Sunday evening : 10pm and race time. Greenwich foot tunnel and 4 goodgymers ran 10km in the tunnel. Starting every 5secs, 86 runners set off to run 27 laps of the tunnel. Crazy race with some zigzags as open to the public. Very hot and stuffy but a fun and crazy 10km. Goodgym Haringey and Goodgym Ealing Steph Ducat

10 Goodgymmers were suckered into lending a hand in Wood Green for a spot of tree maintenance, getting rid of epicormic growths on the plane trees along Lymington Avenue.

Finger-watch Galore

Big up for Maddie, our newbie at this task, who bravely announced she is a professional violinist just as we handed her sharp tools that could cut through fingers. Cue, of course, an evening of very stressful finger-watching. Maddie was a pro and took it all in good spirits. And no fingers were harmed in the making of this report. Phew. You can come again, Maddie.

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

This is a task that we enjoy coming back to every year. As Summer goes on, the suckers on the plane trees in London get a bit out of hand, and we are always happy to lend a hand keeping them under control in this corner of North London. Did you know that London Plane Trees are technically known as plantain trees? No, me neither.

Anyway, while the bulk of our Goodgymmers got on with the task of giving the trees a nice haircut, Neil and Sheril were in charge of a thorough litter pick along the same route. Our litter pickers' conversation was wickedly murderous in their contents which spread through the group like wildfire. So suffice to say it was a lot of fun but probably libellous so unprintable. But it did set us right in the mood for the one bloody incident of the evening when good ol' Gramps failed to spot a very thick and dried up bramble and got a massive cut on his head. Luckily, Latoya jumped into action, got a bunch of splinters out of his noggin, and patched him up real good. Not before giving him a comprehensive telling off, mind. Eeeshka.

Just before 8pm, newbie Maddie made the mistake of saying she was still full of energy, so we all endured a few minutes of wall sits, followed by a session of Sally (iykyk). None of our Goodgymmers even put up a fight, proving that we are all indeed suckers for punishment.

All in all, a lovely evening was had, if i say so myself.

Boom

The annual setting-up of the Tottenham Ten is a lovely task. A summer's wander round the marshes, noting down which plum trees are looking like a likely foraging spot later in the year. And occasionally pausing to see who's got any keep left signs left and smash them into the ground with a hammer.

Okay there's a punchline about More Than 1 Intended / More Than One In-(Tottenham)-Ten-Did. But I'm not getting there.

Anyway we then adjourned to the nearby Italian, to discuss the merits of different pizza bases.

Ten Goodgymmers journeyed deep into the heart of Haringey's latest tiny forest for a spot of dregrassification.

Olfactory Blues

Our Goodgymmers ran a cool mile to the New Road Park Tiny Forest as part of the Tiny Forest Wildlife Count. Friends of the tiny forest met us there and after a temporary misunderstanding around whether Gramps was going to foot the bill for all the Big Fat Cats bonuses at Thames Water, we were pleased when Mina from the Friends group turned up with tools, bags, and clear mandate for our lot: de-weed this poor tiny forest so the trees get more of the rain water into their thirsty roots - whenever it comes.

Say no more. Our Goodgymmers pulled grass, yarrow, and dandelions to their hearts' content, while discussing the merits of medieval mead-making and the evolutionary reasons of why a little bit of pain is good for you.

All the while, Gramps was keeping a beady eye on the lookout for any sign of wildlife. Sam came to his rescue, in a way, when she alerted him to, as she put it, a very faecaly smell in the area she was weeding. Reader, she must hit the vulpine scatological motherload because we all had to move away from the area. All newcomers were warned to avoid Sam's behind because of the faecaly smell - 'behind' used here purely in its geographical sense rather than anatomical and in no way for comedic purposes at poor Sam's expense. No. Never.

After about an hour, our heroes stopped for the evening after a rather successful weeding session and we all headed home satisfied with a good day's work.

Boom.

Join us for another tiny forest expedition next week as we visit the folk at White Hart Rec.