Author: andy

Things are trying to get back to normal. The old normal. The post-mid-September normal. The new enemy has been the skies. Most runners like a bit of rough in the weather department. Rain is to running what vinegar is to chips: greater than the sum of the parts. We can even embrace the stage or two beyond mere rain, but there’s a limit to this pain-pleasure principle. Snow is usually good, but ice is pushing things just a little. Too much of a good thing. Here in Berkshire, the festive cascade began the day after the last entry. I’d been out for a dogged, and very cold, 4 miles. Within minutes of reclaiming the warmth, and emerging from the shower, … …

Hangovers are rare beasts around these parts, but one has come a-prowling today. Not a desperately savage example, but enough to keep me subdued. It’s prompted the usual self-interrogation, and taken me through the drinker’s faulty arithmetic in which two parts of pleasure somehow have to be shown to equal the three parts of pain that follow. The proposition never quite works out. It seemed such a good idea at the time. A post-race reward. Liverpool v Arsenal on the TV on the pub, and a few pints of London Pride. Exchanging manly small-talk about the referee. Then home to cook and eat the pork, swilling it down with a glass or two of Aldi’s reliable Chianti. And all very … …

At last, after many weeks of trudging through a dense jungle of commitments, the weary traveller reached a small clearing. He marvelled at the sudden sense of light, and clarity. “I have been unable to see, and thus I have been invisible”, he mused. It’s been an eventful few weeks, with so much to write about that I’ve not had the time to log it. Now, finally, I seem to have arrived at a natural break between one list of overpowering assignments and the next. Best grab the chance to skim off and serve up the more newsworthy bits. We were off to a health spa last time I passed this way. At Ragdale Hall, I found that relaxation can … …

Eagle-eyed followers of my desultory tweeting (www.twitter.com/runningcomm) will be aware that on Tuesday I was visited by an urge to get hold of a medicine ball. So on my way to the gym that evening, I called into Argos, emerging with a formidable 6 kg rubber specimen. Yep, with handles, and everything. I went for the handled one because it was described as being “easier to use”. Later, I wondered if that was much of a selling point for an item that is bought specifically to offer a difficult workout. The rain was ceaseless yesterday. Normally, this is no disincentive. In fact it almost adds to the appeal, as it emphasises this saintly sense of self-sacrifice. But yesterday? … …

Hellifield Gala Fell Race – Saturday 2nd Aug A contemplative start on the first ascent. [url]http://www.photos-dsb.co.uk/hellifield%2009/content/Hellifield_Fell_Race_2009_118_2_large.html[/url] The damage is done. [url]http://www.photos-dsb.co.uk/hellifield%2009/content/Hellifield_Fell_Race_2009_173_2_large.html[/url] Another valuable learning experience. Mainly concerning the fact that fell shoes need to be a really snug fit to deal with the fast and uneven descents. It serves me right for trying out new kit in a race. But descending is also a real skill that will take some time to get half-descent at. And 3.5 miles turns out to be alot longer than it sounds when the first half is up a big hill. Obvious when you say it like that. Not so obvious when everybody is charging to the end of the first field. And Junior GM … …

Note: This entry was created over several weeks. The great bulk was written while in the USA, but I wasn’t happy with it, so I left it to congeal on my local drive. On May 17, I padded it out, and have retained the perspective of this date for the post, even though I have tried to soften its sharper edges since then. And I will almost certainly tinker with it some more. In particular, I have a lot of photographs and pieces of video from the race, and from our subsequent travels, that I need to do something with. Seventeen days in the USA after the Boston marathon was always going to be risky. I try to avoid clichés … …

The end of Week 19 (counting back from Boston). I got the 3 key runs in, and the 3 cross-training gym sessions. Sounds great, yet the week didn’t go quite as planned. With M away Monday and Tuesday, I managed to resist the lure of alcohol the first night, but slipped out to the pub on Tuesday, hoping in vain to see Chelsea chased out of the Champions League by a bunch of plucky Transylvanians. The London Pride never tasted richer or more satisfying, but I didn’t overdo it. Yet it was still enough to disrupt my routine, and presented me with the first week in 2 months when my weight didn’t dip to a new low. This shameful statistic … …

It’s been quite a 24 hours. It started on such a gentle note, too, in the Asics shop in Argyll Street, just opposite the London Palladium. I went to have my feet analysed. The smiling Japanese girl was a delight, and just giggled at my very English embarrassment at not having cut my toenails in a while. She carried on attaching tiny black stickers to a selection of my pedal protruberances without any outward sign of disgust. I then had to put each foot into a sort of box, before a lid was attached and locked down so securely that I had to wonder if I’d ever be reunited with the far end of my body. This is what appeared … …

Crying out loud Another step forward. Four miles on a mild and bright evening, with the run element of the run:walk ratio back over 50%. The aim is to keep it creeping up, but I won’t let it reach 100% before I’m a stone lighter than I was at the start of this week. The good news, as predicted, is that the pounds are sliding off. The gains so easily made over the last few weeks and months are just as easily removed — to begin with, at least. I’ve become something of a running wuss in recent years. It was only two years ago that a jacket became standard issue on cold winter mornings. For the four years or … …