Wrighty's Running

Olympics and Max

2012-01-28T19:19:00.006Z

Had a bit of time to kill at Paddington station on Thursday, so after checking out the sushi bar, replenishing my cash from the hole in the wall and having a surprisingly decent pint in the pub on the first floor (went in there as it was the only place around to have a 'free' pee), I strolled into the London 2012 Olympics shop. As expected it was full of absolute dross and was deserted despite a thronging buzz of humanity pervading the station concourse. Even in the unlikely event of finding something worth purchasing, I would have walked out because there was only one acceptable pay method: "we are proud to accept only Visa" proclaimed a sign near the door, enough to put anyone off. Spectators will find this when they flock to all the events in the summer (Visa & Cola being the dominant brands). What would Baron de Coubertin make of this rampant commercialism?

Some other recent headlines that make me angry that London bid and won the Olympics (my feelings have been made very clear, Paris had the infrastructure in place yet London won the bid due to politics ... wrong):

"Games venues likely to cost taxpayer millions."

"Recession blamed as Olympics fails to inspire youngsters."

"Olympic Park loses 75% of its value."

"Union chief crows about £2,500 Olympics deal for DLR drivers."

On top of all that, Cameron decides to double the budget for the pointless opening & closing ceremonies despite assurances in previous years that Britain would not try to match Beijing with wasted money and would mark these events with some prudence. So all this nonsense about China ramming their corrupt system down our throats with sick amounts of money is now being mirrored by Britain. Add in the Plastic Brits, mainly athletes who have competed for the US but realised they are not good enough so have found a way of ingratiating themselves into a GB vest at the expense of others more worthy, despite a broad American accent, then drape themselves in the union flag ... arghh! Plus the marathon not finishing in the stadium, the first time this iconic sporting moment will be lost at the Olympics, because London is embarrassed by its East End, why? Finally we have the sickening thought of an ageing David Beckham captaining the England - sorry, Great Britain - football team despite no longer being good enough to play for an English league team.

Anyway, despite all that I was mighty impressed by Mo's 1500m in Glasgow today, what an athlete thanks to Alan Storey. All the credit is going to Alberto Salazar but Farah was already on his way before they teamed up - I was in Barcelona to see him destroy the 5000m field in the Euro Champs in 2010, one of the most powerful performances I've ever seen.

Of course, if anyone does have a spare ticket - a good friend of mine this week got a call out of the blue and managed to purloin one for an evening athletics session ... for free! - I would be very happy to partake in the experience. Otherwise I'll just have to take Natalie on our annual father/daughter bonding session to a Diamond League meet somwhere in Europe - she's talking New York, I'm not!

Back on the domestic front, I attached a number to my Cirencester vest for the first time in over two years to take part in the Boxing Day 4m Challenge at Cheltenham Racecourse. It was great to meet up with some old pals - Paul Barlow, Dave Newport, Andy Prophett, Andy McCoy and a few others - as well as to trigger memories of the late 'Speedy' Pete Holmes who died so tragically at such a young age and whose name is on the trophy for the day's individual winner. Sadly, but not surprisingly, it wasn't me this year but I enjoyed pottering around and it was great to be in a mildly competitive race situation again.

After the race we spent the rest of Boxing Day with my sister Hazel and brother-in-law Max (pictured at our place) and others at their rented cottage in Whelford. We had a wonderful lunch, chatted about all sorts of issues, but mainly the state of the Euro, drank some wine, ate well and felt good about life. Two days later Max died at the age of 61. Puts into perspective all those silly little issues that we carry around with us all the time. RIP Max, I can still remember you cheering me on in the Olympic Trials Marathon in Milton Keynes in 1980 and being amazed that I then went on to party all night in St John's Wood with my Aussie mates!

Dylan

2011-12-17T19:42:00.010Z

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

Dylan Thomas didn't know what he was starting by penning those words. At my relatively tender age I shouldn't even be contemplating them but so many things have happened to my mind and body that there is a limit to how much fight I have in me. Pathetic really compared to some others I know, including two octogenarians who are still enjoying their running (as has been recorded on this blog), plus another friend who still runs despite the ravages of cancer. There is a limit to how much I can put up with though; my body is battered, disintegrating like a badly packed kebab.

Anyway, I've hung in there this autumn and despite my better judgement have completed and, I have to say, enjoyed, another two mob matches. Bone dry conditions clearly helped as I eased my aching body across Wimbledon Common against Thames Hare & Hounds and in Richmond Park, not chasing You Tube's famous dog Benson but as part of Ranelagh's winning team against the Heathens. I even won the handicap in the park thanks to my cunning plan of running so slowly in the last two years. Before both I ran another Parkrun in Swindon (see picture), smashing the 20 minute barrier once again!

A couple of things have caught my eye in recent weeks. Firstly, I was really interested to read in AW that top international cyclist Emma Pooley, who won the world time trial championships in 2010 and will be an integral part of the women's team for next year's Olympic road race, ran in the Lakeland Trail 14km race at Helvellyn in November. What caught my eye was that she not only won the race but she beat Susan Partridge, Britain's top marathoner in 2011 thanks to her performance in the World Championships in Daegu. That says an awful lot about the fitness levels and professionalism of British cycling right now.

Secondly, hard training sessions ... a piece in AW charted some athletes' toughest sessions; my favourite was top ultra runner Jez Bragg who cited 3 x Snowdon (yes, the highest mountain in Wales) as part of his build up to major races - that's an impressive hill session and makes my old 10 x Richmond Hill look pretty pathetic. Another set of sessions that impressed, albeit with a tinge of sadness, was that of George Dayantis: the England ultra distance international wrote about his build up to a big 100km race in a recent Road Runners Club newsletter, it involved successive long Sunday runs of 50km, 60km, 70km. The sadness is that earlier this year he died.

The nearest I got to anything like these sessions was in a Dutch race I did five times with Ranelagh. The Barendrecht 100km track relay involved a four man team each running 62 x 400m with 3½ minutes recovery (in my best year I averaged 68 seconds). We won it four times with a best time of 4hr 46m (work it out in marathon terms, it's pretty rapid). The picture shows us winning in 1982 with, from left, Simon Collingridge, me, Simon Hedger & Steve Pautard. Our record breaking team was the same apart from Mike Riley replacing Hedger; I was slightly slower than Collingridge, my flatmate at the time - so I wasn't even the fastest runner in my house! Simon, like me, has been featured in Ranelagh's "12 of the best" link which is reproduced here (more to come, including Hugh Jones hopefully): http://www.ranelagh-harriers.com/interviews.html

More soon on my thoughts on the London Olympics ... oh dear!

Give Peas a Chance

2011-10-26T20:19:00.006+01:00

Should we be worried about education standards or should we just admire the wit of this bizarre piece of graffiti spotted adorned on a railway bridge above the M25 last weekend? I prefer to think it's the latter: having wrapped many frozen packets of the little green orbs around various parts of my broken body over the years, I've clearly not given the poor mites a chance to give pleasure on the dinner table where they belong, preferably pressed and mixed in with mashed potato alongside a nice piece of (batterless) fish.

It was on my way to a grand occasion that took me under the graffiti laden bridge. Of the four other clubs Ranelagh race every year in mob matches, Orion Harriers is much the youngest (Thames Hare & Hounds being the oldest, having been founded around 1867). Orion was founded in 1911, so are celebrating their centenary this year. Rather than the usual two teams competing, all five members of this elite club were invited to a mass mob match, with the extra celebration of sampling Orion's new clubhouse for the first time (some of us remember outside washing facilities from many years ago). Epping Forest was looking a true picture on a beautiful sunny autumnal day. More importantly, following an unseasonally warm and dry spell the usual quagmire conditions were nowhere to be seen. You cannot believe what a difference that made to an old crock like me!

As regular readers (surely there can't be any ...) will know, my training has been dire for two years now and the cumulative effect of this is really digging in, irrespective of what aches & pains are flavour of the month (for what it's worth, currently both Achilles, one shoulder and my left big toe, don't even ask, I've no idea). Having dropped Claudie off at East Midlands airport to visit her stricken mother, I took the opportunity to meet up with old friend, Andy Bradley, who lives nearby. This was just two days before the mob match so I suggested to Andy that we had a run before the far more pleasurable aspects of Derbyshire life, namely an old fashioned pub and a pint or two of Marstons Pedigree. After walking up the nearest hill from Chevin Road, we started our run on a lovely high level track looking across the Peak District, then ran down through some meadows and back alongside the River Derwent. It was a pleasant 45 minutes and gave me confidence that maybe another 'mob' was viable.

Winner and runner-up of the Chevin '5'

To the race itself: after a few team photos, speeches and traditional club cries, around 200 took to the one lap circuit through the forest. As anticipated I was able to run at a reasonable pace on the flat stretches but really struggled on the many hills. A finishing position of 73rd had very little merit other than being one of the few I've not previously managed over my 144 mobs (every position between 1 and 35 has been encountered at least once). Orion, of course, won the team race comfortably, which is at it should be. A commemorative mug and fine free tea spread was very welcome as was the beer at a local hostelry before the journey home.

Thanks to Orion's centenary I have to get my aching body through five rather than the usual four mobs this winter. Hopefully the rain will stay away all winter ...

Ed Whitlock

2011-10-17T13:22:00.004+01:00

This man just becomes ever more amazing. Yesterday in Toronto Ed ran a 3.15.54 marathon ... he is 80 years old and broke his own world V80 record by 10 minutes, which in itself was another 15 minutes better than the previous best. Ed - seen here with me and Dutch friend Alex in Rotterdam five years ago - is a lovely self effacing character who just loves running.

I was pretty impressed to note last night that just a few hours after his great performance it had been updated to Wikipedia. Who does these things ...?

In the World Masters Championships in Sacramento, California this year Ed won the V80 1,500 by 90 seconds in 5.48; the 5,000 by 4 minutes in 21.32 and the 10,000 by 11 minutes in 42.39, all three times were world records of course.

He invariably wears his Ranelagh vest when racing even though his link with our club is relatively tenuous: he ran once or twice in the 60's before emigrating to Canada. He's come down to the club a couple of times in recent years and been royally treated. What a man!

Eat more cake

2011-10-10T13:04:00.004+01:00

In one of the weekend supplements recently I read an interview with the universally popular Michael Johnson - why can't all sports tv commentators say what they really think rather than what they feel viewers want to hear? - about his daily routine. In a move that may lose him a few admirers, he stated that both when he was an elite athlete and now that he's a relative couch potato, he eats a lot of burgers. Shock, horror! Today's 'new' runners will be amazed that an elite athlete did such a thing. Steve Cram was the same, loved his burgers. One of the great US marathoners of the 70's (either Frank Shorter or Bill Rodgers) came out with the great phrase when interviewed that he was on a seafood diet: no, he wasn't a Rick Stein fanatic, but such was his hunger that when he could see food he would eat it! The point being that to sustain big mileage and hard training he had to put fuel back into the engine, thus lots of protein, carbohydrates and calories, nothing scientific. You cannot be an Olympic marathon champion on carrot sticks alone.

I was in the local garden centre recently on a midweek day off and stopped off with Claudie for a coffee. On the counter were cakes and pastries perfect for a runner (so not for me!), but I couldn't resist and got stuck in to both mine and half of Claudie's. Brought back memories of lunchtime training runs in London followed by a couple of pints and a big salt beef sandwich in the pub, before dropping in to the deli on way back to the office for a couple of buns. Happy days.

My 'running' went back on hold in early August when my left 'good' Achilles popped and I had to abort a three mile run halfway through and walk back. Six weeks off completely and I'm now back with some gentle jogging. For the first time I tried Kinesio taping, as seen on a lot of athletes these days (Lisa Dobriskey was covered in the stuff at the World Champs), and although a bit of a cynic I have to state that the pain eased a lot quicker than I expected and certainly quicker than ever before. Time will tell if there's real improvement.

Finally, I read a very sad story in the paper this weekend and one that all we runners should take note of. Bill Smith, a 75 year old veteran member of Clayton-le-Moors Harriers (Ron Hill's club) and a well known figure in fell running circles (he'd written a book on the subject), was found dead in a peat bog on Saddle Fell in the Trough of Bowland. The area was so remote that his body wasn't discovered for three weeks - he'd apparently fallen whilst on a training run. Two things: when going out running alone, particularly if off road, tell someone your planned route (the fell may have been particularly remote but I can think of plenty of places within five miles of my home where I've run and never seen a soul); secondly have some form of identification on you. You just never know ...

Summer of sport

2011-08-03T19:08:00.007+01:00

This is a running blog intended to chart my experiences in this great sport. Sadly there have been precious few running happenings over the last two years hence big gaps in my musings. There is little that can be written about Parkruns, the only events I've partaken in; they are the ultimate fun runs with usually 99% outside 20 minutes.

Anyway, following on from last year's July odyssey following/supporting athletics/athletes around Europe - Cork, Paris, Barcelona - I have been to a trio of big events in recent times, although only one was outside the UK and they were different sports. I started with an excellent day on Wimbledon's Centre Court (Murray; Nadal v Del Potro; Williams, V) with Claudie, courtesy of tickets from running mate Andy Bradley; then forayed down to the French Riviera and a new country for me, Monaco, for the Diamond League athletics meeting; finally to the Cheltenham Cricket Festival for Glos v Surrey. All three were played out in glorious summer sunshine, a real bonus in our fickle weather cycles.

Add to these big events the incomparable Tour de France, superbly compered by ITV4 (athletics broadcasters take note), the ever enjoyable British Open and some exciting Formula One races (I walked through Monaco's F1 tunnel, quite an experience) and you have the usual wonderful summer of sport with still the World Athletics Champs to come.
Whilst both the tennis and cricket were enjoyable, the fitness levels of the male tennis players being of particular interest, the highlight was Monaco. The Diamond League is certainly well marketed - it clearly helps when Usain Bolt is participating - and has to be the best value for money in sport with our tickets, in row one just after the finish line, a mere €6. (I doubt that this week's Diamond League at Crystal Palace will be quite such good value but Monaco was clearly priced to ensure a full house.) The super cool Phillips Idowu was on our plane, he's certainly not the archetypal travelling international athlete, dressed more like a break dancer.

Highlight of the meeting was Mo Farah's superb 12:53 UK 5000 metre record. As is his wont these days, he lay well off the fast pace in the early laps, which I thought a little dangerous given the quality of the field - all the top Africans bar Bekele, plus Rupp, Lagat and Solinsky from the USA - but when the pacemakers pulled out the field concertinaed as the lap times dropped a few seconds from the 62s that were being churned out. Farah then took charge and looked dominant as he outsprinted Lagat down the home straight whilst the other two Americans both tripped over African legs and dropped out of the race, Solinsky taking his anger out on a pot plant and an advertising hording with his fist / foot (not the first fight of the night either ...).

Is Farah's breakthrough this year all down to his move to Alberto Salazar's group in America? I don't think so; it has clearly helped, not least in lifestyle in comparison to Kenya for him and his young family. The breakthrough was coming anyway: I was in Barcelona for his superb win in the European 5000. As with all running, development takes time as conditioning kicks in (club runners be patient and learn!). I just hope that the famed hard task master Salazar gets the balance right and Mo doesn't get tipped over the precipice. Interesting times ahead for the little guy.

The Monaco meeting built to a wonderful crescendo with Bolt and local hero Christophe LeMaitre on the start line of the 100m at the same time as France's other hero, Renaud Lavillenie was attempting 6.07 in the pole vault at the far end of the stadium and right in front of us, the amazing diva Blanka Vlasic was going for 2.01 in the high jump. Then instead of the steeplechase being 'after the Lord Mayor's show' it was an incredibly fast three way race with Brimin Kipruto (Kenyan of course) missing the world record by 0.01 of a second in 7:53.64. Wonderful stuff all for €6 and we got fireworks at the end. I highly recommend Diamond League meets, this was my second, they make for a great weekend away. In a little under three hours there is non-stop track and field action from the finest athletes in the world and there are no interruptions for inane talk from Colin Jackson & Jonathan Edwards - yes you actually get to see field and longer track events develop.

... and the fight? At the end of the men's 1500 and again right in front of us, two French team mates of North African origin, Mehdi Baala and Mahiedine Mekhissi, squared up. First Baala head butted his adversary then they both threw an avalance of punches at each other. There was nothing about that in the programme.

Gavin Jones, World Champion

2011-07-18T13:06:00.005+01:00

Yesterday my old Ranelagh chum Gavin Jones, who now lives in Rome, won the World Masters V50 marathon in Sacramento, California in 2.40.12. It was close, he only won by 25 seconds. Really chuffed, especially as I suggested last year that he should enter; my last words to him a few days ago were "you can win this".

Gavin's pictured at the bottom of this blog: he's the one with hair in the Ranelagh centenary picture and without hair 25 years later!

As I had to be in Swindon on Saturday, I had a pleasant potter around the Parkrun, smashing the 20 minute barrier in the rain and wind. No damage appears to have resulted. Picture shows strength of the wind as well as the work still needed to be done: have I really already lost 1½ stone?!

Another setback

2011-06-26T19:46:00.005+01:00

Time to join in the general haranguing of LOCOG about the dire organisation of the Olympic ticketing set-up? After all I got no tickets at all ... it has to be stated that I didn't actually apply for any so this could have had a bearing on the absolute zero achieved. So, was it an almighty cock up? Frankly, no. If the gullible British public were willing to put up hundreds of pounds on their credit card (Visa, of course, Mastercard not accepted as they are not sponsors of the Olympics, that great amateur sporting event) on the off chance of getting tickets for nondescript morning heats of athletics or Greco-Roman wrestling, more fool them. Don't complain if you got the tickets you didn't want (why apply?) or none at all, that's life. What is the whole thing about wanting tickets, any tickets? Surely you only go to watch something if you are interested in it. What is the point in someone going to the high diving, a very technical event, if they know nothing about the sport other than the fact that some spotty teenager from GB is a medal contender? By the very nature of the event there are not many seats so an outsider buying a ticket means that someone with a great interest in the sport can't get in. That's wrong and is the same in all the sports. Why are people willing to pay hundreds of pounds for the 100m final, an event that lasts less than 10 seconds? It's beyond me. Presumably it's just to say, 'I was there' and impress their friends.

All this makes me want to write about the total lack of awareness about athletics from within athletics clubs these days, but that can wait for another day.

So, my setback has nothing to do with the Olympics. As previously reported I've been building my running up incredibly gradually and with real patience, so what happened last Sunday was very frustrating. I went out for an easy 20 minute potter around town; it was going perfectly pleasantly with no issues until in one stride I felt my left Achilles 'pop'. All my problems in recent times have been with the right Achilles so this was out of the blue and for no apparent reason. Of course I was at the furthest point from home, namely 10 minutes, so struggled home before applying ice. Next day was hobbling about something rotten. It's eased in recent days but I have absolutely no confidence in going out running again. It seems my body is telling me something: broken body, broken mind. Time to stop.

"a writer (runner) has a quiet, inner motivation, and doesn't seek validation in the outwardly visible." Another corker from Haruki Murakami in his philosophical tome What I talk about when I talk about running.

Anyway, off to Wimbledon tomorrow. Lucky enough to get Centre Court tickets so will see Andy, Rafa & Venus amongst others. Never been to this hallowed turf - other that to play cricket at the adjoining Aorangi Park many years ago (memories: big defeat, lots of beers, major thunderstorm over corrugated iron shed bar around midnight) - although just missed out on being a ball boy as our school provided such youngsters. As I was in school cricket team I couldn't be spared on Saturdays (something to do with my wicked inswinging yorkers it appears) so missed out. Looking forward to the tennis: Murray is a fascinating character and gets a mixed press but I admire his honesty and dedication. There are a lot of similarities with running, the only way to succeed is to be single-minded, ruthless and tough. Murray (& Radcliffe in running) have this attitude, so many others who are far more talented than these two don't have it. As I've said so many times to people, it's all about dedication over the long term.

Finally, it's July this week and the bi-annual world masters athletics champs in Sacramento, USA. I ran in the last version in Finland two years ago, my last proper race. I have high hopes for my old Ranelagh chum Gavin Jones (no. 80 in picture), British but living in Rome, to come home with a gold medal in the V50 marathon. Would love to be there myself but Gavin's the man and gold beckons.

Race for Life

2011-06-06T20:52:00.005+01:00

Went for a run yesterday and got as far as Cirencester Park. With regular runs throughout 2011, I'm at least building some sort of base without overstretching myself: started with five minute jogs then a couple of months at 10-15 minutes a couple of times a week; now can manage up to 30 mins although mostly easy runs around 15-20 mins only. No real change healthwise as everything hurts from head to Achilles, but weight still dropping slowly and it's so lovely just to be able to run.

In the park I stumbled across a mass of pink as (mainly) ladies gathered for the 5km Race for Life. One small group of half a dozen were congregated behind one of the park's many stone follies; as I reached them I realised they were having a smoke before the race. Killing themselves whilst trying to save others, a juxtaposition if ever there was one. My first reaction was what idiots they were but then I decided that their outing was pretty impressive and deserved of praise. Would like to know what time they ran and what state they were in at the end, mind.

Talking of smokers, a promised mention for Sue Soar, the aunt of one of my oldest mates Rob Wise (I once took 5-14 as we skittled his U14 school team out for about 30, although he insists that he cover drove me to the boundary, about as likely as Rob managing to run as well as he talks about running [he's a scholar on the sport and would make a great coach]). Sue was born in 1939 and although she's run for many years, was a smoker until just three years ago. Since turning 70 she has run two marathons - both in her home town of Brighton - ranking top FV70 in the country in 2010 with 4.23.36 and to date 2nd nationally this year with 4.35.16 on a scorching hot day. As with Ed Whitlock in Canada (see previous blogs), Sue's running is based on lots of lsd (long steady distance) either on Brighton's seafront or on the beautiful South Downs overlooking the town. That's the way to do it.

Lifestyle

2011-04-14T13:10:00.006+01:00

My dad was a chef and concocted some wonderful meals at home (as did mum!). I love good food & fine wine but when cooking, especially if it's just for myself as was the case recently when Claudie went off to France, the pleasure gained from eating the meal seems disproportionate to the time taken preparing it (and then clearing up afterwards). It's the same in the garden: loads of hard work planting, weeding, watering, all for a plant to flower for a few days before wilting - or in my case last night when cutting the lawn, slicing the top off the tulip - and then not flowering again for another 12 months. We usually get a wonderful array of colours in early May before an Atlantic front storms in bringing wind and heavy rain and flattening everything in the garden. It all seems rather futile putting the work in.

The reality, of course, is that if you stick to the cooking and spend lots of time in the garden week in week out, year after year, then the evidence is clear for all to see beyond the occasional banquet of flowering bed of tulips or plate of fine cuisine: a consistently high quality kitchen / garden. The exact same scenario exists in running. To be successful - however that is judged - a distance runner needs to be patient, run lots of miles and think long term. How do you get to the top at snooker? Spend hours every day playing frame after frame. Who gets to play at the Masters golf? Someone who plays every day for years on end hitting thousands of shots. It's simple, to paraphrase Steve Cram: if you want to be a better runner, run more miles.

It frustrates me enormously that people profess to want to improve as runners yet are not willing to learn from what we old codgers did 30 years ago when standards were so much higher. In basic terms we all worked out what routine was best for us, stuck to that routine throughout the year (letting nothing get in the way of it), and got on with some solid consistent week on week training with lots of racing. I raced virtually every week but plenty of these were just what runners today call tempo runs. This picture is from the Ranelagh ½ Marathon in 1984 where I started very steadily, enjoyed some banter with clubmates and ran round in 71 mins, taking four minutes out of Mike McClachlan, seen here with me at five miles. As ever a few pints were quaffed in the evening.

We also all had a perception of what was considered a decent time; today's runners need to raise their own beliefs so that they can run much faster times.

Thankfully, at Cirencester there is now a group of a dozen or so runners developing quite well. We've done some winter sessions as a group and by running together and pushing & encouraging each other beyond the comfort zone, improvements are coming. We finished the winter with a tough 30 minute paurlauf on the manicured lawns of the Royal Agricultural College, it might be my last session with the club but at least it's one that gives me belief that there is hope for the future of the sport.

Last October I wrote about my old Ranelagh colleague Ed Whitlock. Last Sunday he broke the world V80 marathon record with 3.25.40 in Rotterdam, yes he's 80 years old. In London this weekend only 10% of the field will beat this time. There's no great secret with Ed, he just loves running, goes out every day (generally laps of the local graveyard rather ironically) for long steady runs. He has no special diet, never has a massage and has had Achilles problems for many years (know the feeling!).

It's a lifestyle decision.

Blackheath

2011-03-10T13:18:00.008Z

Conditions were at their traditional best for the Blackheath mob match. In my 37 years (143 races) of mobs, only one has been cancelled due to the weather, the fixture at Blackheath in January 1987 after blizzards had swept across the country (just looked up the www: apparently 12-14th January 1987 was the coldest spell of weather in southern England since 1740). Two years earlier another mob at Blackheath had to be severely shortened due to heavy, drifting snow, although it didn't put people off as a near record 187 toed the line (Simon Collingridge and I came home equal first after 40 mins of very heavy going). It's hard to believe health & safety allowing races to go ahead in such conditions these days! (A week after that race I ran in the M25 '10' before the motorway opened and in a blizzard; every time I drive along the Leatherhead section I remember what was a very tough, hilly course.)

