my own children there?

Because, in the video, I saw little of God's grace through faith in Jesus Christ in practice, despite much emphasis on this grace through faith. Rather, what I watched was salvation by works, with the promise of eternal loss if not remaining in line and staying true to the faith. What I also missed was love, the agape love which God has for us and we can have through the power of the Holy Spirit in us. That was absent in the video.

Yet, I have always had a deep respect for America as a country as a whole. Although the only time I passed through Georgia was in 1978 while on a Greyhound bus from Miami to New York in readiness to board my flight home. But earlier on that same trip, I remember the extremely flat and apparently barren landscape of Texas. The Greyhound bus I was in travelled through until it stopped at Amarillo, where I alighted to spend a day there. 

But it was on my 1995 backpacking trip when I passed through Amarillo to alight at the next stop, which was at Albuquerque in New Mexico - which happened to be on a Sunday. After alighting at the bus terminal, I spotted a church, just as people were filing in. It turned out to be a large Methodist church. Although the sermon was rather vague, it was afterwards when I was noticed by a group of students. When I told them where I was from, and travelling alone across the continent, they were impressed. Then one of them bought me an after-service lunch, a full meal with which I sat at one of the tables with three of them. It was a gesture of hospitality I had never forgotten - proper agape love.

Methodist Church, Albuquerque. Visited 1995.

But the 1995 Albuquerque church visit was not the first experience I had with American churches. Rather it was in 1978 when I arrived at Portland in Oregon, after an overnight journey from San Francisco. After finding a hotel room and settling in, the next day being Sunday, I found a church - the First Baptist Church. After the service, a couple greeted me and, like the students seventeen years later, was impressed with my travels, and offered me a lift to their home for dinner. I spent the rest of the day with them before dropping me off at my hotel.

There are good churches, those who welcome a passing stranger and offered hospitality, and there are pushy churches that condemn gays, block students from learning anything about evolution, and liable to create a generation of atheists.

As for me, who am I to judge gays or evolutionists? To both, I would much rather pour out agape love and win them to faith in Jesus Christ. That's who they need - God's love and faith in Jesus Christ as Saviour and such love expressed to them through us. 

  

Sweet and Sour News?

I believe one significant occasion took place this week which had, to my mind, split the nation between the most devout among Royalists from those who favour Republicanism. And I reckon these two groups represent the more extreme margins of our society, very much like far-right and far-left wings of the political chicken. And the wider zone in the middle, the moderates, whose opinions are diverse enough, yet not to fall into extremity.

As such, I try to imagine a scenario that might have happened if I were to visit my parents this coming Sunday for lunch (that is tomorrow from the time of writing.) Dad, seated at the head of the table and still dominating it despite his age of 95 years. I would be sitting at the opposite end, facing him, whilst Mum sat to my left and my wife on the opposite side, to my right.

Halfway through the meal, I would ask him:

Dad, how do you feel about the Duke of Edinburgh walking unaided into King Edward VII Hospital and all the publicity? 

Prince Philip in his younger days.

It would have been quite likely that he would have given a sneering expression and maybe look towards me as if his eldest son was a little addle-headed. And then proceed to answer my question by asking: 

"Why should this man be given immediate access to a private hospital on a doctor's recommendation after a few days feeling unwell, while at the same time, there are thousands of cancer and cardiac patients left out in the cold, many with symptoms remaining undiagnosed, while many others had their scheduled operations cancelled and others died needlessly due to further cancellations?"

Such an answer delivered in the form of a counter-question would have been well in keeping with my father. Both he and Mum were Labour-supporting Republicans, and therefore, having a greater concern for the welfare of ordinary people than for the privileged members of the Royal Family or for the aristocratic world.

Poor Dad! I guess that he never had a proper understanding of English love for Royalty. How willing the crowds were in standing in the pouring rain to watch the floating pageantry pass by - as the Queen sailed along the River Thames in celebration of her 2012 Diamond Jubilee. The cold, wet June weather compromising her physical comfort enough to make her look miserable as she stood with stoicism under a flimsy-looking shelter erected over the boat, The Spirit of Chartwell, while at the same time, her husband, who was also on board, picks up a bladder-infecting bug. Oh, the irony of all this! Too bad that June 3rd, 2012 was the first wet day after a fairly long spell of warm Spring sunshine.

