The following is Dave's leaving speech who for anyone unfortunate enough to miss the AGM is published with the kind permission of our retiring chair:

CHAIRMANS ANNUAL REPORT 1999.

Welcome to this years A.G.M.Those of you who had the pleasure of hearing my report last year may recall the general theme revolved around my new computer and my general lack of any ability to do anything with it. I’m sure you would all like to hear an update on the current situation. This years’ words of wisdom, I’ve realised sound much more like a medical report than the highly technical one I delivered last year. It seems a little ironic that after all that I said last year about my new computer, and how I was struggling to get to grips with it, that I’ve actually seemed to spend far more time typing on it this year than I have putting in any decent running mileage. This might not come as a total surprise to those of you who know of my dilatory, one fingered keyboard skills. However as a consequence of this, my typing speed has now shot up to something above ten words per minute, whilst at the same time my running speed seems to have declined proportionately to something approximating a geriatric tortoise. This feeling was confirmed just the other day when I was overtaken on the old railway line by a bloke wearing massively baggy khaki shorts, a bry-nylon collared shirt, and what appeared to be hob-nailed boots, looking like something from "It ain’t half hot mum". I gave chase, but to no avail. After years of relatively injury – free running I’m finally feeling that age is gradually beginning to get the better of me. Since I damaged my ankle at the Trunce in June and again on the Thurlstone Chase in July, I’m currently having to resort to taking pills to ease the situation I now find myself in. I’m currently taking those little white ones that look like Smarties doctor. I unfortunately seem to have developed a condition commonly known as "early morning stiffness"– something which fellow veteran runners may be able to relate to. It has nothing to do with the drug Viagra by the way, although I’m led to understand that they are putting it in the tea-urn in the old folks’ homes to prevent the old fellas from rolling out of bed [allegedly]! In the past few weeks prior to my taking the tablets I’ve found myself rolling out of bed and waddling downstairs in the morning to make the tea moving like a heavily pregnant duck. This performance usually goes on for about half an hour until the little white pill starts to work.

Talking of ducks my summer holiday to Orlando to visit Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck didn’t help my cause, as the temperatures of 90 odd degrees weren’t at all conducive to mounting a renewed get-fit campaign, but more a get-fat campaign. As my friend Keith Darlow [whom some of you will remember having presented last years Trunce prizes] once remarked, I did however somehow manage to keep up two thirds of my former rigorous training regime- namely the eating and the drinking. The only total eclipse witnessed by myself and family in Florida was the total eclipse of the feet by the ever-expanding abdomen. You didn’t need to wear any special glasses in order to watch it happening either.

I trust you all realize that you now not only have a chairman who not only can’t chair meetings but also a fell-running secretary who at this point in time can no longer run on the fells.

As a result of all this my last 3 races have resulted in lifetime personal worst times, which comes as a bit of a shock after 20 years or so of running, striving to run personal best times. I even recently found myself as no longer the fastest doctor in the surgery in one race, leading to a certain amount of ridicule amongst staff at work. Just to make matters worse some of my more junior partners at work have just formed a young practitioners social group from which I have been excluded on grounds of age. One of my patients talking to the receptionists the other day referred to me as "that middle-aged doctor" which certainly doesn’t help matters. Rather interestingly, every time I type the word Penistone into my computer the machine alters it to read Pension- thereby sending out subliminal messages obviously trying to tell me something – like maybe it’s time to start collecting it! I still haven’t found a way to stop it happening.

I did read an interesting, although somewhat gruesome, article the other day in the Times newspaper concerning a new technology in America [where else] which enables a neurosurgeon there to transplant a human head on to somebody else’s body! You apparently only need about 800,000 pounds and you can have it done– all a bit bizarre you might think. However I was wondering if perhaps my head could possibly be grafted onto Michael Johnson’s’ body, thereby restoring my speed and youthful torso to it’s former glory! It would certainly give me one hell of a sprint finish.

A few years ago I once wrote to Ron Hill, whom I sure most of you will know as one of England’s’ finest ever marathon runners. He used to write a column in his running magazine called "Ron Hills Ramblings". However for month after month he used to write reams and reams about his injuries and lack of fitness, so much so that I wrote to him suggesting he re-name his column "Ill Ron’s Grumblings" instead of "Ron Hill’s Ramblings". I received a nice autographed letter back from the good doctor himself, apologising for going on about his injuries –I now realise I’m beginning to sound just the same.

