Tues 30 July 2002

I had to work for it tonight, as I knew I would. It was only 4 miles or so, but I hadn't run for 4 days, and had missed my long run at the weekend. There wasn't a lot of air around, and what there was was dense and hot and heavy. Like me. I felt bloated and unfit and awkward, and the sweat! It came off me in bucketloads. But the pace was reasonable at 9:59 a mile.

I'm still sweating now, even after a shower and change of clothes and a meal. Let's hope our house insurance covers us for flooding, as I've a feeling that in the morning we're going to be wading through 2 or 3 feet of the stuff.

Wed 31 July 2002

Six miles this evening. Another tough run, though the earlier thunderstorm has cleared the air wonderfully.

It was my usual medium-length, midweek course of around 6 miles: a mile to the canal, 2.5 miles along it and another 2.5 back along the A4 and a couple of smaller roads. It's not a smooth route, so I shouldn't be too disappointed that my time was slow. The canal is usually alive with flies, and much of the path is through bumpy, adjacent fields. The A4 is loud and fast, with most of the pavement obstructed by overhanging branches from the adjacent trees and bushes. It's only the first and last miles that are reasonably clear. At least the flies weren't too bad this evening - the rain must have kept them indoors. Perhaps they were glued to the web.

The weekend runs of the training programme have reached the half-marathon stage, and I'm trying to find local events to go for. The fact is there are virtually none. This weekend would be an ideal time to get a half under my belt, but the only ones I can find are in Aberdeen, Argyll, Newark, Cornwall and Dorset. If this was Australia or the USA, these would be trivial distances, but in England, to drive 100 or 150 miles is a major excursion. I'll decide on Sunday morning. If I'm aching for pain, I'll set off for Sturminster Newton in Dorset. Of course this assumes that I won't have done my long run on Saturday. And Saturday is preferable.

I will do one or two half marathons in the next month or two. Burnham Beeches in 2 weeks time looks good. Main problem is dealing with the requirement to do, say, 16 miles. Do I run 3 miles then do the race? Or do I do the race then run a further 3 miles? Neither option sounds terribly appealing, it has to be said.

The impending football season will provide some interesting challenges to the schedule. I don't suppose there'll be too many people arriving at Loftus Road having just run 12 or 15 miles or whatever. In most cases I suppose I'll end up running long on Sunday, but it would be better to get it out of the way on Saturday morning. I also like getting along to the gym on Sunday morning for a fairly gentle hour of cross-training. Or should I say, I like the idea of it.

Thurs 1 Aug 2002

Had a great idea this evening. Or rather, Hal Higdon had a great idea and passed it on to me (and everyone else who does his training programme). Do the usual route but in reverse. No, not running backwards. Just run it in the opposite direction from usual.

So I did. And it was a quite different experience. Quite fast for me too at 9:51 a mile. Now that I've done it this way round, I realise that it's a more logical direction. For one thing, the mile or so along the A4 now has me running towards oncoming traffic. Safer than having it coming up behind. Also, I no longer have that heartbreaking moment where, towards the end and starting to feel knackered, I find myself only a hundred yards or so from my house, but have to turn away and run another mile or so in the other direction.

Talking of Hal Higdon's great ideas, a less successful one was his suggestion that on particular runs you should wave your arms around and shout an effusive greeting at all runners that you pass, the idea being that if he/she does the same thing at the same time, you'll know that he/she is doing the same training programme. I'm sure it works along Lakeshore Drive in Chicago, but proved to be less than successful in the sleepy villages of West Berkshire. I'm surprised I didn't spend the night in the cells for my troubles.

Blimey, all this stuff about running is a bit dull isn't it? I must start writing about something interesting instead. Leave it with me.

Sat 3 Aug 2002

A difficult 13 miles today. I'm disappointed, but have to accept that these things happen from time to time.