And so, the sight would draw in a crowd of devoted subjects to both banks of the river. And despite the huge numbers - a newspaper journalist was rather shocked to see all the spectators were white and British - "The Sea of White" - as he referred to them. Although we've watched it on TV in the comfort of our home, I knew my late father well enough not to be interested in the event at all.

As Prince Philip - just a few months from becoming a centenarian - remains in hospital, really, I have absolutely no issues with him. It's my view that throughout the whole of his life, the Duke served the country very well, with full devotion to his wife. Therefore I wish him a speedy recovery and still be with us when he celebrates his 100th birthday in June. As for the Queen, I think she had done a magnificent job in servitude, her loyalty to her duty has made her be without any reproach. 

But it's the system, the height of international importance behind the huge flotilla in the Thames during a cold, wet June day that had motivated many around the globe to turn on their TVs. The crowds of English people lining the banks of the river, whose shivering bodies covered with goose-pimples under a layer of sodden clothing, the forest of umbrellas, and perhaps the imaging of a hot coffee beside a roaring fireside, had failed to quell any excitement as the flotilla slowly sailed past. What is it about the British? I may ask. Indeed, I fail to recall any other country in the world putting on a show as spectacular as this Diamond Jubilee pageantry. With the Duke's bladder suffering an infection, he was quickly rushed into the private hospital to receive treatment with antibiotics. 

However, news of the Duke's admission into hospital just this week had aroused some unease among Republicans and even moderate Monarchists alike, as I read in a forum trailing a Daily Mail article on this issue. And the reason behind their discontent was that due to the high admission rate of Covid-19 patients into NHS care, there is a large number of non-Covid patients with cancer or heart problems who are at high risk of neglect, either by their GPs not around to diagnose their symptoms, or having their operations cancelled, with others not getting any treatment at all, and therefore they had already died.

And here's my point. During the Jubilee celebrations, when Prince Philip picked up an infection, he was dealt with straight away. The same applied to this week. After feeling unwell, he was immediately admitted as a non-Covid patient.  

The start of the Diamond Jubilee flotilla.*

And I speak from experience. In 2015, I had to have an aorta valve replaced, thus open-heart surgery. But had I, for some reason, suffered a serious delay and died, the terrible distress my wife would have suffered is beyond anyone's guess. Due to her neurological disability, she most likely would have either spend the rest of her life in care or with another family - unless fortunate enough to eventually remarry.

However, in more recent years, my beloved was diagnosed with breast cancer. Fortunately, not only was her illness discovered in good time but all stages of her treatment were completed in time before the pandemic struck. That means her mastectomy, her chemotherapy and her radiotherapy all came and went smoothly without any unnecessary delays. Just in time too. Her radiotherapy ended just before the March 2020 lockdown.

It was while she was an inpatient at Frimley Park Hospital, one Sunday, when Paul, one of my closest friends, said to me that had we lived a hundred years earlier, then I would have to watch my wife's cancer worsen, suffer intense pain and then die, with no known treatment available. So powerful was the statement, that I felt emotionally crushed, from which it took days for me to recover. 

I transferred such a thought to the present. What if Alex, suffering intensely in pain, had received one letter or phone call of one cancellation after another from the NHS, along with a stream of apologies and an explanation of inability to care due to a large influx of Covid patients? Then she dies, and I had to arrange a funeral. Then, just before her funeral, news comes in that Prince Philip, at 99 years old, felt slightly unwell and a doctor recommends a visit straightaway to a private hospital. Yes, how would I feel then? And how would any relative feel after the loss of a loved one to cancer, simply because no treatment was available, due to all hospital beds are taken up by Covid patients?

For me, it's the system itself and not the people in it. I have no desire to wish anyone ill, whether a VIP or not. And here's the crunch. VIP means Very Important People. Or, in other words, the lives of some people are more worthy to receive attention and be treated than the lives of others. This cultural idiosyncrasy, in itself, can wind me up tightly, especially on the issue of life or death, but for others, it's something akin to honour and therefore have all rights for respect.

That was the sour news. Now for the sweet news.

The rate of Coronavirus infections is falling, and quite rapidly, too. And thanks to the vaccine rollout, further falls in the hospitalisation and deaths. Alex had the Pfizer BioNTech vaccine three weeks before I was offered the Oxford Astra-Zeneca jab. But we're both immunised, at least for now. A second jab will be on its way three months after.