Anyway, there was no snow this year on the toughest of the mob courses, but plenty of the wet stuff - the course was a quagmire. I had to dig out my Helly Hansen off roaders rather than rely on the comfort of standard trainers. This was a bit of a worry for the Achilles. Despite no semblance of any fitness I had a plan and it worked relatively well. The race started with a half mile circuit of a hilly field before needing to climb a stile (the first of many on the course) leading to narrow footpaths and open countryside. This always causes a bottleneck so, a bit like all those idiots who go off far too fast in the London Marathon so that they can be on tv, I went off at a pace which was in no way commensurate to my rightful place in the field. It worked as I got field position and was able to keep up with those around me before the hills inevitably slowed my progress. It was a bit depressing being overtaken by so many but my strategy of walking the many hills and running the relatively flat stages got me a place in the top half of the field. I certainly couldn't have hoped for any better. The steep downhills actually caused me the most problems, the pounding being no good at all for Achilles and abdomen. On my last outing on this course I was 3rd overall and 13 minutes faster ... but it was very muddy this year!

A number of old clubmates not seen for quite a while appeared: Gordon Whitson from Athens, Paul Keen (Sheffield), John Pratt and Neil Walford (Brighton), so it was quite a sociable occasion in Blackheath's magnificent clubhouse as we talked, supped a beer (after eating enormous runners cakes) and watched some six nations rugby on tv.

Finally this time, with London Marathon just round the corner I recently stumbled upon this great quote from Jerome Drayton, a top Canadian marathoner (2:09) from the 60's: "to describe the agony of a marathon to someone who's never run it is like trying to explain colour to someone who was born blind."

Weight loss at last

2011-02-21T13:08:00.008Z

Latest health bulletin on this ailing ex-athlete has a slightly more positive bent to it. Since Christmas I have lost 11lbs. Without going on a diet, I have cut out all the rubbish snacks, toast & jam in the morning and second helpings of dinner. I also didn't drink at all in January and since starting back am only doing so in moderation, concentrating on quality not quantity. Thus just quaffing fine Burgundy & Claret from France, Spanish Gran Reserva and Italian Barolo at meal times. Also generally leaving the calorie busting beer alone, although had a rather tasty 7º proof Belgian beer (just the one) in Holland last week and a fine pint of Timothy Taylor's with Andy Bradley in Derbyshire today.

I have also been running, no great distances but regular outings that create structure and routine which the body likes. Built up over January to regular 15-20 minute potters four times a week. This only gives 10 miles a week but is at least a start. In true Paul Barlowesque fashion my mileage has built up in tiny incremental increases but this appears to be working. In Holland last week (now that's what I call a sand dune) I managed a 41 minute easy run with Michelle after her 10km win and since then have had the confidence to do two 30 minute efforts. My injury woes have not disappeared - my Achilles is so bad that about an hour after each run, and for the rest of the day, I am limping despite a cold shower and ice, and I've still got abdominal pains and joint issues - but I see my priority right now to reduce my weight and therefore the pressure on my pins. Maybe then the eccentric exercises I do to ease the Achilles will start to work. I also have the small issue of a mob match on Blackheath's brute of a course this Saturday.
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One of the great pleasures of being running fit and healthy is to be able to eat & drink without any worries; this is what I aspire to. As Haruki Murakami wrote in his book, What I talk about when I talk about Running:
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"if you live in Boston, Samuel Adams draft beer and Dunkin' Donuts are essentials of life. I discovered to my delight that even these indulgences can be offset by persistent exercise."
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Sounds good to me. I still have a long way to go having put on well in excess of two stone, but a start has been made and I'm confident that I can now complete another full mob match season on Saturday.

Olympic stadium

2011-02-04T13:18:00.003Z

A hot potato if ever there was one; I guess it's time I put in my sixpence worth although most readers probably won't like it. Sadly, politics and money get in the way once again.

To go back to square one, the 2012 Olympics should not have been handed to London, they should have gone to Paris where most of the infrastructure was already in place and the total cost would have been within some sort of proportion. The UK Government now has a noose around its neck; it's committed to supplying a fully (i.e. over) funded Games whilst putting the population through severe austerity measures. All for the sake of three weeks sport. As could easily have been predicted when the budget figures were quoted at the time of bidding, the cost of staging this jamboree will be billions above estimate, money that could have been used around the country to fund grass roots sport. Everybody knew that would be the case but of course once the winner was announced it was too late to go back on it. Yes, there will be some regeneration in the East End of London, not before time, but this could have been done at a fraction of the cost of staging the Olympics. Why the excitement at staging the Games? I would far rather hop across to Paris than struggle to Stratford, that's if I could get a ticket. I find it incredible that the British Athletics Supporters Club, who travel all over the world to watch their beloved sport, are not getting any preferential treatment in terms of ticket allocation. How many true athletics (or cycling, swimming, boxing etc) fans will get to see their favoured events?

In a previous blog I've said what I think about the marathon not finishing inside the stadium. Appalling decision.

The bid team apparently promised that there would be an athletics legacy at the Olympic stadium. Well, they have reneged on most things so one more won't matter. Spurs or West Ham? All the top athletes, uk:athletics and other influential people have stated that there can be no argument about which bid to accept, it has to be West Ham's because the stadium must retain an athletics track. Thankfully, one or two of the more intelligent people on this planet - Brian Moore and John Bicourt for example (I know intelligence is all relative) - disagree; I'm on their side. Do the athletes think that they'll be able to turn up and train at the stadium any day of the week? If so they are away with the fairies. Athletics will be the poor relation to football. It will be a football stadium which allows athletics as a secondary sport on some occasions. From an athletics point of view the stadium will become a white elephant.

Why not take Spurs' money and build a brand new stadium solely for the use of athletics? It can become a centre of excellence and be used on a regular basis. Spurs propose to rebuild Crystal Palace. Sounds good but as someone who has travelled there on numerous occasions I think I speak for the majority when I say that it's in the wrong place! As with Wembley (another white elephant) and Twickenham, why do we insist on building these massive stadiums in built-up areas? In America most stadia are built right by major highways. My choice would be just outside the M25 corridor, maybe adjoining the M40. This would still be known as a London arena (important for the perception of foreigners); be a short drive from Heathrow and be easily accessible from all parts of the country via the motorway system. I rest my case.

Bill Snelgrove

2011-01-15T15:06:00.011Z

Via Jerry Watson's facebook page I was shocked to learn the tragic news that my old friend Bill Snelgrove has died at the age of 54. He had a stroke in Sydney, Australia having been down there watching the Ashes cricket. This is awful news, Bill was a lovely bloke and someone I had known for 30 years. We shared common interests - cricket, running, beer - so always had lots to talk about even though we didn't see each other very often in recent times.

Bill ran for Thames Hare & Hounds, great rivals of Ranelagh - Thames occupied Wimbledon Common, where I did all my school running, and Ranelagh the adjoining Richmond Park - and throughout the 80's mob matches between the two teams were very close. Thames, for all their numerous Oxbridge alumni, appeared always to be bad on timekeeping, both in terms of starting their races at the alloted 3pm and in recording results (pre computer age), with the consequence that results were always subject to intense scrutiny in the pub afterwards. I remember one year when we were still arguing who won when the bell went for last orders. I made many friends at Thames during these wonderful years and Bill was most definitely one of them.

Bill and I were of similar standard and had some great battles although I'd have to say that on balance he got the better of me (although not always!). With a sub 50 min pb at 10 miles - the picture shows him in the Woking '10' in 1985 - and a 2.19 marathon to his credit, his running credentials were impressive and would, of course, be even more so with today's poorer standards. My running results database (sad, I know, but useful) records three races won by Bill, an inter-club fixture between Thames, Ranelagh and Cambridge University in '85, a 5000m track race in '86 and the Ranelagh Half Marathon in '92. He would have won other races, although as alluded to already, standards were such that winning races was not easy in those days. We raced each other at numerous mob matches over the years, the last time on Wimbledon Common in November 2009 where over a post race drink he regaled me with some stories from his travels ...

When I first knew Bill he worked for Shell in central London. Like me he used to train at lunchtimes, usually with Thames team mates Andy Thomas and Phil Gilbert amongst others. I'd usually go out running with Bill Harvey (God, he pushed me hard!) and we'd often see the Thames boys, sometimes joining up with them but generally just a cursory wave as we closed down from opposite directions in Hyde Park and then accelerated away at whatever 2 x 11mph equates to (Bill H is a mathematician, I'll ask him next time I see him, which is bound to be in a bar rather than a changing room). I digress ...

We all lead rather mundane lives: sleep, work, recreation, socialise. Most of us do nothing about it. Bill was different and decided, from memory in the late 80's, to give up his good job, rent out his house and travel. To cut a long story short he decided to follow England's cricket team on foreign tours, yes he was one of the original Barmy Army. He would then come home for the summer, live with his parents, do some work then embark on another tour. The last time I saw him he proudly stated that he'd not missed an England foreign Test match for, I think he said, something like 15 years. According to the Army he saw 70 consecutive away Tests, an astonishing feat: http://www.barmyarmy.com/barmynews/index.php?m=barmyfull&iNewsID=516 He made friends all over the world and had some wonderful adventures. At least he died knowing that England had performed at their best for many, many years in retaining the Ashes.

"At least we got our memory" thus sang the also recently lost Gerry Rafferty. Rest in Peace my friend. Another one gone. Sad times.

Edinburgh

2011-01-08T23:50:00.004Z

Watched the xc from a snowbound Edinburgh on tv today and thoroughly enjoyed it. I've not always been a great fan of the Great Run series of races but don't have the time, space or inclination to go into that here. The idea of spicing up the men's race with a three way, six to score international (GB v Europe v USA, plus GB U23) was excellent, especially as the teams, excepting the Europeans, wore national vests rather than the odious sight of 90% of the top half of the field all wearing the same sponsors purple, a bit like Liverpool playing Manchester United with all 22 players wearing red (mind, it might give the Merseysiders more of a chance). It does seem strange to me that despite the top athletes around the world being sponsored by a handful of different shoe companies, it is always the purple lot - no names as I don't get any advertising revenue on this site - who get onto the start line. Sinister or what?

Anyway back to the races. The overnight snow made it perfect for the tv cameras without impacting (!) too much on the conditions for the runners. The hill looked tough - I'd definitely be walking up that one in my current condition - and helped make all three into good competitive races. Farah looked supreme and I just hope his change of plan this year - he's going to train in the USA - works well. I think he can medal in Korea in August but can he top the rostrum? He's certainly moved his running onto a new level in the last year (see below). The final positive change in Edinburgh was Chris Thompson guesting in the commentary box with the two geordies. What a character he is although probably too much of a liability for the producers. You got the impression that he was about to either exhale an expletive or tell a raunchy joke. Not sure big Bren knew how to take him! Hopefully he'll also have another progressive year, kicking off with another great 10,000 at that superb meet at Stanford (end May?)

So with a perfect link, Edinburgh being a major place to celebrate hogmanay, here we are at the start of a new year. On a personal note, let's hope it is better than the last three which have been, for many reasons, quite horrendous. The signs are not good: the extra two stone in weight I'm carrying is definitely changing the way I run. As a good friend pointed out to me recently when I told her how much excess I was carrying, just try running normally whilst carrying two six month old babies. This has clearly affected my running gait and led to the further injuries I'm suffering. Anyway I'll try to do a bit of running this month so that I can survive Blackheath in February. My Christmas cracker joke stated that a battery has a rotten life, it is either working or dead. Well, philosophically I definitely prefer the former so must get the trainers back on, just incremental increases in mileage from a very low base (i.e. one mile).

The only positive from a running point of view in 2010 was from some of the trips made. After a short trip to Holland in February for an international 10km won by Michelle in the snow (also caught up with my old Dutch friend Alex), I had a mad July with three trips away: County Cork in Ireland to avoid attending Ciren AC's children's party; Paris for a bonding weekend with daughter Natalie, taking in a Diamond League meet which included the Usain Bolt travelling circus, and then Barcelona - again with Natz, see picture - for the European Athletics Champs where Michelle and the girls won bronze in the marathon and Farah ran that stunning 5000. Final trip of the year was to France, family in Nantes then north west Brittany. Running link tenuous here but as we intend buying property in the area (the pink granite coast) I couldn't help but think about some good little time trial routes for when I set up Wrighty's training camps (a bit like Font Romeu but more convenient for the sea).

With Natalie's many Norweigan connections - she's now living in London and was out clubbing with Miss Norway last night! - Oslo's Bislett Games look to be next on our bonding agenda. Doubt I'll get an invite to race so will just have to sit in the stands, if I can wedge myself into a seat.

The fascination of conditioning

2010-12-15T13:02:00.005Z

It's been a while. Quick update: had my IV infusion of pamidronate at Oxford Nuffield Hospital last month, in an effort to beat this osteitis lark. The promised 'flu-like symptoms' kicked in for a few days afterwards, I'd have been disappointed if they hadn't, so they certainly pumped something strong into my ailing body. No obvious progress to date but as I'm limping around in pain with ongoing Achilles' issues and now a dodgy knee (too much on the exercise bike in a vain attempt to burn off some calories), my abdominal pains seem less obvious right now. Since last posting I have also partaken in two more mob matches, in Richmond Park and at Orion's home course in Epping Forest.

On our dry, relatively flat, grassland and stoney track course in Richmond it was relatively easy to maintain forward momentum, although a chronic lack of fitness conspired to hold me back from sustaining anything close to a decent pace.

Epping Forest on the other hand is one of the great traditional xc courses where there is no hiding place from underfoot conditions: it is a very tough one lap course with deep mud, steep hills, ditches to cross and stiles to traverse. I was nervous beforehand as I felt that, unlike in Richmond Pk, the terrain would be of little help. I was not wrong but strangely enough thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

Andy Bickerstaff, a fellow past winner of this race and a lot more recently than me, who himself is battling medical issues, joined me for the first mile. This was a big mistake (for me, not him) as we chatted about finding ourselves so far down the field; at least he chatted, I muttered some breathless utterances and curses as I slid around in my training flats and couldn't catch my breath. Just jogging and I couldn't talk! Experienced runners always face aches & pains, sniffles etc., breathing is never an issue, but here I was less than a mile into a 7½ mile race and totally out of breath. Thankfully the other element of my lack of fitness, the total inability to run up hills, at least allowed me to get my breath back, although I was really miffed when walking up the last big hill when I was overtaken by another walker and couldn't keep up!

Anyway, thankfully AB got bored with my company - the conversation was rather one-way - and proceeded to scythe through the field without any of his feared medical issues resurfacing. I was left to survive, which I did although not without mishap. A thorn in my shoe, which I couldn't budge, necessitated stopping, a rather leisurely break sitting on a log changing my shoe and watching the world, in the form of many runners, go by. I then got into a battle with a couple of others; quite hilariously they would run past me on the precarious downhills where I had no grip at all, falling flat on my face in the mud at one point, I would then overtake them along the flat and road sections, before walking up the hills allowing my bemused opponents to once again go ahead. Just like that cartoon series, was it the Ant Hill Mob? This link clearly reflects the delights of Epping Forest: http://www.flickr.com/photos/14963062@N04/5257606364/in/set-72157625589293120/

The result of all this nonsense was a time 14 minutes slower than two years earlier, that's a whole two miles behind where I was! Ignoring all the frustrations of my various ailments, I find it fascinating how fitness levels can change so radically. To extend the differential, even when I was running relatively well two years ago i.e. 14 minutes faster over 7 miles than at present, I couldn't run more than two miles at my pb marathon pace per mile.

Just Blackheath's equally tough course left on this winter's mob match agenda then I can safely retire again. Hopefully the pamidronate will help things along so that I can actually do some training. Who knows. As Kierkegaard so rightly said, "life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards."

Finally, great news that Alf Tupper's blog has reappeared after over a year. Written by Mike Cadman, a real character and ex-top notch runner from the black country. He writes what he thinks, no-one is left in any doubt about that! Check him out on www.alftupper.blogspot.com

Who said the AAA supports athletes?

2010-11-01T18:29:00.009Z

Back in the days of real runners, my old friend Clive Beauvais once stated that if he ever failed to crack 60 minutes for a 10 miler he would hang up his racers. He did, of course, eventually succumb to the hour but he is still racing well into his 60's, a dodgy knee notwithstanding. I felt like echoing Clive's blunt sentiments last week.

I've only missed one mob match for Ranelagh in the last 35 years (there are four each winter). It's a silly record and one that just gradually evolved (obviously!); now it seems to be the only thing people talk to me about when I travel up to Richmond (memories of Monty Python: "all they ever want to talk about is my two sheds."). So the decision had to be made last Saturday with the onset of a new season: should I do the sensible thing, stay at home and watch the darts on tv or should I at least show my face and make a vain attempt to hobble 7½ miles over two laps of Richmond Park? Although, as my old mate Norman Archer used to lament on a regular basis about anything, it was pointless, somehow I felt that if I didn't show up I would be cutting a tie that has given me so much pleasure over the years, namely my membership of Ranelagh Harriers. I know fewer & fewer runners there each time I go up but the magic of the club, as conveyed to me by one of its many Australian members a few years ago, is that you can disappear for a year or two but always know that when you return there will be a familiar face to buy you a pint. So I ran ...

Of course it was a ridiculous run, I jogged at the back, momentum down Queen's Ride (beautifully pictured here one early morning by David Rowe) taking me past a few stragglers, then walked every time there was the slightest climb (Richmond Park is far from mountainous). A concerned Claudie asked whether I would continue after the first lap but by then there was no choice. My breathing by this stage was very heavy but the regular walks sorted that. My aches and pains all seemed numbed by the experience; it was the utter lack of fitness that was so horrendous. Forward momentum in the last couple of miles, even on the flat bits, was marginal but I crawled home and collapsed over the line. My time? Well my best on the course from a long way back is 40:32 and, in more recent times, 47.04. I ran 59:10. Clive's words came back to me: if I ever fail to break the hour my time is up, a bit worrying given that I've got to go through the whole proceses again in a couple of weeks and last Saturday conditions were perfect.

The most frightening statistic however is that I finished 61st out of 116, there were 55 behind me!

I did my various injuries no good at all. My Achilles still aches like hell all day despite regular eccentric heel raises carrying close to 20kg on my back (hernia next methinks); my Abdomen is a sleeping pain, stinging when I make any sudden movement (getting out a chair / car etc) and my Adductor hurts when I put my foot on the clutch when driving. I've at last received confirmation that I will get my pamidronate IV infusion next Monday so live in hope that this might help things. Otherwise it looks like the AAA will terminate my running career, which is somewhat ironic don't you think?!

What would Pheidippides think?

2010-10-21T21:11:00.006+01:00

Had some good feedback from readers of this inane blog in recent weeks. Apparently it is read in Afghanistan and Australia. Wonder if I can stretch it all the way to Zambia and Zimbabwe. All of those countries, and quite a few inbetween, will be represented in the London Olympics 2012 so with this tenuous link I shall continue.

The most iconic image of any Olympic Games has to be the lone figure of the lead marathoner emerging from the lonely, dark shadows into the Olympic stadium holding 80,000 cheering spectators. This is where the lonelieness of the long distance runner becomes a distant memory and a rush of adrenalin kicks in for that final 400 surge to the line and immortality. I've experienced finishing races on the track (Polytechnic Marathon at Windsor, Wimbledon 10, Cheltenham 10km and others); it is a wonderful feeling even in front of a timekeeper and his dog. But in the Olympics must be the best feeling. The only other sporting occasion I can think of that can create anything like the same theatre would be the walk down the 18th fairway at the Open Golf at St Andrews with a three shot lead.

So what is happening in 2012? The marathon will finish in the Mall in Central London. Crazy decision.

The course will be numerous laps around the iconic sites of London, incorporating lots of twists and turns in our ancient city. Seb Coe, sounding somewhat embarrassed in my view because he knows where the race should finish, was wheeled out to state that it was impossible to find a safe route taking the runners to the stadium without decimating traffic congestion. Absolute rubbish, the organisers and many corporate sponsors (yes, money dictates in this horrendously commercial Olympics) didn't want the world to see the East end of London and what that would portray to the viewing tv audience around the world.

It would have been very easy to start the race in central London, put in a few loops taking in all the sites, then direct the runners towards the stadium for the finish - by this time the race would be getting serious and cameras would be concentrating on the runners and not the surroundings anyway. But no, it will be just like any other London Marathon each spring. Very sad. At least the Queen will be able to watch the finish, perhaps she can reverse the decision made by her predecessor in 1908 and lop 2.2 miles off the distance. Those 2.2 miles have caused me an awful lot of pain over the years - in New York 1983 I hit the wall and walked a lot in the last couple of miles yet still managed 2.23.

I've joined the Tower Hamlets protest group on Facebook and would urge others to do the same but sadly the decision has been made and money talks. Not least the fact that it will cost between £20 and £50 to watch the marathon!

Still on the marathon theme, I sat up all night to watch last week's Commonwealth Games marathons from Delhi. The night was made more fun as I chatted online to my darling daughter Natalie in London (I don't think she ever sleeps) and a great old friend of mine, Paul Beauvais, in Melbourne, Australia. Conditions were tough and it was very frustrating to watch as little news filtered through from down the field, but Michelle eventually emerged and was happy with 6th in the race, despite the inevitable Delhi belly, thus ending an eventful and successful year. Great run too from Ben for which there has been little publicity.

79 is the new 39

2010-10-08T20:08:00.009+01:00

It must be time for another posting so let's see what random stuff I can come up with - I tell you it's not easy managing a runner's blog when not running, but here goes.

A celebration of near octogenarians.
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I am lucky to know two wonderful characters who are both 79 years old. Both run and are still ambitious in the racing stakes, putting my miserable efforts into perspective. My local chum Fred Robson is 80 this Sunday (10/10/10) and will celebrate by running a charity 10km race. If he doesn't crack 60 minutes he will be annoyed with himself but will soon get over it and have half a Guinness, tend to his bees and plan his next business trip to eastern Europe. Fred never stops, in fact he has been running marathons for some 60 years. Fred can always tell a story in the pub yet doesn't go on about 'the good old days' but prefers to embrace today and the future. A wonderful man.

Ed Whitlock is a member of Ranelagh Harriers, my other club in London. He actually only ran once for the club, in the early 60's, before emigrating to Canada where he still lives. He reconnected with the club about five years ago and now runs all his races in his precious blue Ranelagh singlet. Ed ran last week's Toronto ½ Marathon in 1.34.27, a world record for a 79 year old. He is the only man over 70 to run a marathon under three hours, clocking 2.59.10 in 2003. Like Fred he is always looking forward; he stated after Toronto that the world V80 marathon record of 3.39.18 should be well within his compass next year as long as his fragile knees hold out. I met him in Rotterdam three years ago when he was over for the marathon. When I told him that I was a Ranelagh Harrier and introduced him to Wendy, who has run for the club, and my Dutch friend Alex (pictured with Ed and me) who has socialised on many occasions with us in Richmond, he was elated to meet up with us. A lovely, self-effacing character.

"The end of a race is just a temporary marker without much significance. The same with our lives. Just because there's an end doesn't mean existence has meaning. An end point is simply set up as a temporary marker, or perhaps as an indirect metaphor for the fleeting nature of existence. It's all very philosophical." Yes, another extract from Haruki Murakami's book.

A short follow up to my last blog: I spent half a day at John Radcliffe hospital in Oxford but at the end of it I didn't get the promised elixir of life, or in my case injected dose of pamidronate to alleviate my osteitis. The very friendly doctor wanted more blood tests and to analyse my MRI scan more fully. Another appointment has been made for December - will this ever end?!

Despite all the portents of gloom from the media, I've been enjoying the Commonwealth Games and particularly enjoyed watching an Indian athlete winning bronze in the women's 10,000, the first woman to win a track medal for India. I particularly liked the lap of honour with her and the two Kenyan medallists ... incongruous but also perhaps portentious. News from Doha in Qatar, where the English team's holding camp is based, is of searing temperatures of 40ºC. This makes little sense as it is impossible to train in these conditions other than on the treadmill in air conditioned gyms. It will be bizarre for the marathoners to travel to India in a few days time for (relatively) cooler temperatures, albeit 80% humidity. Looking forward to watching the marathons next Thursday even though they start at 2am UK time (day off after that methinks).

France & Haruki Murakami

2010-09-14T19:28:00.007+01:00

A strange combination I grant but for me they came together last week. Had a lovely nine days in France, visiting family in Nantes then exploring northern Brittany, all in hot sunshine. I don't generally read running books, they are usually very one dimensional and shallow, although I have of course read the two mighty tomes that make up Ron Hill's autobiography, an anthology that should be issued to everybody who joins a running club so that today's athletes can understand what the sport should be about. Anyway, in France I decided to read Haruki Murakami's much acclaimed 'What I talk about when I talk about running.' It is a very philosophical paperback despite some dubious translation from the author's native Japanese into Americanised English.

"In each shave is a philosophy. No matter how mundane some action might appear, keep at it long enough and it becomes a contemplative, even meditative act."

In Nantes I really missed not being able to train, I have a lovely course that takes me down past the university where Claudie studied - it is normal to go to your local uni in France rather than get into massive debt just for the sake of numerous hangovers - along the river Erdre, a tributary of the Loire; up 120 steep steps to cross a bridge over the river; down the other side; a circuit of the magnificent Stade de la Beaujoire, where World Cup football & rugby has been played and where Nantes currently sadly ply their trade in the second division of the French league; a tour of the beautifully landscaped surrounding gardens; back across the river; a lap of the horse racing circuit (always loads of joggers, so good for the ego, a bit like Central Park in New York), then home. About 25km in total.

"You have to continually transmit the object of your focus to your entire body ... gradually you'll expand the limits of what you're able to do. Almost imperceptively you'll raise the bar. Repeat & repeat. Patience is a must but results will come."

In Brittany I discovered some lovely running trails, albeit whilst walking, driving and checking out maps. This was all important stuff as we hunt for the best location to buy property. A little training camp would go down perfectly. Also checked out golf courses for that rapidly approaching dreaded day (is it here already?) when I finally give in and consign the running shoes to gardening & car washing duties.