I have actually wondered about an alternative career in journalism, now that I seem to have eventually mastered the computer keyboard. The last Penistone Footpath Runner to have an article published in The Fellrunner magazine was I think Syl Boler-I’m sure some of you will remember her. Since then she has subsequently managed to retire from running, finish work, go back to university, move in with a rich hairy bloke called Brian and apparently leads the "life of riley", nearly all of which sounds quite tempting.

I feel that one of my more worthwhile contributions to the club this year has been the production of a comprehensive document entitled "A Blue Peter guide to mountain marathons", which I did for two of my younger colleagues at the surgery shortly before they embarked upon this summer’s Saunders Mountain Marathon. Some of you may have read it and recognize some of the characters mentioned in it –I’ve given Roy a copy, downloaded onto floppy disk I might add, for the next Hill. However one of our well known club runners, who’s name rhymes with "Bummer", perhaps neglected to read it prior to last weekend’s Lakeland mini- mountain marathon. He decided that the best way to prepare for one of these events was to toddle on out to the local hostelry the night before the event, consume vast quantities of the landlord’s finest ale, unwittingly sleep the night rough on a female friend’s lounge floor, only to wake up the next morning 10 minutes after the proposed departure time, nursing a humungous hangover. Needless to say this tactic did not pay handsome dividends. By the way, his spotty running partner for the day [name rhymes with Silly Nibbins], ex P.F.R. member, wishes to announce that he is not harbouring an infectious disease and in fact never was. This is despite nasty, vicious gossip to the contrary that was being spread about by many of the clubs’ amateur dermatologists and venereologists who proffered a variety of wrong diagnoses. The moral of this story is that if you want to see a quack, you’re better seeing one who’s actually qualified to talk rubbish, than one who isn’t, as their idea of confidentiality, as witnessed by me, comprises of shouting across the crowded pub "How’s the spots today Willy!"

My wife Ann has obviously got tired of hearing me moan about my various aches and pains and after hours of extensive research has decided that the answer to all my ailments is simply a couple of magnets strapped to my left wrist. It’s called the Bioflow wrist strap and is available right now for 50 quid from an even bigger quack in Sheffield. It’s been suggested that if, at my next race, I could spot the potential race winner and manage to slip a largish magnet into his bum-bag then I might be able to whiz round behind him in tow, so to speak. I’ve agreed to wear it for a while to appease my dear wife, before ultimately asking the quack for my money back. It hasn’t yet cured my early morning stiffness but maybe I’m not wearing it in the right place! If and when I do get back to fell-running the wearing of a couple of magnets on the wrist certainly ought to make for some interesting compass navigation. Perhaps my wife has decided that it being the case, I might run round in ever decreasing circles, fall into the nearest peat-bog, so she can claim on the life insurance, run off with that nice salesman from Bioflow, into the setting sun and live happily ever after.

One brief highlight, if I can call it that, of this years’ running calendar for me, was an eventful weekend in the Lakes supporting Andy Plummer’s attempt to be the first Penistone runner to get round the infamous 72 mile in 24 hours Bob Graham Round. Most of you will have heard of it, I’m sure. I’m not sure whether Andy has written anything about his efforts for publication, so I’ll briefly tell you the story from supporters’ perspective. Setting off from Keswick at 7p.m.with 6 other Dark Peak contestants, everything did actually seem to be going according to plan for the first 12 hours or so. Andy seemed to be running very strongly until the weather took a rather severe U-turn for the worst, resulting in gale-force winds and torrential rain. At Wasdale, where, after 15 or 16 hours of running Andy regretfully was persuaded gave up his attempt, conditions were becoming a tad difficult, if not dangerous. At this point, having already run the 6 hour night section over the Hellvellyn range, I stood waiting with the aforementioned Willy Gibbins, to begin the final 8or 9 hour section back to Keswick. Having rather dejectedly just removed my loaded rucksack following Andy’s retirement, I then saw Willy running down the road with an unknown runner shouting "come on Dave, we’re going’ and off we went up the side of the next hill,Yewbarrow, leaving Andy behind at Wasdale. It quickly became clear we’d made a rather hasty mistake in even setting off with this character. The remaining Dark Peak Runners at Wasdale thought better of it and refused to go on with him. Unbeknown to us it later transpired that it was in fact this chaps first ever fell race. Some months earlier he’d given up smoking 40 cigarettes a day, he’d had no beer for 6 months, and shed 3 stones in weight especially for the occasion. You couldn’t therefore fault his commitment, which certainly overwhelmed his common sense. It seemed he’d been allowed an attempt by the Dark Peak club as he had ownership of a very large van, which was subsequently used as a back-up vehicle come soup kitchen for the runners. We eventually wisely abandoned the run 2-3 hours later in foul weather and headed for the Inn at Wasdale. We then found ourselves marooned for the next 8 hours in the pub. Now to some of you that might sound O.K., except that by now we were soaked, tired, freezing cold and fed-up, and what’s worse we didn’t have a penny between us to buy a drink. Mobile phones don’t work too well up there either so we were unable to contact any of the other club members who were also stranded in various godforsaken places, waiting for us to arrive. We finally made contact with the others shortly before the mountain rescue team set off to search for us! We all hope for Andy’s sake for better weather during next years planned attempt. If anybody here is overweight, smokes and possess a big van, I would suggest you keep quiet, as you might just find yourself doing the Bob Graham next year!