Lately, it's been my desire to pray and ask God not to take account for the sin of this nation and for the rest of the world, but to show mercy, even if it means we Christians act as priests to intercede to God on the nation's behalf, just as the prophet Daniel did for Israel and for Jerusalem, in the Old Testament of the Bible (Daniel 9:1-19.) This is one of two of the greatest prayers, in my opinion, which is found in the Bible, the other being Abraham's, recorded in Genesis 18:16-33. Both are intercessory, the pleading to God for mercy to a sinful nation or city for both God's glory and for the righteous living within.

I sincerely believe that Christians across the land have prayed on behalf of the UK for mercy and now their prayers are beginning to be heard. The vaccine rollout seems to be gaining success, with target numbers met. Who knows, it may not be too long before my beloved wife will be called up to receive the next stage of her cancer treatment, to rebuild her breast. Meanwhile, my cardiac consultations and monitoring can resume on a face-to-face meeting rather than through those wretched telephone calls with which I can't even self-diagnose properly due to lack of training.

And the ending of this present lockdown. Something, I think, many are looking forward to. At least I am. But according to recent polls, especially on the YouGov website where I actually partook. To them, a large percentage of the British population feels it's too early to be released from lockdown. I find this unwillingness to regain their freedom quite astonishing, as many seem to lack faith or confidence in the vaccine. Yet it takes all to make a world - anti-vaxxers, anti-masks, anti-lockdowns, anti-this or anti-that - all making their own noise but getting nowhere. Why not simply plead to God for mercy and trust in His goodness?

 Buckingham Palace during the Diamond Jubilee

As I wrote above, I have no animosity towards Prince Philip being called in for observations and treatment. Nor do I have any issue with any member of the Royal Family. Perhaps much of this is due to the signing of the Magna Carta by King John at Runnymede, on June 15th, 1215. This agreement has taken absolute power away from the Monarch and bestowed all authority on Parliament, hence the beginning of democracy. It was quite likely that King John was a miserable weasel, abusing his power and therefore disliked by the people. I thank God that our Monarch is nothing like King John.

As for Prince Philip Duke of Edinburgh, I wish him a speedy recovery and to see his 100th birthday.

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*Attempts to include a picture of The Spirit of Chartwell was blocked for security reasons.

Hit Bottom? The Only Way is Up...

It's one of those weeks. A week when I received a telephone call from my brother announcing the passing away of our mother. At 91 years of age, nearing 92, she died in her sleep whilst living in a home specifically for accommodating patients with severe dementia. The home was about ten miles away from where we live, so without a car, it wasn't quite "just around the corner."

She must have been in an awful state. No longer able to speak or understand English, she had reverted to her childhood Italian. Just as well my brother warned me not to go and visit. She would have not recognised me as her son but as a total stranger, and my brother feared that I would end up feeling very upset.

Indeed I would have been. She has memories of her late husband, our father, and she had never come to terms with his passing.

Suddenly the world had changed. I'm now the eldest one in what's left of our family.

As family relationships go, Mum and Dad always looked out for our affairs, even though quite often we clashed.  Show me a family by name where disagreements never occur, yes, then I'll be convinced that we were below average as a unit. As it was, we were as good as any other.

For example, when not at school, Dad gave me a set of multiplication to do as homework. Often I resented this, especially when other children can be seen playing in the street. Indeed, in the 1960s, children played in the street - football, cricket, made-up adventure games. You name it, they were happy in their participation.

Mum always made sure we were properly fed and clothed. During the week, both of them went out to work while we went to school. Between them, their budget wasn't at all great. Rather, they had to skimp and save. But they always made sure we had our needs met and we had the resources to enjoy life as best we can.

Then there was Christmas. Oh my, Christmas.

When my brother was just a toddler and I was a pre-teenage boy, how excited I became when I rushed into the lounge from our shared bedroom. One Christmas morning, probably in 1960, there was Dad's older brother standing at the head of our dining table with a train set laid out. In those days, train sets were powered by two batteries, and knowing Uncle, he was very strict with economising. As I got the train moving, after two or three circuits, this RAF Warrant Officer asked me a question:

If you had a box of sweets and you ate one after another, how many would you have left?

"Er, none left" I answered.

Well then. The same will happen with the batteries. Enough with the train!

Luckily, I had more presents to unwrap. One revealed a Lego set, and I spent much of the morning playing with that, having forgotten about the train set.

