Marathon day.

My regular reader will know that I’ve been training for the London Marathon this year, (although not wanting this to become a running blog I’ve not done many posts on it recently) but you’ll have spotted on the twitter feed to the right that I’ve spent the morning not running the London Marathon. A couple of runs ago I had some pain in my knee, and then it got worse, and I had some physio and it got a lot better, but still not right at all, so I decided to hand in my number and I’ll do it next year.

Although I’m sure I would have got round, had I dosed myself up with painkillers, and gritted my teeth, I feel I have nothing to prove by running marathon number 6. I had one goal this time, and that was to break through the 4 hour barrier (the right side of 4 hours that is) and I was pretty confident that this was not going to happen today. Another years training, and no injuries in 2011 and I’ll do it easily.

Harder though was deciding not to go and watch – the wife was running, and I got up early to give her a lift to kennington (after suffering the so called “rail replacement” bus which did nothing of the sort yesterday I didn’t want her to have to struggle just to get to the start), but we agreed that I could stay at home and get the washing up done, and have another go at the pitifully easy unless you are me third level of Tom Clancy’s HAWX. (I get great value out of computer games, by virtue of being absolutely awful at them).

Imagine wanting to do something, finding you can’t, and then going to see 30,000 other people doing it. Even if a dozen of them are friends and one you love more than anything else in the world – I just didn’t fancy it. So I stayed in, put my feet up, caught up on a load of telly and wrote this.

Anyway – I’m off to mow the lawn. I’ve had a text off the wife – she knocked a couple of minutes off her PB, which is awesome, and means she can do London for the next two years.

women, run raster!

I’ve only twice ever beaten my wife in races, and both times, she was really unwell, so they don’t count. In every other event we’ve run together, I’ve usually seen her getting further and further away, until she is a little black and white speck in the distance.

In the latest of these – the Cabbage Patch 10, a pleasant 10miler up and down the Thames – I had a bit of time to think about it. Why am I slower than my wife? She’s got shorter legs, less muscle and she’s a girl, and girls have always been slower than boys by about 10%. I have no excuse.

Or do I? In one hour and 26 minutes, I had a lot of time to think about why our ladies aren’t regularly beating our men, and I don’t get it.

Girls are smaller than boys, so therefore have less to carry round the distance. Remember all the tiny (by height) weightlifters at the Olympics? Its all about power to weight ratios there, and the same should be true with running. I’m slower than her because despite my best efforts I weigh over 12 stone, and she weighs less than 9. If I was 25% lighter, it would be 25% easier to run.

Girls, by virtue of being smaller, are also more aerodynamic. My broad man’s shoulders, wide, lovehandled midriff, massive thighs and big spiky hair, can surely be only causing enormous wind resistance, not to mention my ears, which despite the best efforts of Chepstow’s finest plastic surgeons, are still far from flush against my head. You know how a formula one racing car is all pointed at the front – Girls come with two ready made pointed bits at the front, specially designed to help them cut through the air.

Evolution will have also enabled girls to become natural runners, as they will have spent their entire lives running away from men, as if they were caught, the natural brute strength of the man would win through, (don’t hate me for thinking of this, we’re talking cave men here) so in the last million years, surely women should have evolved a natural speedy defence against (sexual) predators.

Men also have an enormous natural disadvantage, when it comes to running, two in fact, in the shape of testicles. Watching the world gymnastics championships, it would appear that the events have been adjusted to protect the testicles of the men involved, and this has become another reason that man and women aren’t able to compete on a level playing field. I say allow the men to compete against the women on the beam, and penalise them (hurrah – appropriate use of the word penalise!) if they don’t do the landing on their butts and swinging the legs behind and moving to a handstand. If they do, and they can do the rest of the bouncing around as well as the girls, give a guy the beam gold medal – he’ll deserve it. Having a pair of balls swinging around, getting in the way of the legs, which are after all the most important aspect of the running equipment. What do the girls get in that area? Nothing but a little natural lubrication.

Add to this small feet (less blisters), long hair (better removal of sweat from the face), less leg hair (wind resistance again) and I’m amazed I’m not getting beaten by all the girls in the race, not just most of them.

So, to conclude, I’m going to race against the men from now on. I have no excuse for the fat guy I saw enjoying a cigarette at the end of the Thanet 20, while I’d still not got to the 19 mile mark.

I'm getting old - but not there yet.

I’ve realised I’m getting old – I’ll come to the symptoms later, but I’m not young any more. Ask me how old I am and I’ll actually do a mental calculation based on my date of birth. I don’t include the quarters or halves any more (although I did relatively recently – I think turning 30 killed that one off).

