When September ends . . .

[Sweder]

Or even when it starts . . . another vow to step up the training?
Maybe. Returned from Montreal on Monday determined to get back to my hills. My girls wanted to get a couple of miles in before this Sunday (Hydro Active Challenge 5K in Hyde Park) so I decided to saddle up despite the onset of jet-lag.

This week has seen yet more sporadic ventures. In summary:

Monday - 2 miles (with girls) gentle plod on the downs
Tuesday - 4 miles with the hounds - around 40 minutes, steady
Wednesday - sofa
Thursday - 2 hours badminton - OK, not running, but darned hot 'n' sweaty all the same
Friday - 18 holes at Seaford Head. Again, not strictly running but very hilly course and my legs ached like who-knows-what this morning. Shot an all-time best 74 too, so pretty chuffed.
Saturday - 5 miles (Black Cap offroad run) with hounds. 45 minutes round trip under a blood-red setting sun. Lovely.

I'll come back and add in Sunday if I manage to get out tomorrow after the trip to Hyde Park. The HRC at Piccadilly may be on the agenda, in which case a very slow plod is on the cards.

[Sweder]

Thanks to a crashed server at work I found myself waiting for the technician to finish up when I should have been home pulling on my running shoes. Resolved to get at least 5 miles in today, I finally arrived home at 7:25 pm. The sun had already made it's excuses and was busy descending behind the hills to the west when I dashed out of the house at 7:45, baying hounds in tow.

Right away I realised that if I was to complete 5 miles I would be finishing in the dark. That spurred me on. I puffed and panted manfully up the chalk-pathed slopes, chasing Apollo's glowing red chariot as it raced beyond the cloud-strewn horizon.

My early efforts took their toll after 2 miles, just about the time that the two steepest ascents of the outward leg combine to sap one's will. A wave of dispondency laced with nausea washed over me as I staggered through the livestock gates and into the fields of Black Cap. And yet darkness, as with time and tide, waits for no man, so it's away doom, begone gloom - run! Run to the hills!

Iron Maiden dutifully appeared in my earphones courtesy of Planet Rock, a live track from their soon-to-be-released double CD Death on the Road - such a cheery title. It occured to me as I laboured, breath rasping in the cool, damp air, to mention for the benefit of Nigel if no-one else that Iron Maiden are, to a man, staunch followers of West Ham. There, I've mentioned it.

To the summit of the Cap in 23:03, some 2 1/2 minutes faster than Saturday (around a minute per mile improvement). The inelegant sucking of air into my burning lungs suggested further improvement unlikely on the return leg, and so it proved. Home in 42:56, almost exactly (still) 2 1/2 minutes quicker than Saturday. It is possible that I might have shaved another minute or two off the descent, but in the interest of sound limbs I elected to take it easy, considering the complete lack of visibility whilst traversing dry, uneven, rock-strewn pathways a major factor.

A couple more of these this week and I'll be ready for something a little more substantial come Sunday.

[Nigel]

.... where the music is provided by West Ham supporters and the paths are strewn with rocks.

Now that is real poetry, young Sweder.

[Sweder]

Forsook a run for Duffer Badminton Tuesday night and enjoyed 2 hours gentle shuttle-thrashing in the Parish hall.

Belted home tonight to slip 5 miles in before the footie - oh foolish boy!
Still, a lovely evening for it, fabulous sunsets, a gentle, warm breeze caressing the South Downs Way. Plenty of 'Shearer' opportunities as cyclists and runners revelled in the perfect conditions.

Out in 24:13, home in 20:15 for a 43:28 round-trip.
Legs a little tired this evening, but that's a good thing - good to run on tired legs without pushing too hard. All verve for the write-up sapped by the inept performance of 'our boys' at Lansdowne Road, so we'll leave it there. Planning more badminton tomorrow, another 5 miler on Friday and at least a 16K at the weekend.

[Seafront Plodder]

...........All verve for the write-up sapped by the inept performance of 'our boys' at Lansdowne Road, so we'll leave it there. ...............

Which game were you watching then?

[Sweder]

Republic vs France of course -
was there anything else on?
B'stard Henri scored in the 73 rd minute after Irleand had hit the post and generally stayed on top in the first half.

Gutted.

[Sweder]

Having failed dismally to meet my target of a 5 miler after work on Friday - Mrs S called me on my way home from work and offered Fish n Chips for supper - I resolved to get out today come what may.

A late night (and a fabulous meal) with my American agent Mike, Mrs S and Mr & Mrs SP on Saturday night - including several bottles of an incomparable Fleurrie - did not deter me. I scheduled a wake-up call for 7am, planning a light snack and departure by 08:30.