But in all, Christmas was always a family get-together. With the Christmas tree up, a real tree that is, with its lovely aroma, fallen needles making a ring on the floor surrounding the pot, and decorated with thin coloured glass baubles which smashed into pieces if accidentally dropped, the four adults, Aunt and Uncle, Mum and Dad, always merry among themselves, had always given us a time to cherish and remember.

Ah, those cigars Dad always smoked. The aroma, so Christmassy. The turkey and all the niceties which followed. Christmas pudding ablaze with burning brandy. The tangy taste of tangerines. Walnuts and hazelnuts to crack when it's my turn for use of the shared nutcracker. Crackers with paper hats, small trashy novelties and naff jokes, all down to adult responsibilities. All we children need to do is allow ourselves to be carried along in the flow, and enjoy the atmosphere.

Our Wedding Day, October 1999. My parents are on the right.

Now they are gone, all four adults who each played a role in looking after my little brother and me. With Mum's passing only two days ago, suddenly everything is different.

It's by the grace of God that I have a loving, understanding wife, whose shoulder she provided for me to bury with grief. If I had remained a singleton, I think it would be far worse. One of the most destructive emotions is an unhealthfully strong sense of loneliness. Even as a married man, I can't escape such emotion, that longing for my mother's reassuring arms once again and even Dad's A4 sheet of multiplications to solve. It's that possibility that I would never see them again and such memories will linger.

There is that silence, that awful silence, which not even music is can disperse. It's as if the whole world is now resting on my shoulders. Not that I loaded anything on my parents, heaven forbid, I was very independent and saw the Bank of Mum and Dad as something of an insult. But the difference is, that when she was still alive, she was there. Now an empty hole looms, a vacuum in the midst of a Coronavirus lockdown which I have hopes of seeing it end soon with the rollout of the vaccines.

Then I can go back to church and enjoy real worship and fellowship. Once again I can hug, greet and talk face-to-face. While a physical family is diminishing by natural causes, nothing is better than enjoying the warmth of a spiritual family, friends who are loyal to Christ and therefore each one of us is a brother and a sister making up the Bride of Christ.

Meanwhile, the best I can do is to stay close to God and to thank Him for the family I grew up in. And learn to thankfully appreciate each day of my life God has given. This includes essentials such as food, clothing and shelter. But with the niceties around us, many of them ornamental presents I bought for Alex over the years, indeed, this brings a homely cheer which helps in binding our marriage even stronger than we had possibly imagined.

The loss of my parents is sad, tragic, even. But we have God as our heavenly Father and through faith in Jesus Christ, we can boldly come to His throne. How wonderful it is, when God the Father sees us in the same way He sees his Son, with the imputed righteousness of Christ already in our accounts, we have much to look forward to.

However, I'm still writing this with sadness in my heart, sadness over the loss of our mother. I guess it will take a while before I'll get over it. Meanwhile, God is patient and understanding.

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This blog was written quickly. This is a result of my normal weekly contribution accidentally deleted when I have almost finished typing in the text. What happened, I don't really know. I just touched a key I shouldn't have touched. The whole text turned white on a blue background. I tried to return the page to normal and poof! The entire text deleted. Six hours of work gone, just like that. I had thoughts of abandoning this week's blog but decided at the last minute to re-write it.

 

What I don't understand is why, in this day and age, such technology doesn't have a safeguard against such accidents. A panel warning me of this and providing an opt-out prompt would have been very beneficial.

Therefore, if the flow of the text looks a little rough, it's because I squeezed six hour's writing into less than two hours.

God bless.

Ideas For Strengthening Immunity...

And so the rollout of the three vaccines to combat Covid-19 begins in earnest here in the UK from the start of January, and so a priority system based on age and vulnerability was set up, with the more elderly the first to receive the jab. High priority also includes the vulnerable, such as my wife who is a cancer patient. At the time of writing, she had her first of the two jabs two weeks ago.

Therefore it came as a bit of a shock to read on Facebook that one of my friends, a former college mate whom I knew since 1969, had also received his jab. Good for him. Indeed, despite feeling a pang of jealousy, I am still glad for him. Except that not only is he two weeks younger than I am but as far as I'm aware, he's in good health with no known disabilities or having previous health issues. The last time we were together was in 2019 when we visited the Science Museum in South Kensington - only for all of us to be evacuated from the building whilst in the middle of a meal at the museum's buffet restaurant, due to the siren sounding a false bomb alert!