Yes – here I am – a guy in his early thirties, married and settled and not really wondering what to do next. Kids aren’t really on the horizon (although many of my friends are now totally in the family way, (one of my best mates just popped number 2 and 3 – twins – a boy and a girl – I can’t imagine what they are going through!) and of the 5 of us who were in our student house, we have 6 kids between us, ranging from fresh to primary school (and one Artemis Fowl book away from being a full on evil genius – she’s got the genius aspect down pat)) which is fine by me. I have far more interesting things to do at the moment (which doesn’t mean that what my friends are doing isn’t interesting – I have to be careful with such statements – like when I suggest that my life is more than just running marathons – am I implying that other’s lives aren’t?) oh my goodness – I’ve just had to count up all the brackets so I know how many I need to close now... I don’t need to close any – just a full stop will do.

I have more than my fair share of grey hairs, but I have done since I was about 22, so that doesn’t make me any older (or feel any older or look any older really), but still less than my mum had at this point.

Our age is defined by our peers. (it isn’t, but that is the stance I’m taking to make this mean anything.

Of the 5 of us in our student flat, I am the second youngest, both in years, and in peer years.

The youngest (age) is the oldest compared to us, as he has the oldest and most established kids, is onto his third house, and has started and sold a business.
The second oldest, matches his actual age, with the twins, and the other one. Third matches third again, with a single kidlet, and has been married for ever (pretty much since the first week of university they behaved like they’d been married for many years.
The second youngest (peer) is also the second youngest (age) – me.

The oldest – (age) is the youngest (peer) as he is single, childless, living in a rented flat, free to jetset round the world doing what he loves, and I envy him daily. Although he did go bald at about 21. Not fair.

I have the Lady GaGa album. Not only do I have it – but I think it is rather good. I called it rather good, and not – well dub – so I am a bit old, but not as old as some. I pay attention to the charts, but only because it is news these days, and the BBC tells me I should pay attention. I certainly wouldn’t buy something as it is popular, but I am pleased when something I like becomes popular. I’d only heard of Lady GaGa because she was popular, but I like her because I like her. I liked the Noisettes before they were popular (some might say before they sold out to the man and mazda) so I am still pretty cool (re – young) there too.

I also – ahem – listen to radio 4. The radio station – not the dubious 90s indie band. I know they are dubious as we have at least one of their CDs upstairs, and the wife has never suggested we listen to it – so they may well be a guilty pleasure of hers. This is a tangent.

If it is 6.30 pm, and I’m in the kitchen, I’ll switch on the digital radio (young) and listen to radio 4 (old) but only for the comedies. I’ll pay attention to the news at 7, but as I am not by brother, and mid 30s going on retired and sitting in a rocking chair with my pipe and slippers, I will TURN IT OFF BEFORE THE ARCHERS STARTS. This is something I associate with age. My grandparents listened to the archers. I understand my brother also listens to farming today, but I also understand he needs to get a life.

Therefore I am still young – in the grand scheme of things. I am closer to birth than to death (I hope) and I’m certainly closer to the start of my career than to the end (I hope too!)
Next time we’ll move on to my parents, and I’ll look like I’m still in nappies compared to them.

Paris post mortem

Ok - it has been a few days, and I’ve had my chance to go over it. As you'll have seen from the twitter feed - I didn't have the best of times on Sunday, finishing a tad over my target time of 4 hours, in 4.46...

The wife kicked butt of course - smashing her pb, and her target time of 3.45 by a good 2 minutes.

So where did it all go wrong? I talked it up pretty well I thought, but I didn't have it in me on the day. Here’s the blow by blow account - set your excuseometer to full.

Preparation - not too bad, but as previously discussed - it is a fine line between training fully, and getting ill with me, and I chose the healthy option - if I felt my health dwindling I cut back the training. Other runners get injured - I seem to get ill.

Night before - not a bad night’s sleep, there were some noisy shaggers in the room next door, but my ear plugs soon sorted them out (you'd be amazed how much it spoils the mood having ear plugs flung at you via a balcony and an open window).

Morning of the race - my normal upset stomach didn't materialise until it was too late to do anything about it - I was in the queue trying to get into the 4 hour pen when it kicked in an I felt quite uncomfortable. mind over matter, and it seemed to go away

The start - while I was still elbowing my way into the pen, and well before the actual start, the organisers decided to open the front of all the other pens, allowing all the 4 and a half hour runners to surge forward, before all the 4 hour runners were in there. By the time I got in, there were a good 5000 "slower" runners in front of me all shuffling forwards. I could see the people with the green flags, showing they were the 4 hour pacemakers about 200 yards in front, so I aimed to keep them in view.

The first 5k - just trying to get any sort of flow on in my running was impossible, as I was struggling to avoid slower people in front of me, and faster people behind me did their very best to elbow me out of the way. the usual people running as groups didn't help, and my only choice (if I wanted any hope of hitting my target time) was to keep running at my 9 minute mile pace, and if that meant going sideways, then so be it. I know this is a bad idea, but I knew it would be cutting it fine to get me on pace, and losing even a few minutes early on would have left me needing to run ludicrously quickly (for me) for another 23 miles, which wasn't going to happen.