Well, I woke up at 8:45, bleary-eyed and disoriented.
Damn. Ordinarily I'd abandon a run at this point - too much to do throughout the day, blah blah blah. Mike, SP and I were meeting at 2pm for 18 holes at Seaford Head, so I had a rapidly shrinking window for my run.

Black coffee, granary toast & honey consumed, dogs in tow and 5 Live Sports Xtra broadcasting high drama from the Oval piped in through my earphones, and I was out the door. Mercifully cool air and cloudy skies greeted us as we started the climb onto the Downs, and I set off at a very comfortable pace.

I reached Black Cap (appx 2.5 miles) in 25:06 and Ditchling Beacon (the turn at 5miles) in 48:38. A majority of the outward leg was uphill and appeared to be into the steady breeze. I say appeared to be; as I turned toward home I swear the wind changed direction. This so often happens, or appears to on a run, or on the golf course. I'm pretty sure when I'm running well or on top of my game, I don't notice these things. But this was my longest run for 3 months, and it's far from plain sailing.

I plodded eastwards, exchanging Shearers with cyclists, fellow plodders and dog-walkers alike. The gloom above lifted a little, and the temperature rose a couple of degrees. I was grateful of the sports drink/ water mix I'd elected to carry, though, rather like the losing gunslinger in cartoons of my youth, the liquid appeared to pour down my throat and directly out of a number of holes in my body.

I returned to Black Cap in 1:11:42, feeling a little stronger, and I kicked on. Home in 1:32:27 for close on 10 miles/ 16K. Outward (uphill) 5M/ 8K in 48 minutes, return 5M/ 8K in a little over 4 minutes quicker. Overall pace at 9 minute 12 second miles - within 2% of my FLM pace back in April.

A reasonable performance over hilly terrain after a dismall running summer; much to do before October 16th.

[Sweder]

For the record I struggled manfully against SP in the afternoon golf, but fell by 3 points, 43 to 40. 'Course, I was giving away 14 shots (mumble mumble Bandit mumble moan whinge) . . .

[Sweder]

A new name for the site at this time of year . . . ?
Incredibly, having reached the 'pinnacle' of a 10 miler on Sunday I haven't been out since. My pals in Brighton did 16 miles that day and plan an 18 miler 'hamstring killer' this weekend. I could point to the first Ashes win in a generation and the subsequent Flintoff-style celebrations, but it's a poor excuse.

So why post?
To publicly thrash myself into action, that's why . . .


_______________________
Sweder, Tellyside Layabout

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

So why post?
To publicly thrash myself into action, that's why . . .

No need to do that Sweder... that's what we're here for.

Garn gitoutovit ya lazy layabout nohoper couchhugger...

See?

[Sweder]

Suitably thrashed, MLCMan.
Sadly to no avail, as my seasonal (September) breakdown (colds, flu, any old chest-nasal related affliction) is in full swing.

Bring on the love-handles and the sofa-sores . . .

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

I would have thought 20+ days of test cricket would have brought on the flab and couch lesions without having to resort to illness as well.

Really Sweder, I do think you overdo things a tad.

[Sweder]

Well it looks like September will end much, for me, as it began - with little or no running. Once again work, the curse of both the drinking and the running classes, has cast her ugly shadow over my diary.

This week I've been heavily involved in a Helicopter show - if you're tempted to offer any that should really take off gags, sorry to say I've heard 'em. A nice bonus is the venue is the Imperial War Museum at Duxford, just shy of Cambridge on the M11.

Whilst my crew unloads and installs sections of Jelly-wobblers in the temporary structure we are serenaded by the throaty roar of WWII sky warriors such as the P51 Mustang, the B 17 Flying Fortress to name but two.
Sopwith camels join a variety of trainer and passenger aircraft in tours of the region, and the occasional whirlybird pops in, ready for display at our event.

Yesterday a two-seater Mark VIII Spitfire took one lucky passenger on a circumnavigation of Cambridge and her satellite villages. On the final fly-past through Aerodrome airspace the Pilot opted for a low, straffing run, follwed by a vertical climb into a victory roll before easing around to land on the grass.

I know that these things don't float everyone's boat, but I was moved beyond words at this awesome sight.
Filled with a growing sense of optimism and unprecedented anticipation I scurried off to find the lovely Rebecca, Lady of the Airfield and Knower Of All Things Duxford.
What are my chances of taking this unique journey, to fulfill my schoolboy dream, to thunder beneath September skies, the voice of Churchill echoeing through the Hertfordshire countryside?

The two year waiting list I could live with.
It was the three grand for 20 minutes that dampened my ardour.

Long days and short nights have left my body weary; running seems a lifetime away. The Jog Shop Jog, once a firm target, is three weeks away but it may as well be a year.
October promises damp weather, increased winds and a drop in temperature. Sounds promising.