"I have only a few reasons to keep on running, and a truckload of them to quit. All I can do is keep those few reasons nicely polished."

I am still struggling badly with my Achilles. Religiously doing my eccentric exercises but struggling with the concept that pain is good, as instructed by my consultant. It feels counter intuitive to be creating even more pain in my foot in seeking a remedy. More on this next time as well as the lowdown on my visit next Monday to the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford. Yes, I've decided to go ahead and have an intravenous drip of pamidronate fed into me to attack my osteitis. Look out next time for all the gory details; I've been warned that there are some fairly nasty side effects.

"When I'm running I don't have to talk to anybody & don't have to listen to anybody. This is a part of my day I can't do without."

Finally, yet another tragedy has hit the running world. Steve Wheeler, a top runner for many years with Bourton Road Runners, died in a freak accident last week. He was a similar age to me and although I didn't know him that well, he was one of those guys that was always around. By all accounts he was a real character - in fact from reading some of the anecdotes on Bourton's website, he had similar oddball traits to my great friend Stephen Instone who tragically drowned a year ago. Bourton, a club with whom Cirencester has strong links (the first mob match between our two clubs took place in July) has had more that its fair share of tragedies in recent years; my thoughts go out to Steve's family but also to all at Bourton at this sad & difficult time.

One year on

2010-08-21T15:57:00.005+01:00

A year ago I ran the classic marathon distance in the World Masters Championships in Finland. I was aware at the time that I was carrying an injury but little did I know that 12 months down the line my osteitis pubis would still be lingering on and I'd not be running, let alone racing. Add to that a badly inflamed Achilles from jogging a bit whilst carrying two stone more than my racing weight, and things are not good. So what should I do? Bearing in mind a total of 23 miles under my belt in the last 12 weeks - just under that magical two miles a week average, damn! - I decided this morning to do the Swindon Parkrun 5km, well I had to go to Swindon anyway so why not have a little potter to see how the pegs (& lungs) reacted?

I maintain a rolling average weekly mileage graph with my training diary: in August 2009 it stood at 54, today it shows 5, or to put it another way, 2,800 miles a year against 260. That's a stark statistic. It also flags up what I always bang on about to runners who want to improve but can't understand why they don't. It's not a question of banging out 10 good weeks before a big race then doing very little until the next build-up, but a lifestyle change that involves an ongoing training regime throughout the year that allows consistent, good mileage.

Anyway I thoroughly enjoyed a gentle run round at about 7.20 mile pace today although won't have done myself any good. It was a complete contrast to the last race I attended, the European Championships Marathon in Barcelona, not least because today's winner was attached to three dogs! Talking of Barcelona, my visit to that beautiful city now means I have been to 13 out of the 22 cities that have hosted the summer Olympics, only St Louis, Stockholm, Berlin, Melbourne, Tokyo, Mexico, Atlanta, Seoul & Beijing remain to complete the set. Answers on a postcard to name the 13 visited.

Footnote: when staying in Heinola, Finland for last year's World Masters, we watched the world sauna championships (see my blog 28 August 2009). The event builds up to a climax over a couple of days through eliminating rounds until the final, the winner being the last competitor left in the sauna, where temperatures are cranked up to 110ºC (230ºF) by adding half a litre of water to the stove every 30 seconds. The Championships were once again held at the same venue this year but sadly one of the two finalists, a Russian named Vladimir Ladyzhensky, died (the other, defending champion Timo Kaukonen, suffered bad burns and was hospitalised). Think I'll stick to running, or if unable to get back, perhaps bowls.

Barcelona

2010-08-06T12:52:00.009+01:00

After long weekends taking in the remote but beautiful south west coast of Ireland, and the total contrast of a heaving but equally beautiful city of Paris, my four week July odyssey concluded with a trip to Barcelona for the European Athletics Championships.

Natalie flew down from Paris to join me and we didn't stop all weekend. Obviously my main reason to be there was for the ladies marathon but we also managed to fit in one evening of athletics at the magnificent Olympic stadium and, of course, watched the men's marathon as well. Whilst the marathoners won't agree, the hot sunshine and warm, balmy evenings helped make the championships truly memorable. After the evening session we let the crowds disperse and sat in the magnificent grounds of the complex quietly drinking beer and soaking up the atmosphere until midnight amongst spectators and competitors from all over Europe - there were flags from everywhere in abundance. We then strolled into a tapas bar at 1am for a fine meal to finish off a magnificent day. (The previous night was paella sitting outside at midnight.) Not sure that a cold damp evening in the regenerated east end of London will have quite the same allure in two years time.

The action was exciting: our ladies paced themselves perfectly in the brutal 30ºC conditions which produced carnage in the later stages. Starting at 10am was not the cleverest idea. Thanks to texts received from Claudie & Wendy, Natz and I were able to relay news to the girls that they were in with a shout of the bronze team medals and so it proved by the narrowest of margins - seeing them collect their medals in the stadium later that evening was a never to be forgotten experience. Despite my total lack of fitness I managed some good interval work that enabled me to watch the race in 13 places on the four lap course with some out & back sections. Exhausting. Michelle (14th, 2.38), who paced her run perfectly having been 27th at 5km, finished strongly, overtaking Sue (16th, 2.39) in the last 5km to lead the team home. An interesting statistic gives an indicator of how well they both ran: excluding the two Brits, only two of the top 19 finishers had pb's outside 2.30 (2.30 & 2.31), all the others were between 2.22 and 2.27. Impressive stuff and an indicator of targets ahead.

Highlight of the evening's athletics was without doubt Farah's 5000, the last four laps were superlative as he relentlessly wound up the pace lap on lap finishing with a 55sec effort amid raucous crowd noise as the Spaniard tried in vain to hold on. Ennis showed her professionalism with a gutsy 800 to win the heptathlon but she's going to have to nurse herself through to the Olympics as her opponents are breathing down her neck. We sat by the pole vault and watched enthralled as it built up over the whole evening - this is the sort of thing tv misses as the panellists waffle on inanely in the studio - it was fascinating watching the interaction between the athletes and their coaches who were standing right by us. There was plenty of other action, most notably for Natalie the men's javelin but that's a long story. Rather embarrassingly I appeared on the big screen at one stage much to the mirth of a few people back home. Thanks for the texts guys.

There were many stories from the weekend but most are best left untold for varying reasons. The whole thing finished with a function for the GB endurance squad in the 5* Arts Hotel down on the marina. I don't want to name drop so will just use christian names of some of those with whom we dined: Seb, Mo, Paula, Charles ... A nice way to end a cracking weekend.

The art of making money

2010-07-21T21:34:00.006+01:00

Last Friday in Paris I witnessed an interesting phenomenon. One person transformed an athletics meeting as no other could. With crowds at athletics events generally on the wane, particularly in apathetic countries such as France, in excess of 40,000 filled the bottom two layers of the impressive Stade de France for the Diamond League series. The one man was, of course, Usain Bolt. Because of his participation in an event that would last for less than 10 seconds, this large crowd sat through three hours of top class athletics just two weeks before the European Championships.
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If Bolt had not been competing I doubt whether 10,000 would have turned up. The whole meeting was set up around him, with a couple of side issues in his race. His first head to head in 2010 with his countryman and fastest in the world this year, Asafa Powell, was set up to be a 'monumental' clash according to Athletics Weekly. And standing between these two muscle bound Jamaican monsters on the start line was France's new pin-up, the diminutive Christof Lemaitre, who recently became the first white man to break 10 seconds. Of course the race was slightly anti-climactic with Bolt winning relatively comfortably in 9.84, (positively pedestrian !). But that wasn't the point. The showmanship and electricity produced by Bolt (slight pun there, sorry) in the last two years has created a new audience for the sport on the back of his incredible world records, particularly his unbelievable 9.58. Yes, some people question whether he is clean, particularly given the bad press the Jamaican team are currently getting, but this guy was something special as a 15 year old and has revolutionised sprinting in the way that Dick Fosbury and Bob Beamon did many moons ago.
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The whole of Paris was talking Bolt whilst I was there. All the billboards had his familiar signature lightning bolt pose; a special Jamaican festival was set up in front of the vast Hotel de Ville the night before the race (Usain was there of course), where rum was drunk, dancing was constant and visitors were able to race a machine that ran at Bolt's 9.58 pace; Bolt was on the front pages of the papers photographed at Paris' top night club where the likes of Rafa Nadal and Hollywood 'A' listers had been in recent weeks, and most importantly, people were talking athletics.

Many sportsmen are vastly overpaid but it is easy to see why Bolt gets the big bucks: the event promoters and tv companies love him. He is single handedly keeping the sport's head above water. Just seeing the masses percolating out of the metro station towards the stadium, like oil leaking in the Gulf of Mexico, made me realise we have to be thankful for the likes of Bolt. Whether he'll ever get back to world record form I have my doubts - he's lapping up the superstar lifestyle and may struggle to sustain his brilliance, there are already signs of the actual running becoming almost an irritant.
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Highlight of the meeting for me was the women's high jump where the cloned long-legged Russian blondes gradually crashed out, leaving a great head to head between the charismatic American Chaunte Howard-Lowe and the crowd manipulator Blanka Vlasic, who eventually prevailed with 2.02, having been behind at one stage. It was wonderful to be engrossed in the developing event without being whisked away for another banal Jonathan Edwards / Colin Jackson love-in. There was lots of other good stuff to fill the evening, and some bad - the Russian Alminova storming to victory in the women's 1500 (3.57) having just come off a drugs ban - but despite my ongoing health issues, I came away from the meet feeling pretty good for a change.

To be sure

2010-07-09T13:06:00.008+01:00

Along with an array of elite athletes from around the world, I flew into Cork last weekend. They went north from the airport to take part in the Cork City Sports, where, despite a blustery wind, some fine times were achieved. In a metaphor for my running these days, I went south in my hire car and didn't run a step for the five days Claudie and I spent in the emerald isle. We had an idyllic short break staying at my sister's remote house, Tig Na Carrige (pictured) at Toormore, near Mizen Head, Ireland's equivalent of our own Land's End. Whilst at Mizen Head we were approached by two emaciated guys asking if we could give them a lift to the nearest main town, Schull. They'd just cycled from the north of the island and in their words never wanted to get on a f****** bike again.

Despite being in an area with a low population density, I was surprised at the number of people we saw out running. Not top athletes training hard but just locals or tourists, often overweight, doing their daily workout along the country lanes. It's great to see so many people putting on their trainers and not being villified as we used to be 30 years ago. This is mirrored at running clubs up and down the country nowadays: where there would have been a hardy dozen working out at a Tuesday or Wednesday club session in the past you now see 60 or 70, most of whom will rarely or never race other than perhaps for a charity 5k or maybe the London Marathon in the unlikely event of them being accepted under the ballot system. Running clubs have changed massively and the sport has become a leisure activity for middle aged people aware of health issues, rather than in such as football, cricket, rugby, cycling where one joins a club to be competitive. I don't have an issue with this, it is merely an observation.
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I'm currently enjoying the best sport on tv at the moment: the Tour de France is a fantastic event and the production of it on tv is superb. It's a real antidote to the banal World Cup where players feigned injury at the merest touch from an opponent. Most of the riders in France appear to have gauze over arms & legs where they've fallen at 60kph and just got back on their bikes. A phenomenal sport despite ongoing drugs issues which will probably never be fully resolved. Part of the allure of the great coverage over the years has been the double act commentary team of Phil Liggett and ex-pro Paul Sherwen. They have always got the balance right between explaining what's going on, taking in the beautiful surroundings, introducing some humour and avoiding any patronising rubbish that sometimes comes with watching events like the London Marathon. I don't know whether others agree, however, but I get the feeling that Liggett is now just a bit past his best and makes a lot of mistakes. The winner? I'd go for Contador to continue the Spanish domination of sport this year (and how about Sergio Garcia as an outsider at St Andrews?).
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Blogstar this week has to be Fred Robson. Fred, who turns 80 on 10.10.10 has been running marathons for 60 years and flew out to Finland last week to run in the Parvo Nurmi Marathon in Turku (he ran this race last year and finished despite temperatures in the mid 30ºCs). "There's some decent money on offer in the age groups, David" he told me with a scheming voice, "so I think it's a good one to do, especially if it's not too hot." Unfortunately his flight was delayed by many hours and he didn't reach his destination until 4am on the day of the race. He sensibly decided just to run in the accompanying 10k, once again in 33ºC temps and won his age group. I think his secret is Guinness as he always seems to have a glass of the dark stuff in his hand. Which brings me back to Ireland last weekend ... ah the Murphys was silky smooth.

Random observations

2010-06-25T13:08:00.005+01:00

The object of this blog when I set it up last year was to present weekly observations on the running scene through my eyes and around my own training & racing. That's gone belly up (or, more accurately, belly out!) because of my injury, although I'm still involved through coaching & mentoring. The only trouble with this is the lack of control - you can help and advise until the cows come home but once the start gun goes off you lose all semblance of control. All very nerve wracking & frustrating. So some random thoughts whilst we are in the midst of this beautiful summer weather, a football world cup throwing up surprises and a crazy Wimbledon fortnight.

I recently read this quote by Brian Moore, the former England rugby hooker: "I love the French. This least likely of statements is not said in jest; it is borne out of a continuing realisation that in many facets of life, such as health, education, food, social cohesion, work-life balance and so on, I find myself admitting that they have got it right and the rest of the world, which they resolutely refuse to follow, has got it wrong." He then related this to the attitude of the French - the gallic shrug - in rugby. I have to say that I agree wholeheartedly with Moore's sentiments - not just because I have a French wife - and fully intend being part of all that when I retire to that part of the world. The non-conformist side of things has been witnessed this week with the French football team and in that amazing world record tennis match. Nicolas Mahut didn't come out with the usual sound bites that modern sportsmen are sadly programmed to utter, but merely stated what he really thought about things (basically he was cheesed off to have lost, hardly surprising when you've successfully served to stay in the match 64 times - all that effort for nothing). He also appeared totally underwhelmed afterwards by the presentation of a momento to celebrate the match. I hate it when modern football/rugby/cricket players are wheeled out to give the party line on the state of play. Thankfully the trackside interviews in athletics, usually mundane in the extreme and always far too soon after the event, sometimes throw up some cracking banter - the 110m hurdler after last year's world champs immediately springs to mind, as does any interview with Dean Macey - and I like nothing better than an interviewer to say what a great race it was and the athlete replying that he thought it was crap! The new UK chief of athletics, Van Commence, is like that and it's a breath of fresh air: BBC man, 'the plucky Brit did really well to finish 4th, you must be very happy' ... VC, 'no, she got the pace completely wrong in the first lap, was boxed in and ran out of options. This makes me angry.' Love it.

Observations on the football? Well, I'm afraid it's a game I no longer enjoy watching and the xenophobia that accompanies world cups completely turns me off. Watching the delightful passing, changes in pace, vision and pure natural ball skills of the South Americans makes it worth watching but I can't get excited beyond that. England appear to be throttled by the fear of error based on the ridiculous expectation heaped on the team. One thought, which doesn't appear to have been mentioned at all: why is David Beckham sitting in the dugout looking like a tailor's dummy in his awful three piece M&S suit? What possible use is he with the squad, other than a diversion?

July promises to be a busy month for me with trips lined up to Ireland (my sister's house on the remote but beautiful south coast of Co. Cork); Paris, to see Natalie and take in the Diamond League athletics meeting, and Barcelona for the European Athletics Champs where it will be too hot for marathon running!

No blogstar this time but instead just a few words about the passing of a great sportsman. Andy Ripley sadly died at the age of 62 last week. That's no age these days but boy did he pack a lot into those years: international rugby player, athlete & rower; excelled also at sailing, triathlon, basketball, tennis & water skiing; qualified canoe instructor; won the BBC Superstars; fluent linguist; gained a MPhil from Cambridge University at 50 (an age when he narrowly missed selection for the University boat race) and even had time to make a fortune in the City. He enjoyed life and sport to the full, something that the professional sporting world has sadly but inevitably lost. With his long hair and rugged face he resembled the great French film actor Gerard Depardieu - perhaps GD will play him in what surely must be the inevitable film of Ripley's life. RIP Andy, you were the last of the great true all round amateur sportsmen.

Guinness is good for you

2010-05-26T12:51:00.011+01:00

"As highly-tuned athletes, we appreciate the necessity of treating our bodies with respect and the importance of ensuring proper replacement of nutrients after running. Consequently our Wednesday evening training is followed by an intensive "rehydration" session in one of the local hostelries (Guinness and London Pride are particularly popular) coupled with very good value high carbohydrate replacement foods (such as egg, chips & beans)." Marlborough Running Club's website somehow encapsulates what the sport should be all about and what, sadly, has been lost in recent times. It was certainly the reason that I joined a club back in the 70's. It also probably explains why Keith Firkin is now a member!

If any reader feels that this blog doesn't satiate their need for digesting inconsequential nonsense then I have just the answer: http://www.runnersblogs.blogspot.com/ is a site set-up for insomniacs who can't get enough of running blogs. It's a dumping ground for all types of running blogs, mine included, covering many aspects of the sport under various headings: Host Athlete; Elite Athlete; Humorous; Other Athlete (I know my place and should be thankful to still be categorised as athlete) and Other Blogs. There's some good topical stuff, with some great anecdotes on our sport, as well as plenty of dross. Some of them are almost as interesting as my blog.

Blogstar this week: Rob Forbes decided to watch England play in the World Cup in South Africa. He set off from Cirencester about eight months ago ... on his bike! 19,500km later he arrived in South Africa, via a 20km swim across the straits of Gibraltar, and promptly ran the Comrades Ultra Marathon from the high veldt of Pietermaritzburg to Durban with 23,500 others, a mere 89km (56 miles). And he performed superbly: at 23 he's only run one marathon before (2.45 at Berlin) so to complete the course 846th in 7:48:39 (3:40 marathon pace) was impressive indeed. A truly epic journey which you can read more about on http://www.tri4africa.co.uk/

Wednesday

2010-05-11T13:21:00.016+01:00

So many endurance athletes struggle with Wednesday's training. To me it is the key day of the week but it is also the hardest to get right. The theory is do a track session on a Tuesday and maybe a fartlek or hill session on a Thursday. Most of us work during the day and might be able to get out for a 40 minute run at lunchtime at best. But if serious about performing at the marathon, a long midweek run is crucial and for most, doing this during the lunch hour is just not viable. So that leaves the evening and a 90 minute plus run after work is not an exciting proposition...

I promised a couple of posts ago to publish my old training schedule. This would make for too much excitement for one blog so instead I shall drip feed the reader with some of the finer points of a highly scientific process that took place through the late 70's and the 80's. Here is Wednesday.

Ranelagh's club night was a Wednesday, unusual as most clubs meet for a Tuesday night session. The faster runners would meet independently on a Tuesday for hills (plenty of them in Richmond) in winter and on an old gravel track at Harlequins' Rugby ground, The Stoop (this was a run down place before the onset of professional rugby union and is now much changed and has no track) in summer, followed by a few pints of Fullers in Twickenham.

Ranelagh's clubhouse - a corrugated iron shed when I first joined but then converted into a fine building thanks to a wonderfully generous legacy from a former member, Harry Sheer (a great cricketing chum of mine) - is set in the car park of The Dysart Arms pub opposite Richmond Park. Many a happy hour was spent in the pub on Wednesday evenings and on Saturdays after races when I used to help behind the bar. It was a good old fashioned pub with both a saloon and public bar, where the beer was cheaper, and a great landlord, Jim, who fully embraced the club and even came away on our annual outlying run weekend to Oxfordshire (best not to get into what happened on those trips in this blog ... oh dear!). The pub was featured in the opening credits of this year's London Marathon TV coverage when Sue Barker charted the initial discussions on the viability of the race that were held in the pub with the likes of Chris Brasher, John Disley and me! Sadly the pub has now been converted into Dysarts, a bistro type place with lousy beer, no atmosphere and a frosty relationship between pub & club (members drink at the top of Richmond Hill nowadays). A sad but inevitable consequence of today's society I guess.

Anyway, I digress. We met at 6pm on Wednesdays - it was always a struggle for me to get there, having commuted home from London then driven to Richmond. As a consequence of ongoing continuous heavy training I always felt like a zombie before Wednesday runs - possibly this was partly psychosomatic as I pondered the evening run - to the extent that it was a struggle to even jog at first, such was my weariness. Thankfully the others would be feeling the same and the first couple of miles along the flat paths in the park leading towards Kingston gate were always painfully slow with a lot of idle chat. But this was the perfect way to get into the run ...

As we approached Kingston the chat would gradually fade away and imperceptibly the pace start to pick up. No-one would say anything about this, it all happened naturally (there were no coaches in those days telling us to pick up the pace blah, blah, blah). By the time we reached a good hill just after the gate we were starting to really move, and off the top of the hill we were in top gear and absolutely flying. This hard threshold pace would be sustained to Robin Hood gate where, having done a couple of miles at pace we dropped down to a jog and regrouped. We started up again along the meadows towards Roehampton and the pace soon picked up; this time we sustained what must have been sub five minute miling all the way back to Richmond gate, another 2-3 miles. The lap of the park was about eight miles; we'd then regroup and add a few miles down into Richmond and back along the Thames towpath, generally at a good steady six minute miling, giving us about 13-14 miles in total. This was a hard session but so rewarding - the beer always tasted good afterwards as we chatted away into the evening.

This type of run is absolutely vital to a marathoner's armoury yet almost impossible to replicate. I tried it a couple of times a year or so ago on unsuspecting clubmates at Cirencester and it worked, but in today's regimented and structured coach induced training sessions this type of run cannot be categorised. It was all about feel and natural inclinations and was dictated somewhat by extreme weariness of the runners. Perhaps this is the problem today, runners don't experience that total wipeout fatigue that makes just walking a few strides so difficult. I wish I could bottle what I experienced all those years ago on a Wednesday evening and sprinkle it on today's runners.

My Blog Hero of the week (a new idea): Martin Croucher (see Jon Young's picture), fresh from taking part in the Two Oceans 36 miler in Cape Town, South Africa (a race I did a few years ago and would recommend to anyone, it knocks spots off London, NY etc), won the local Parkrun 5km race last Saturday. He doesn't profess to being a top athlete but just loves the sport - the fact that he's run races dressed up as various cartoon characters attests to this. He wrote a lovely piece for the Ciren AC website about surprisingly finding himself in the lead and how he dealt with it. This was his first ever race win and is something he'll never forget. Well done mate, thoroughly deserved and one to dine out on for years to come.

New target

2010-05-02T17:24:00.009+01:00

I have only finished 20 marathons since my first one as a 19 year old in 1976, some 34 years ago. Given that I went through a phase of doing 3 or 4 a year in the mid 80's that leaves a lot of gaps. This week I read in Athletics Weekly that only a select few runners in the world have completed a sub 3 hour marathon in five separate decades. At London last weekend the first two Britons were added to this small group: Chris Finill who has run in all 30 Londons, and my old combatant from school days (he was at Roan, nr Greenwich, me Raynes Park), Steve Smythe. Steve won't thank me for reproducing this picture of the two of us battling it out in the Mitcham 25km in January 1981 (the Ranelagh gazette records that there was a strong northerly wind and a mid-race snow blast, hence the socks on my hands [running gloves hadn't been invented then nor colour photography it seems]).

This got me thinking and so I dusted off my old running records: had I run a marathon each decade? I knew that I went 10 years and then 15 years avoiding the classic distance, so wasn't sure how the dates slotted in. It transpires that I have indeed run marathons in four consecutive decades, the 70's (5), 80's(12), 90's(1) and 00's(2), all at 2.47 or faster, as recorded elsewhere on this blog. So I now have a new challenge: to run a sub 3 hour marathon this decade and maintain my long standing duel with Steve (he ran 2.46 last week). It was only a year ago that I ran 2.47 at Lochaber but, of course, it feels a lot longer than that given what has happened since. But surely I can muster up enough energy to potter round in sub 7's for a 2.50 something over the next 9½ years.

Whilst delving deep into my past I found this old picture from the last mile of the New York City Marathon 1981 (2:26). I might be biased having run six of them, but there is no doubt in my mind that this is the greatest of the city marathons - there is something special about the course, not least the fact that it goes through all five boroughs from Staten Island through Brooklyn, Queens, Manhattan and The Bronx ("you're in The Bronx now man so you gotta run fast" was the rather frightening proclamation on a banner at the 20 mile mark one year). Standing on the start line you can just about make out the famous Manhattan skyline (changed, sadly, since I was last there) on a clear day, and that's where you are headed. It's tough because it wasn't designed to be fast as later city marathons like London were, but as a consequence takes in all the best bits (and some of the worst, see above!), including the magnificent views onto Manhattan across the Queensboro' bridge and the delights of the rolling hills in Central Park for the last few miles.

Finally, great news from the selectors at uk:a after London on Sunday (you don't often hear that), so everything now geared towards Barcelona in July = hot!

Parkrun fun

2010-04-24T19:18:00.006+01:00

Swindon now hosts a Parkrun every Saturday morning, in Lydiard Park; they've spread like wild fire since Ranelagh club mate Paul Sinton-Hewitt started them up a few short years back. Simple format: register your name, turn up for 9am any Saturday at any venue (see excellent Parkrun website) and run 5km. Time and position recorded and published online usually before you get home, along with all sorts of statistics and photos. All free of charge.