First water station - absolute hell. For reasons best known to themselves - the organisers put this at a narrow corner, and the entire race stops to grab a bottle of water, and half a banana. (This in turn means the cobbled street is covered by wet banana skins - which isn't such a problem, as running at this point was not an option.) another 2 and a half minutes wasted. I had a gel and tried to make the most of the rest, which I didn't need

10k - well behind schedule (about 5 minutes) I attempted to up the pace a little, but not too much - as in London last year I’d caught up 3 minutes by the half way point, and it wore me out just to put on that much of a burst of "speed".

13 miles - shocking. feeling tired, no energy left and not really worrying, but a tiny bit worrying pains across my ribs (I won't call them chest pains, as I never thought my life was in danger) I was 10 minutes behind schedule. realising I was exhausted, and to get a sub 4 marathon would have meant smashing my half marathon PB (and then some) and to get a marathon PB I would have to pretty much get a half marathon PB (my half marathon PB isn't that great) and feeling the way I did at that point it was NOT going to happen.

14 miles – still going, and seeing what happened. I was running – or doing what I call running. Most others would still call it jogging.

16 miles – barely moving. I saw the 26 km marker twice, and started wondering if I was hallucinating (I decided I just saw 25 and mistook it for 26 later) this was the point at which we went through underpasses, tunnels, and last of all the scene of the crash that killed the Queen of Hearts (TM). Walking through the airless tunnels, with the occasional word of encouragement from my French counterparts, I could hardly face another step.

17 miles – walking, and not on the official course, I had a nice stroll along the banks of the Seine, admiring the Eiffel Tower in the distance, and the Statue of Liberty on the river (not hallucinating – look it up), I scanned for a metro station. If I’d seen one, the emergency 5 Euros would have been utilised to get me back to the Arc de Triumph. Fortunately I didn’t find one. With 9 miles to go, I wondered about walking directly to the arc, but my sense of direction, in addition to my sense of shame (one of the advantages of getting sponsored, and of going on about it so often to the world and his wife about my fifth marathon, and telling the parents how they could track my progress online, and imagining them watching my chip be scanned through every 5km point (actually they were shopping, but I didn’t know that) so I told myself the following.

9 miles isn’t that far. That’s a jog home from work.
I would only get lost trying to walk back
I would look like a right old quitter, trudging the streets of Paris in my vest and number.
Even if I walked the 9 miles – I’d get there eventually, I’d get a medal, and I’d finish the marathon.
Finishing 5 marathons is still pretty cool, even if one of them (ok – 3 of them, almost 4 of them) was pretty rubbish by my standards

Onwards. Back on the course

20 miles – walking and running, I kept on going. 10k – is 10k, and I can do that standing on my head.

22 miles – bumped into a fellow club member – it was nice to see her, and we chatted for a while, I made sure that she wouldn’t slow down for me, and I did my best to keep up with her.

23 miles – The Marathon De Beaujolais Neuvoux were advertising their race, by giving away wine. Nice, warm red wine, in little glasses. Two years ago, I was tempted, but I was taking it seriously that time. With nothing to lose, other than my lack of a headache, I accepted the offer of a cheeky beverage from a beautiful girl dressed as a nun, then went to catch up my team mate.

24 miles – the stand for the Marathon De Medoc (another heavily wine based marathon – 26 miles, 26 vineyards) provided more red and another one offering cold white wine (my favourite wine of all) and I was much happier. With 2 miles to go, I kept on jogging along. I passed a pair of camels at one point. The wife has no recollection of them – I may have been elsewhere at the time, head wise.

26 miles – no chance of a sprint finish, I posed for the photographers (they missed me completely), crossed the line, accepted my medal, and had a look around for the wife. No sign of her, and it was beyond the 1 hour cut off period we’d set for giving up meeting at the finish, and heading for the hotel, so I headed for the hotel.

I’d just showered by the time she got back – she must have been on the train behind me. We exchanged stories, and that was that.

I’m giving myself 18 months without running another marathon. Another small marathon will probably happen at some point. Maybe Leicester again (although hilly, I can train up for that) maybe Abingdon (a good one for a PB) or maybe somewhere else. I’ll keep on supporting the wife, but my body needs a break. It needs adrenaline, and the speedier events such as the triathlon and 5-10k races will be much better for me.

12 hours to go

Resful day - check.

Drunk plenty of water - check.

Big pile of pasta - check.

I think i'm ready. we've spent the afternoon watching an entire series (nearly) of the office (US version) and generally lying around - we had a short walk this morning to the Gardin De Luxemborg at ate bread and hummus, and drank orangina, and we had a lovely swift meal at the same italian restaurant we ate at last night.

I'm as ready as i'll ever be.

