Mid-Atlantic, heading west, I should be throbbing with excitement and dread about Monday’s marathon, and with relief and joy at the thought of three weeks off work, and all the pleasures in store. Below the surface somewhere, I probably am. But just for the moment, I continue to be shocked and saddened and confused by yesterday’s news, conveyed by Ash (Sweder), that Chris Moyle died on Wednesday night. It’s outrageous; wrong; inexplicable.
I last saw Chris in Almeria, just over a year ago, though we’d been in touch as recently as October, when we exchanged emails. By that time, his illness (he had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer not long before) seemed to be in remission, and I allowed myself to presume that all would be well. I was looking forward to seeing him on the start line at the Brighton 10K in November 09, and to enjoying his company again over a few pints of Guinness in Almeria a couple of months after that, along with Tina, his partner. How wrong I was.
At Almeria 08, as expected, he had whipped round the Almeria half marathon course far quicker than the rest of the party. I was in poor condition at the time, having run only sporadically over the previous few months. I entered the 10K, which the race organisation managed to turn into 13 kilometres. After the now traditional Monday mountain run, which I struggled with, I had a long conversation with Chris about the year ahead, and how I planned to get fit again. He told me that my problem was inconsistency. I already knew this, but it was good to hear it from someone else. “Keep it steady”, he told me. “It’s better to run a 10K every month or a half every month or two, than to do a marathon or an ultra, then sit on your arse for six months.” Good advice. I didn’t take enough notice at the time. Perhaps it’s time I did.
Plans at the moment include the Oxford 10K on May 17, and probably the Newbury 10K a fortnight later. There’s a profusion of similar distance races throughout the summer in Berkshire, but the intention is to build a structured plan rather than snatch at them randomly as they drift past the window. More on this as it develops, and after I’ve seen what Boston and another 2½ weeks of American comfort food and Californian wine has done to me. It may be self-delusion, but I’m planning to exercise when I can, once the quads and calves have reinvented themselves.
Two hours to Logan. The plane seems to have a disproportionately large population of thin middle-aged people in trainers. Apart from the “thin” designation, I include myself in that category. I’m supposing I’m not the only marathoner on the plane.
I’ve been through Boston a couple of times before, but not had the chance to get to know the place. The closest I got was to spend a few work days in Cambridge, the brainy sister city on the other side of the Charles River. It was the week before Christmas, and Harvard Square, where I was staying, was coated in snow.. Most of the Harvard students had probably gone home, but the bars and cafés were still packed. Everyone seemed in festive mood. Apart from the work, it was a charming few days.
The only other US marathon I’ve done is Chicago, and it the current trip turns out to be half as memorable, and as affecting, I will feel satisfied.
I hope to find a different America this time. In October 2002, I recall us taking the train from O’Hare into the city. We emerged from the subway for our first glimpse of Chicago, and found ourselves in the middle of a demonstration against the warmongering of Bush and Blair. These were the uncertain months before the Iraq war. Well, despite calling them “uncertain”, every man and his dog knew that there was to be only one result of Bush and Blair’s frequent deliberations and pretend consultations with world opinion. They were taking us to war, and not even the sight of two million people marching in protest through London was going to jiggle the sanctimonious certainty of their crusade.
The America I’ll find this time is, like us, in mid-recession. The big difference now is the new president, Barack Obama, and the sense that Americans have the chance to reinvent themselves. It’s an opportunity I’m sure they’ll grab. I hope so. The world went cool on the US under Bush. I’m something of a Yankopile, and haven’t felt comfortable seeing what they’d become. I’d much rather they became a force for good, and for enlightenment, once again. The world’s a better and safer place with them on the true moral high ground, and not the highly dubious variety created by the neocons in some theological laboratory. I like what I’ve seen so far, but hope to understand more of what’s going on over the next two or three weeks.
30 minutes to landing at Boston, so am signing off for now.
The need to sleep is suddenly now greater than the desire to post a detailed update, so I’ll follow my instincts. Just briefly, we’ve arrived at a none-too-salubrious Holiday Inn Express a couple of miles outside the centre of Boston, next to a busy road. Had a brief wander round the local supermarket to top up with foreign fluids and buy a couple of cheap pay-as-you-go phones. We called in at the local Applebee’s for one of their salady pasta-ish things. Not bad. Gave me some carbs, but roused the slumber monster.
More tomorrow.