Despite, or perhaps because of, my pathetic lack of fitness, I've pitched up for a few of these and absolutely loved their informality, the first one was won by a guy running with his dog. What a wonderful antidote to the commercial brashness of this weekend's over-populated London Marathon. Cirencester's Adrian Williams won today's race in a course record 16:35 - he's had quite a week, his first ever race win last Sunday, at the Highworth 5, today's course record and sandwiched between the two his 35th birthday. On top of all that he's just succumbed to Facebook!

The only danger of Parkrun is in its popularity. At some of the bigger venues, turnouts are regularly over 200 and a breed of runner is evolving who never runs anything but Parkruns, their sole aim in life being to achieve a t-shirt for running 50, 100, 250 even 500 of the things. This is having an impact on some clubs; I know at Ranelagh, which has a full fixture list through the winter (championship, league, mob, inter-club, handicap races), many members are doing the Parkruns instead. These runs are certainly great fun and to be fully encouraged whether for serious racing, coming back from injury or just for exercise with the dog/child, but a thriving club scene is vital for the longevity of our wonderful sport.

3 miles is my absolute limit at the moment: as well as my osteitis causing pain in the abdomen and adductors, my Achilles aches like hell (thought having time off would ease that) and my arthritic hip is causing me all sorts of problems. Add in constant headaches and feeling that I've been dragged through a hedge backwards (wouldn't mind if it was off 80 miles a week, not 12), and it's no surprise that I'm struggling. I'm getting out for 15-20 mins a few times a week, which is at least giving me some fresh air & exercise and has stopped my weight gain.

Talking of weight, I was particularly pleased that I didn't put any on a couple of weeks ago after a big 50th birthday party of an old school friend in London. I had a few drinks for the first time this year and apart from feeling a bit weary the next morning (!) I still went for an easy run; it felt like the old days when a Saturday afternoon race was followed by a few pints then the long Sunday run chatting to friends about the night before, if remembered. Highlight of the party came when the birthday girl tried to guess Claudie's age and underestimated it by 12 years (all started when she said to Claudie, "your turn next"!). It certainly made her feel good about her dieting - yes, she's been losing weight (lots of) while I've been adding it.

There will be a lot of nervous runners (& non-runners) tonight with the marathon on in the morning. Good luck to all, especially from Ranelagh / Cirencester, at least the weather is looking good this year. I had planned to be up there but Michelle pulled out with injury on Friday, very frustrating. Sweating on Monday's selection meeting now.

Finally, my best wishes go to a good running friend, Tim Willson, following his minor heart scare this week. He's a great guy with a wicked sense of humour and may he soon be back to full health & fitness. Tim isn't on Facebook but his Cockerel, Roger (see picture), is and has many friends including, sadly, me.

Trouser troubles

2010-03-24T21:12:00.007Z

I held on as long as possible but inevitably have succumbed on the trouser front. I've been a size 32 for a long, long time and in late 2008 / early 2009 had to tighten my belt (literally rather than figuratively) as my heavy training meant size 30 was the order of the day - I know, I looked emaciated but I was as fit as I'd been in 20 years and could eat and drink all I wanted! Claudie went shopping last week and brought back two pairs of size 34. I wanted to hold off in the vain hope that I could shed some lbs, but it's not going to happen; I have to say it is good to be able to have trousers that now fit.

Since deciding not to drink in January, I've hardly touched alcohol (plan was to refrain for one month only). I've become virtually teetotal which is a great worry, not least given the thought of all those wonderful wines maturing in my cellar (aka cupboard under the stairs). I guess the only good thing is that the decent clarets will get time to properly mature for real depth of flavour rather than be tasted too young - all assuming I start up again. Otherwise, keep your eyes open for an exciting auction with bargains galore.

Not much happening on the running front, apart from working hard in helping out a few people, although am getting out for a few easy 15 minute potters just to break up the day at work. Adductor muscles in particular just won't ease. Will see how Jeremy B gets on following his dosage of pamindronate administered in January. I'm not really inclined at my age to go down this avenue (see 7 Feb blog), especially as Dr Rod Jaques made it clear that the evidence of improvement is only really anecdotal at present (and with younger, healthier athletes?), but if Jeremy, a sensible guy and decent athlete, genuinely feels that it has helped him then I may go down the same route.

As not much happening and this is a running blog, which I want to keep going (not least because of some interesting feedback from some very unlikely sources all over the world), I will talk next time about my training routine in the 80's. I warn you it was pretty unscientific (coaches were unheard of and my knowledge only evolved later) but mighty effective, involving, as it did, lots of miles and lots of pints! Life was good.

Best of luck to all those in heavy training for a spring marathon. Hopefully the hard work has been done and you are now nursing yourself through to the big day, perhaps with some shorter sharpening up runs (DH, in your case, perhaps it's time to start building up the mileage!).

PS David R, if you read this, rest assured I haven't forgotten you want to borrow the LM '87 video. I'll bring it up next time I'm in town.

Cavin Woodward

2010-03-07T16:23:00.006Z

I was saddened to hear of the death last week of Cavin Woodward. He was only 62. Woodward was a legend in the ultra distance running world in the 70's & 80's. Although I didn't know him that well, I came across him sometimes in races and remember taking the best part of 10 miles to catch him in the brutally tough Isle of Wight Marathon in heatwave temperatures in 1985, a race I eventually won by five minutes in 2:32. He had the unique gift of going off at an apparently suicidal pace in even the longest races and holding on to win them. His opponents were usually dumbfounded - especially quality foreigners brought across to race the big ultras - as they didn't know what to do: follow & blow up or be patient and watch victory disappear into the distance. Woodward won the 55 mile London to Brighton classic a few times but is probably best remembered for an awesome performance at Tipton in 1976 ...

... this was a 100 mile track race and the organisers had brought together a top quality field with the hope that the existing world record of 11.56.56 could be broken. Woodward ran the first mile in 5.19! He then went through 10 miles in 56.27, 20 miles in 1.54 and the marathon in 2.31. He still had the best part of three more marathons to complete. He inevitably slowed but broke three world records: 50 miles in 4.58.53 (that's sub 6 minute miling), 100km in 6.25.28 and the magic 100 mile record with 11.38.54.

He was by all accounts a lovely man and was a great stalwart of Leamington AC, as have been many of his family. A great loss to the sport.

I watched the Bath Half Marathon this morning in crisp sunshine and with a gathering bitter wind. The course consists of two laps plus a mile or so at the start & finish. It was great for spectating as even an old, unfit & injured cripple like me could just jog across the bridges over the Avon and spectate in four places. When the leaders went through the 8 mile mark on the second lap they were already lapping literally thousands of runners who'd just gone through two miles. It was an amazing sight and one that Woodward's generation from 30 years ago would not have believed possible. The sport has changed a great deal in that time; sadly standards have dropped alarmingly whilst participants have increased massively. Many run for charity and raise thousands of pounds, which is commendable in itself, but it is such a shame that more of those in the middle don't believe that they can run faster, especially as they appear to put in so much effort.

It is, of course, easy to measure the general decline in standards over the years in running events - you just compare ranking lists. But in other sports this is not so easy to do, the obvious example being the national game: football. Pundits and the public alike appear to think it natural to assume that England should be challenging to win the World Cup every four years. We were good enough in 1966, why not now? I can think of many reasons why 2010 won't be the year, the obvious one being the domination of foreigners in the Premier League, but nobody seems to take into account the drop in standards in measurable events such as distance running and transfer them to team sports such as football. I've just seen today's Davis Cup tennis result, losing to Lithuania rather supports my argument. I rest my case. Does hosting the 2012 Olympics enhance or otherwise the prospects for the nation? I know my answer to that and it is not the former. Something to think about over your Sunday evening drink and roast before sitting down in front of the tv or the pc ...

A mucky end

2010-02-23T21:17:00.011Z

That's it then ...

The Richmond Park course, usually dry as a bone, was quite mucky in places. This clearly explains my 10 minute decline in 12 months over a mere 7½ miles. I got round my 139th mob match but only just. Dragging my aching limbs through the mud on the second lap was cruel and when added to my total inability to maintain a forward running motion on the slightest of climbs, all helps to make my decision about the future quite easy.

The day was a wonderful occasion as Ranelagh pulled out all the stops to match the club record turnout of 106 in 1988, just failing as 92 toed the line. We therefore easily won the match to give the club a 2-2 record this winter in mobs. As ever with Blackheath, the craic afterwards was fantastic as we all retired to The Roebuck at the top of Richmond Hill and talked about the day, races past and anything else that came up, over a few pints. Surely the whole point of sport and something that, at Ranelagh at least, hasn't changed. Even our best man and my ex-flatmate, Simon Collingridge, was there (fatter than ever but still beating me). This is why I've kept my links and why I do the mobs. Going to a local Sunday morning 10k, running the race and driving straight home in wet kit loses the essence of what the camaraderie of sport means.

Some interesting comparative statistics say a lot about what has happened to the sport in the last 22 years since our biggest turnout. In 1988, the first two (Tim Nash of Blackheath 14 seconds ahead of Hugh Jones) broke 40 mins; 90 broke 50 mins; 16 failed to beat the hour and the last finisher in 198th did 1:08:40. On Saturday the winner (Phil Killingley) ran 43:40, 1:40 clear of Pete Haarer in 2nd and 3:40 ahead of 3rd; 12 beat 50 mins; 68 took more than an hour and the recorders had to wait until 1:43:53 for the 123rd and last finisher.

Amazing statistics and why I keep telling those that want to listen that there are opportunities out there, for anyone willing to put in some hard graft, to make a real impact on the sport. That's also why I like helping those with the right attitude who recognise that they can improve massively with good solid training over a sustained period and not just every February & March because London is just around the corner. It's all about lifestyle and attitude. Train hard, have belief and enjoy a balanced life i.e. not just running. Talking of which, picture shows Natalie working hard in Paris.

Will I do a Sinatra / Henin / Schumacher? Who knows, but I see no pleasure in grafting out 57 mins in a mob match on an ongoing basis. My health problems mean that a return is unlikely.

PS If anyone is interested in buying my 2003 MG TF please get in touch.

Dutch courage needed

2010-02-18T20:05:00.016Z

Just had to take this photograph. Was out walking in the freezing Dutch countryside in Schoorl, a small north-west coastal village, last weekend when came across this haulage yard. What a magnificent moniker for a haulage company: Krap Transport if you can't read it (click on picture for better view). The business pages of a national broadsheet has been running a thread of these this week so I got mine added today.

Schoorl was also the venue for my first beers of 2010, a whole 45 days into the year. They went down very well as I watched the Dutch going mad over their first gold in the Olympics, in speed skating. I even managed a half decent run despite the bitter weather. Did a 38 minute warm-down (not that I'd raced) in reverse direction on the beautiful 10k course (not full distance I might add, missing a loop at start) after Michelle's great win. It was a good day's sport with 21km and 30km races starting together at 11am (5,000 runners) and then the international 10km at 2.30pm with another 5,000 runners. All in this tiny village with one hotel and a handful of houses, plus aforementioned excellent haulage company. It snowed nearly all day but the temperature stayed just above freezing so the roads were just about ok. See this short video for a view of the lovely course & conditions: http://www.groetuitschoorl.nl/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=137:bekijk-de-sfeerbeelden&catid=2:nieuws&Itemid=49

My room mate at the hotel was an Irish PhD student - physics, so we discussed the wonderful programme on infinity on tv last week - he ran in the 30km. Remarkably, after I inevitably bored someone else with my osteitis pubis, it turns out that he suffered with it a couple of years ago. Said patience was the key plus lots of core work. He also told me that the top class US college based Irish runner Martin Fagan also suffers with it. He is a reknowned hard man and is trying to run through it. All I can say is good luck but beware of what you are doing to yourself. That's now six athletes I'm aware of with this problem. By talking to as many as possible I'm building up some sort of picture; this might help my future decision making.

I shall certainly need some Dutch courage to get round Saturday's mob match. I clicked over another year this week so not only do I have to fight lack of fitness through virtually no running, but also senility and creaking joints. However, there is one thing I've learnt from a horrible 12 months: do not regret growing older, it is a privilege denied to many. With my 38 mins in Holland, another 27 mins in Fairford (too far, bad reaction afterwards) and a couple of short jogs, I've done all I can to prepare given the circumstances so let's see if I can negotiate Richmond Park. Miles 13 (that's 60 in 8 weeks this year), weight 12st 13lbs.

PS Can't end without congratulating Wendy & Justin on the birth of Gabriel (Angel) this week. With Niel recently fathering a son it's now down to Adam to complete the hat trick of Cirencester babies born within a few weeks of each other.

Blogging works

2010-02-13T09:12:00.004Z

Another four attempts at running this week: 15 mins on Ag College grass; 23 minutes at the water park nr Somerford Keynes; 15 mins around lakes at Fairford and a 25 min run one evening in the dark to Siddington. Although this last run went relatively well in that I was able to run without stopping, my abdomen and adductors were painful afterwards. I don't feel that there is any fitness percolting through either but I'll keep going through to the mob match and probably beyond for a while just to test Dr Rod Jaques' prognosis.

Before I went down with osteitis pubis I'd never heard of the problem. Although it's not normally a running related injury - generally it's associated with kicking sports - I now know of three other runners (well two runners plus Chris Riches - sorry Chris!) who have experienced it. The two others are / were both very good runners and have only been in touch with me because of my blog. So good news: the blog works in terms of creating debate and discussion, and more importantly, someone reads it!

Miles: 12, weight 12st 12lbs (82kg), minor improvement.

On the track ...

2010-02-07T21:14:00.004Z

An interesting week started with a track session in Stoke*, it was a good one too with not a steeplechase barrier in sight: 25 x 400 compound with alternate fast and float laps. Thankfully I was only holding the stopwatch although I did help with some pacing for Michelle and did a good long warm down with her. Not sure how much good it did me as rigamortis had set in by the time I got home.

That's about as good as my running got all week. Did my usual easy run on the grass at the Ag College on Sunday then spent the week fighting off a sore throat. Only did one other easy run, during which was spotted by Jon Young who was so surprised he stopped the car to get out and check it was me (you can't do anything in Ciren without being spotted!). This was good as it allowed me to stop for a chat and gather my breath. Funny how the last thing you think of when running 80 miles a week is breathing, when it's the first thing on the mind doing a slow two miler when out of condition.

I had hoped that this long lay-off would be good for my Achilles but sadly not. Presumably because of the long inactivity it is now agony again after my pitiful attempts at running. As it is now six months since last seeing him and I've saved up my pennies in the meantime, thought a return visit to Dr Rod £aques was in order this week. As expected little came of it although his squeeze tests indicated that things were not so bad that I couldn't run. So he has encouraged me to gradually build up my running for a month (didn't tell him about the mob match!) with a view to reviewing again (more pennies) and if any further reaction, put plan B into place, which appears to be the intravenous administration of a drug (pamindronate) generally used on post-menopausal women to encourage bone growth! Not sure I'm really interested in going that far down the line. Just giving up running seems the easier option.

* there's often been talk at the club in Ciren about having a proper running track and what a difference it would make; I noticed a sign on the gate at the track in Stoke stating that annual subs were due at £85 to include hire of the track - that might put a few people off.

Miles: 10, weight 13st 0lbs (no change).

Technique

2010-02-01T21:32:00.009Z

I recently stumbled across this montage of photos taken at a Southern League track meeting in Ilford, Essex in 1982 when running for Richmond & Twickenham AC (Ranelagh didn't have a track team). Clearly they could have been plucked from a coaching manual such is my superb technique! Actually I was quite pleased with top left - until one sees how little of the water I was able to avoid - but I'll admit the others leave something for the purists to cringe over and I'm sure the Kenyans don't stick their tongue out when about to jump! In my defence I had already completed a 5,000 metres that afternoon and was only doing the 'chase to garner points for the club. Like everything, of course, it shows that practice makes perfect.

I did have one great experience at this event. At Raynes Park school we had a really good bunch of runners including 'Ants' Orr who was virtually unbeatable on the circuit (he won many county xc champs). He and I ran in the Surrey Schools 2,000 steeplechase at Motspur Park where Chariots of Fire was filmed, must have been 1974, and he very quickly pulled away from the field. On the last lap he was some 50 metres clear and I'd managed to get into a clear second. As most people know I have little knee lift - many contemporaries used to be very frustrated at being beaten by someone resembling a shuffler - but Ants' was worse. As a consequence he, like me, struggled to get over the barriers. The 'chase is unforgiving, especially when fatigue sets in. Add a lack of concentration and the inevitable happens; in the case of the race leader it was total immersion in the water as he stumbled across the barrier. I spotted my chance and although he was and still is a good friend (he's actually a methodist minister these days) and I'm an absolute gentleman, I accelerated, accidently pushed him back under the water as I traversed the barrier in my own inimitable style and proceeded to stride home for a totally unexpected win.

Back to reality: got out four times again this week, albeit not for very long each time. With two evening Farmor's School Governors meetings plus a business trip to London, where I managed to slip in lunch with old chum Simon in The Olde Watling pub, it was a busy week but one can always find time to have a run if organised. Even though the running is pathetic, I'm at least building a routine that may, just may, stand me in good stead as time goes by.

Miles: 9. Weight 13st 0lbs (no change).

This isn't working ... no surprise there

2010-01-27T20:10:00.008Z

Second week into my new training regime: good news was managing four runs in the week and completing the mob match distance of 8 miles. Bad news is that the latter was achieved only by adding all four runs together! Yes, 4 x 15 minutes was the sum of my work, which sounds like a good Saturday tempo session but of course was far from it. A couple of lunchtime potters around the lakes in Fairford and two runs on the soft, smooth grass at the Agri College was the extent of my exercise and it was purgatory.

However, some good news comes with the loss of 2lbs, although this is probably a timing issue as my waist is still screaming blue murder every time I try to put on a pair of 32" trousers. Any weight loss will be as a result of no alcohol so far in 2010; cakes, chips and chocolate are also taking a back seat right now.

Add to all that woe, I'm offloading my beloved MG after four years of blissful driving, although thankfully not Claudie and mother-in-law also in the picture. At least it should ensure a long hot summer this year.

Miles: 8. Weight: 13st 0lb (82kg).
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End of the Road

2010-01-20T21:03:00.010Z

Six months since injury stopped me running, eight months since it first manifested itself, there is no improvement and I'm somehow doubting that I'll ever get back. I've decided that I want to do the Blackheath mob match in Richmond Park next month to tidy up the season, meet a few friends, have a beer, stay for a meal and then stop running. To do that I have to generate sufficient fitness to grind my way through 7½ miles. That will be difficult but I'll record my efforts in this blog as it will at least focus my mind.

I'm seeing the specialist again in a couple of weeks but know he'll have nothing new to tell me.

Ok so I started last week. This was mainly because of the snow; I love running in the white stuff when it's fresh and couldn't resist getting out there. Drove up to Deer Park school and did three figure of eight loops in pristine virgin snow, it was beautiful. A single 4WD vehicle had driven along part of the field and I jogged in the tracks; for the rest I just ran through the light, fluffy snow. Two miles was the result. It's a mighty effort deciding on going out, changing, driving to the run & back, showering and changing all for 15 minutes of futile jogging. I repeated the exercise a few days later. My weight at the end of the week was 13st 2lb (84kg). Mileage for the week: 4.
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The Australian Connection (pt 2)

2010-01-10T11:36:00.012Z

Not a bad view from my office window in Fairford (picture courtesy of my colleague Sue). Certainly beats working in the centre of London. Admittedly a strange choice given the theme this week but it is topical for any UK readers. I can think of a few Australians who would love these conditions right now: apparently Melbourne experienced the hottest night for 100 years this week ... 34ºC in the middle of the night!

Australians in their 20's have traditionally spent a couple of years in Europe with London as their base: work for a few months then buy a VW Combi and drive all over the continent taking in the sights, festivals etc. I always referred to it as their National Service. The girls who used to come through Queensland House, where I worked for many years, always had a wild time before going home and settling down. I'm still in touch with quite a few old friends (Linda, Majella, Donna, Kaye et al). For good runners the opportunities were fantastic: it was a chance to live the life of a professional athlete. Three such runners came over and did just that. They rented a house in Croydon and raced all over Europe. The house became a precursor to the now famous abodes in Teddington where the top Africans, Australians and Americans now live and train, basically a mecca for running with kit strewn around the place, itinerant runners sleeping on floors and always a big pot of food on the boil. I remember one Christmas the three had Italian runners staying with them. The Aussies prepared Christmas dinner with all the trimmings which went down well. By mid-afternoon they were all hungry again so the Italians cooked mounds of pasta! Italy was the favourite location for the guys, a combination of perfect running food and lots of it, plus the best money on offer at races. This was before the African domination so it was quite lucrative. Race organisers liked the publicity of antipodean runners in the field. So who were these three guys?

Max Little aka The Bear or The Tasmanian Devil, was the best runner. Another Tasmanian obviously - see my last blog - he ran in the World XC, later becoming Australia's team manager many times, won races all over Europe and had track pb's of 13:55 and 28:36, finishing 4th in the AAA 10,000 behind Brendan Foster at Crystal Palace. In his formative years as a runner he once completed 20 consecutive weeks of training between 100 and 141 miles. This workload couldn't be sustained but created a fantastic base for his future success and can be learned from - get the hard work done early and then your career is set up. The Americans are doing that right now and look at the results they are getting. Max was tall and looked like a stick insect but I've never known anyone eat as much as he did. He also had the wickedest sense of humour and was a real pleasure to be around. Like fellow international Jim Langford (last blog), Max was always happy to turn out for Ranelagh in Surrey League or Mob matches and loved the social element of the club. I remember persuading him to do the Newport to Tredegar 22 miler one December. This was the day after a Surrey League, which Max had won, and we drove down to S Wales in my old Ford Anglia. The rain never stopped, it was torrential, and my windscreen wipers failed! The race winds its way uphill all the way through some dire mining villages - goodness knows why we did it - with lashing rain throughout. For Max it was just another way to get a long Sunday run done - he was virtually last after a mile and just ran easily throughout - as well as to experience another part of the world. Similarly when training with the club on a Wednesday he was nearly always dropped in the first couple of miles because it was an easy run. His self-control and determination to do the training that was right for him was a lesson that today's runners can learn from.

Geoff Nicholson, known as Nicko, was also a top runner, albeit not in Max's class. He had some fine track pb's (8:14 whilst hitch-hiking through Sweden, 14:05, 29:30) and also loved cross country. He was good enough to make some decent money on the European circuit. I'll never forget the first time I met him, which would have been in the late 1970's. He sported a particularly hirsute look: long ginger hair and a fiery beard that hadn't been trimmed for many months - he looked like a heavy metal rock musician (I've seen a similar picture of Rob deCastella before he, like Nicko, became respectable). We still see a lot of Geoff as he comes to the UK regularly on business. He still runs regularly - despite rising to the very top in the business world he insists on getting out every day for his lunchtime run in Melbourne - and turns out most years in the famous City to Surf race in Sydney (being, I think, the only person to have run a time under his age for the tough 14km course that attracts some 75,000 participants). He's just bought a property with 27 acres of land so perhaps he might build a running track and we can all go warm weather training there.

The third of this triumvirate was George Thomas, who was without doubt the most influential person in my running career. George wasn't in the same class as the other two but loved his running and was a qualified and commited coach. He also loved fine wines which definitely endeared him to me. He stayed on in Europe for a number of years and became a very close friend. In the late 70's, when cricket was still my main sport and I only ran in winter for socialising purposes, George said to me that with a bit of application I could end up with an international vest. I put this ridiculous comment down to too much port, he and the others regularly downed great dollops of the stuff, but it sowed a seed in my mind and I started to apply myself to my running. He was a great mentor to me in subsequent years and the two of us used to race a lot in Holland where he ended up working. Even after he returned to Austrtalia he took a great interest (and pride perhaps) in my progress and even though I didn't ever get that elusive vest, I got a lot closer than would otherwise have been the case thanks to George and had a wonderful time trying. Tragically George had a heart attack and died aged 43 whilst driving home from a 10km race. A great man and a true friend.

The Australian Connection (pt 1)

2010-01-05T17:41:00.014Z

An interesting festive period has now ended and if it wasn't for the heavy snow currently falling outside, things would be getting back to normal. I even managed a run, a race in fact. I just had to do the Boxing Day charity 4 miler at Cheltenham race course in memory of Pete Holmes who had won the race in 2008. Before the race I had the humbling experience, thanks to Chris Riches, of meeting Pete's parents who came along with his brother to support the run and present the winning trophy, which now bears their son's name. What lovely people and how they have kept their dignity and poise in such tragic circumstances. The run was purgatory for me, weight has ballooned by over two stone (see the evidence alongside) and any semblance of fitness disappeared a long time ago. Treacherous icy patches didn't help and checking my watch at the one mile mark (8min, must have been long) confirmed my worst fears. Still, I caught the enormous bulk that is Dave Newport in the last mile, gave him a smug look and uttered some fanciful words like: 'good luck mate, hope you get to the finish ok'. This lump of lard then proceeded to ease past me (thankfully the road was wide at that point) and stride towards the finish leaving me speechless, less than smug and totally out of breath.

The next day, as part of a very social Christmas / New Year (23 in our house one evening!), we had Australian visitors to lunch, Jim and Margaret Langford and their respective daughters. Jim was a top class runner, winning the Australian XC Champs on more than one occasion and finishing 30th in the World XC Champs in Limerick in 1979. A number of us went over to support Jim and despite a very heavy weekend indeed (we stayed with mad Irishman and fellow Ranelagh Harrier Gerry Walsh, who with his twin and the rest of his eight siblings could drink with the best of them), I can still remember cheering Jim on down the home straight in the pouring rain and clawing mud, and gate crashing the official party later that evening. He ran with Ranelagh and got himself totally integrated into the club scene, racing every week and rewriting the record books. I remember a classic race between him and Hugh Jones in a mob match in 1976, Jim prevailing by 10 seconds in 38.53, a course record by a long way.

