Mon 10 June 2002

10! 9! 8!

Hey what's going on here? Where am I?

As the countdown continues, my sweaty fingers tug at the seatbelt and I can feel my voice trembling. "Hey, let me out, someone... please, Oh my God, someone help me... HELP ME...!

7! 6! 5!

For God's sake, I didn't mean it. I DIDN'T MEAN IT!!

4! 3!

I can no longer hear myself shout above the noise of the screaming engines. It's too late.

2! 1!

Liftoff! We have liftoff!

Shock and fear suck me into numbed silence, as through the tiny porthole I see the Earth and all I hold familiar and valuable receding into the distance. Is that a flying saucer hovering on the other side of the glass?

No! it's a donut!

I make an instinctive lunge for it but it just gives me a cheeky twirl before spinning off into deepest outer space.

As we crash through a belt of cloud, a furious rain storm of beer and Champagne beats against the window. I hold out my cupped hands... but no, these pleasures are once more beyond my grasp.

Face it. The 18 week mission to Madness via Deprivation is well and truly under way once more...

Farewell friends and family. Farewell pork pies and Fuller's Best. If I make it through, we will have a glorious reunion. See you in a few months time.

Byee! Byeeee!

Tues 11 June 2002

The great thing about the Hal Higdon marathon training universe is that Monday is a rest day. And the training programme starts on a Monday so yes, the very first day of training, when you're all geared up and ready to roll... is a day of rest. OK, so for the other 17 weeks of the programme it makes sense, because Sunday is the big weekly effort. But on the first day?!

So last night I did half an hour on the exercise bike instead, and began to think about all the things I was going to do right this time round. Now let's see: stretching... sorting out the shoe problem before it gets too late... regular massages... cross-training, including time in the gym... speed work to get a bit faster... take more notice of times... get more sleep... try cooking some of the internationally-renowned recipes of Ian Painter (memo to self: check life insurance contributions are up-to-date)...

Tonight was my first real, scheduled run of the programme. I'm repeating the 'novice' training programme, though I plan to enrich it with a few extras this time round. This week is supposed to be: 3 miles tonight, tomorrow and Thursday, but I want to extend that a little. So tonight I ran 3.67 miles. Time was 39:28 which gives me a 10:45 per minute pace. I'm pleased with that pace for a first run. It means that I'm starting this programme about 2 or 2.5 minutes a mile faster than I started the last one. That's encouraging. My current goal is to finish in under 5 hours. Last time was about 5:55, though my aim was only to get round, so I accepted it. Chicago will be different.

Anyway, I'd love to stop for a natter but it's way past my bedtime and tomorrow morning I have to be on the 06:10 train to London. Ludicrously early I know, but I'm experiencing a peculiar burst of conscientiousness at the moment, and I decided that it would be a nice gesture to get in at around 7:30 tomorrow morning to make an early start on my virtual in-tray.

Hey! How about that? Just realised - by some weird coincidence, England are playing Nigeria in the World Cup tomorrow morning at exactly that time. Wow, freaky or what...?

Wed 12 June 2002

Going off to work at 6am should really have been more miserable than this. I suppose the prospect of an epoch-defining trouncing of Nigeria in the World Cup must have helped, but I think some of this energy must have come from last night's run.

The match failed to live up to expectations. We struggled to a goalless draw but at least we are through. Even better is that the Argentinians are on their way back to, I suspect, an unseasonably frosty Buenos Aires. Oh how we chortled at the thought.

Another simple 3 miler this evening. Despite stating that I'd leave the canal for long Sunday runs, that's where I found myself this evening. It proved irresistible after my first idea - to run around the local lake - was scuppered by the discovery that there's no path or track around it. Call me unadventurous but I didn't fancy sploshing through 3 miles of dense reeds and swamp.

I tried a simple - but difficult, as it were - speed test this evening that I read about recently. The aim is simply to try to do the second half of a run faster than the first half. I managed it. The first half of the 3 mile run was just under 17 minutes, the return leg just under 16.

Thurs 13 June 2002

I'm up for this marathon. More so than for London. I'm shocked by these levels of enthusiasm and excitement. Unnerving. But it's early days, and perhaps fatigue and boredom and injury are lurking just around that corner up ahead.

There are major differences between this campaign and the last one.

The mindset, the entire psychology has changed. Last time, I was preoccupied by fear and doubt, and intoxicated by a sense of wonder; the enormity of the undertaking. I've finished with them now, and today these obsessions belong to others: those next in line. Those who watched the race on TV in April and said "Right, next year I really am going to do it. If that fat bloke can manage it, I can too." This time I know I can make the distance. I've done it, and I can do it again - properly this time.
Last time I wanted only to finish the race. Last time it was the "whether"; this time it's the "how". I still won't be a fast runner in October, but by then I'll have been running for almost a year and I should be capable of getting round Chicago in under 5 hours. That's the target.
This time I'll be running for charity. News when I have it. I'm still finding it hard to persuade someone to take money from me, but I'm determined to get that right this time. "Getting it right this time" could be the theme of the Chicago campaign. I have a secret. Something I've not mentioned here before but here it is: I didn't enjoy London as much as I expected to. Many describe their first marathon as the best thing they ever did, or the best day of their lives or whatever. I didn't feel that. I didn't feel that because of the amount of walking I had to do. Yes, my frequently-stated aim was to finish the race, and that was achieved, but I felt dissatisfied about having to walk for much of the last third. I felt gloomy about my blisters and my bashed-up toenails (still blackened and battered today, 60 days later) and my seized-up calf muscles. Next time I want to run the marathon (not just do one), and finish in a reasonable time.
I'm fitter now - or will be. This first week or two will be a bit uncomfortable but I'm starting further along the track than I did last time, and I hope I can enjoy the long runs more this time.
I'm lighter now. It's true that I'm ten pounds heavier than I was on the morning of London but I still weigh 30 pounds less today than I did when I began the last training programme, in December.
I'll be doing some stuff in the gym this time. My god, proper cross-training? Whatever next? Last time I ran 4 days a week: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Sunday, and did nothing else. Saturday was supposed to be a cross-training day when you do other activities; I decided that trailing round IKEA in M's wake just about qualified, or walking from the BBC car park to Loftus Road on matchdays. Monday was an optional cross-training day in the gym or on the bike, or a day to yield to the wizardry of the sports masseuse. But I did none of that stuff. This time I will.
This time I'm not going to be so obsessional about eating and drinking. I'll pass on the chocolate and the donuts but I've decided that good English beer is stuffed with nutritional goodness, and should be part of my preparations. Friday is going to be a day of rest and, er, relaxation - at least until the closing stages.