I'm making sure i keep the pressure on myself - not in a bad way, but i'm very much aware that this is likley to be my last marathon (certainly for a while) and i want to give it my best shot. i know that i am my own worst enemy. I'll get about 3 miles in and want to give up, i'll get about 13 miles in and reckon i can do it, then i'll think i need a walking break at about 16 miles, and thats where it could all fall apart.

in my long runs previously, i've been getting much better at only walking when i really have to - crossing roads, avoiding pensioners, and that is pretty much it. my own laziness will be the killer, so i won't let it beat me. i'm more aware than ever before, that i really should be able to do this. if that fat guy can beat me in thanet, then i am capable of a lot more.

people occasionally suggest i should be able to go a lot faster than i do, and i agree, but for some reason, i don't seem to be able to. sometimes i wonder if illness while i was younger had adversely affected my abilities, or if my running style isn't as good as it might be, or as efficient. i really don't know - but looking at myself in the mirror, i'm lean, i'm gorgeous, and i'm ready. i can do this.

I'll be disappointed if i only finish. I'm sticking to my 5 minute 40 second kms (i have a nice wrist band to show me the actual times as i'm not too hot on my 5 minute 40 second times tables. curese the french and their sensible metric system - 9 minute miles is so much easier!)

i'll be happy if I get a PB (that would only need me to finish in 4 hours and 12 minutes, which means i could lose 30 seconds a mile and do it still) but i know i can get that sub 4 hour time.

I'll be back tomorrow evening to tell you how i got on, and to give you a damn good excuse as to why i didn't get it!

until then,

au revoir!

Free Hotel Wifi!

Woo hoo!

I'm online, and i can therefore bore you some more.

Went to the expo, got our numbers (lisa had someone else's for a while, but we sorted that out) and i bought a new gel belt, the only item i couldn't find before we left).

We've luckily ended up staying opposite 2 very nice looking italian restaurants - just had a lovely pizza for dinner tonight, and we'll probably go back for the essential pasta tomorrow night.

gosh everything is expensive here - our currency is obviously having a shocking time. We decided against having a glass of pop with dinner, as €5 for a coke is taking the mickey (although it would have been pretty mickey inducing when we were getting €1.5 to the pound!

anyhoo - we're going to watch some TV shows we downloaded earlier and get an early night - it is said that the night before the night before the marathon is the important one. i know i won't sleep well tomorrow whatever happens, so this is my only chance!

until later

d&L.

All running done - just the marathon now

Yep - the slightly too fast 2 and a half miles I ran yesterday were my lot. Training done. i'm not getting any fitter between now and sunday morning - I just need to rest - relax and above all, not walk for 6 hours up and down massive hills and steps like I did 2 years ago.

The down side is, the weather forecast is suggesting it will be pretty warm - 19degrees c might not seem that warm, but it will be enough to make me need to take headache pills before, and probably during the race, and be careful to have plenty of water all the way through. I'll be doing the wet hat trick too.

We head for paris tomorrow morning - stupidly early, need to leave the house at about 6! ghastly. (althogh only an hour earlier than a normal workday). Then we'll pick up numbers and t shirts and other goodies at the marathon expo in the afternoon, and scour the local area for pasta restaurants. We'll eat something else tomorrow, but the pasta is a vital aspect of our preparation for sunday.

We've both been off the booze since monday night, and we'll stick to that till after the race, although if i've sprained an ankle, or am feeling really dreadful, i reserve the right to have some wine/brandy/cider which i know will be offered between miles 22 and 25.

I have no idea if i'll be able to get online and twitter or facebook while we're away. it will all depend on free wifi... Ill keep scanning on the iphone and try and say hi when i can.

We're home on wednesday, and have a single day in work on thursday before another long weekend. bliss.

Anyway - thats all your getting, blogging, packing and eating in one lunch hour isn't going to get any of them done properly.

Catch you soon!

And wish me luck - I'm going to need it!

2 more runs till the big one

I thought I’d better write about running again, as it is both the most interesting thing I’ve done for a little while, and also the fact that I have recently publicised this blog on my running club’s website! All very well, but if they have to dig down to find something running related, underneath all the rest of the drivel you have to put up with.

I never promised a specific subject for this blog – it’s just what’s on my mind at the time – and very much – if I don’t have anything worth saying, then I won’t say anything at all.

I’m just back from a 9 mile run – my normal route home from work. As some of my longer marathon training runs have been deviations from this route, with extra bits added on to the beginning, so I might do five miles round the city, before doing the remaining 8 miles home on the normal route – doing it this way, I’m not as tempted to give up half way round – as half way round is still 6 miles from home, I’m not home and having to run past the front door – and keep on going. The other good thing about ruining this way, is that when I only need to do the 9 miles, if feels pretty easy – by the time I was getting to Stockwell, I was exhausted before – now it is barely 4 miles in, so I’m feeling chipper, and can sprint over the junctions, instead of taking the excuse to stop and walk.

I am loving the fact that I can run 9 miles and hardly notice – I’m going to be making sure I keep enough of a level of fitness that I’ll be able to run home once or twice a week (when I’m not cycling to work of course).
It’s not the best way to think about things, but I weighed myself just now – I’m floating around the 12 and a quarter stone mark – not quite down to the 12 mile “fighting weight” I was hoping for, but close, and I’m still off buying chocolate for lent. (I’m off buying chocolate – if others offer to buy me chocolate, or I find chocolate lying around the place, that is fair game – waste not want not. The 2 massive chocolate chip cookies I ate today, were both valuable for me for the run, and stopped me needing a (far too common) second packet of crisps in the afternoon. If the dreadful hardship of jogging home once in a while means I can eat massive amounts of crisps and chocolate – then bring it on.