Jim was so enamoured by the Ranelagh scene that the poor guy accepted an invitation to the Isle of Man Easter athletic festival. This was not a weekend for the faint-hearted. As the name implies it takes place at Easter, not the warmest time of the year. It's good for the local economy because all the guest houses get filled up out of season; unfortunately none of them have any heating! I did this event five times and always went down with a heavy cold a couple of weeks later. Whilst, again as the name implies, there was athletics involved, the weekend has other attractions also ... there are three races: a five miler on a brutal course starting & finishing on the famous TT grid and taking in the superb Douglas sea front; a 4 x 3 mile relay taking in the same tough hill as Friday night, and finally a four mile fell race on the other side of the island in Peel (this latter event not always taken that seriously, I well remember stopping for a pint after half a mile, before the climb started, downing half of it and leaving the rest for the return journey). Tradition dictates that after this last race the runners jog back across the island, about 12 miles, to Douglas ... stopping at every pub for a drink along the way! The final event of the weekend was the beer race, always totally dominated by the university teams. Manchester University, aka Far Canal AC (think about it), usually won in a canter in the 4 x 1 pint format. By this stage we were all a little tired, especially given that we didn't go to bed at 10pm each night in anticipation of the next day's race! In fact in one year a madman from Edinburgh University, Robin Thomas was his name, decided to attempt (for charity) to run 100 miles and drink 100 pints in the 100 hours of the festival weekend. He was successful in his bid despite being an epileptic. Unfortunately he was billetted in our guest house which meant either signing for yet another pint with him at 3am or, even worse, accompanying him on another couple of miles at the same hour of the morning. Unforgettable times. Jim was never the same again. He is still running though at 65 and is also adept at rogaining, a form of long distance orienteering (look it up on google).

A few days before Christmas I received an e-mail out of the blue from another Australian acquaintance, Mike Dalton (Dorley to his friends). Mike (no. 574 in the picture, a veterans 5,000m race in 2008) stumbled across my blog and got in touch, I knew there was a purpose in writing this dross, someone out there reads it and, in this case, gets in touch after many years. It works! Mike and his friend Dean Giblin (in red singlet), both from Tasmania, also ran with Ranelagh, around 1990. These guys were quality athletes (Dorley ran 1.03.56 / 2.16; Dean won our half marathon and was a top class 1500/5000m runner). Claudie and I now need to add Tasmania to our many places to visit, especially as Dorley's address is the inspirationally named Seven Mile Beach!

I guess the first Aussie I knew at Ranelagh was the legendary Mal Cother - he arrived in 1970, having travelled via the Trans-Siberian express to watch the Commonwealth Games in Edinburgh. He arrived on a six month visa and left in about 1990, 20 years later! And what a legacy he left. His story telling at social dinners was amazing, he was so self-deprecating and his jokes bizarre in the extreme. The Ranelagh clubhouse used to be full of his possessions as he slept in the changing rooms for many years!

More next time on Mal plus close friends Max Little, Geoff Nicholson and George Thomas and sundry other Aussies. I might even regale readers about my 11 years working at Queensland House in London and the many friends made there if space allows. There is no doubt that my running and social heritage stems to a large extent from these wonderful Australian friends.

Christmas

2009-12-24T22:59:00.006Z

Here we are folks, Christmas with the family and snow on the ground, just like in all the books. Just watched the Kirov Ballet's Swan Lake after a warming venison supper with my sister, which has got us into festive mode.

But it's also a time for reflection, in my case thinking of the nine people I know who have sadly been lost this year, including four under 25 and Natalie's dear Godfather Stephen. I'm particularly thinking of his wife and children tonight and also the family of Pete Holmes whose funeral was just a few days ago. It was unfair to see what his parents and brother had to go through that day. And to think their suffering has only just started.

All the above makes it imperative that we enjoy Christmas and look forward to a happy, prosperous and friendly New Year. To all those reading this dross, thanks for putting up with me for the last 12 months and have a great festive break.

The Psychology of Running

2009-12-15T19:11:00.008Z

After spending last Sunday afternoon erecting and decorating an enormous Christmas tree in our lounge – why do we humans do such bizarre things? – I felt that I deserved to sit down and read the Sunday Times accompanied by a particularly large whisky, a packet of crisps and with a Rachmaninov piano concerto blasting away. (This custom started in my early 20’s after my flatmate Simon Collingridge and I had been out for our second Sunday run of the day, thus completing another weekend of hard training, drinking and, in Simon’s case, womanising. Trouble was it always seemed to be my whisky being consumed ...)

There was a brilliant Q&A piece on Sir Christopher Chataway (CC) in the ST and it made me laugh a lot. It also made me think. CC is now in his late 70’s and still competes in mob matches for Thames, although was absent when we thrashed them a couple of weeks ago. He was a very fine runner in the 50’s, being particularly remembered, along with my old chum Chris Brasher, for his part in Roger Bannister’s first 4 minute mile in 1954. Brasher took the first two laps, Chataway took it on for the third, leaving Bannister to take the glory at the end.

CC’s finest memory is of his famous 5,000m race against the Russian Vladimir Kuts in October that year. There were 40,000 spectators in the White City stadium in London. In those days there were no floodlights, instead two searchlights followed the runners as they circled the track in the cool autumnal evening, that must have been something special to watch. CC won the race by inches in a new world record of 13.51. Compared to today’s pampered, lottery funded, shoe sponsored, athletes, the top runners of the 50’s had nothing going for them. They did very little training (there having been no real science on the subject), ran in heavy, old leather shoes with no support, and on rough and often flooded cinder tracks ... and they nearly all smoked! CC stated that he cut down to seven cigarettes a day during the summer when he was competing!

So how were they able to run so fast? For starters anyone who ran then had a perception in their mind of what was needed to be competitive and therefore had an inherent belief that they could run at the necessary speed. This is an argument I’ve used a lot when talking to today’s runners about why standards were so much better in the 80’s – you effectively turned up at your club and ran at the pace necessary to keep up, then went away and trained hard on your own so that you could keep up the following week! At a finance seminar I recently attended, someone quoted the famous economist John Maynard Keynes on the paradox of thrift: "if we are all prudent together, there can be no growth." Growth being exactly what our economy needs at present but thrift and lack of ambition holding it back. This can easily been linked to training. There's no point just pottering along together at an easy pace (prudence) when to get fitter (growth) it takes more investment in extra input, effort and energy. No gain without pain.

Back to the 50's, at the highest level it then became a psychological battle to be the best. The Austrian Franz Stampfl coached all three of the 4 minute mile protagonists. As well as being one of the early pioneers of the standard interval session on the track (yep, blame him every time you are asked to do 10 x 400 off 200 recovery), he had a strong belief in the mental aspect of training and racing. As CC stated in the article, he conveyed masses of positive thoughts to the runner, including just before the Kuts race: "don’t forget he’s just as frightened of you." I’ve always tried to convey this to athletes i.e. don’t look across at the guy running alongside you in a race and assume he is better than you; think positively about how the guy is hanging on for dear life and also show positivity to make him feel even worse, a little smile perhaps or a gentle surge for a few metres. This can be the difference between a good and a great runner. A little bit of arrogance is a good thing in a runner.

CC won the first ever Sports Personality of the Year award in 1954, quite remarkable considering that Bannister had broken the 4 minute barrier. However, his greatest memory of that night wasn’t collecting the famous outside broadcast camera trophy but of being given an enormous, extremely expensive cigar!

Finally, some good news at last for me to end an all round tough year. No, I don't mean winning Ciren's athlete of the year award, although very proud of that despite my embarrassing beer belly. I've been asked and have accepted to mentor and coach a top UK international distance athlete. We live some distance apart but have met up a couple of times already, contact each other on a daily basis and are both looking forward to an exciting 2010. It's going to be hard work and a real challenge but hopefully fun as well.

Pete Holmes 1985-2009

2009-12-07T21:25:00.006Z

Pete Holmes died at the weekend at the age of 24.

In his short life he achieved masses, running initially with Tetbury Royals, then Cirencester AC before going to Loughborough University and joining up with Cheltenham Harriers.

Upon graduating he landed a plum job as media officer with the British Triathlon Association and then, presumably because he was good at what he did, last year became communications manager of the International Triathlon Union based in Vancouver, Canada, from where he travelled the world of professional triathlon events.

It was in Canada that he died, falling from a mountain when out on snowshoes. Words cannot accurately convey the awfulness of this dreadful tragedy.

Pete was a true maverick but the 5,826 hits in the last 24 hours on the thread relating to his death on the running forum website eightlane.com, testify to his popularity and the shock of this awful news within the running community. Never has the oft used phrase Life's too Short been more apt than in relation to Pete's demise.

Pete, I'll never forget Stroud last year when you just prevailed ahead of Wendy & me - you couldn't face the thought of being beaten by the first lady/V50 - and ran down the finishing straight with your now iconic Ryan Hall moment celebrating qualifying for London. That image will stay with me as will our lovely, friendly chat afterwards.

At this difficult time one can only offer the deepest sympathy to those closest to him, his parents, brother and girlfriend.

Two endurance tests in three days

2009-11-22T13:02:00.008Z

Mob match no.138 safely negotiated on probably my favourite of all the courses, Wimbledon Common. I first started running on the common when at school so it has a particular resonance for me and the course is all you'd want from a xc race: woodland tracks, hills, fallen trees to climb over, streams to jump across, some good fast flat stretches and a bit of mud thrown in near the end. Yesterday was made particularly special because we beat our hosts, the oldest running club in the UK, Thames Hare & Hounds. With mob matches being all about numbers, home advantage usually counts, but Ranelagh managed to get 59 hardy souls across from their Richmond HQ - with a little help from the Cirencester branch of the club (see, from left in picture, me, Paul Barlow, Chris Illman & Adrian Williams) - and ran out relatively easy winners, the first away mob win for Ranelagh since 1989.

Chris (4th) and Adrian (7th) were Ranelagh's first finishers and Paul (19th) had a great battle with Ciren second claimer Andy Bickerstaff (yes, it works both ways). Once again I shouldn't have run but as I've now no longer got any running targets to aim for, having lost all semblance of fitness, I've got nothing more to lose so may as well continue to haul my ample frame around these mobs, at least whilst I still make the scoring team! With another few weeks fitness lost since the last outing I found the 7½ miles hard work but was able to just about keep going all the way. As Baron Hansen said: "Life is short ... running makes it seem longer."

My real endurance test of the week was also up in London. I was invited by our investment bankers, Schroders, to a 'tasting evening' at Fortnum & Mason, the famous store in London. I dragged Claudie along kicking & screaming but with the carrot that she could do the London shops and museums the next morning when I was at a seminar that was part of the Schroders deal (that was good too, as the keynote speaker was Sir Ranulph Fiennes). We expected a glass of champagne, as had been promised, and maybe a vol au vont before escaping back to our hotel via a meal somewhere. The reality was very different.

All four floors of the store had been hired by Schroders for the evening and all the F&M staff retained in their full morning dress regalia. There was indeed champagne and canapes, wherever you turned another waiter was proferring one or other the whole evening. All the food counters were open and we were encouraged to try everything ... so we did. Oysters, smoked salmon, caviar washed down with Polish vodka, truffles, foie gras, suckling pig, fresh pasta cooked in front of us, Jamaican ice cream sundaes, afternoon tea cakes, delicate mince pies, Christmas pud & cake, chocolates to die for, cheeses and fine wines. Wow, what an evening. We decided not to stop off and eat on the way back to the hotel.

Finally, reverting to running as I should, I can't let Cirencester's performance in the first Oxford league race of the winter season go by without comment. Adrian managed to get 21 senior men turning out on a foul day at Ascott, that's three full teams, and the first team performed really well. There's a real feeling that under new chairman Dave Edelsten - who took on the world's hardest job since Tony Blair's search for WMD - together with Adrian's captaincy, the club might at last be emerging from the doldrums. I'm only sorry that I'm not part of the team although in many ways I'm pleased that they no longer need to rely on an ailing old bar steward like me. I think I can safely migrate to the bar on a permanent basis.

My man in Rome

2009-11-13T13:11:00.012Z

The world has changed since I were a lad. In those days it was a major expedition to drive from Morden to Portsmouth down the old A3 to see my grandparents and watch the Isle of Wight and channel ferries crossing. We used to play pub cricket in the car - hint: always worth starting your innings just before Cobham as lots of runs to be scored there (for those that don't understand the intricacies of this game, you score by counting the number of limbs in the pub name, thus The White Horse scores 4 (legs) whereas the Queen's Head means you are dismissed) - as the A3 in those days used to meander through villages unlike today's dual carriageway. Anyway, I digress ...

These days people go abroad a few times a year, take a year out to travel and even live and work in far flung places. Hell, we even marry foreigners (guilty as charged, m'lud)! My sister, who is married to a German, has recently moved to Ireland even though she works in London. A friend, Geoff, lives in Australia but regularly commutes to London on business. Whilst we were in Paris a couple of weeks ago we met up with Rob, who works for a Norweigan company, en route to French Guiana for a two day trip (see previous blog) and I swapped a number of texts with my good friend Gavin, an economics journalist for Reuters who lives in Rome. He was in Frankfurt to run a marathon. Confused? Gavin's experience in Frankfurt is definitely worth recounting.(He's pictured here racing in Rome and is also in the Ranelagh 100/125 year celebration pictures at the foot on this blog, he's the one with lots of hair in 1981 and none in 2006.)

Over the last couple of years Gavin, who is a mere 47ish, and I have both got back into semi-serious running after a long break. Our best marathons are similar (low 2.20's) but are ancient history. It was as a consequence of my trip to Rome for the marathon, when Natalie was living out there, that triggered Gavin's renaissance. As it turned out I had flu so didn't run and he had a bit of a 'mare, finishing in 3:10 (he was so slow that I'd stopped looking out for him!). We have since traded times over the half and full distances, each shaving small amounts off the other's best time. We were both going to run Amsterdam this autumn but obviously I was out and he decided he needed another week or two to be ready.

The text on Saturday wasn't promising: he'd made it to Frankfurt but was almost certainly not going to run because he had a temperature (he'd only travelled because everything was booked, I know the feeling). Of course he ran, spending most of the first 8km trying to work out where best to drop out as his chest was tight, he was coughing and he felt dreadful. But there was no obvious place to stop and before he knew it he was swinging along and his legs were fine. He ended up overtaking runners throughout the race and posted a fantastic time of 2.38.37, well under his original 2.40 target. He's also given me a hell of a target to aim for, but that's what I'll try to do ... eventually.

His text after the race was priceless: "Now have [temperature of] 37.5 and burning throat/chest, and am, needless to say, ecstatically happy! As a great man once said 'beware the wounded runner!' " What a man! He is alluding to my blog of 27 February this year with his final comment - it's great to know that someone reads this nonsense.

This story reminds me a bit of Stephen Instone, my friend who sadly died earlier this year. He and I once ran the Sutton ½ Marathon and the local Mayor, in all his regalia, greeted all finishers with a hand shake. He was somewhat shaken however when Stephen said "thanks very much, I was pretty pleased with my run, especially as I've got chicken pox!".

Update on my injury: no change, weight still increasing, trousers no longer fit, main source of exercise is now therapeutic leaf clearance.

How to avoid overdoing the warm-up

2009-11-01T21:21:00.007Z

An interesting couple of weeks: a bit of (painful) running and walking, some socialising, a few beers, good food and travel. Despite no running for 10 weeks, I couldn't resist fronting up in Coulsdon for another mob match, despite my comments last time. Messrs Illman (for stating in the pub that I was bound to do it, even if it was with a walking stick) and Bickerstaff for not believing that I wouldn't turn up, are mainly to blame for me suggesting to Claudie on the Friday evening that she'd enjoy a stroll in the Surrey countryside the next day. She was very good about it, once I picked myself up from the floor she was quite calm.

Decided to drive straight to the start as couldn't face the half mile jog from HQ, so I went changed. An accident on the M3 confirmed this as a good decision; we arrived 4 minutes before the gun, thanks to some adept driving I might state. Having gone through the trauma of decision making, I wasn't about to miss out because of crashes, contra-flows and congestion. A quick pee in the bushes, pinned my number to my ample midriff and off I went very slowly ... I didn't win.

A week later, another mob match. An unusual state of affairs - in fact I can never remember two in two weeks - but by this time Claudie was resigned to my crazed decision making so off we went back up the motorway, or so we thought ... Onto the M4 at Swindon, slowed down to a crawl and then a halt. Once a fire engine shot down the hard shoulder we knew we were in trouble. Switched engine off for 45 minutes, rang Bickerstaff ("good news is that Chris is in the back of the car, bad news is that we are still in Swindon!"). Eventually got going but Richmond Park for 2.30 start looked impossible, not least because it involved crossing the Thames at Kingston or Richmond into congested town centres, and Harlequins were playing at home in Twickenham. Decided on long route - M4, M3, M25, A3 - and it worked. We kept in touch by mobile and arrived in car park adjacent to the race right on the appointed start time. A quick change in the toilets, pinned our numbers, uttered the club cry and set off with the other 61 Ranelagh runners (Orion had 55, a great overall turnout). I didn't win.

This is not the start of my comeback. I was stupid to run these races but at my age it was a way to maintain some sort of positivity in relation to my running. By missing a mob match I would have lost any sort of momentum, having only missed one since 1974, and probably faded away. At least this way, I've deferred any proper recovery by a few weeks but not on a terminal basis. But to any ambitious athletes, can I suggest that you do as I suggest not what I do!

Sandwiched between my two mob matches there was lots of excitement. One of the reasons I ran the first race was that we were staying with friends in Chiswick, which allowed me to spend some quality time with one of my godchildren (I have two, poor souls). We then took the Eurostar from St Pancras to Paris the next day armed with a red cross parcel for Natalie. It appears that she was pining for marmite and Wispa Gold chocolate bars despite developing a love of all things produced by French patisseries.

We had a lovely few days in the French capital in balmy sunshine. We walked for miles (just what I needed!), did the museums and parks, enjoyed some fantastic gastronomic delights (and expensive beer!) in the Latin quarter on the left bank each evening, and generally enjoyed spending time with Natz. Picture shows the two ladies in my life in the most beautiful city in the world.

Whilst in Paris we met up with an old friend, Rob Wise, affectionately known as Le Sage by Claudie. Rob works for Norweigan Telecom (I know ...) in London and was in Paris en route for a two day trip to French Guiana on the South American mainland, to oversee the launch of a $200 million satellite. We had a great chat about old times & friends and pontificated on important matters like Surrey cricket, Brentford football and the comparison between the superb professional set-up of British cycling under Dave Brailsford and the fragmented organisation that is uk:athletics. To be discussed further.

Finally, and sadly, we attended the memorial service for my dear friend Stephen, who died in the summer. It was held at his university, UCL, just a short walk from St Pancras and our trip back on Eurostar. Having missed his funeral as we were abroad, it was important for us to be there amongst his family, friends and colleagues. There were some lovely words spoken by them about a wonderful man.

Missed Mob

2009-10-17T16:01:00.006+01:00

I've started so I'll continue ... I set this up as a running Blog. Unfortunately I'm currently not running, nor am I likely to restart in the forseeable future. However, I enjoy writing and writing about running so I'll endeavour to continue with some relatively topical stuff to maintain momentum. If I do ever start running again, and there has to be some doubt, I will use this Blog to chart my progress from the painful first steps, through a very gradual build-up, ultimately leading to victory in the World Masters Marathon in Brazil in 2013. You read it here first!

Firstly though, a non-running tale (or perhaps tails) of May, Lucy & Max. These are three donkeys we visited in Derbyshire last weekend. We actually went to stay with friends Lyn & Ian in their magnificent house in the hills overlooking Matlock, but Claudie's real desire was to spend time with their donkeys, plus chickens and cats! Taking two of the donkeys for a walk to the pub was worth the drive up to the Dales alone, especially when one decided she was going no further whilst standing in the middle of a main road! A great weekend.

Anyway, back to running. Ranelagh is a traditional running club formed in 1881, making it 128 years old. Like all sporting institutions it has had its ups and downs but it has survived because members love running and enjoy the camaraderie of the sport, bringing together all ages, both sexes, any standards and is classless. The simple mantra, certainly when I was a regular at the club from 1974-1990, was train/race hard then enjoy a pint or two to chew the cud over any subject and with any group you ended up standing around. Great times.

The club has four mob matches each winter; very traditional fixtures with some of the oldest clubs in the country: Thames Hare & Hounds (founded 1868), Blackheath (1869), South London Harriers (1871) and Orion Harriers (1911). With Ranelagh, that's 645 years of existence for just five clubs. The races are on good old fashioned cross country courses over 7½ miles. In one race against Blackheath in the 80's the two clubs mustered 200 runners but these days it's usually between 30-50 per side to score. Since 1974, when my school chemistry teacher Jim Forrest suggested I turn up, I've run 135 of these damn races, that's over 1,000 miles of competitive action in some glorious countryside: Richmond Park, Wimbledon Common, Farthing Downs, Hayes Common and Epping Forest. One race at Blackheath was cancelled because of deep snow and sadly I missed a race in 1999, it would have been my 98th consecutive, due to flu. Having had to commute from Gloucestershire since 1990, that's 75 races or c16,000 miles up and down the M4/M3/M25, my carbon footprint doesn't marry well with the simple freedom of the running, but it's been well worthwhile. I've finished in every position between 1st & 32nd, with a personal worst of 82nd after a long injury lay-off; fallen over countless times; gone off course (mainly in Epping Forest where one year the first four runners finished from the four spectrums of the compass!); chatted about the race in the shower with Ronnie O'Sullivan; raced against at least six Olympians (Chataway, Brasher, Disley, Jones, Welch, O'Sullivan [Sonia, not Ronnie, although snooker will probably be the next sport allowed into the Olympics]); spent many happy hours in the bar afterwards and at (initially stag) riotous suppers where the likes of John Bryant, Chris Brasher, Mal Cother and Auguste Lespinas regaled members from both competing clubs with hilarious and sometimes ribald stories.

Sadly, next Saturday I will miss another Mob due to my Osteitis Pubis and I doubt whether I'll make any of this season's races. It sort of feels like the end of the road, although I'm sure I'll be back for more, if only for the friendship and enjoyment experienced through mixing with people I've run with from all of the clubs over the last 35 years. In fact there was a short piece in Athletics Weekly this week about Les Roberts from Blackheath. He and I used to battle it out near the front in the 80's - he usually prevailed - and share a beer afterwards, but sadly he now has Parkinson's disease. To raise money he's recently cycled from Land's End to John O'Groats despite being on massive amounts of medication. Read his book, great title: From Wits End to John O'Groats. That's what this magnificent sport is all about.

Rio

2009-10-03T20:02:00.003+01:00

So Rio got the 2016 Olympic Games despite Barack's last minute day trip to Copenhagen. That's great news, glad the IOC got something right at last; thankfully it puts the States in their place. Just a shame that pragmatism like this didn't result in Paris getting the 2012 Games instead of London. Their bid was far better with so much more of the infrastructure in place. Unfortunately politics took over, London got the Games and we will pay for it for decades to come. We can already see funding being reduced for sport in other areas i.e. Sport for All as it was and should be. The government is spending billions on what amounts to a two week elite jamboree. All this nonsense about it improving grass roots sport is just that ... nonsense, because there are no facilities for the masses. Crazy. We've just had a fantastic high quality World Athletics Championships from Berlin, at a fraction of the price of the Olympics, yet all the pundits could talk about was whether so and so would be in peak condition for 2012 - what about the next World Champs in Korea in 2011? If I was an international athlete, I would far rather travel to the other side of the world rather than risk wind & rain for a run around the east end of London. What we should have in this country is centralised sports facilities in every town the size of Cirencester or bigger, that's what happens in mainland Europe. It is practical, ensures that facilities, both sporting & social, are utilised cost effectively i.e. every day, and brings camaraderie to local communities. I've seen it in Holland, France, Germany, Italy and, more recently, Finland.

The news is fantastic for Brazil, one of the four developing BRIC countries (Brazil, Russia, India, China) that could well dominate the world economy in the years to come given their size and population. I can't believe it's a year since Wendy ran in the World ½ Marathon Champs in Rio (this year's event is next Sunday in Birmingham, not quite the same methinks). Rio is certainly going to dominate the world's sporting stage, with three major events within three years: working backwards, the 2016 OG, 2014 World Cup soccer and the big one, the World Masters Athletics Champs (I'll be there) in 2013!

On the home front, no progress to report on my injury. It's now eight weeks since Finland and despite not running a step in that time, the Osteitis pain hasn't abated one iota. The only thing I've gained is weight, a full stone now. I've stopped using the exercise bike, as I felt it was aggravating my problem, but am doing some core exercises in a futile effort to make me feel I'm doing something worthwhile. The truth is, only rest will help. With the onset of a touch of arthritis in my right hip, diagnosed by Rod Jaques at the same time as the Osteitis, together with some numbness down my left side (don't ask), the prognosis isn't good. My chances of jogging this winter's Ranelagh mob matches, to keep my continuous streak going, are now pretty forlorn I'm afraid. Still, enough of my self-pity, as my mum used to say in her best Scottish accent, "me, me, me, that's the curse of this wretched world."

