Sunday run: Blairgowrie.

It was a perfect summer morning, sun ablaze over the bay and just a gentle breeze to stop the heat getting too oppressive.

We started at the house and jogged gently down to Tyrone Beach near Murray Street, then along the beach past Blairgowrie village and the yacht club.

People and dogs were enjoying the early morning air, there's a lot of dog lovers down that way. On any day you will usually see labradors, golden retrievers, schnauzers, poodles, germand shepherds, spaniels, terriers of various types and the occasional boxer.

We left the beach, and ran back down the highway towards Blairgowrie, turning right at the village and through the maze of streets back home. I finished off with a 100 metre sprint to the house, then ran back a kilometre or so to catch Tracy, then repeated the sprint finish.

And that was this week's Sunday run. It sure makes lunch taste good. (And the coffee at the Blairgowrie cafe - excellent.)

Try this session some time.

This is a particularly difficult one.

The usual warmup:

Run three laps (400m) gently. Stretch gently for five minutes.
Run two laps. Stretch five more minutes working through all the muscle groups.
Run one lap. More stretching.
Three 100m stride-outs (75% effort), walk back to the start.
50m high knee lifts (raising kness as high as possible) and 50 high back kicks (kicking leg back towards your butt as far as you can). 100m side strides (runnning sideways, alternating sides to swap leading leg).

OK, you're warmed up.

Now, run 6x1200 metres with three minutes break in between each.

Pace is strong but with sufficient in reserve to get you through the session. If you feel yourself flagging, think about your form and concentrate on keeping your hips high, your arms at 90 degree and your head high.

When you're done, do a ten minute cooldown jog and stretch for 10 to 15 minutes.

It's a tough session but somebody has to do it.

You.

Fighting like cats and dogs. No. Fighting like humans.

Seriously, some people are totally nuts.

Barking mad, if that doesn't insult dogs.

Check out this from today's Herald Sun:

DOG lover Deborah Parkhouse has spent $87,000 building a pooch palace for her adopted afghan hounds.

But the cat lover next door threatens to destroy this doggie haven.

There's a cat lover and a dog lover living next door to each other. Kind of OK so far, it is in the country.

Cat breeder Alcira Crosby has complained the howling dogs disturb her peace; and the local council has ordered the doghouse be moved.

Now just hold on a minute. The complainer ... is a cat breeder?

That I have a problem with. The country is overrun with feral animals feasting on native wildlife and this woman is ... breeding more.

Let's compare that to what the poor dog woman is doing. What the poor dog woman is doing is picking up the pieces after humans have dispensed with these innocent and beautiful creatures. After they have admired their regal features but got sick of looking after them. After they have turfed them into the RSPCA or the Lost Dogs' Home to be put down, their bedraggled hair uncombed, their pack instincts of running for joy in the field sadly unfulfilled.

Except they won't be put down, because this angel-woman has saved them.

So, we have in one house, someone manufacturing cats for humans and in the next door house someone saving animals from humans. So you know who's in the right already. I mean no argument, right? Any talk of noise or inconvenience is just talk, right?

No. The case is going to the Victorian Civil and Administrative Tribunal.

The cat woman says this: noise from the afghans (and three terriers and a trio of cats) is driving clients away.

'Clients'? How about the 'clients' go to the Greensborough Cat Shelter where they can have all the cats they want, abandoned by humans. But no, we have to have another human manufacturing more cats.

'Clients', presumably going there to buy animals, object to the sound ... of animals. 'Oh excuse me, I heard a dog bark, goodbye.' Yeah sure, that's likely. My god, I hate that word 'clients'.

So let's see what the cat woman and her 'clients' object to.

The "shed", as Mrs Parkhouse describes the doghouse, has thick concrete floors; the walls and ceiling are insulated for temperature and noise.

The flue from the dogs' stove is fixed inside the roof, and a front porch allows them to gaze down on the ornamental lakes in which they swim.

"I am not moving the doghouse," Mrs Parkhouse said yesterday. "It would cost twice as much as it already has to build, and it would be virtually impossible anyway."

Mrs Parkhouse built the shed especially for her pets' comfort on 12 hectares bought in 2001.

"Some people would say it is extravagant, but I wanted something they considered comfortable and, I thought, humane housing for large dogs," she said yesterday.

This is heaven on earth for dogs, but God's creatures deserve it. Abandoned by bad humans, they finally enjoy some of the pleasures many humans will not enjoy. In classical Greek philosphy and literature this is called nemesis.

And cat woman wants all this to end because 'clients' might object to a dog bark. And what is the spineless local council doing when it should be fixing roads and collecting rubbish?

Macedon Ranges Shire has intervened to impose conditions on the annual permit that allows Mrs Parkhouse to keep her nine canine companions.

These cover feeding and exercise times and the location of their house.

When someone complains these days, everyone listens. Even the local council.

But Mrs Parkhouse argues the council has no jurisdiction to order changes to her permit and that the conditions are unreasonable. "The irony is that I have done everything by the book, when I really need never have bothered," she said. Mrs Parkhouse said she had lived alongside her former good friend for two years before their dispute flared this year.