None of this stuff is prescriptive. I'm not declaiming that this is what you must do to run a marathon. I don't know what you must do to run a marathon. I know what I must do, but no one else. Common sense says that much of what is right for me will be right for others, and I hope it may provide information or food for thought, or even inspiration, but I'm not here to tell you how to approach the goal you have.

I'd also emphasise that these are some of my thoughts about approaching the running of my second marathon. I don't want to present this list as "things I wish I'd known first time round" (even though that may be true for some of them). The first race is finished and gone; this is a new one, and demands a fresh eye. Some of the things I will do differently for Chicago couldn't have been done last time - for reasons of logistics or physical fitness.

Equally, some of the things I'd like to do and to experience this time round are no longer available: the sense of achievement from finishing my first 3 miler without stopping; the first times I ran 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12 miles. I remember them all. The first half marathon in Reading; then 14, 15, 16, 18, 20, and finally 26.2 miles. Those presents have been opened and the joy of the surprise has gone, and can never come back.

Tonight I did the same run as Tuesday: 3.67 miles. Got round about 30 seconds faster though I found it a bit of a struggle in places. I'm tiring slightly perhaps. In the last 5 days I've had 4 runs plus a half hour on the exercise bike. Time for a rest. Tomorrow's Friday, and a day for gentle relaxation and a gallon or so of ale.

Saturday will be another anxious morning as the tension builds towards England's 2nd round match with Denmark in the World Cup. My confident prediction is a goalless draw, with England going through after a penalty shoot-out. The thought is unbearable. Let's hope that my cardiac arrest will not be serious enough to prevent me from resuming next week.

Sat 15 June 2002

Denmark Schmenmark. A comfortable 3-0 win and a match against (probably) Brazil on Friday morning. A great relief to get to the quarter finals. I can now regard the World Cup as a triumph for England. The fear is getting knocked out early on.

I watched the second half from the saddle of an exercise bike. It's a tedious way of training but it slips by with a World Cup match to follow. I did 40 minutes. Tedious yes, but a good form of cross-training. The sweat was splashing off me, and I was beetroot-red by the end. Always satisfying. A quick shower, clean clothes, a lovely feeling.

Tomorrow sees the first long run of the campaign. Only 6 miles to start with, but the longest I've run since marathon day in mid-April. I'm looking forward to it. Last time round I used to fear the long runs, and would doubt whether I could do them. Strangely, I slightly miss that sense of apprehension. It's great knowing I can do the distance, but perhaps the challenge isn't quite there. Hmm no, that's not correct. It's a different kind of challenge this time. This time I want not just to run a marathon, but to run a good marathon. It will still be slow by the standards of most runners, but if I can crack 5 hours I'll be delighted.

Sun 16 June 2002

An action-packed day. I was up early to see Senegal surprisingly dump Sweden out of the World Cup, before pulling on my wellies and getting into the garden where I spent the rest of the morning marching up and down the lawn pursuing our ancient petrol mower. It has a mind of its own, which in many ways is an admirable quality in a piece of gardening equipment.

We spent a long time trying to find a house with a large garden, and eventually we did, but keeping the grass short is like painting the Forth Road Bridge. By the time you get to the end it's time to start at the beginning again. Actually, I enjoy it, though disposing of the masses of grass cuttings is a headache. Today's Everest sits in the far corner of the garden, and may one day be serviceable compost.

Lunchtime was the Ireland - Spain game. A cruel result for Ireland; they deserved to go through but if you don't take your chances...

Then a few hours turning the contents of the 14 cardboard boxes that have been obstructing the hallway all week, into a couple of wardrobes and chests of drawers and things. What fun that was.

And finally, at 7.30pm I got to do my 6 mile run. Actually it was 6.2 miles: another thing that's changed this time around is that I'm not going to be so anal about distances. In the London training I spent hours trying to find routes that were exactly 4 or 8 or 16 miles or whatever the schedule called for. Pointless. As long as the routes are not shorter than the specified distance, I'll do it.

I was itching to run, though I was pretty knackered after an active day. This was borne out by the time: 1 hour 13 minutes, or 11:47 per mile. Horribly slow but it doesn't matter. It was a pleasant jog up the canal. The only downside was the quantity of midges along the waterside. Two or three times I got mouthfuls of flies as I panted through the invisible clouds. Not pleasant.

On the flora and fauna front, I saw two herons fly past, and there plenty of rabbits playing around the towpath. Plus a spectacular fieldful of orange poppies. Several comatose anglers as well, deep in thought and uncommunicative. A very peaceful run and an ideal way to wind down after today.

The outward leg was tough but it got easier on the way home, with more comfortable breathing and a slightly slower heart rate. It was the longest run I'd done since mid-April and I was glad to get it under my belt.

One week gone and only another 17 to go. Yesterday we booked our flights to Chicago, so this really is going to happen now.

Next week >