Talking of mum, I had the dubious pleasure this afternoon of taking charge of the coconut shy at her care home's autumn bazaar (and very bizarre it was too). Because of the dodgy weather most things were taken back indoors but I was left in the marquee that promised to implode or take-off at any stage in the wild winds. It was all rather surreal and as a consequence my total take was £1.50, not great. The whole thing felt flatter than a relief map of the Maldives despite a local valuer doing a type of Antiques Roadshow. We took along a tin dated 1914 from my aunt who died a couple of years ago. The valuer recognised it immediately but was amazed to find the contents intact: a Christmas card from Princess Mary to the troops in the trenches, plus cigarettes and tobacco to help them along! Not sure what the cigarettes would be like now and I'm not about to try. Value was £50-70. Mum, who's suffered with Multiple Sclerosis for 35 years (I remember her using a stick when I was at school) and has been wheelchair bound since 1984, the year we were married (she tried desperately hard to stand up that day, with great help from Claudie's dad, but it was so tough for her), has been in Elm Grove Nursing Home since dad died in 2003. At 85 she is doing well, but I really feel for her as every time she makes a new friend, they invariably die. Another one expired this week at the grand age of 98, mum having befriended her over recent months and made her very contented at the end. Reminds me of some lyrics from The Doors:

"This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end"

There is no finish line

2009-09-16T20:06:00.004+01:00

The finish line was in sight on Westminster Bridge. The Japanese, Hiromi Tanaguchi, was poised to run sub 2.10 in the 1987 London Marathon, with my Ranelagh clubmate Hugh Jones just a few seconds back, yet with 200 yards to go I was still ahead of them both. It had been a long tortuous road that Sunday morning 22 years ago, particularly on the cobbles at Tower Bridge … particularly driving the lead vehicle, a milk float! Of course, I didn’t win. Just before the bridge I was guided into a pre-arranged parking spot from where I got a great view of the race finish.

I’m currently not allowed to run at all so have been doing some very gentle cycling on an exercise bike at home. It is about as exciting as counting paperclips, so over the last week I have cycled whilst watching the 1987 London on video, it’s the only record I have of any of the Londons but makes great viewing.

Some things never change, like the music and the dubious quality of Brendan Foster’s commentary (although he managed to go 26 miles without mentioning Paula Radcliffe’s name (she’d have been just 13 then so not a surprise)). Some things immediately struck me however: there were no East Africans running and although the quality at the front of the ladies race was very good – Ingrid Kristiansen attempting to break 2:20, three Brits under 2:30 – when the camera panned through the masses they were nearly all men.

The commentary (David Coleman, Ron Pickering plus the ubiquitous Foster) and the graphics were poor, the latter looked like they came from another age, which in computer terms, I suppose, they did. The commentators weren’t helped by the lack of information on times but their lack of awareness made you really appreciate Crammy.

The race was good to watch. Grenville Tuck did some pacemaking before a pack of about 10 broke away. Hugh, resplendent in his Ranelagh vest, tended to be at the front, pushing hard as was his wont. With no cloned & sponsored East Africans all wearing the same vest as invariably happens today, it was great to see club vests & national vests from all over the world: Japan, Italy, Norway, Turkey, Morocco, USA as well as the UK. Taniguchi eventually pulled away through the tower cobbles and held on from a Moroccan who just outsprinted Jones. That gave Hugh a full set of medals, having won in 1982 (still Ranelagh’s club record, 2.09.24!) and finished second in 1986.

Kristiansen, who held the world record of 2.21.06 at the time (London 1985) was surrounded by minders in the early miles – the elite women used to start with everybody else in those days, which was tough for me the year I drove the lead vehicle in front of the women’s race as I had to weave around lots of men – and they dragged her through too fast, thoroughly confusing the commentators. Foster switched between lauding what a fantastic runner she was going at 2.17 pace to how, later on when she started suffering, how suicidal it was! Ron Pickering then uttered a great phrase: "take too much out of the bank early on and you go broke".

Although slowing dramatically, Kristiansen won easily enough in 2.22. Second home was another Ranelagh Harrier, Priscilla Welch who, at the age of 42, broke the UK record with 2.26.50. Proof, if ever it were needed, that age is no barrier to running fast marathons. With sensible, organised and structured training over a period of time, it is amazing what times runners of all ages can attain. Welch had Mick Woods of Aldershot for company in the last mile or so. He is now one of the most successful coaches in the country, numbering Steph Twell amongst his athletes.

I spotted lots of old acquaintances in the race and it brought back great memories. I was very lucky to be running in that period as the depth in standard was so good. Seeing masses of runners coming down The Mall in the 2.15/2.20/2.30’s was evidence of that. It would be easy to say I wish I was running the times I did then in today’s weaker fields but the reality, of course, is that I wouldn’t. The only reason I ran at a decent pace was because everybody around me was doing the same. I just wish I could get across to today’s runners that most don’t understand the sort of times they are capable of. Watching the video – available to anyone interested – should make it all apparent. Just ask otherwise ...

Some statistics: my lunchtime training partner in those days, Bill Harvey, was 158th in 2.29.43 (he was a V45 then), this year only 54 broke 2:30 of whom 11 were elite Africans under 2.10. There were 600 under 2.40 in 1987 and only 175 this year. Most amazingly of all, the roads of London were reopened to traffic 4½ hours into the race, in 2009 that would represent barely half the finishers!

PS On a different tack, my darling daughter is settling well in Paris and has decided to write a Blog about her time there, so if at all interested have a look on http://www.natzinparis.blogspot.com/

Osteitis, food, wine & birthdays

2009-09-08T19:03:00.008+01:00

Four weeks of no running and I am now considerably lighter in the wallet but heavier in the stomach. Two visits to Dr Rod Jaques, Head of Medical Services at the English Institute of Sport and well known to many Cirencester athletes, plus an MRI scan in Cheltenham, have confirmed the diagnosis of Osteitis Pubis. At least I got presented with a cd of pornographic photos after the MRI, one of which is reproduced here. It clearly shows fluid (white bits) on both sides of the pubic bone, thus causing inflammation on the pubic symphysis joint holding the bone together. Wear and tear - yes I know, I'm getting old - plus weak abdominal and adductor muscles have led to this state of affairs which will keep me off games for a number of months.
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None of this surprises me as there has been such a long lead in to it; the abdomen pain first manifesting itself in early July. I'm pretty sanguine about it all as life goes on. I had far worse news on a different level last Friday, running is just a recreation. As Sophocles stated, we runners live on "the razor's edge of luck" (thanks Mucky Knees, are you down in Ciren later this month by the way?) and I've sliced off a bit too much. At 52 and with a World Champs to run in, I don't regret having pushed hard as I don't know how many more chances I'll get. That attitude is also relevant at much younger ages: make hay whilst the sun shines. It is far easier to train hard with a young body but also without the constraints of work pressures, family etc. So you 20 somethings, don't talk about training hard 'in a few years', get out there now and go for it.

It does frustrate me somewhat that having initially seen my GP a couple of times to ensure that my abdominal pains were nothing more sinister, and getting the all clear on that front, the NHS then washes its hands of the situation and passes me onto the private sector. All the State propaganda propogates an active healthy lifestyle, running being one of the main ways to express this, yet when health issues arise the State isn't interested. Maybe I should take up smoking, at least I'll get free treatment when the inevitable happens.

Last week didn't help my non-running physique. With Natalie off to Paris to work for a year we had a couple of big special meals with her; we then had friends from Germany staying for two nights, one a big meal with lots to drink at home, the other a large and excellent curry in town. Finally on Saturday we went to a 60th birthday party at friends in Surrey. There were 16 of us and every couple provided a course. Lunch started at 2pm, after the obligatory glass of champagne, and went on well into the evening. Our host, Paul, has the finest wine cellar I know and we did our best to help him drown his sorrows - it was his birthday and 60 has hit him hard.

With Messrs Edelsten & Curry both hitting 65 this month and occasional golfing partner Dave Cowell just turned 60, I'm almost feeling young at 52 despite all my aches & pains.

Finally, best wishes to Cirencester's club captain, Adrian Williams, in the Berlin Marathon next Sunday. He's had a few problems in his build-up - turning up for a race a week early; going off course in Milton Keynes ½ Marathon; turning his ankle whilst warming down from a session; travelling too much for work (only himself to blame as it's his own company and he makes far too much money!) and hurting his back after camping for a week with his family. A London Marathon AAA qualifying time would be pretty impressive after all that and should be easily achieved, as long as he doesn't fall down the aircraft steps in Berlin. Good luck matey, you deserve it.

World Masters

2009-08-25T21:49:00.007+01:00

Now back from a great trip to Finland & Russia so should write something about what was a fantastic experience running in the World Masters Championships in Lahti, about 100km north of Helsinki. This is a truly massive event lasting two weeks and encompassing all the track & field disciplines. But unlike the true World Athletics Champs just finished in Berlin - what a great games they were, tough for London to emulate - every event had multi races to cope with each five year age group from 35 to 100+. Just look at the results on the official website, they go on forever: http://www.english.wma2009.org/ The competitors handbook, which listed all 5,500 entrants from 90 countries was a mighty tome indeed. These championships, which have been going for about 35 years I think, have become great meeting places for veteran athletes all over the world. They compete, eat & drink together, party and generally have a fantastic time before reconvening at the next global games two years later. The friendly atmosphere was very easy to perceive. Claudie & I managed to take in some of the track & field the day before the marathon, when I picked up my number, and also after my race when all the relays were taking place. Despite staying out of town we met up, chatted to and swopped contact details with athletes from America, Italy & France as well as Bourton, slightly closer to home (but more of that anon). Any of you veterans out there, put Sacramento, California in your diary for July 2011 and enter the next World Champs!

There were about 800 runners in the marathon (picture shows the start). It was run on a two lap course with a few undulations near the end of the lap but otherwise pretty flat. There were quite a few twists & turns, including a lot of clambering up and down kerbs, and the course followed the shores of a big lake for a few miles on a fairly rough & loose surface. It was hot! The race started at 9am; there wasn't a cloud in the sky. There was no shade on the course and the lakeside running had the added burden of a reflected sun beating down on the runners. Still, it was August, what more does one expect? To keep out of the sun before the race, I found a computer and checked out the Ashes scorecard from Headingly ... England all out 102!

Once I got over my usual abdominal pains and associated stiff adductors in the first km, I soon settled into a good pace of 3.55 per km (2.45 pace). I very quickly met up with Pauline Curley, a well known current senior Irish international runner - I'd spotted her in the entry list and commented to Claudie that she may be a good marker to look out for, always difficult in a foreign race when you don't know anybody else. Pauline seemed really happy to hook up with me and she asked if it was ok for the two of us to run together for a while as she was looking for some help / reassurance as to pace. Her best is 2.39 and she was looking to run in the low 2.40's but was not sounding confident. We got into a good rhythm and chatted quite a lot; being the first woman (by a long way) whenever we encountered big crowds she got a big cheer (have you noticed also that wherever you are in the world you'll always find an Irish bar and lots of Irish people - Finland was no different, but I digress) and that delivered adrenelin resulting in a surge in her pace. I warned her to be careful and control her pace which she did. She was constantly asking if the pace was ok. My legs were feeling ok but every time my right leg hit the tarmac I felt a stab in my abdomen with the kerbs just accentuating the problem. We ran the first lap sensibly, allowing surging runners to move through but also gradually reeling in some fast starters. It was great seeing everyone in their national kit and it was fun looking at ages of runners from the numbers pinned on the back of their vests.

Pauline had a friend on a bike who appeared regularly and Tony Spedding from Bourton, out with his wife Lynn supporting Dennis Walmsley's effort, also made an effort to cycle back, give me support and log my position, which was greatly appreciated. At 16km, by which time a Venezuelan V45 had joined our small group, we caught a larger group of about a dozen runners including four V50's, three Italians and a Spaniard. A km later Tony called out that he had good news and bad news: I was now 4th but there were four other V50's on my shoulder. Strange humour these Bourton people! Halfway was spot on plan at 1.22.30 with Claudie telling me that the third placed runner was a minute ahead (she later told me the gap was much larger but she wanted to make me feel positive).

The three of us then kicked on, leaving my rivals well behind, with the 5km to 25km my fastest of the race - not the most intelligent thing to do but I'd locked into the pace with the others and it seemed the way to go. Inevitably I tired (and ached!) and I let my partners move on with some final words of encouragement to Pauline. My spirits lifted shortly after as I caught and passed the third placed runner to move into a medal position. I held this through to 35km, by which time I was still on 2.45 pace. But I knew it was all over. The last 7km was purgatory; I was reduced to a shuffle but knew I couldn't stop and walk because my abdomen would seize up and I'd have to give up. Managed to raise a decent pace for the last km but it had been so frustrating watching a United Nations of runners edge past me, including some with V50 numbers.

The V50 winner was a Belgian guy in 2.39 (his current best being 2.29), with silver running 2.46 and bronze 2.48. I ran the race with one goal in mind, a medal, and suffered accordingly at the end. I probably made a few mistakes - coaching Pauline round being one, I can't help trying to help others; she was over the moon, winning in 2.43 - but the real problems were the heat; my impaired preparation in the last few weeks because of my abdomen, and the lack of sufficient fluid out on the course. This was my only criticism of a great event. My 5km splits were: 19.12, 19.22, 19.47, 19.45, 18.59, 19.36, 20.56 to 35km. Do the maths if you want the painful truth about the last 7km! A week before the race I had serious doubts as to whether I could start so I had to be happy with the result despite the frustrations. And perhaps, just perhaps, it will inspire me to target more European & World Masters events. Or should I just listen to what's happening to me and retire gracefully, no more races ... ? This is the conundrum.

Can't finish on the race without mentioning Bourton's very own Dennis Walmsley. He ran a superb race to win the V45 age group with a 2.33 clocking. To avoid running in a vacuum he bravely went out with a pack running at 2.28 pace and was strong enough to hold on in the second half for a momentous victory. We waited around afterwards to see his medal ceremony and listen to the national anthem - stirring stuff. We also caught up with Dennis and his lovely wife Lucy a few days later in Helsinki where we celebrated his win with a fine meal.

We stayed in Heinola, another half hour north of Lahti and famous for being the home of the World Sauna Championships, which just happened to be taking place on the same day as my marathon. After the race we went back, had a few beers and a big meal and watched the semi-finals amid a great party atmosphere - Finnish heavy rock band Eternal Erection (there’s a name, DH) provided the alternative entertainment - as barbeques, heavy drinking and raucous cheering echoed through the late evening twilight. It was quite hilarious: half a dozen fat blokes would enter what looked like a garden centre shed on the stage vacated by aforementioned rock band, then sit in the "sauna" as long as possible as the heat was cranked up. Last one left won, simple really. Perhaps this could be my new vocation – not sure whether it’s professional and there’s a ‘circuit’ - although I think I may need to bulk up marginally from looking at the competition. A report of the championships even appeared in the UK press: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/6001375/Finland-takes-gold-in-World-Sauna-Championships.html

Well at least I tried

2009-08-11T08:50:00.003+01:00

World Champs a great occasion but result for me was bad. A combination of 30 degree heat and continued abdomen pain meant that 42km was too far on the day. Got up to 3rd after 25km but then went backwards. Should have finished 2nd. Longer report to follow when back from Russia. Holiday going great - definitely holiday weather not marathon weather!

Difficult decision

2009-08-04T21:25:00.008+01:00

Still reeling from the awful news of Stephen's death last week. And as I feared, we won't be able to attend his funeral on Tuesday as we'll be away in Finland & Russia. I'm a bit down with that but there was no choice in the matter. I just feel that I want to formally pay my respects to a dear friend so we'll have a quiet moment at the time of the funeral.

Now in the throes of getting organised for our northern odyssey. Claudie and I are off to Finland tomorrow (Thursday). The World Masters Athletics Championships are being held in Lahti, about 100km north of Helsinki and I have rather stupidly entered the marathon which takes place on Saturday, the last day of the championships. This is a big event with athletes from all over the world competing in all age groups from 35 to 100 and is held bi-annually - Sacramento in California in 2011 for anyone interested!

The question is, should I run? I've put in the training, with lots of consistent mileage and plenty of long runs, but the last month has been dogged by a progressive pain in my abdomen which is still to be fully diagnosed. I have been told by my doctor and physio that I won't do myself any permanent damage by running so it's a question of whether the pain threshold is bearable. Of course it may mask the pain of running 26.2 miles in which case I should run well! All logic and common sense dictates that I should stand on the sidelines and watch the race but ... The course is two laps so I'll probably start - at least I'll get to wear my GB vest and run in a world champs - then see how I'm doing at halfway. If I look really bad - nothing new there - then Claudie will probably drag me off the course anyway!

We have a week or so in Finland, initially staying in a lakeside resort, then Helsinki, before taking the 5½ hour train journey into Russia and St Petersburg for a few days. Should be interesting.

My last race before the marathon was for Ranelagh in the Elmbridge 10km on a delightful course by the River Thames at Walton (see picture at 9km). Despite initial pain problems, I soon got into a good rhythm and sustained sub 3:30 k's throughout to achieve my best non-Bourton 10km time for 16 years. I even managed to beat all the V40's which was nice. The fitness is there but is the body willing?

Dr Stephen Instone

2009-07-29T20:17:00.008+01:00

We lost a dear friend last weekend. Stephen Instone, Natalie's godfather and a close friend of the family for over 30 years, drowned whilst on holiday in Switzerland with his family. Full details are still awaited but it is hard to comprehend this tragic news. He was 54 and leaves behind his lovely wife Shelley plus Florence & Arthur who are, I'd estimate, aged 10 and 8. I just want to write a few words now whilst I think of them.

Stephen joined Ranelagh at about the same time as me, in the mid 70's. When I first knew him he was at Oxford University where he spent many years, ultimately gaining a PhD in Classics. Despite his high intellect you couldn't find a more down to earth character and as another friend, Ian Milne, has stated this week, everyone had a soft spot for Stephen. He favoured the longer distances, running numerous marathons all over the world on the back of regular training laps of Richmond Park. His best time would have been in the 2.30's. I remember him being very chuffed to receive a winner's medal - in the days when medals meant something - for being part of Ranelagh's winning team in the Hanwell '5' one year: Ranelagh had a stream of quality Australian internationals running for the club for a number of years and in this race they finished 1st, 2nd & 3rd; Stephen was somewhat further down the field but the medal was won! His running career was blighted somewhat by a badly broken leg in his mid 20's - he fell off a ladder whilst clearing some ivy from his mother's house on Barnes common - although such was his spirit that within a week or so of the accident he was "running" seven mile laps of the park with his leg in plaster and using crutches!

Claudie and I shared some great trips with Stephen; I particularly remember a bleak Poland in 1987 (Claudie was pregnant), where we had guns pointed at us, contrasting with the idyllic caribbean for the Run Barbados races. There were many other trips; he was forever travelling, spending a few months in Kunming, China, training with Hugh Jones and Alan Storey, as well as working out in America for a time.

After working as a journalist for a while, Stephen eventually settled as a research fellow at University College London and had numerous works published. He also regularly turned up on radio & tv esposing his specialist knowledge on an unsuspecting public. A couple of these broadcasts will never be forgotten. The BBC picked up on the fact that Stephen wanted to experiment to see whether the elite athletes of the ancient Olympics had an advantage because they ran naked. He went up to Loughborough and raced against some students, Stephen playing the part of the ancient athlete. As he stated, "they all had lycra on, while I had to run unencumbered". On another occasion he re-enacted men running in full armour, this time in London's Regents Park. He put a saucepan on his head and used a dustbin lid as a shield. I still have the cassette of this absolute classic of a broadcast. Stephen could always laugh at himself but was, of course, also educating at the same time.

Yes, he was quite an eccentric - most runners are - yet he was such a genuine friend who would do anything to help. He was overjoyed when we asked him to be Natalie's godfather. He never forgot a birthday; took a great interest in her development and loved chatting to her about any subject. I spoke to him a few weeks ago and he was so pleased at Natalie's results from Exeter and to hear of her plans for the next two years. I sent him an e-mail last Saturday with a picture from Natalie's graduation; sadly he would not have received it.

Stephen was a devoted family man and spent hours playing all sports with Florence & Arthur. Our thoughts are with Shelley and the children at this dreadful time in their lives.

Stephen, you were a wonderful friend to the Wright family. Rest in peace.

Proud parents

2009-07-25T11:07:00.006+01:00

Although this is a running blog, I can't let events of this week go by without mention. On Tuesday Natalie graduated from Exeter University with a 2:1 BA in French & Italian. Whilst the ceremony itself dragged on a bit - there's only so much excitement generated by numerous students lining up to collect their degrees - it was made a bit more colourful by the university's Chancellor, children's tv personality Floella Benjamin. She certainly brightened up the stage which was otherwise filled with crusty old academics.

For Claudie and me it was an incredibly proud day and one we will never forget. We stayed overnight - in university halls - and had a great night out with Natalie's three housemates and their parents. With an afternoon reception in the languages department it was, all in all, quite a day.

A few days earlier I sat through a roller coaster afternoon of golf on tv as 59 year old Tom Watson almost won the Open (I was incapable of doing anything else having endured 2h 50m running on a three mile grass circuit - to protect my legs - in pain and in heavy rain in the morning). A lot has been written about how wonderful it was to see someone of that age competing at the top. Having watched it and subsequently thought about it, I have a different view.

Firstly, the world's top golfers must collectively be ruing an opportunity missed. With Tiger Woods missing the cut, there was an opening for someone to make a mark but on the final afternoon they all fell away and became as anonymous as graffiti artist Banksy. Meanwhile Watson looked like a weekend golfer enjoying the monthly medal in what were not difficult conditions. It seems to me that had Woods made the cut, he would probably have won the tournament by half a dozen shots. That doesn't say a lot for the rest of the field.

Watson missed the final putt to win the tournament and suddenly looked his age. The play off was embarrassing for all and pretty difficult for eventual winner, Stewart Cink. Everyone wanted Watson to win, including Cink he said afterwards! It also summed up why sport at the top level should be about the young and not oldies hanging in there for one more moment of glory before going out to pasture.

This has made me think about my own situation. My running has gone well in the last year but it's only a last hurrah and in many ways is quite pathetic. I think it's probably time to stand aside and retire gracefully rather than push my body hard, beyond limits. I'm only doing well because standards have fallen so much. I wish the younger generation who run would grasp hold of this and realise there is a real opportunity to make a mark in the sport. Hell, if I can do it at my age what could someone with a functioning body do if they had belief in their abilities?

The Bourton Mile last Saturday highlighted the age barriers. It took me the first quarter mile to actually get going - my abdomen pains restricting movement through searing pain during that time - then I was flying along for a while, picking off all the fast starters. In the final quarter I was running against two youngsters whose combined age was nearly 20 years less than mine. They kept sprinting for short periods, then fading, whilst I sustained my pace (I never could change gear) and kept catching them. Inevitably, they had one final sprint to beat me.

A strange day out in London

2009-07-14T13:22:00.005+01:00

I'd heard that the British 10km was quite an experience but nothing prepared me for the day's events as they unfolded. An early start got me to a convenient parking spot just behind Liz's house off the Mall by 7.30. Everything was strangely quiet walking across the front of Buck House and up through Green Park, part of my old training route when I worked in London. Having blagged myself a free / elite entry (don't ask, long story!) I registered at the Hard Rock Café near Hyde Park Corner where I was handed elite No. 11 (no pressure then ...). Sat there for an hour watching the real runners go through their pre-race preparation, including luminaries such as Olympic Marathon Champion, Constantina Dita and World Marathon Champion, Catherine Nderaba. I was more interested in looking at the memorabilia on the walls of this famous venue and thinking how different the place must have looked just a few hours earlier with Saturday night's revellers. Chatted to a couple of people then ran up Park Lane to Marble Arch on an uncomfortable warm-up (adductor / abdomen sore, more later). Had to scream blue murder when a job's worth security man wouldn't let me back into the Café (I know, I don't exactly exude elite runner status!). Eventually we were ushered to the start where the enormity of the event started to unfold. Jogged down the first half mile of the course to do a few strides and on the other side of the road, facing up towards the start, were wall to wall runners, thousands of them penned in like sheep!

After interminable speeches by the Lord Mayor and others; a token lighting of the Olympic torch; some fanfares from the military buglers and three (yes three) renditions of God Save the Queen, the race started. Of course I'd stiffened up by then, my aforementioned problems restricting me badly, so the kamikazee starters streamed by. The noise was deafening from the waiting competitors on the other side of the road and this continued all the way to Piccadilly, down Pall Mall and into Trafalgar Square before we reached the end of the snake. Eventually got into my stride and by the time I reached Embankment at about 3km I was going well. Continued to pick off runners coming off the back of the dwindling pack holding the three lead women (an Italian being the third), although after a u-turn just before halfway I was very much on my own. The next stretch is familiar to all who watch the London Marathon as the course emerged from a subway and along the Embankment towards Westminster Bridge - this stretch was straight into a strong wind (I always tell people that the marathon course is into the prevailing wind for long stretches so isn't that fast) and I was running in splendid isolation, apart, that was, from the thousands streaming along in the other direction. The whole thing was made even more surreal by the fact that I was rapidly closing down a solitary runner, namely Olympic champion Dita! Over Westminster Bridge, another u-turn and back over the bridge to Big Ben, around the permanent demonstrators in Parliament Square (they seemed pleased to have something to see for a change), up Victoria Road, yet another u-turn and we finished running past Downing Street in Whitehall. Couldn't quite catch Dita (34.31) but pretty happy with my time of 34.37 as it was my fastest non-Bourton 10km for 14 years (for non-Glos readers, Bourton is reknowned as being very "fast"). Also pleased to beat Ranelagh's Jonathan Stacey after he got the better of me at the Ranelagh ½ in May.