I’m quite happy with how the training has gone – I’ve been more mindful of my body this time round, taking care not to become sick, which was very much the problem with my first marathon (Paris 07) and my third (London 08), illness meaning I missed big chunks of vital training, including not as many long runs as I should have completed. This time though – I’ve been more consistent, and my only missing period was about a week ago during my taper time, so I’m not overly worried about that. I’ve done 261.5 miles so far this year, and with 7 miles on Sunday, and a run from work half way home on Tuesday (I can’t do the full 9, as that would be too much in the week before the big one) and I’ll be ready for Paris.

I’m not convinced I’ll get the sub four hour time – but I’m very confident I’ll get a massive PB – and I’m focussed on pushing appropriately hard all the way round – pacing myself properly, never walking through laziness, and above all remembering.

This is what I’ve trained for. This is all that matters. If I feel awful, can’t walk, or don’t run for a month afterwards, but I get my target time, then it was worth it.

And don’t drink the wine they offer at 23 miles. That won’t help at all.

We’re starting to get our lives back now too – with time for the family (mummy’s visiting once we get home from Paris, and big bro is visiting this week). I’m also going to tell you about a fab day out I had with my dad last week too – but another time.

general update

Tried a long run home last night, but wore the wrong shoes, got from the office to the thames to westminster bridge to tate modern to oval, but then got the same blisters as before - all the way down the right side of my left heel. not fun. i jumped on the tube in pain, and got back home and picked it all off - it will be fine to run again tomorrow, and was fine for cycling today (did 24 miles - to richmond park, round the park twice (once in each direction) and home again.

I'm enjoying the cycling, we had dan and Kev with us too, and they left me for dust (as did lisa as usual!) i need to get out more, and start cycling to work more often too. 18 miles a day (9 there and back) would get me used to it. I'm definately "all the gear - no idea" at the moment, but i'll improve - that was only the third time i've been on a bike with drop handlebars and clipped in pedals (i've still not fallen off - my main problem is getting myself attached)

I'm upping the distance for tomorrow to 11 miles, which should be peasy! my total for the week will be 23 then, which is fine based on my hard week/easy week philosophy. next week i have to do 17 on thursday, which will be my last long run before heading to paris.

yay! 20 miles v2 - done!

20 miles round the Isle of Thanet - Done.

i'm happy enough that i finished and very happy that i got round in 9 and a half minute miles - pretty consistantly. I'll need to go faster than that for my sub four hour marathon... another 30 seconds off each mile? i have 5 weeks more training - 2 weeks of hard work, and 3 weeks taper.

I think i can still lose a tiny bit of excess weight - (before you tell me not too - when did you last see me with my shirt off?) which i could feel wobbling while running. however, based on the fact that when i was going past the 19 mile mark, i noticed a chap who had already finished (in his shorts, medal round his neck) and he was about 16 stone, and was smoking a cigarette?

WHAT AM I DOING WRONG???

I'm 12 and a half stone - haven't smoked since a crafty one while very very drunk in hong kong (and that was a marlboro light - smoking one of them is only the equivalent to being in the same room as a joss stick) and i've been running for 4 years... (properly)

i know i still need to push myself more, and my most important aspect for the Paris Marathon is making sure i make every step count. never giving up, and RUNNING the whole thing.

but still - another step in the right direction - i'm not too bothered that i was a bit slower than 2 years ago over the same distance, as it was really hilly on the new course, and i think i did both my long training runs too fast before my first marathon.

i'll find a way of doing another massive run in a couple of weeks - i don't have any more races, but i enjoy the long ones home from work, dodging the tourists and bothering the taxis at crossings.

i'm sitting here with a glass of Cava, and about to watch a silly film. no running tonight - we're doing a speed session tomorrow, and i have a long one on thursday planned. add in a bit of cycling, and maybe a swim on wednesday, and i'll be a proper adonis before you know it.

blisters

one of the problems of having to wear smart work shoes by day, and relying on my trainers to get me round crazy distances, is that it is hard finding work shoes that fit.

for years i was exactly a size 10, and could get any shoes, and say "size 10 - they'll be fine - try them on you say? well i want to make sure you have made them right - i know my feet are a size 10, so if they don't fit it must be something to do with your poor cobblership"

you know how mars bars aren't as big as they used to be? so they can avoid putting the price up all the time, they just shave a gram off here and there and keep the price constant. (allegedly). Marks and Spencers have started charging more for larger bras as they cost more to make. understandable.

i have a feeling a similar thing is happening with shoes. my last two pairs of work shoes have been size 9 and a half. half sizes are awfully fashionable at the moment it seems, and i tried the size 10 and my feet rattled around.

what i suspect is that my feet have been downsized as part of the reaction to the economic downturn. (they can't be making shoes bigger - that would be crazy).

if you look at big fat people on uk living or channel five's "the man who had to be hoisted out of his house using a crane" you'll see their feet are a relatively normal size. it is impossible to have fat feet - certainly the bit of the foot that actually get walked on, occasionally you'll see a strap digging into the top bit of the foot...