Then my doctor friend, Andrew Milnthorpe, who is young enough to be my son, also received his jab earlier in the week. I'm beginning to wonder whether this age-priority system has really been put into practice, or was there a chance that I, at 68 years old, had slipped through the net. Fortunately, I had to visit the surgery myself to submit to an INR test to monitor my blood coagulation rate. It allowed me to ask the nurse whether it's possible to slip through the net whilst waiting for my turn to receive the jab.

She was adamant. She explained that the codification system would not allow me to slip through the net. At least that was reassuring. All I need is to exercise patience, one of the fruits of the Holy Spirit.

There are other exercises I can put into practice whilst waiting. Unfortunately, with the closure of all leisure facilities during the lockdown, I'm no longer able to swim, as I used to swim regularly twice a week. As for the gym, between the years 2015 and 2018, I attended up to three times a week for cardiac-related exercises, rowing on the modern version of the indoor rowing machine was the favourite, with the ability to endure for more than an hour. However, a couple of muscle injuries, including an ambulance trip to the hospital, was the reason to eventually wrap my gym schedule completely, the last rowing exercise was performed during Summer of 2020, after the easing of the first wave of the pandemic.

 Rowing machine I used frequently. Stock photo.

Therefore, there are two types of outdoor exercises I now normally carry out. These are cycling and walking, and the advantages are that they are free, and there are no time restrictions attached.

Here I will first look into cycling. 

I have always used the bicycle as a form of transportation since I was a teenager, and I used it primarily for riding to school. As an exercise, it's so beneficial that at one particular meeting which took place between three Hawaiian athletes back in the seventies, a discussion about which of the three disciplines resulted in greater fitness and health benefactor - Swimming, Cycling or Running? Unable to come to any agreement, it was decided to string all three together to form a new sport - the Triathlon. And that was the sport which dominated my leisure hours, particularly between the years 1986-1990. It was also during that era when, during the summer, early Sunday morning cycling "burn-ups" on clear, traffic-free roads leading out into the countryside were carried out before church at weekends when I didn't compete. Great stuff!  

Cycling to church as a means of regular transportation goes back to 1975 when I cycled to Bracknell Baptist Church. But when I started attending what was then Ascot Baptist Church (now Ascot Life Church) the 9-10 mile round trip became the weekly norm since 1990. With the first lockdown ushered in during March of 2020 and the complete closure of all churches throughout the last ten months, a "fitness gap" was formed which I had to find a way to fill in. Thus, the "ride to nowhere," very similar to the 1980s fast rides, was thought up, and such rides are purely for exercise.

One feature of interest became apparent when riding. How far am I cycling? What is the length of the chosen circuit? Fortunately for me, there are several routes near to where I live which has been accurately measured by the officials of Bracknell Athletic Club for staging road foot-races. One was the Bracknell 5, which was run on Boxing Day as a means to shed the pounds accumulated on Christmas Day. Not having a milometer fixed to the bike but already knowing the distance, it remains down to timekeeping.

This means by cycling four laps of the 2.5-mile 4 km circuit, I would cover 10 miles 16 km. Using my digital wristwatch, I timed the ride as almost exactly one hour. Thus my average riding speed is 10 mph 16 kph - only it's a lot faster on downhills and a lot slower going up! Thus, by using the wristwatch as a timekeeper, I'm able to calculate any distance covered.

I crack off ten miles 16 km at least once a week, sometimes even twice a week. During the winter, I tend to stay within the built-up area of the town, choosing a figure-of-eight route which is relatively free of traffic lights. Cycleways passing under rotaries regulated by traffic lights is a great asset here in Bracknell, which means I can ride the whole circuit almost entirely non-stop, and there have been non-stop riding done in recent weeks. By timing the ride, I was able to calculate the circuit as a little more than ten miles.

My mount is very similar to this one.

In the summer, as with last year, longer routes were enjoyed. We have roads leading through the countryside where open fields, bordered by hedgerows, grace the gently undulating landscape as the roads criss-cross to link neighbouring towns. I find riding alone in the sunshine so enthralling. Of course, it helps if I have instant availability of a drinks bottle at hand. My type of mount, a touring bike, is fitted with thick tyres, therefore flats are far less likely than with fast sport-racers. But carrying a puncture repair kit and appropriate tools is wise. Also ensuring that the tyres are inflated hard will make riding less energy-draining. I have found that inflating to 40-45 psi is ideal, but other cyclists often inflate up to 60 psi. Furthermore, moving parts such as the chain and sprockets should be well lubricated. I have found that the WD-40 oil spray is excellent for this.