Picked up my gear (from the elite spot just yards from the finish, I could easily get used to this treatment!) and walked up to Trafalgar Square towards my car. I was astonished to see thousands of runners streaming through the 1km point with plenty more still waiting to cross the start line. It has to be said therefore that in finishing 12th out of 27,000 it was a slightly uneven contest! I sat and watched for a couple of minutes as I changed out of my race gear then strolled back to my car - Buck House & The Mall now heaving with tourists in contrast to much earlier - with ominous pains percolating through my body. Dropped my gear into the car and tried to do a warm down: I was in agony, my adductor had seized up and the pain in my abdomen was searing. I was doubled up; I know Ron Hill would have managed to hobble a couple of miles in this state but not me. Was home by 12:30 and wondered how many poor souls were still out on the course.

Postscript: with marathon training in full flow, at least in theory, I'd taken Monday off work to do my long run. So despite a bad night, out I went for a 22 miler, thankfully with Natalie and her friend Alice coming along for the ride on their bikes. Have subsequently seen the doc (already being treated for the adductor problem by the lovely Helen Hall in Fairford, highly recommended) and am waiting on blood tests to see what the problem is and whether Finland is viable.

The Ashes are back

2009-07-07T12:50:00.004+01:00

By Evie Jones (Lakeside Primary School)

The wizards of Oz are coming to Wales,
The best team with a bat,
We’ve built a brand new stadium for them
With a view of the Taff – Howzat!

The Roos bring their Ashes,
With their pads and bats and caps,
But they’re playing in Wales, not England,
So they better pack some maps.

The strange thing about cricket
Is that they stop for tea and scones,
But we’ll serve them Welsh cakes and laver bread,
And large portions of the fast bowler Simon Jones.

The Aussies will pour over the border
To our land of song and hills,
But the Barmy Army will beat them
With weapons of golden daffodils.

All the players will dress in white,
And cover their faces in zinc war paint
Whereas the crowd will bring anoraks and sweaters,
And at the sight of the sun in Wales, they’ll faint!

---

I don't have Sky - life's too short to spend hours watching my favourite sports on tv, especially as they are all endurance based: cricket (5 days), golf (4 days), marathon running etc. But it is so frustrating at times like this; the evening highlights are a waste of space as they can't encapsulate the chess match ebb & flow of a quality Test with all the nuances developing as the game goes on. I'll just have to rely on Aggers and the TMS team to bring the games alive in my ears and allow me to picture the view in my mind. This will be difficult for the first match in the unlikely surroundings of Cardiff (money talks more than tradition in modern sport unfortunately). It all reminds me of the 1970/71 winter when I used to listen to the radio commentary from Australia late at night as Ray Illingworth's team beat the Australians over there in a magnificent series.

At the end of last week's heatwave I had a pleasant workout in the Aerospace '5' near Cheltenham on a tough course which climbed up towards Cleeve Hill. Felt I needed to wear a race number again despite struggling with an adductor strain and other problems that a family Blog like this wouldn't want to know about. Started very slowly as planned then picked up pace in second half as I like to treat these evening races (especially when as hot as its been) as good tempo runs. Splits were 6.07, 5.50, then avg 5.30 for the rest. Nearly caught Mike Smith on the line but as he got thrashed by a 50 year old in Bourton's half marathon the previous week, thought I'd spare him any more embarrassement. Claudie came along and there was some good social with some newer Ciren members as well as a good chat with Dennis & Lucy Walmsley ahead of Finland next month (it appears it's impossible to run anywhere in the world and not find a Bourton runner in the same race).

Great news from Natalie. She got her 2:1 from Exeter; her next two years are now mapped out for her (and for dad's bank balance!) in two more of Europe's capital cities. What a great life she is having.

Passing ships in the night

2009-06-30T12:50:00.004+01:00

A bit morbid this week but for good reasons. We all think of ourselves as indestructible, especially when young, with a lot of bravado about running vast distances, drinking masses of beer, driving fast and sundry other stupid escapades. When you get as old as me you start to see things differently - albeit I am a mere spring chicken compared to the remarkable Fred Robson, about whom more later - your outlook starts to change when you see what goes on around you.

There was an article in Ranelagh Harriers' newsletter last week that should be pasted up on every club noticeboard in the country. I will try to précis it here but look it up under News (newsletter no. 309) on Ranelagh's website for the full version. A regular club runner aged 35 from Leeds was down in London for a few days and went out for an easy four mile run. He collapsed and died during the run. He had no identification on him so the authorities couldn't contact anybody. Given the vast expanses of our wonderful Cirencester Park (4,000 acres?) and beyond to run in, where we enjoy idyllic isolation, can you imagine how bad things could get here? There are identification gadgets that can be attached to running shoes and it is clearly important to tell people where you are going to run. Since my heart scare last summer and continued associated problems, I always try to tell Claudie my running route and I now always fill in the personal details requested on the back of lots of race numbers, something I used to mock when they first appeared.

I have known of a few deaths associated with running over the years; in most cases the informed opinion has been that running actually deferred the ultimate finishing line although try telling that to the families of the handful of people who all died on the same day in the Gt North Run a few years ago. The recognised creator of the jogging boom in America, James Fixx, died whilst out running aged 52, the ultimate irony given his preaching about the healthy nature of such an activity. My very, very good friend from Australia, George Thomas, died aged 41 whilst driving home from a 10k race. He was my mentor whilst he lived in London in the late 70's and drummed into me how to get regular training lodged into my daily lifestyle.

We are now enjoying / enduring a bit of a heatwave. Great you say, a decent summer at last. I agree and like nothing better than getting out for a run with the freedom of just wearing shorts (I know, with a body like mine I should be covering up to protect the population at large, as my darling daughter Natalie told me the other day!). But the heat brings its own problems. In 2003 there was a lot of publicity about how many elderly people died in France in the heatwave that year; a number of younger people perished on an organised long distance walk in Holland as well, yet there was precious little about the effect it had in the UK. I know though because my dad was one such statistic, dying in his sleep after the hottest day of the year. We must respect weather extremes and not think we are indestructible. Take wise precautions; if doing a long run try to go out early and even drop some water off in advance at points around the course.

Two brighter matters on which to finish. I alluded earlier to 78 year old Fred Robson. He was running marathons 10 years before even I was born and he was out in Finland last weekend doing another one despite 30ºC temperatures (careful Fred!). Picture shows him having a massage after the race. He has a wonderful attitude to life and to running. I look forward to buying him a celebratory half pint of Guinness when he next appears at the pub - what a wonderful man.

Finally, can't let my reader(s) go without mentioning our esteemed club captain Adrian Williams. He missed club training last Tuesday so that he could post a decent 5km time at a race down near Bristol, a round trip of about 60 miles (I think he was actually just trying to get out of attending the club committee meeting personally), as a barometer on how his Berlin Marathon training is going. Just one problem: he got the wrong date, there was no race!

Enjoy the sunshine.

A step back in time

2009-06-15T17:10:00.004+01:00

In the good old days, summer lasted from May to September with endless hot, sunny days; village greens sporting cricketers clad in all white gently playing forward defensive shots for hours on end; village fêtes with maypoles, strawberries and cream and WI home made cakes, and running races always starting at 3pm on Saturday afternoons. Well, on Saturday I was able to witness three of these things - cricket being the exception as it has changed somewhat; the commentators were bemoaning the WI run rate falling below nine an over for example, what on earth would Geoff Boycott make of that?
The Broad Town 5 is a lovely little race and has been going 26 years. Start & finish is in a tiny school playing field where the annual fête attracts a lot of interest for what is only a small village (not sure why it's called a town). We parked in an adjoining field where the grass grew higher than my little MG, which as a consequence was camouflaged and thus difficult to find after the race. I was surprised to find four female teammates at the race, mother & daughter Thomas plus itinerant travellers "if there is an obscure race we'll find it" Jane Stevens & Christina See. In fact the overall turnout was excellent with over 200 finishers swelling the coffers of whatever school fund / good cause the fête was raising money for.
I enjoyed most of the race if only for the fact that I was leading for 3½ miles - it's a long time since I've been that close to the lead vehicle. Aim was for a good tempo run to supplement my current heavy marathon training so I wanted to ensure a good pace. By two miles (10:35) I only had Gary O'Brien for company and he allowed me to do all the work which I didn't mind. I maintained a good pace and felt strong despite the hot conditions (3m in 15:59) ... until the big hill just before four miles. In the foothills of this mountain (which ultimately led onto the Ridgeway way above us, although we turned off before reaching the top), O'Brien eased alongside me and then as it became steeper he edged ahead. I was a beaten man and fell away like a Rich Tea biscuit in a freshly made cup of tea. I "ran" the fourth mile in 5:51 before thankfully regaining some composure on the flat and ultimately downhill finish with a final 5:35 and an excellent second overall which Claudie missed as she was watching the dog show!
My day was made when I met up with a couple of acquaintances from many, many years ago, Dennis Williams & Ian Isherwood from Hercules Wimbledon running club. They'd done this race once a long time ago and fancied a weekend away with a Saturday afternoon race, no doubt to be followed by a few glasses in a local hostelry. We spent quite some time reminiscing about old times and mutual friends. Great fun.
A couple of drinks Saturday evening then a long run (2h 15m) Sunday morning completed a really good old fashioned running weekend.

PS For ease of reference, the first WI referred to in the narrative is Womens Institute, the second West Indies. Hope that sorts out any confusion.

Contrasting 10km races

2009-06-09T12:04:00.005+01:00

I've attended two 10km races in the last two days, one as a competitor and one as a marshal. The contrasts between the two were dramatic.

The Fairford Festival 10km, as the name implies, is run as part of a weekend of festivities in the town where I work. Both the festival and the race, plus associated 3km fun run, have been going for many years and have been highly successful. Unfortunately this year things changed. The organisers manifestly failed to market the race with no flyers distributed at other local races or to nearby clubs. As a consequence the race almost didn't go ahead because of lack of entries - this at a time when most races close entries early and have to turn people away. Of course this meant that Cirencester were able to clean up, we managed five of the top eight places and the only reason we didn't have the race winner was because Chris overslept, see his Blog for more! Jon Young's photo shows the beeming winning team of Adrian Williams, Chris Illman & me with the delightful Sharron Davies.

The next evening Cirencester promoted the Westonbirt Arboretum 10km, the course threading its way through the winding footpaths of this beautiful area near Tetbury & Highgrove. Entries closed weeks ago at 750 and organiser Dave Edelsten could easily have accepted double that number. As ever with Dave's organisation, everything went very smoothly; it was a spectacular sight seeing such large numbers spread throughout the grounds of the Arboretum. With a sapling tree for each finisher there was also a bit of novelty for all as well.

The Westonbirt results have been published this morning, just a few hours after the race finished. The Fairford results have also been published today but because the second finisher's time was not recorded all results are incorrect! Apparently the fun run results are even worse. If people pay out £8-10 for a 10km race they expect decent organisation. At Westonbirt they got it, at Fairford they didn't.

The longest run

2009-05-28T12:53:00.005+01:00

Had planned to run the White Horse 5 on bank holiday Monday but the 11:30am start put me off as it impinged on good eating / drinking time in the midst of a heavy social weekend. It was partly coincidence and partly planned that so much social stuff happened all at once - just like the old 93 bus, you wait ages for one to come along then three come together.

So instead of dodging gypsies & collecting chocolate biscuits at Gloucester, it was off to the Thames Head for lunch with Claudie, my sister & mum. For any locals interested, the food at the TH is now superb. This followed dinner at Jesse Smiths in town on Saturday night and lunch in our garden on a glorious summer Sunday with friends from London.

Saturday's dinner, again high quality, was with Cathie & Dave who, remarkably, got married on the same day as us. We didn't know them then but they were only a few miles away: we married in Morden, south London and they tied the knot in Horsham, Sussex. Unfortunately, being relatively close meant we had the same weather ... it bucketed down all day, absolutely incessant it was. They say that's a good sign and I guess it was because all this waffle is leading to the fact that we celebrated our 25th anniversary on Tuesday! Champagne at home finished off our few sociable days perfectly. Shame Natalie couldn't join us but the poor girl is in the midst of her finals at Exeter Uni.

Of course I trained on our wedding day - my best man was a 30.17 10k runner so it wasn't a gentle plod - and I managed to get out twice on our anniversary. Not sure how many more years I'll be strapping on the trainers rather than slippers but I'll keep it going for as long as I can. As I've said before it's a lifestyle thing.

Thanks Claudie, you're a star for putting up with me all these years!

Relaxing by the Thames

2009-05-12T13:25:00.005+01:00

Thought I'd crucify my legs further with another half marathon back at my old stomping ground. The Richmond Half, organised by Ranelagh Harriers, takes in some wonderful settings and, as a consequence is very popular despite an 8.30am start. Living 100 miles away this meant Claudie & I staying overnight with old friends and that meant eating & drinking well. That's my first excuse.
The race started right outside the Ranelagh clubhouse, went over Richmond Bridge, then to Twickenham, Kingston and the magnificent Hampton Court, before returning along the (generally) tarmac towpath, over Kingston Bridge and back to Richmond. It was a beautiful warm, sunny day. My race was nondescript as I was isolated for nearly the whole race, just picking off a few fast starters, before I got into a nice little trio after 8 miles and we picked up the pace. My marathon, previous night's antics and continued health problems all kicked in over the last couple of miles and I was pretty weary by the end. David Rowe's picture shows race winner, Peter Tucker, bounding along. Great to meet up with old friends of course, including two we hadn't seen for a few years: Grenville Tuck and Ned Sullivan. Makes it all worthwhile.
During the previous evening and after the race, swopped lots of texts with my buddy from Rome, Gavin Jones, who decided to run the Prague Marathon. He'd run Rome in 2.48 in March, was aghast to hear that I'd run 2.47 in Scotland, so ran Prague at short notice ... in 2.46! He is a happy man but I shall return and sooner than most expect ...

London revisited

2009-05-04T11:17:00.010+01:00

It is many, many years since I did anything other than watch the London Marathon from the comfort of my armchair. I ran the first two editions in 1981 & 1982, drove the lead vehicle in a few subsequent years and even supervised the laying of the blue line marking the route one year (long story but involved starting at midnight and jogging alone through some pretty dodgy Dickensian type areas of the Surrey Docks at 3am with rabid dogs howling ...). I decided this year to go up and soak in the atmosphere whilst supporting Chris Illman in particular.
I arranged to meet up with a gang from Ranelagh who go up every year and therefore know the lie of the land and shortcuts etc., or so I thought ... I felt a bit guilty on the Docklands Light Railway being squeezed in amongst all the runners going to the start (leaving it a bit late I thought). It was very interesting observing them: a lot of jovial banter amongst those travelling together, some very pensive faces, ashen faced even (what other sport does that to you?) and others just constantly drinking as much fluid as possible - most of which would have been flushed out of their system before the start so would actually be a bit pointless.
Greenwich was heaving with spectators even though there was an hour before the elite women were due through and another 45 minutes until the masses. The plan was to watch at six miles then jog under the Thames using the Greenwich foot tunnel and watch again on the Isle of Dogs, this was the standard Ranelagh plan. As I was early I checked out the tunnel - blocked off! There was no chance of using the tunnel. So much for the Ranelagh experience & expertise.
Time at Greenwich wasn't wasted as I met up with Ray & Margaret Auerback, friends from Ranelagh who now live down in Devon. Margaret was a very good runner in her time, winning the Isle of Wight Marathon along with me in 1985, and it was interesting talking to Ray, who never professed to being anything other than a very average club runner - he was more interested in making money as a barrister - yet he ran 2.33.30 in London in the early '80's. Perception has changed so much since that time. In 1982 Ranelagh had 21 finishers under 2.50, including five under 2.30, led by race winner Hugh Jones in 2.09.24. Picture shows me with teammate Andy Ewers in the last mile, we both ran 2.25.48 (click on picture for larger image). Ranelagh was never seen as an elite club, or one that was particularly strong - Hugh obviously being the exception - yet we all trained together and accepted that these kind of times were normal. Oh that we could garner that feeling and competitiveness at Cirencester's sessions! Progress is being made but there is still a long way to go. I really believe the club can move forward en masse - Wendy, Jane & Chris have led by example - the improvements over the last couple of years are testament to that, witness greatly improved regional & national relay results and Ciren depth in most local road races. Positive thinking and belief are so important as is team spirit. Club captain Adrian Williams is superbly capturing the latter and will hopefully drive the club forward. Whether I will be part of that only time will tell, I hope that I can be of help. Perhaps I will take a back seat and watch it happen.
Anyway, I digress, back to the race. First sight of the runners was the rather incongruous one of a handful of elite women. Only about a dozen started whilst 35,000 waited another 45 minutes, and I found it rather sad to see the current Olympic champion, Constantina Dita, already tailed off last of the dozen (clearly at the race to cash in on her champion status). Soon enough the main race came through led by a phalanx of rapid Africans - TV doesn't give a true perspective on the pace these guys run. They are rapid! Chris followed soon after, worringly earlier than planned but given the downhill nature of the first few miles, slightly understandable.
I then fought through the masses to get to Greenwich station, leaving my Ranelagh friends behind, and the DLR train across to the IoD, managing to see the runners again at 25km (15½ miles) where Chris was looking pretty good, and again at Canary Wharf at 19 miles amongst heaving crowds (not looking so good!). Underground to Waterloo and a bit of pace across Hungerford Bridge got me to the 40km marker where I met up with my very good Dutch friend Alex Halter, over with a tour group from Holland. I was too late for the leaders here but saw Chris go through and walked with Alex to the finish. Tony Curry then rang me from his spot helping at the finish line to say that Chris had finished; he was somewhat aghast to hear that I was only 400 metres away when he thought I was in Cirencester!
Caught up with Chris afterwards. Although disappointed, having got his pace wrong, he was quite sanquine about things as he lugged the biggest rucksack ever seen from the finishing funnel to his waiting parents. This was a stepping stone for him and he'll be stronger for it going forward. Ranked 2nd in the marathon at U23 level he knows there are opportunities ahead to make a real impression at the highest level. Quite ironic though that he was only 30 seconds faster than my afore-mentioned friend Ray. Also had a chat with Adam Harborow, who must have been the only runner in the race holding himself back in the last few miles: his sole aim was to get the three hour monkey off his back and he didn't want to seize up, so he paced himself perfectly. Look for a sub 2.50 next year from Adam.
Don't know about the guys who ran the race but I was exhausted; lots of short, fast running bursts throughout the morning interspersed with regular text messages to/from interested parties: Rupert Chesmore, out on the course supporting Liza, the Ranelagh gang, Claudie, Natalie, Wendy, Alex and others. An exhilarating morning, thoroughly enjoyable, but perhaps next year I'll have my feet up in front of the TV again.

The joys of marathoning revisited.

2009-04-21T12:51:00.008+01:00

I woke with intense cramp in my right calf and didn't know what to do with myself. It is many years since I've had this sensation, probably when I last ran a marathon in 1995 (the one before that was in 1985). Oh, the joys of marathon running. Only this happened on Saturday morning in our delightful Guest House in Oban on the way up to Fort William and therefore before the marathon! Had I been dreaming about the race? Don't think so and if I had it would have been a nightmare not a dream. What was I letting myself in for after two months of bad health manifesting itself in many different and dispiriting ways? At least Claudie and I had already enjoyed a few days in delightful warm sunshine as a prelude to the race, initially visiting my favourite cousin in Perth, then meeting for the first time in my life a cousin of my mum's in Oban, interspersing all this with touring in some of the most wonderful scenery in the world. So the flights, car hire, accommodation all booked up when I entered the race weren't totally wasted.

I chose this marathon some months ago for a number of reasons: I felt to urge to revisit my former favourite distance, especially having rediscovered some form in recent months; I didn't want to do a big race like London or a foreign city race as I felt low key was the best way back; I figured that a top 10 place was there for the taking, and I really fancied a short break in Scotland. This race, which has been going for 26 years, appealed especially because as well as the backdrop of Ben Nevis and, ironically, the lure of a relatively flat course, it tracked the banks of Loch Eil, which has a special affinity to my family. My mum's maiden name is Cameron and she came from the Clan Cameron of Loch Eil, so it really just had to be done.
First impressions when collecting my number in Fort William was how this race is the absolutely perfect antidote to the brash commercialism of the London Marathon. 500 entrants, no stands selling shoes, very little publicity, just a good, well organised old fashioned race starting and finishing on a shinty pitch (watched a match the day before the race, it makes ice hockey look gentile). There wasn't a cloud in the sky and it was ominously warm for the relatively late 11am start. Chatted to a couple of Bourton athletes (why is there always a Bourton runner wherever one races?!) then we were off with a 3,2,1 go!

Despite still feeling the calf cramp, I felt ok and was determined not to go off too fast. This was incredibly frustrating as I desperately wanted to go off with the lead pack. I had planned to run 6.45 miling to start with then, if I felt ok, maybe drop to 6.30's. 19.22 after 3 miles was a bit faster than this but I felt that I would feel uncomfortable running any slower, I'd already got into a good little group and I may as well try to get the race over with 'quickly' as this would save time on my feet - I know, a bit like accelerating towards a petrol station when running out of fuel but there you go.
Every mile between 3 and 10 was within 6 seconds (6.21 / 6.27) as I hooked up with a guy from Motherwell who seemed to know what he was doing. We were flowing along. By this stage I was about 25th. He then slowed at a drinks station and I found myself alone and reeled off 3 miles to halfway at an average of 6.17, picking off runners along the way. Being an out & back course I was able to ascertain my position at halfway, 12th in 1.24.00, faster than planned but I felt good and was enjoying picking off the runners ahead. This I did consistently, catching the guy in 4th at 19 miles. Thankfully he stayed with me, although I was slightly worried at his greying locks (turns out he wasn't even a V40!), and we helped each other through the "wall" miles. Fatigue was setting in but I'd hydrated well throughout the race, both with water and electrolyte (things have changed since I used to run marathons, in those days you made do with plastic cups of tap water which were impossible to drink out of), and also carried a gel, which I took at 19 miles and washed down at the next water station. Throughout the return journey along the banks of the Loch, the enormous, snow covered peak of Ben Nevis beckoned ever nearer - there was no doubting where the finish line was, although thankfully at the base not the summit of the country's highest mountain.

I was waiting for intense weariness to set in but I'd paced myself well and just after 23 miles the footsteps of my partner faded behind me (he eventually finished 4 minutes behind as the heat got to him). I was on my own in 4th but the next guy was a long way down the road. Held things together well (my fastest mile at 6.12 was no. 24) until the last mile which incorporated a couple of short, sharp climbs and was also into the brisk wind that had always been around but never in our faces. Claudie got the shock of her life when she looked up from reading her Sunday paper in the shinty stand: here was Wrighty flying (I exaggerate) down the finishing straight some 8 minutes faster than predicted, before collapsing in a heap across the finish line.

Elation turned to frustration a while later when I found out that the winner was only 4 minutes ahead - this was a race I could, in fact should, have won. I'd paced it perfectly, coming home in 1.23.20, giving me a negative split. Apart from my slow last mile (6.45), all my mile splits were between 6.12 and 6.29 and my 5 mile splits were 32.15, 32.04, 31.26, 31.31, 31.55.

After the presentation we drove to a wonderful hotel in the middle of Glencoe, miles away from anywhere, and enjoyed a few beers in the hot early evening sunshine (see picture). My face and shoulders were burnt but my calf cramp had gone! I think I've got the marathon bug back.

Lots of miles ... mostly in the car

2009-04-06T20:20:00.014+01:00

Seemed like a good idea at the time. Instead of seeing a double booking as an annoyance, a quick chat with Claudie and we agreed that instead of being double booked we'd go to both events happening on the same day, thus letting nobody down. Only problem was that one was in Birmingham and the other in London. We live in Cirencester!

It is an indicator of how far the club has come in recent times that talk before the Midlands 12 stage relay in Sutton Park wasn't whether we'd make the top 25 teams and qualify for the Nationals, but just how much time and how many positions we could take from last year. Despite a couple of late withdrawals the team was pretty strong and we easily beat our 2008 time by three minutes and improved four places to 14th. The problem comes next year. Whilst there were a couple of teams just ahead, there was then a gap of a few minutes before we can contemplate competing with the likes of Cheltenham. But that must be the target and is attainable. Year on year improvement at these relays is a great barometer of the club's improvements. Can the team stay together and move forward? Difficult to say, there are issues, but only time will tell. I'll be too old and slow soon so other, younger guys can take my place. I take no great pleasure in still dragging my ageing limbs around, it's a young man's sport.

A quick shower then instead of heading for the M5 it was the M6/M1 for our rendezvous in London which we made just 10 minutes late. Despite a late night I managed a lonely, contemplative 23 miles next morning, just like the old days.

Picture depicts Solo the cat and my MG, both of which give the Wright family much pleasure in these difficult times.

Footnote on last week's Reading ½. Running Somewhere Else, the other running club in town, went up en masse to the event, hiring a bus and making a day of it. Their team spirit is fantastic and they all encourage each other. What a perfect set up: a running club based at a pub, that's my kind of club. No wonder the lovely Jacki, who has the dubious pleasure of cutting my hair (and a very fine job she does I hear you say) enjoys being part of their team. I'm tempted ...

In the money - Reading ½ Marathon

2009-03-31T12:57:00.003+01:00

With the clocks going forward, it was a very early start on Sunday. In fact I got up just after Natalie got home from the delights of The Rock in Cirencester! For reasons that I don't intend to go into in this forum, it was a very late decision to run; whilst painting the garden fence between hail showers on Saturday, I had too much time to ponder and had virtually decided not to run. Still, we had a team with an outside chance of winning and there was always the £100 on offer to the first V50 ...
With a bit of blagging, thanks Chris & Wendy, I was not only able to purloin a free entry to the race but also managed an elite car parking space at the Madjeski Stadium. Paul Barlow particularly enjoyed being ushered through by lines of security officials and gave the royal wave.
I never felt particularly comfortable during the race - hardly surprising after six weeks with this bug / virus - but I tried to maintain a good pace throughout. After a particularly difficult spell through the centre of Reading - I found the twists & turns ruined my normally metronomic stride - I then locked into a great pace from about eight miles and managed a couple of sub 5.40 miles (57.50 at 10 miles). Bizarrely, in a field on 12,000 runners I was running totally alone for a few miles and couldn't even see the guys ahead. Finished strongly in the magnificent stadium and without any undue stress. Relatively pleased with my time; it's interesting that a year ago I would have been ecstatic with 76.02 such has been my progress. Had to wait until the next day to get the news that I'd won the V50 race by some five minutes.
Now I just need to get healthy and sort myself out.

