Month: November 2003

Thought about a run this morning, then thought about something else instead. We spent the morning scouting the rest of the city, trying to come to terms with the bizarre conglomeration of natural beauty and urban chic. Here we have a splendid municipal hall and plaza, and a dense network of shopping streets; but over here, a few yards away, is a low wall, beyond which is a fabulous, golden beach, craggy cliffs and a froth of surfers padding along the sand.… READ MORE.... …

Didn’t manage a run this morning. Too busy planning the next stage of the journey. One lives and learns. A week before leaving the UK I checked the car rental rates for Bilbao, and was pleased to find that you can pick up a medium range vehicle for around £16 a day. Pretty good, I thought. Would it be even cheaper to book it locally?… READ MORE.... …

Morning run not an option. Too much gin last night, and too good a Bloody Mary at the hotel bar. Slept much better: no Aussies to worry about. Bilbao: interesting city, even when it rains all day. Today we took in the other major gallery, the Musee des Belle Arts. More conventional fare this time, but no less enjoyable for that.… READ MORE.... …

So. Where were you when England beat Australia in Sydney, to take the Rugby World Cup? Me? I was in a hotel room in Bilbao. I’d woken at 3:30am, and dozed fitfully till 9:45, fifteen minutes before kick-off. The anxiety that had kept me awake wasn’t centred on doubts about England’s chances (though I wasn’t over-confident), but a fear that I might not be able to get the game on one of the European channels here in the hotel room.… READ MORE.... …

This is what I meant, a week or two back, when I said that things can switch round for no very good reason. Last week I ran only once before doing the Brighton 10K on Sunday, and I’ve not run since. It’s 3 in the morning, and just now, nothing matters. Let’s have a holiday, then reconsider matters….… READ MORE.... …

It just hasn’t been a running week. I had at least some poor excuse for Wednesday morning, but how can the rest of the week be explained? It hasn’t been a lack of motivation. Monday was a rest day; Tuesday and Friday I overslept. This morning I slept in till 8:30, then remembered the Australia-New Zealand World Cup semi-final was about to start, so running was forgotten again.… READ MORE.... …

As Reading Gaol’s most famous alumni once remarked, “I can resist everything except temptation”. I seem to have the same… opportunity. So there I was on Tuesday, almost drowning in self-congratulation about my ascending good health, when the little matter of a football match came up. QPR were due to play our affable neighbours, Brentford, and I had a difficult decision to make.… READ MORE.... …

That’s better: the teachers have just got off. I’m not even certain they are teachers, but that’s what I call them. Whoever they are, there must be a sitcom somewhere searching desperately for them. A group of four thirty-something academic types, one woman, three men, who cause uproar and outrage on the Paddington train each morning. Their sin? Irrepressible jollity. They’re happy.… READ MORE.... …

What a week. I mentioned recently that I’ve had a work deadline hurtling towards me. This week it hit, and I’ve been too busy mopping up the blood to post much here. Monday to Thursday were 12 hour days (or 16 if I include travelling time). It’s been difficult and intense, but we just about got away with it. Yes, difficult and intense.… READ MORE.... …

The snowball has started its much harder journey back up the mountain. It’s like some perpetual battle between Good and Evil. This week, Good is fighting back. Whichever direction I’m moving, whether towards or away from my world record 2 hour marathon, there seems always to be some external momentum propelling me onwards. All things being equal, if I’m running regularly I keep running regularly; if I’m eating badly I keep eating badly.… READ MORE.... …