As for walking, I can do this anytime, but it's usually on the days I'm not cycling. These can vary from thirty to ninety minutes. Fortunately, I'm blessed to be surrounded with nearby playing fields, woods and lakes. In the spring, Rhododendrons, for example, bloom with bright magenta flowers, and I find it so amazing such a splendid display announcing the ushering of spring, with summer to follow. As a Christian, I find prayer-walking does wonders to the spirit. I often start by thanking God for his wonderful creation.

By observing the rate of infection and how it correlates with the seasons, I have seen that the rise of infections began at late winter into the early spring of 2020, then fell as the warm weather of summer took hold. Then the rate of infections began to rise again as the weather cooled during the autumn and peaked again during the coldest part of winter to a level much higher than in the first wave. Several doctors on YouTube independently agree that lacking the sunshine Vitamin D weakens the immune system and thus more fall victim to the infection. With this realisation, we began to take more positive action, especially in what we consume.

As what to eat, having concern for our immune systems ranks high. From the start of January, both Alex and I take a vitamin supplement each day. This consist of a capsule of fish body oil which contains 300 milligrams (mg) of Omega-3. 

With the capsule, a tablet containing the following is taken, both with a glass of water:

Vitamin D - 25 micrograms.

Vitamin C - 250 mg.

Also, minerals such as:

Zinc - 10 mg

Selenium - 100 micrograms

Copper - 1,000 micrograms

Other ingredients include Ginger Root extract - 34.25 mg. 

This is quite a package in just one tablet but all the ingredients are specified to strengthen the immune system and to make the whole body more resistant to any pathogen infection. But other food contains nutrition which, together with other benefits, include eggs, another source of Vitamin D, along with milk (semi-skimmed) and fortified cereals (muesli is nice.) Also, I have a fondness for canned sardines. They contain goodness such as Protein, Vitamin B, Vitamin D, Vitamin E, and a trace of Vitamin K. As for fruit, we tend to have these fresh, such as oranges - rich in Vitamin C - apples and pears.

As for vegetables, because I'm on blood-thinning medicines (in the UK it's Warfarin) limits my consumption of green vegetables which contains a high level of Vitamin K, such as lettuce and cabbage, I find both cooked potatoes and raw carrots to be succulent. However, Brussel Sprouts on Christmas Day is a real treat. Rare treats also include chocolate, and if I'm with another person or group, then I would say "yes" to a McDonalds. But as for meals, pasta always remain tops, but risotto with sardines bathed in bolognese sauce - mm - waters my mouth anytime!

Only today I read in the Daily Mail that many pathogens in the past arose as they mutated and transferred from animals to humans. Ebola was one example. Also, the AIDS virus HIV was another example. Far deadlier than Covid-19, the Ebola virus started to mutate and transmit after an African tribal family caught and killed a chimpanzee to prepare for food, with the result that several members of that family became ill and died. Also, it is said that the HIV virus had first arisen when another chimpanzee was caught for food.*

When comparing this with the supposed wet market in Wuhan, China where bats were sold for food, then I am aware of the rustling of the pages in the Bible. In Leviticus 11, various animals were banned from human consumption, which includes chimpanzee and bat. Although the NIV and other newer translations add the words ritual, ritually unclean, etc, the KJV does not have such wording. Instead, the instruction was to be taken literally, Meat such as cattle, which are cloven-hooved and chew the cud, was okay to eat, along with poultry as we know it today. As with fish, only those with fins and scales were allowed to be eaten, according to the ancient Hebrews. Sardines are nice.

Risotto dish. I have mine with Sardines.

Although cooking techniques have greatly advanced since those ancient days, making pork, for example, safe to eat, nevertheless, by making use of God's Dietary Guidebook, the chance of spreading a virus and bringing on an epidemic, if not a pandemic, is greatly reduced. Certainly, a direction worth taking, especially when combined with plenty of exercises, will strengthen the immune system and go a fair way against infection.

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*Daily Mail Newspaper, Saturday, February 6, 2021, pp 22-23.