I've lost 3 stone in the course of my running career, but none of that excess weight was ever on my feet.

the result of course has been that my work shoes aren't quite the snug fit they used to be. even though they are a smaller size, they still aren't quite right - one pair pinches the sole slightly, and the other is too harsh at the ankle.

this has left a strange incompatibility between my feet, which seem to be attempting to adjust to the bizarre dimensions of M&S and Clarke's shoes, and my trainers (which are still a size 10, and still seem to fit perfectly).

9 miles into my planned 12 miles home last night (office to westminster to london bridge to home - lots of tourist dodging up and down the thames path) i started getting pains in my feet, along with a more normal headache (too much coffee and screen time) . the feet were hurting while i walked to help out the head, and the head was hurting while i run to help out the feet.

as a result of this catch 22, i took a slight shortcut on the northern line, and ended up doing 10 miles instead of 12. i have a couple of days off the running now, but i'm hopefully doing a long bike ride tomorrow (proving to my friend Kev that even though i have a carbon fibre bike, he's still MUCH faster than me.)

quick update

Yes - I did the speed session yesterday - it felt pretty good, and I'm putting 6 miles down on my (sad and lonely) spreadsheet.

Tonight I'm eating loads and drinking more, as my free evenings are precious!

Sorry this one isn't very interesting - I'm at work and very busy, but didn't want to let you down. I might still get round to reviewing the (rather good) Lily Allen album, although my attentions have been drawn recently to the (also rather good) Morrissey album.

Catch you soon.

First 20 miler - done.

My time in yesterday's 20 mile race was nothing to write home about - it was all I could manage to keep moving by about 17 miles in, and only the Reading Roadrunner behind me, who kept shouting at me every time i slowed to a walk (and sprinted past me at the line!) kept me going at all.

of course - this was never going to be a PB - coming off an 11 mile week (laziness) then a 5 mile week (snow and illness) and then doing a 9, a 4 and then the 20, I'm very much getting up to distance.

the big test will be as follows.

will i do the speed session tomorrow? (my legs are feeling ok today, but i suspect they'll get worse) - the answer is yes I will - Lisa will see to that - and we have Kit to sell!

Will I run home on thursday? - yes! i'll tell everyone in the office, and (I'll make myself believe that) they'll laugh if I chicken out. I might even put in an extra loop and make it up to 15 miles or so. (you never know)

Then i'll be able to do a social 7 miler with the club on sunday, and maybe have a long bike ride on saturday, and all will be well with my training.

Sorry this blog is getting quite running focussed - it is starting to take over my life at the moment - I'll try and review the lily allen album tomorrow as some light relief.

Multisport

Looks like I'm giving myself a focus.

London Duathlon - Entered

I did it last year on no training and a hybrid bike without a top gear in trainers. I fell off the bike and limped home, bleeding - finishing with the wheezy kids and the old and infirm. If i can't improve my PB this year following training, on my Carbon Fibre monster of a bike weighing in at only 8kg) and with the full knowledge of what that hill will do for ones ability to brake at the bottom, then there is something wrong with me (of course there is plenty wrong with me, you don't need to tell me that, but nothing that will stop me threatening lisa in the duathlon)

Swanage Triathlon - Considering.

I need to do some research, as it could be as hilly as a hilly thing, but with people usually doing 750m swims in less than 30 minutes (and as quick as 15) i'll need to improve on the 500m in 25 minutes i did in the pool on monday. I have plenty of time to do so, and i can swim without affecting other training too much. Cycling to work more often (i.e. at all) will improve my biking, and after the marathon in the spring, I quite fancy trying to improve my shorter (5-10k) runs.

I think i'm talking myself into it - i'll need a wetsuit though - and to practice my swimming in the sea too!

Its all scary...

Much Happier

my self analysing in the blog entry of a few days ago seems to have done the trick, and got my mind in the right place.

yesterdays 9 miler felt good, and i actually thought that i could have carried on (with a gun to my head, i might have got to the 20 mile mark that i'll be attempting on sunday)

Speed session tomorrow in the park - should be fun (although i think they are shooting the deer at the moment so it may well be closed and we'll be running the streets...)

I'm having tonight off - although i ought to be doing something to counteract the meatball sub i had for lunch!

Feeling good

I've been sneezing all morning, it is raining outside, and the forecast is for "sleet" but i feel brilliant.

Tonight i'm running home - and nothing will stop me. i have my waterproof top, my gloves, and my headband, and its only 9 miles.

The main motivation for me running home though is my new work shoes. running 9 miles in my nice comfy trainers is childs play compared to walking for 10 minutes to the tube, and 10 minutes at the other end. they are cutting into my ankles something chronic.

as you'll have seen yesterday - it is all about the phsychology - make me think i'll enjoy the run, and i'll run. and i'll enjoy it.

how i'll get on with my 20 mile race on sunday is another matter - but one step at a time!