She's done everything right, but some whinging loser complains, so her entire benevolent, altruistic venture is thrown into doubt and chaos. Like, Happy Christmas, neighbour!

Mrs Crosby's complaints have brought her her own council woes – officers are investigating whether her cattery requires a planning permit.

Yeah, well, what goes around comes around. Let's hope it's goodbye, cat manufacturing business.

And goodbye 'clients'.

Good riddance. Hey Towser, here's a nice bone for you and one for all your shaggy friends. Enjoy.

Return of the Sunday run.

I've done a few of these in recent months, but none as long, and none in such heat.

We started at Aberfeldie Park next to the running track, headed over to the river and struck out along the river path westwards. This is truly one of Melbourne's most picturesque locations.

The hills started about 2 kilometres out with a series of switchback rises leveling out at a point overlooking the Maribyrnong valley. Superlative views. A kilometre further along, we descended again into the Steele Creek valley, ran another couple kilometres, and rejoined the Maribyrnong after another huge climb and descent.

The next eight or so kilometres were relatively flat, following the river from Maribyrnong (the suburb) well into Avondale Heights and almost reaching Keilor. The track here is heavily treed and it feels like you are running in the country. It could be anywhere.

Then, we turned around. Around this time, the sun broke through the cloud and it started getting really hot. It was hard to hold the pace. The last couple of kilometres were very hard and I was getting really thirsty - don't want to get heat stroke.

Headed straight into the cold shower, drank about a litre, cooled down and stretched with the others for about half an hour.

That's the best Sunday run for a long time.

Running hills at the Tan.

We met at Anderson Street (Royal Botanical Gardens, otherwise known as the Tan) for a nostalgic 'hills' session. I haven't run here for many years, and I had of course forgotten how hard this session is. So I was looking forward to it.

I drove into East Melbourne, found parking restrictions had been further tightened and drove back to the Treasury Gardens. That meant a warmup jog of about an extra kilometre. The Tan was extra busy with serious runners, casual joggers and people just out walking. I met the group at the Tan starting their warmup. We did about twenty minutes of jogging, stretches and strides, then started.

On each repeat, we ran the entire side of the Gardens, right up to where the path turns the corner into Domain Road. It's a relentless climb to the peak and then you try to maintain a good pace over the top to the downward curve.

Ten Anderson Street hills later, I was spent. Some of the group were going over the river to Olympic Park to watch the Zatopek 10k on the track. I went home, walked the dogs around the block and then had dinner.

Storm damage.

Took the dogs down to Merri Creek last night - it seems to have disposed of the dump within twelve hours, with just a few parts of the pathway washed away.

The papers this morning were full of news and pictures and the damage it caused.

Had it broken just a few hours earlier than it did (between 1am and 3am) it may have pushed the Latham acendancy off the front page of the previous day's Melbourne Sun - 'Mr Clean' ran the headline, with Latham promising no more foot-in-mouth gaffes or obscenities. It was hugely valuable front page for Latham. Mind you, a previous reputation for being loose-lipped didn't seem to hurt Jeff Kennett much after his rise to power - Latham may find himself in the Lodge next year.

Apres moi, le deluge.

Or la, bit creaky on my French.

Anyway - back to Merri Creek. The dogs were excited, there were rabbits everywhere. So we know where to take them to give them a really good workout. Half the time Billy the lazy greyhound doesn't want to go very far at all.

I jogged for about half an hour and dropped in a few sprints on the hills. Very easy session.

Record rain as storms upset the dogs.

Tuesday night's session was 10 x 300 metres on the track, two lots of five with a ten-minute rest. Got through it OK, a little slow perhaps, but running conservatively. Don't think I could have run much faster though.

Thunder and lightning started early afternoon, broke for our training session (convenient) and then resumed and continued throughout the night.

Goldie the Brittany does not like storms at all. Billy's OK with them. Goldie darts about, panting as if she's been out for a run. She just won't settle during a storm. After a while she was OK and then just fell asleep I guess. I slept well after the tough session.

In the morning, I took the dogs out for their usual walk, there was a lot of water about with garden beds washed away, etc. Seems there had been 120mls of rain, not sure what that is in inches, in two hours - some kind of 100 year record. Tonight we'll walk the dogs at Merri Creek to see if it has broken its banks.

Wild weather at Portsea.

Portsea back beach was wild with thunder, rain and lightning on Sunday morning as we set off along the sand for a run.

The weather was strange - cloudy one minute, blistering hot sunshine the next. The wind was squally and seemed to be ever changing direction.

After a good warmup, the session consisted of diagonal sprints up the beach to the foreshore. They get increasingly difficult as you move from hard sand to softer sand up the beach. A gentle jog back down the beach and repeat fourteen times.

The sprints are hard but short enough so that you don't end the session feeling drained. You do feel it next day though, with upper quads and hips taking the heat.

Afterwards, I plunged into the swirling ocean as the heavens broke open. It's quite a dangerous beach - the flags were up and the lifesavers were having an induction day for their juniors.

An hour later found us at an outside table at the Blairgowrie cafe having a hard earned coffee with the dogs at our feet. Then it rained again.