Yesterday evening I drove around the local lanes beyond the canal, working out a new long run route. I'm a bit fed up with the canal. I need a break from the flies.

This morning I was up early and drove round again.Finally settled on a 13 mile route. Dropped off a drink at the 10 mile mark.

Finally set off at around midday, using a water belt for the first time. I thought it was going to feel very awkward after a while but it wasn't too bad. In fact, it seemed to hold my guts together as I trundled along.

The weather was just about ideal for running. Warm with sporadic, light showers.

I felt strong for the first 4 or 5 miles. The run took me down past the canal and beyond, into that swathe of flat countryside around Burghfield, Three Mile Cross and Grazeley Green. The roads were fairly empty, though the cars travel quickly, and it wasn't very relaxing.

Then my phone rang, and I stopped for 3 or 4 minutes to negotiate the cost of having our dining room floor sanded and varnished. It was a mistake. I rarely take a phone with me but as I had this belt today, and as it was a long run, I thought it wise. Anyway, while I appreciated the rest, it broke the rhythm, and I struggled after that.

By the time I got to 8 or 9 miles I was feeling weary. This was around the time that I stumbled across some top-secret establishment surrounded by huge fences, barbed wire, CCTV and patrolling police cars. And signs saying "NO PHOTOGRAPHING OR SKETCHING". Berkshire has several of these places, most famously the Atomic Weapons Establishment at Aldermaston, and down the road a little, the cruise missile base at Greenham Common (which may have closed now). This place might have been part of the AWE. It doesn't appear on the two maps I've checked. Anyway, I'd urge everyone to go and have a look at it. Take a picnic and spend the day wandering round the perimeter fence, waving at the CCTV. It confuses the hell out of them.

In a previous existence, I wasted 5 years working for the police, snooping on other people and grumbling about how awful other people are. A despicable occupation, though incredibly cushy. It embarrasses me to think about it. Eventually I chose life. It's much nicer out here than in there, I can assure you.

Just past this ludicrous place I stopped to pick up the back-up drink I'd dropped earlier. I now knew I'd struggle to keep running. I even had the PowerGel that I'd bought back in April for the London Marathon, but hadn't used. It wasn't bad. It said "vanilla" on the packaging though I suspect there would be little forensic evidence to link this substance to a vanilla pod. I can imagine the white-coated boffins in the lab, mixing up their noxious chemicals, producing this sticky off-white substance.

- What shall we call this one?
- Er, Brilliant White Emulsion?
- What about Putty? Or Sealant?
- No, should be something vaguely food-related. Someone's going to eat this stuff, remember. [Sounds of chuckling in the background]
- Tartare? Mayonnaise?
- Hmm, better, but not quite.
- Vanilla?
- Vanilla! That's it!

Actually, it was mystifyingly tasty. Had a sort of caramelly-chocolate character, and with a satisfyingly gloopy consistency. But it didn't do much for my energy levels.

Struggled through the last three miles, jogging half-heartedly, walking here and there. Though funnily enough I finished the 13 miles in the same time that it took me to run the Reading Half in March: 2 hours 30 minutes. This surprised me, and made me wonder if I'd started off too quickly.

Our exploration of the area's cultural facilities continued this evening, with a trip to the cinema at the Arts Centre in Bracknell, where we finally caught up with K-PAX. We enjoyed it. The cinema was a sort of Regency drawing room, complete with Palladian fireplace, chandelier, elaborate cornices and ceiling decorations. (I might have imagined that chandelier.) An unusual cinema, to put it mildly.

The film is interesting. Kevin Spacey plays a guy who arrives in New York claiming to be a visitor from a distant planet. Spends his time in a psychiatric hospital, slowly convincing a psychiatrist (Jeff Bridges) that he's telling the truth. Main flaw is the unconvincingly rapid flurry of detective work at the end as Bridges tries to uncover the 'truth'. But it's thought-provoking and funny in places. Worth seeing.

Hurrah! The long run is over for another week!