Training Update

You may have spotted on my new Twitter feed (bottom right) that I didn’t run home on Friday. Sometimes it is best to listen to your body, and all through the weekend I had that feeling that I might be about to go down with something – but then I’ve been feeling a bit like that since the beginning of December, when I had 2 days off work with flu, and I’ve been a bit coughy, and rather phlegmmy every since.

Usually I really enjoy running (in fact I really enjoy any physical activity) but my mind works in a strange way, and seems to think it enjoys sitting on the tube/playing computer games/watching MasterChef more. (one of those is true, but I also enjoy being gorgeous, and running is the only thing that keeps me from being an amorphous sofa bound blob, washing myself with a rag on a stick.).

So I scratched Friday’s run, and went home on the tube – as it often is when I should have run home, it was a hellish journey, and I didn’t get a seat until Stockwell. And then I had to elbow a pregnant pensioner aside to beat her to it – and it was one of those really solid fold down ones.

On Sunday morning – I felt pretty up for it – my mind was back in the right place, and I was looking forward to a bracing 11 miler. About 3 miles in, I was stopping to walk, feeling weird, and wheezing like an asthmatic with a really good idea in a 30’s comic.

Lisa took pity on me, and walked me back to the car. I drove home, while she got a proper run in by running home. I wasn’t happy.

Whenever things aren’t going my way in any of my chosen ventures, I start to reconsider my motivation for that venture. You can tell I’m having a terrible time at work, because I’ll go and buy a new synthesizer, in the mistaken belief that I’ll become a pop star instead. (I sold loads of these recently and bought a new TV – a 37inch LCD doesn’t give me delusions of musical talent).

When I’m having a bad time running (I have a marathon in 2 months, and my first 20 miler is on Sunday, and in the last 2 weeks I’ve run a total of twice, covering about 16 miles between those two runs – I’m calling it a rest period, but its not going to help my chances) I start to question my motives for running. I enjoy it (most of the time) but what am I going to achieve? Maybe I have really high standards, but will I one day look back at my running career and be pleased that I ran 4 marathons (yes – I’m already very proud of that) or will I be disappointed that after 5 years of running, I never progressed further than “mediocre” (this is what I’m worried about).

I don’t have the dedication to improve hugely, and even if I did – where would it get me? I don’t have an enormous desire to be “a better runner”, I just have a desire to be “fit and healthy and happy and beautiful” and I’m mostly there.

I took a year off the marathons (well – about 8 months off between finishing the last, and starting the training for the next) because I realised I was losing big chunks of my life to running. When you need to run 15-20 miles each weekend, its quite difficult to visit the family, go out with friends, or sit in front of a computer, or with a guitar on my lap being creative (which is actually the easiest thing to fit in around the running).

I went swimming at lunchtime today, and loved it - 500 metres in all manner of unidentifiable strokes in about 25 minutes. (I only have 2 gears in swimming – swimming and hanging onto the side of the pool panting. Technically there is another – drowning – but I’ve avoided that one so far)

I also bought myself a swanky new bike the other day, and had a great time being shown that all the lightweight carbon fibre in the world won’t make me faster than the wife when it comes to powering up the hills in Richmond Park!

I want to do a triathlon. It’s a goal – it impresses people (as much as having run marathons) and it is something I can do that Lisa can’t do (she can swim, but only in a splashing about trying to make sure her contact lenses don’t float away type way).

I’m hoping that by starting off as a mediocre runner, and adding the ability to cycle in a pretty mediocre way, as well as training really hard to be a mediocre swimmer, I will then become more than the mediocre sum of my mediocre parts, and become a passable triathlete.

All the way though – I’ll be making sure I enjoy all aspects of the training – keep healthy and happy and beautiful (beeeefcaaake!) and have plenty of time for being creative.

procrastinating about running

i have a cold. i'm supposed to be running (quite a lot) tonight. i'm torn between the need to get the mileage back up after the filthy weather we've had this week (which means i've not run since 11 miles on sunday, and that was my first run for a week).

i'm supposed to be doing about 16-18 miles this week, as a preparation for the 20 mile run on the 15th. that isn't going to happen.

i'm resigned to running home - which is 9 miles, and if i'm feeling ace i might do some detours, but 16 is not likley. i'm doing at least 11 on sunday (maybe a tiny bit more) and i've done one 16 and one 14 so far.

i'm more concerned that i'm going to make myself (more) ill by running in the cold. in fact - looking out the window, i'm trying to work out if it is raining. if it is raining i'll be on the tube.

i've just checked at the window. its not raining. i have no excuse. i'll run home, and wipe my nose on the back of my glove. i'm confident i'll enjoy it once i get out there - its been a horrible week, and the escape from the office with the cold wind in my (currently almost flowing) hair will be wonderful. can you see what i'm doing here? working psychology on myself. i'm almost fooled.

been busy

I'm thinking about moving to smaller - shorter posts - if I think of something more substantial, I'll write it, but i'm finding it hard to find the time (and the inspiration) to get a good rant on.