Now after all that I would like to say just a few brief words about the club itself. I feel that it has been a good thing this year that the club’s races this year have been organized to a large extent by a different set of people than in preceding years. The Hill Race, Thurlstone Chase and the Show race all seem to have been once again staged successfully. The Penistone 5 mile road race too apparently went of without a hitch, unless you count a large herd of rampant dairy cows intermingling with the race runners. We’re grateful once again for the support of Lavender International for their continued assistance with the Show Race. Clarks Brewery, who are tied to the pub here, helped us financially with the Thurlstone Chase- I’m led to believe that Ian the landlord here is going to be on the start line next year for the millenium race, so hopefully they will support us once again.

I noticed once again the issue of Penistone community sports development reappeared on the front page of The Barnsley Chronicle last week entitled "More cash sought for sports scheme". Some of you may have noticed the rather bemused, fell-running type dog, with a nice neckerchief, who seems to be in charge of the bid. From the article it would seem that there is still a chance that eventually a new centre may be built- until that time I guess we’ll have to keep dodging the cars down at the sports centre.

Anyway, by now I feel I’ve probably said sufficient. Many of you will be relieved to hear that this is to be my last report as chairman. I feel that now is an appropriate time to stand down and hand over the role to someone else, with perhaps a few new ideas, in time for the new millenium. I currently manage to get down to the club-nights on Tuesdays wherever possible, but due to various changes at work and other commitments I don’t feel I appear there as often as I would like. Whether that actually matters to the club members I don’t really know, but it does matter to me personally. Having said that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my 5 years as chairman and hope to be able to continue to support the club in whatever capacity I can. I believe I’m one of the few life-members so it would seem that there’s no way out as yet! When I eventually retire from work on the grounds of ill health I’ll probably get down much more often! I’ve even discussed with Roy the possibility of my helping him with the club magazine – now that I’m so versatile on my computer keyboard. This may necessitate a change of name however for the journal from "The Hill" to "The Pill".

I understand there is in actual fact a willing replacement here amongst us for the honorable chairman’s post. He has in fact already demonstrated a capacity for leadership once appearing as the great and inspirational leader, William Wallace at a Christmas handicap. You may not have actually recognized him with so much hair on his head! He also led the Penistone Footpath Runners formation dancing team this year, down at Langsett Barn, into a splendid "Full Monty" routine, the like of which has never been seen before. Ladies please note, they should get their names down immediately for this years’ Christmas party at the same venue, as tickets are apparently selling fast to former Chippendale fans. He also appears to regularly lead the unofficial P.F.R. pub quiz team to glorious defeat every Tuesday here in the Huntsman. He also displays one of the essential skills necessary to be a successful Chairman, namely a totally clueless approach to tent erection. I think this would therefore put him firmly ahead in the recent opinion poll [grand survey of two], for the leadership post. The election, so to speak, takes place shortly.

I would finally like to wish my successor best wishes and offer him right now any help that he might require with regard to keyboard skills as well as the benefit of my extensive knowledge with regard to tent non-erection. I would also like to thank both Pauline and Martin for their support during my years as Club Chairman. Please don’t anybody propose my name for either of their positions.