Another 5:30 run, this time much stronger after yesterday’s rest day. It was also cool enough to try out my new, cheapie long-sleeved Aldi top and running jacket. Yes, they really work.… …
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Email to the Office of the Lord Chamberlain, Det Gule Palæ, Amaliegade 18, DK – 1256 Copenhagen (Hofmarskallatet@kongehuset.dk): Dear Sirs We are travelling to Copenhagen from the UK for the marathon on May 16, 2004. We are arriving on Friday 14 May, but understand that the royal wedding is on Thursday 13th. We wondered if it might be possible to move the joyful event back 24 hours please? In this way, we would be able to attend the ceremony and pay our respects. I hope this will not cause too much inconvenience to the happy couple. Thanking you in advance. Respectfully yours Andrew ***** That should do the trick. It’s quite heartening to note how many creative diplomatic … …
Decision time. I’ve had to write off two complete training weeks, and I’m still not ready to run, so I’ve decided to go for the Copenhagen Marathon on May 16th, three weeks after the original target day. That gives me one more week of recovery and easing back, before the start of the 18 weeks. Why Copenhagen? Well, why not? It’s at the right time, it’s a place we’ve not been to before, the race has a good reputation, and flights are cheap. That’s it, job done. Copenhagen 2004, here we come. It feels better to have a definite race now. For the last few weeks I’ve been aiming for the end of April, but keeping my options open about … …
YO HO HO, and a Happy New…. [deep sigh] No. I can’t be arsed either. Sorry. I’ve had enough of being wished, and wishing, all sorts of delightful things. Let’s rip down those dinky little winking lights; the pseudo-magical paraphernalia of seasonal beneficence. Yes, goddamit, I love you all, but I’m just… I’m just bored to death having to tell you, and having to listen to you telling me. I’m also horribly bored with my illness. It was sorta interesting for a while. All that wacky phlegm, and those awesome Baskerville-like coughs. But these questionable entertainments have been amusing me for about ten days now, and I’m done. I’ve read the book, watched the show, stamped my way through … …
For a hardened atheist like me, it was quite a shock to open my eyes this morning and think, “Crikey, there really is an afterlife”. And to discover that Hell had been modelled on our back bedroom. Always was a bit untidy, but not that bad, I thought. Eventually, the terrible truth revealed itself: I was still of this earth. I remembered I’d quarantined myself in the servants’ quarters while I still have this cold. The main consolation was not to have suffered the eternal torment of expiring before the end of the football season. Since Nick Hornby first mentioned the terror of dying without knowing who won the FA Cup, in Fever Pitch, it’s become the principal worry … …
This is probably my last ever entry. I’ve spent most of the day in bed, computing famous last words to croak as M dabs my throbbing temples. I expect Death sometime later this evening (after Coronation Street, I hope), but unless M updates this website, you will never know what rib-rattling witticism passed my lips as I drifted away towards that great compost heap in the sky. Farewell, my friends. U RRRRRRsssss!!!… …
And so, my first week of marathon training comes to an end. One 3.5 mile run on the board, followed by 5 days of illness. I wonder if coughing can be counted as cross-training? It can get pretty vigorous when I put my mind to it. I’m convinced that each week of running must uncover some great truth or lesson, if only we can find it. This week’s big blob of wisdom is pretty unmissable though. It’s this: that a plan is a thing of great beauty. It can take hours, days, weeks, years, to germinate and develop and adjust. We can spend every spare moment polishing it until we can see our great, fat, smug faces grinning back at … …
The Grim Reaper must have had a few sherries this morning. His sickle kept clattering against the window, waking me every hour or so. I woke for the last time at one in the afternoon, my longest lie-in for years. I’m ill. Still. Too ill to run. Nothing serious, just a bad cough and a wheezey chest and a blocked nose. Illness fascinates me as it so rarely affects me. I can’t exactly claim to enjoy it, but anything that distorts reality, changes perceptions and challenges assumptions has something going for it, as long as it’s temporary. "That which does not kill me, makes me stronger". Good old Nietzsche. I’ve long believed in the wisdom of that saying. Similar to: … …
The pessimist would say that becoming ill just after starting marathon training is a terrible portent, while the optimist dismisses such negativity, pointing out that if you’re going to go down with something, then the first week, and particularly if it’s Christmas week, is a great time for it to happen, as it’s the furthest point from the race, and anyway, Christmas week is always going to be a bit hit-and-miss for training. I’m an optimist, so I’m relaxed about the sore throat, the cough and the miraculous appearance of a pillow inside my head. Anyway, after seeing Lord of the Rings III this afternoon, I’m counting my blessings. No longer will I complain about having an uneventful life. Crikey. … …
More than 1% of the way through this marathon campaign already. Must be time for a run, and for the first outing with this new Garmin Forerunner GPS gadget. When I did the London marathon two years ago, I remember approaching that first day with dread and anxiety. Today was different. It must sound pitiful to more rational ears than mine, but I woke this morning feeling excited and happy. Not quite like a kid on Christmas morning, which is the simile within easiest temporal reach, but I was unusually reluctant to loiter in bed once the alarm clock reached 5:40. I left the house with the GPS, realising with some bewilderment that I didn’t know how to start the … …