When I mentioned to a work colleague that we were planning to transport 90 people to Silverstone for a race, her eyes shot to the ceiling. “It’ll be like herding cats”, she said. Maybe that’s a general truth, but not in this case. One of the main reasons that I like running is that I like runners, and yesterday just reminded me why. Just about everything was on time. We turned up on time. The coaches turned up on time. The bagels and the bananas were ready on time at the Sainsbury’s Local, just round the corner from the meeting point. Best of all, our fellow runners turned up on time. With one exception. So the first coach left on … …
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The schedule said 6 miles, my purple toe said 4 miles. Always listen to the purple toe in these situations. Tomorrow it’s a rest day before the first race of the year: the Silverstone Half. … …
Fat people are about to be made illegal, apparently. Or surcharged. Instead of VAT, we’ll have FAT. The fuller figure will be squeezed till the hips squeak. Passports will be redundant, and instead, immigration officials will be issued with body-fat calipers. I have to put a brave face on this one. Maybe it’s the fillip I need to go that extra mile. To shed, finally, those last few remaining… 30 pounds. With every race comes a weight target. Silverstone is 204 lbs; Bath, the week after, 200. For the Copenhagen marathon in mid-May, my final target weight of 182. That’s where I was when I stopped smoking in 1996. None of these targets are ever reached of course, but such … …
It’s been a weekend of rediscovering old pleasures. Like sleeping bags. I awoke in one yesterday morning for the first time in a couple of decades. Comfort and snugness aside, it struck me that a sleeping bag makes a very effective contraceptive. Why not make them available from machines in public lavatories? And just as our centenarian citizens get a telegram from the Queen, why not a Prince Charles celebratory sleeping bag on our thirteenth birthdays? It would reduce teenage pregnancies at a stroke. We drove up to Huddersfield late on Friday night, where I still have a flat. Unlike everywhere else in the nation, property prices in this part of the world seem to have "remained stable", to apply … …
Mysterious thought for the week: But at my back I always hear Tranmere Rovers hurrying near. In the meantime, we must follow our duties to the frozen north, and will have no internet access. Having just seen the weather forecast (icy blizzards and a few inches of snow), I may be gone some time…… …
The first race of the year may arrive sooner than expected. Yorkshire beckons this weekend, and I’ve spied a handy local 10K that could fill a hole rather nicely. I’ll say nothing more at this stage: there are some choppy domestic waters to negotiate. Know what I mean, chaps? A chilly 3½ miles this morning. I was out by about 6:30, amazed at how light it is at this time now. The darkness has its own richness and its own challenges, but there’s nothing quite like being able to see the world when you run. The best thing about today’s jaunt was that I could really feel the effect of losing a few pounds recently. My weight targets for Silverstone … …
Blimey, two runs in one weekend. Just 3½ miles on a cheerless, astringent afternoon in rural England. Cold, bleak and blustery, but it’s another one in the bin, taking me up to 26 miles for the week. The last time I ran that much in a non-race week was more than a year ago. This no-beer diet is having some pretty undesirable side-effects.… …
That envelope must be quite a long way off by now, because I keep pushing it – albeit in my own, unremarkable, way. I wonder if it’s heading for the moon? Most of us are, according to David Hays and his otherwise useful running spreadsheet. It has a page called “Around The World” which has a couple of graphics showing how far we’ve run in our lives, and how much further we have to go before we, er, reach the moon. In my case, 248,568 miles. Right, I see. I’ll have a pint of what David Hays has been drinking. Someone should write a book about it: The Lunarness of the Long Distance Runner. A couple of rather … …
There’s a new name in the world of running today: Andy Commentary. That’s what it says on the front of the envelope that arrived this morning from the organisers of the Adidas Half Marathon at Silverstone. Quite a bizarre coincidence that it should arrive at my house, as I’ve also entered this event. With just 2½ weeks to go, it seems churlish to defer my excitement any longer about this, the first race of the season. Hurrah! Hurrah!! Hurrah!!! It’s true that I didn’t enjoy it much last year, but I’m giving it another chance. The location is unusual, though it can hardly be accused of being unsuited to racing: it’s a Formula One circuit. Last year I found … …
Have I ever talked about the Running Spiral? That’s just what I call it, but it’s a well-known phenomenon, and you probably know it as something else. The slippery slope. Thin end of the wedge. It’s the tendency for running to create a momentum in either direction. Getting into a regular running routine becomes a self-fuelling conveyance, and one that gets better and faster and stronger. Perhaps just a broken skateboard to start with, then a rusty bike, a creaking jalopy, a modest saloon, and finally a glittering people-carrier. And it ends up as one of those because the enthusiasm really does seem to transfer to others, and they too get swept along on your optimism. In reality they probably … …