Running a marathon through its streets has given me a bond with Chicago, whether I like it or not. (And as it happens, I don’t mind…). On a freezing morning a couple of days after the marathon, I went for a wander up Madison Avenue to the magnificent Chicago Tribune building, in search of a newspaper. You can read about it here.… READ MORE.... …
Blog Posts
Life goes on. It was around 10:30 this morning that I first heard about the bombs on the London Underground and the Russell Square bus. For a couple of hours, there was a sense of shock around the office – not helped by the lack of hard news. Rumours of further attacks and mounting body counts kept the internet humming for most of the morning, before my capacity for grotesque wonder was fully charged, and it became time to do something else.… READ MORE.... …
You almost have to feel sorry for Monsieur Chirac. Almost. Compared with Blair, he’s not been having a great time of it recently. Unpopular at home; losing the vote on the EU constitution; failing to wring a concession from Blair over “the cheque”; Blair delivering that barnstormer of a speech to the European parliament about the need to modernise and grasp the opportunities of new technology, while Jacques made himself look old and dinosaur-like by defending the indefensible, outmoded Common Agricultural Policy instead; the Battle of Trafalgar celebrations; the backfiring remarks about English cuisine; the UK leading the debate on Africa and global warming; the UK hosting the G8 conference; the UK starting their 6 month chairing of the EU Commission; and now, today, the final humiliation: the 2012 Olympics snatched from the jaws of Parisian victory by yet another inspirational tub-thump by his irritatingly young and articulate adversary from across the Channel.… READ MORE.... …
I don’t believe in astrology. Perhaps this is a Cancerian trait. God and the stars; tarot cards and alien abduction – emotional Big Macs for those who need their hunger satisfied, and quickly, without the inconvenience of having to think for themselves. Low hanging fruit for those who don’t want to have to reach too far. There – I’ve put my cards on the table.… READ MORE.... …
“If we don’t change direction soon, we’ll end up where we’re going.” I’ve no idea who Irwin Corey is, but his warning was in my mind as I embarked on another toughie this evening with the running club. Only 42 minutes, but the 4 and a bit miles we covered were one long, dramatic splosh through thunder and lightning, and a torrent of warm rain.… READ MORE.... …
It hurts your backside the first few times you try it, but the pleasure eventually comes if you persist with it. Cycling. Today was supposed to be a rest day but I thought a spot of two-wheeled cross training might be a good way of squeezing those faggots through my intestines. For the benefit of American readers, I should explain that a faggot in Britain is different from an American one.… READ MORE.... …
I’ve bent over backwards to try and improve my stretching techniques, but I still don’t feel as supple as I’d like at this stage of a marathon training schedule. I keep looking at the figures in my spreadsheet, trying to make sense of the apparent fact that I’ve managed a perfectly respectable 29 miles this week, yet still feel unfit, undertrained and, like Marx’s proletarian hero, in a state of perpetual struggle.… READ MORE.... …
Not much to report beyond a distended, clammy 4 miler this evening that I struggled to finish without a walk break. What’s preventing me from feeling on top of my running at the moment? Is it the weather? Or my current corpulence? Dehydration? Lack of motivation? No, it’s not really any of these things, though none of those first three help the situation.… READ MORE.... …
Midsummer Night. After that pretty dismal showing at the weekend, I’ve now managed 3 runs in 24 hours. It’s not an attempt to catch up – that’s not a strategy that seems to work. I just need to find some fitness again after a slothful few weeks. I’m finding it hard to shift the excess weight, and to feel really good about my running again.… READ MORE.... …
Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I didn’t go for my long run today. Actually, my dad didn’t mind, and didn’t even seem that interested in my confessional when I called to wish him a happy Father’s Day. Phew, what a scorcher. I rarely believe anything that Texans say, but I should have taken the advice of those guys from Austin we sat next to at the pasta dinner in Chicago, the evening before the marathon in 2002.… READ MORE.... …