Of course - I've also been very busy writing a novel. It is top secret, but I can tell you it currently has 18000 (very short) words, and far too much use of buts and ands, and i'm probably about half way through. thats all i'm telling you for now.

we've had loads of snow - so I was working from home yesterday and the day before. its affecting the marathon training - I'm supposed to be running home from work tonight, but it was so icy on the pavements back at my end of town, i'm not sure how far I'd get before fear of a broken ankle would force me to jump on the tube...

New Years Eve (December 2007!)

I'm not a big fan of New Years Eve. I've had some very enjoyable ones, but I’ve had some very enjoyable nights in general, and if I took all my enjoyable nights on new years eve, and compared them to my enjoyable nights not on new years eve, I think I enjoyed the enjoyable nights not on new years eve a lot more.

Don't get me wrong - I like years, and I like nights out, and I like celebrating new things, but put them all together and they are far less than the sum of their parts. The mighty Lee and Herring did a routine about the similarities of celebrating New Years Eve (particularly the millennium) and celebrating the changing of the mileage on the car from 9999 to 10000, cheering the meaningless change in an arbitrary count of a collection of units of time… I’m kind of with them there, although my innate sense of tidiness does enjoy seeing nice round numbers and I do enjoy seeing them all change at once.

For the Millennium, I went out, with some of my closest friends (and 69996 others), to see the Manic Street Preachers at the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff. It cost £30 a go, and compared to the alternatives, £10quid just to go to the pub, through to £100 to see “some fellahs playing records” as James Dean Bradfield put it, it was a bargain. Feeder, Super Furry Animals, the Manics, and the BBC and all the fireworks on the big screen, gave a great sense of occasion, and we all felt suitably celebrated. I stayed sober – avoiding the ludicrous price of booze at the stadium, and meaning I could drive across town to a party and the lovely Carys (but that is another story).

The next year we went down the civic centre and saw Madness or Shawaddywaddy or some such, and enjoyed the fireworks and sprayed cheap sparkling wine in the air and upset some people who didn’t like cheap sparking wine landing in their faces, and drank some cheap sparkling wine and annoyed Dan by singing the “hey baby” song very loudly so everyone joined in with the ooh aah bit and drank some more cheap sparking wine and went to bed (tired but happy) although I think Dan might have actually gone to the second flight of stairs, thinking it was his bed and wondering why it was so lumpy.

6 or 7 days later, I met the wife and everything changed.

Being in a couple at New Years Eve is great. No pressure to snog a complete stranger, no painful face when you get slapped after snogging a complete stranger, no awkward moments following the snogging of someone who wasn’t a complete stranger, but it might not have been such a good idea to decide to snog them as peer pressure is a terrible thing and you were probably better off just as mates who never snogged at new years eve, instead of being mates who snogged at new years eve and does that mean we should go out on a date, or kiss goodbye after we go out just as friends or should we never speak to each other ever again.

We also found Twisted By Design – the best club night in the world, run by the best DJ/Promoter in the world – Gary Twisted. He also therefore – ran the best New Years Eve in the world. Apart from one, (when we watched the fireworks from an Auckland hotel room) we did all our Cardiff New Years Eves at twisted. Always a great night guaranteed, with the added bonus of ensuring you are by the window at midnight and watching the aforementioned Cardiff fireworks from the warmth of a sweaty dance floor along with the dulcet tones of Half Man Half Biscuit. At £6.50 (for about the last 5 years) it represents perfect value for money – which I perceive as being “would I pay that to go there and do that on any other night of the year – if yes – then its good value for money”.

Then we messed it up by moving to London.

20quid to go to Brixton academy tonight is probably ticking this box for many people – XFM DJs, some cool bands, 9pm till 4am, and reasonably local for us, but I wouldn’t do this any other night, so I wont tonight. Tonight, I have other priorities. Tonight I have the wife, who I may or may not snog at midnight. I have a 10k race tomorrow morning, where I may or may not get a decent time (for me – my last 10k was 2 days after smashing my knee open, so it should be possible to run better than that – even after a couple of glasses of a cheeky Chilean Sauvignon Blanc.) I have a few new DVDs to choose from, and a better than average chance of going to bed with the prettiest girl in the world.

I’m sorry to any single people reading this. I remember how much fun it is not fulfilling your expectations of a night out – let alone a new years eve, so forget about it. It’s only a number. It’s a midnight like any other. Enjoy your evening whatever you end up doing – and don’t do anything you won’t enjoy, just because of the date. The same goes for you loved up couples too.

Happy New Year, all the best for 2008, and sleep well tonight. My resolution is to keep on posting, even if it is only the wife and brother who are reading, I’d enjoy writing this just as much if I had a million readers, or just the two of you. I’m aiming for something new every Tuesday, so slap me if I don’t deliver.