End of winter ... doesn't feel that way

2009-03-25T20:11:00.003Z

Last night was the last session at the club in the dark before the clocks change. Next week we'll be out on the grass in shorts & t-shirt soaking up the sun. That's the idea but the false dawn of last week's relatively balmy weather has morphed into a bitter Northerly wind this week and the full winter gear has had to go back on. I just hope summer heralds an improvement in my health. For the past six weeks I have felt totally battered.

The only running news in the last couple of weeks has been the hilarious saga of the club V55 ½ marathon record. Chris Riches ran Bath with the sole intention of beating Bob Ferris' time of 1.37.42. Being a canny fellow, perhaps thinking incorrectly that he would receive a free pint for every record broken, CR ran fairly cautiously yet still took a minute off Bob's time with c 1.36.40 by his reckoning. The idea being that, Bubka style, he would then take further small chunks off the time during the year thus earning more free beer. He triumphantly left a message on my answerphone that another record had fallen (I was working hard in the garden at the time if Claudie is reading this). But ... Claudie [seen in picture with Natalie in Rome last year] had seen Anne Pople earlier and she said that Ian was running the Forest of Dean ½ that day. Mmm, methinks, Ian's been seen out running with Dick's mob recently and when he runs he runs a lot (hyper- something or other), wonder what time he did? Turns out he ran 1.36.01 so my return call to CR was difficult, especially as it took me about five minutes before I could get a word in - he was still on a high - to break the news. "That's a great run by Ian, I'm really pleased for him" said CR through gritted teeth and without much conviction. However the story continues ...

Next day the Bath results appeared on the internet: CR 1.36.01, the exact same time as Ian ran! Did we have joint record holders? Should CR hold the record as he's older than IP? Were the Bath results a cock-up? For a few short hours e-mails were flying around between the three of us and for some strange reason Brian Barrowclough became involved: the banter was superb. We even held up the normally super efficient club website update pending official confirmation. Of course it couldn't last, the Bath results were indeed an almighty cock-up and were initially published to the nearest minute! IP is the new record holder and CR has to go back to the drawing board. Great entertainment whilst it lasted.

Finally, news that Chris Illman now has a blog; it is highly informative and very entertaining. Have a look on http://www.illmanrunning.blogspot.com/

Absolute final comment this week; a lovely, timely and very apt statement that I read last week says it all really: "The art of good marathon training is to ensure that The Wall has a door in it".

That was tough.

2009-03-10T12:18:00.005Z

I have been racing for about 40 years but I honestly can't recall worse conditions for a road race than encountered on Sunday in the Gloucester '20'. Because of ongoing and well charted health problems, it was a last minute decision to run mainly based on the need to banish Andy Bradley's club V50 record into oblivion because of the stick he'd been giving me in the last two years. I also figured that if I felt bad I could treat the 20 as a training run. So after a lousy night's sleep (again!), I opened the curtains to a clear blue sky and what appeared to be a calm after the storm - the wind had been howling in the night. The atmosphere at the start in Frampton-on-Severn was very jovial. I was surprised that the 600 race limit had been reached; I suppose that's the effect of the London Marathon, only a few weeks to go so better do a few miles in preparation.

Decided to let Chris go for the glory and he duly obliged by going straight into the lead which he never relinquished. I settled into the second pack of four runners and we ran the first 6 miles together - at times it was hard to stop Dennis Walmsley talking, mainly about his previous best marathons but also asking about various aspects of Ciren AC: how my running was going so well, what time Chris aiming for at London (he scoffed when I told him, mainly as it's a time faster than he's done!) and whether Wendy was back running. Eventually the pack broke up with, surprisingly, Dennis the first to go out the back door.

Then it hit us! Turning the corner just after 7 miles the wind almost knocked us backwards. For the next mile or so it was head down, single file, into the wind and up some tough hills (note to all: never ask aforementioned Mr Bradley [seen here in Hungary, on right with Wendy, Paul Barlow & me] about contours of a course, he told me there were no hills of note. He was wrong!). The weather then got really nasty as freezing rain and spiky, painful hail started hitting us and the temperature plummeted. At times maintaining forward motion was almost impossible. I was wearing gloves but my fingers were numb. This lasted for 3-4 miles until the course turned direction at the start of the second of two laps (plus pan handle of 3 miles out / back). I was alone by this point and was able to stretch out again. It was a strange feeling though, or perhaps no feeling, because although my cadence picked up I couldn't feel my legs as they were numb from cold and the battering they'd received from the rain & hail.

Sure enough the wind hit again at 14 miles and lasted all the way through to the finish, although thankfully the rain had eased somewhat. I chased down a mad, long haired Russian from Headington (!), Vasily Zverev, for a few miles, catching him at 16, and also started lapping some of the poor souls who had another hour or two of purgatory to go through, before turning off for the 3 mile "run-in" to the finish. I use quote marks because by this stage and in those conditions the verb "to run" is probably not what best describes my attempts at forward motion. The combination of conditions, my health and the race distance all took their toll and I was struggling. Twice I slowed to a virtual jog as I was battered by the elements and both times I screamed out loud to myself to get moving again. The whole thing was quite surreal. I crawled across the finish line, bereft of emotion, looked at my watch and swore out loud. I knew times were irrelevant given the conditions but thought I could hold on to ensure that I would get the fastest V50 time in the country so far this year, namely 2:02:31. My splits were 29:22, 59:30 & 1.30.28. But no, all that effort and I missed top spot by 5 stupid seconds! My only pleasure came from replying to Mr Bradley's text asking about his record, which I broke by 24 minutes (conditions must have been tough that year Andy!). Now for his marathon record, but where ... ?

The final nightmare of the morning came after finishing. Rigamortis, hypothermia and frostbite were all kicking in yet I had to walk back across the canal bridge to the race HQ; I started walking along the towpath but in the wrong direction! It was only after a few minutes when I couldn't see a bridge in sight that I looked around and saw an official frantically waving his arms that I realised my mistake. There were, I'm sure, two more finishers up ahead of me, I just hope they are still not walking along the Gloucester & Sharpness Canal!

Grinding on

2009-03-03T12:38:00.002Z

With Claudie away in France, the conversation with Solo the cat being a bit one way and the thought of having to sit through Scotland v Italy on tv, I decided to run the White Horse '5' despite feeling rubbish still. Did a few miles in the park first thing whilst Chris & Adrian were doing a 4 mile time trial; if anything this at least got my body out of its lethargy. The race was nondescript, classy at the front but only 56 runners in total meaning lots of gaps. Sustained good sub 5.30 miles and shaved another 10 seconds off my V50 pb with my fastest time in 19 years! Wanted sub 27 really, perhaps next time. Thankfully was totally oblivious to a fast finishing Paul Barlow nearly catching me.
Caught up with old Ranelagh teammate Mike McDowell at the race. He is 81 now and officiates for Severn AC despite suffering a severe stroke a couple of years back. He has been banging on at me to bring down the McDowell Salver, a solid silver trophy that he donated a few years ago to the first Ranelagh V50 which I won last winter. I duly obliged and we posed for the picture shown, a copy of which will now go into the Ranelagh archives.
Next day Cirencester had a bit of work to do to ensure runners-up spot in the Oxford League at a new course near Faringdon. Adrian, Paul, Barry Sampson and I ran an 8 mile loop before the race and another 4 afterwards to get a good morning's mileage combined with the race. Thanks to 3 in 11 and good support further down the field, we won on the day which was great news.
Then it was home, via a quick visit to my mum in Elm Grove Nursing Home, to discuss the evening's menu with Solo. I decided on some venison procured from work and marinated in red wine. Solo decided to do his own thing and dined at the top of the stairs on a particularly succulent and very fresh pigeon. There were feathers everywhere!

Beware the wounded warrior

2009-02-27T16:16:00.004Z

Cricket lovers of a certain age will remember Gordon Greenidge very well. He was part of the invincible West Indies teams of the 80's and was a brutal opening batsman. However he always seemed to be injured. Sometimes he struggled to even limp to the crease because of a wrecked knee but his batting appeared to improve commensurate with the pain he was enduring. To see him limp out to bat was an almost certain guarantee that he would thrash a century off his good leg. What has this got to do with running you may well ask. Very little I guess but an example closer to home is Martin Pitts who has a permanent limp when running yet the more pronounced the limp the faster he appears to run.
In recent years I've had loads of injuries & illnesses and have often made a last minute decision to race even though I probably shouldn't - just ask Claudie! The Bourton 10km last Sunday was one such occasion. In my previous post I described the state of my back; that lingered all week. Then on the Thursday I moved from pain killers to paracetemol as I had another of my irregular bouts of hot sweats, thumping headaches, sore throats and battered body syndrome. I felt awful. However, you don't miss Bourton lightly as it's the fastest 10km around so I lined up ...
I went off at a decent pace (3.12, 3.10, 3.08 k's) as I wanted to get in and work with a group - too often I start easily and end up chasing throughout the race, which is hard graft. Legs felt great and the group worked really well together to the extent that we picked off the remnants from the group ahead, incl Dennis Walmsley, and by 4km had closed right up on Adrian Williams who was coming out the back door of his pack. I knew I was over extending though and just before 5km (16.21) I started to feel light headed. The second half was purgatory but I held on, thanks in part to good support on the course (including the pictured Justin & Tony), nearly throwing up in the funnel, and beat last year's time by over a minute with 33:36, also beating the the fastest V50 time in the country this year by 36 seconds. What excites me more is the knowledge that I wasn't feeling too well and I know there's more in the tank. View video of the race here: http://www.eightlane.com/generator.php?search=Video&id=805
Paid the price for my foolishness in running as I was totally washed out for the rest of the day and have felt lousy all week, thus ruining my training plans for the upcoming spring road races. Worth it though.
Club performances were slightly disappointing but there is no doubt that one day soon Cirencester are going to turn up a full strength squad and surprise the big clubs. We were second at Bourton to Cheltenham but should have won the team prize. What odds next year on Chris winning the race, Adrian getting a place and Cirencester winning the team race? You read it here first.

Time for reflection

2009-02-14T19:50:00.006Z

Two weekends without racing: no bad thing given the weather and the need for some decent mileage. So, time for a bit of reflection and to get on my soap box a bit. On a personal level the training has been going well although at a price. I've churned out more winter miles and the last two weeks have been my biggest for many a year; just steady running, which is all my aching body will take but it seems to work. I really am aching all over; slipping on the frozen snow and lethal ice hasn't helped (picture is from our bedroom window), especially my ongoing Achilles problems and slight hamstring tweak. Went to see an excellent physio today, Helen Hall who practises in Cirencester & Fairford (I have number if anyone interested). She didn't mince her words but talked real sense. She also told me what I already know, my body is in pretty rough shape! Possibly more on this - the physio, not my body, in due course.

The point about how I feel at the moment and the training I'm doing is important. At some stage the hard miles need to be put in and by their very nature they make you weary. The fact that I am 52 (v nearly) just accentuates the pain. Most reading this are much younger than me and can therefore get away with it. I'm taking a gamble just to see if I can have one final fling at some relatively decent times but you lot can cross the weariness barrier and make progress.

I vowed when I started this blog that I wouldn't harp on about the 80's when everyone ran fast; if you ran 3 hours for a marathon you were in danger of coming last (it happened to a friend of mine); everyone ran 150 miles a week, drank 10 pints every night then ran 10 miles home in their hob nailed boots ... However if it helps to illustrate a point then why not? After all, the way people ran 25 years ago must hold some clues to what is still possible today despite our sedentary lifestyle. Sites like 8lane waffle on about training methods and theoretical quality sessions but the overriding thing that strikes me about the comments that I read there and elsewhere - and they are written by good runners - is a lack of consistency. Yes they train hard but not all the time. This, I think, more than anything else is the difference today. The long term view must be taken - forget the race coming up next month, yes do it but only as a stepping stone. The real target must be year on year improvements off good endurance training throughout the year and the belief that this will eventually lead to times currently totally out of range. It must be a lifestyle thing.

Work out what your base week is i.e. number of times you can run broken down into easy recoveries, intervals, tempo / threshold, fartlek, hills, lsd (long steady distance) then build into that being your normal week. Then just get on with it. As Steve Cram once said, if you want to be a better runner then run more miles.

We had a fantastic group of runners at Ranelagh and we all grew up together. The Wednesday night club run around Richmond Park was the highlight of the week as well as being a hard tempo run of generally 12-13 miles. The elation afterwards in the bar was sensational and if a Wednesday run was missed there was a real feeling that your weekly fix had been missed. This was a year round session done with friends with similar attitudes, the camaraderie was wonderful. That's why a talentless runner like me was able to post some half decent times. If I could do it then so could most of today's runners. You just have to have belief in your own ability and faith that consistent training will bring its rewards.

I'm attempting to build something similar with our Tuesday sessions at Cirencester. It's harder because it's a session evening but it is beginning to gel and I get the feeling that we are working well as a group, cajoling each other into sustaining the effort. It is definitely taking shape. I don't know what will happen during the summer, only time will tell.

Stop press: May have wrecked my Bourton chances. Got into an awkward position lifting my wheelchair bound mum from car to her chair, something I've done hundreds of times, and thought nothing of it at the time. A few hours later I tried to stand but couldn't as my back had seized up. I'd struggle to run a bath at the moment, let alone a 10k.

Glutton for punishment

2009-02-02T17:50:00.007Z

Three races in six days, not the most sensible thing to do - especially in January - but there were good reasons for all three:

1. Did Tuesday night's Bridge Inn 5km so that I could post a ranking time. Unfortunately after a lovely calm, dry day, the wind got up and the rain came down with bad consequences. I felt that I was competitive yet was well shy of my 16:45 target. My splits of 8:11 / 8:59 on the out & back course give the game away. It was straight into the wind on the way back. What was more annoying was tweaking a hamstring on the wet, dark, twisty footpath. Bah, humbug. Justin had planned to come down with me but must have seen the forecast as he pulled out, sensible man. Enjoyed the company of Chris Riches for a beer afterwards and we waxed lyrical on club problems.
2. I don't miss mob matches and Blackheath completed another winter's efforts (that's 135 now since 1974). Chris decided he needed a workout and racing on Saturday fits in much better to the training routine so he not only came along but he obliterated the field, winning by four minutes! His only problem on this old fashioned, traditional one lap course that took in a dozen stiles (see pictures of us both) and went up hill and down dale, was to stay on course. Great run and should give him confidence going forward. I was pleased to beat all Ranelagh bar Chris & thus win the Harry Sheer trophy as 1st V50, except that no one could find the trophy! Shame as Harry was a dear old friend of mine - he loved cricket & running - before he died many years ago.

3. Adrian was struggling all week to get a decent team out for the Oxford League. It was bitterly cold and I didn't fancy a long run alone so despite an aching body from yesterday's racing and long drive, I ran. I did a six mile run to get some Sunday miles in then lined up near the back of the field. With the bitter weather it wasn't too muddy so I wore flats - as I had at Blackheath - and had a lovely run, gradually moving through the field. The great news afterwards was that Cirencester won by a solitary point. Fantastic. Did a four mile recovery run in the evening before a long soak in the bath. I need a rest!

Favourite track session!

2009-01-24T10:20:00.009Z

No races for a couple of weeks now, as planned and quite fortuitous given my streaming cold last weekend. Having, for once, trained well & stayed healthy through the Christmas period, there was a certain inevitability about going down with something. Although making you feel miserable, it's important to try to put a positive slant on such things, otherwise you drag yourself down: this was drummed into me by daughter Natalie on the phone last weekend when she told me off and said not to be a typical bloke complaining of man flu! From a running perspective it is very important to have a structured training plan but it is also vital that adaptability is addressed. You cannot train at full tilt all the time; easier weeks need to be incorporated into planning. If, however, a cold or slight niggle comes along then use that as the easy week and adapt your schedule accordingly.

Anyway, this week I've been thinking about how well the club sessions have gone on Tuesday nights through the winter. Despite constant cold weather, we have worked well together and there is no doubt that a number of regular attendees will be looking forward to Bourton next month to see how the winter conditioning has brought them on. We have concentrated on long efforts with short recoveries and it has been good to see how everyone has adapted their attitude to ensure that they compete throughout the session and don't fade badly. It helps that there has been a great camaraderie amongst everyone, with friendly cajoling and encouragement for all and good little groups working together. Long may this continue.

This got me thinking about my favourite track session. I suggest that anyone of a nervous disposition stops reading now! In short it was 62 x 400 with 3½ minutes recovery, in an average of 68 seconds. I'm cheating a bit here really because this was a race. Barendrecht, near Rotterdam in Holland was the location, a four man 100km track relay organised by my long standing close Dutch friend Alex Halter. I did this five times with Ranelagh in the early 80's, we were 2nd the first year but then won it each of the four years thereafter. Our winning time in 1984 was 4.46.48, which is sub two hour marathon pace for nearly five hours! Sometimes it frightens me when I look back on these runs.

Essentially the rules were simple, 250 laps of the track had to be covered by the four runners in any format. There was a changeover along the back straight and clearly the best format was to break the race into 400m efforts, hence the 3½ minute recovery whilst the three other runners did their bit. To spice up the race, the organisers regularly announced mini races within the overall event, a bit like sprint bonuses in the Tour de France: so in the middle of an effort, the bell would ring and the first to finish the next 400 between a couple of teams starting the lap together, would win a prize. We ended up each year with a myriad number of bizarre gifts, ranging from chickens to flowers, umbrellas, books, beer and money.

It was mind over matter to sustain the efforts for so many hours and you locked into a routine: run 400, hand over the baton, walk to tent, sit down for a minute, get up to loosen the legs again, walk to the handover, do the 400 ... 62 times! The picture is of one of our winning teams: from left Simon Collingridge (avg 69.1), DW (68.3), Simon Hedger (69.5), Steve Pautard (68.1). We all lived within a mile of each other in Worcester Park (Collingridge was my flatmate) and we trained a lot together, notably our Monday night 10 milers that always started slowly before we gradually cranked up the pace until eventually we were absolutely flying. Great days. Pautard ran 2.19 at London at the age of 19 and repeated the time a year later, albeit with brown shorts: he was totally focused on his running but rather burnt himself out on 130 miles a week too early in his life. Last I heard he was playing golf off a single figure handicap. Hedger moved to Australia after marrying an Aussie flatmate of mine, and, like his dad before him back in the 1950's, became an excellent runner, cracking 50 for 10 miles. He's now back in good old Blighty but is feeling the cold and doesn't like being beaten by Wrighty! Collingridge was undoubtedly the most natural runner, his best was probably a 30.10 track 10km at Crystal Palace together with some big road race victories when living in France. However, he was too easily distracted by women and beer to dedicate himself to running - Claudie will attest to the number of broken hearts he left at my flat!

At Barendrecht the fun didn't stop with the running. The evening's festivities were always superb. Most teams hung around afterwards (about 25-30 teams competed) and the organisers put on a big meal. The Belgian teams, our biggest rivals, always brought cases of their famous (& strong) red beers and the celebrating went on well into the night. The next day's Sunday run was always fairly amusing, the combination of the 25km at 4½ minute miling, the food & drink and the dancing & singing left us all somewhat weary. But what a track session and invariably a few weeks later I would run some of my best races.

So, what is there to learn from this? Firstly, enjoy the social camaraderie that team racing and socialising can bring. Running is a lonely sport but runners can relate to each other and have mutual respect for the effort, if not always the result, that goes into training & racing. Secondly, track sessions and any sort of interval work don't just mean 8 x 400 with 200 jog: mixing pace with endurance has to be key to progress for most club members seeking to improve at 10km and above. That doesn't mean going out and doing 62 x 400 each week but it does show the worth of the long conditioning workouts we've been doing through this winter, together with tempo and threshold runs that really build the endurance base. Sharpen this up with some spicy short track intervals in the spring & summer and the race times will tumble. I promise.

PS Just seen today's Midland XC Champs results: Cirencester a magnificent 8th, not many points off 5th. Adrian's boys are coming on really well and with another equally strong 6-8 runners available the prospects for April's 12 stage relays are exciting to say the least.

Frozen wastes of Banbury

2009-01-06T12:57:00.009Z

Now that was good fun! Serious cross country is off my agenda these days as my Achilles will not allow the wearing of spikes. I get away with Ranelagh mob matches as they are social occasions and just good training. It's a shame really because I have always believed that xc serves a purpose in terms of strengthening the athlete through the resistance of mud, hills, awkward terrain and all sorts of winter weather. I always used to race over the country on a weekly basis taking some races seriously but using others as good hard training runs. It also helped that xc was, and still is, generally on a Saturday afternoon with the consequence of a perfect weekend: race Saturday afternoon, drink Saturday evening then get out for the long Sunday run.

With the winter weather continuing its harsh vein, it was evident that Banbury's course would be frozen and I could get away with wearing flats so I told skipper Adrian that I'd have a run round. Having done a two hour training run the day before I had no expectations of performance although it's amazing how often a good race can come in these situations through relaxation and no race stress. Today sort of fitted into this category, but only eventually ...

I might have 40 years experience of racing but sometimes I'm as stupid as ever: I wanted to start steadily and then move through the field, something I do as a matter of course, but I ignored one obvious problem. About 200 metres into the race there was a tiny gap to run through with the added problem of a fallen tree to climb over. This was crass planning by the race organisers, being so close to the start, but something I should have thought about. But no, I naively sauntered off at a leisurely pace then came to a grinding halt as I queued to get over the damned log! As it turned out this made the race more fun. The next mile or so was awkward as I tried to pass others along the narrow disused rail track (see Bill Leggate's photo), made particularly difficult by the rutted ground, but as the field spread out I started to stretch my legs and by the second lap I was absolutely flying. What a great feeling it was to feel so strong and to pass others at pace. With a mile to go I spotted club debutant Ben Rosedale up ahead - he was having an excellent first run in the red & black - and was able to get by before spotting Robbie Brown a few more places further on. I got up to his shoulder with about 400 to go, he looked back, saw me and took off for the finish. I might have been going well but I had no change of pace. Great run by Robbie and hopefully a sign that he's about to make a breakthrough in 2009 - perhaps his mum, Sue, will get her way and he'll give up rugby, and all those horrific injuries, and take his running seriously. I hope so as he has the talent.

The club turnout was pitiful and that's a real concern. Adrian (see picture, on his way to a superb 4th place finish) works really hard as captain and we have the makings of a cracking team but races such as the Oxford League should embrace the whole club, not just the first team, and that's just not happening.

Lies, damn lies & statistics

2009-01-01T14:56:00.005Z

That's good. The bubble hasn't yet burst. Having not raced seriously for a while, I wasn't sure how the fitness levels were despite some good solid training. To be honest I wondered whether my autumn successes may have been isolated and not attainable again. So I lined up at the Pilot Inn '5' near Gloucester this morning not knowing what to expect. It was bitterly cold - the drive to the race had been quite spectacular, particularly around Birdlip where there was a complete whiteout of frost on the ground and in the trees; wish I'd had my camera - and I did a longish slow warm-up just to try to get the blood flowing.
Although a very small field, there was some decent quality and Jeremy (Billy Whizz) Bradley and Phil (blogger) Parry were soon out on their own. By the second mile I found myself in the next group and the five of us stayed together for the rest of the race. I only knew two of the group: Andy Prophett, a former winner of the Bourton 10km but coming back from injury, and Dave Lander who'd beaten me at Tewkesbury in November over the same distance. Paul Barlow had just beaten Lander on Boxing Day so he was a big target for me. Prophett was a nightmare to race against as he kept veering from side to side. We all took turns at the front of the group and that maintained the pace. It took an age to reach the turn around point on the out & back course with the latter stages being very undulating. On the way back I pushed on up one of the hills, breaking up the group and dropping two including Lander. It was then a question of hanging on to the others. I sustained my pace to the finish although Pete Stephens from Severn surprised me right on the line. That disappoinment was more than made up for by my time of 27.29 (out 13:45, back 13:44), my best for 18 years! What's more I am now ranked No.1 in the country at V50 for 5 miles in 2009. OK we've only had 12 hours of the year so far but nobody can take away the fact that I topped the national rankings!!
A happy, healthy & enjoyable New Year to all. May there be friendlieness & peace everywhere (and may the €uro crash so that we can afford to buy property in France!).

Two mob wins in a row

2008-12-15T11:49:00.016Z

Thanks to a car load from Cirencester turning up and running second claim for Ranelagh - Wrighty, Chris Illman, Keith Firkin & Claudie - a second mob match win on the bounce resulted in a flooded Richmond Park. It has to be said that Claudie's input was relatively minor, a bit of retail therapy in Kingston whilst the boys were swimming around the park, but she did her bit in the car, motivating us towards an epic win whilst explaining how much she intended spending on jewellery!

David Rowe's picture of the delights of Richmond Park was taken two weeks ago, hence lack of water.

Spent half of the run contemplating what I'd write about Andy Bickerstaff, affectionately known as DH to those in the know. Definitely his week for the treatment given his mocking before the race. Fairly easy really: after many years of his captaincy, Marc Snaith has taken over this season and the mob match victories are flowing. DH's record as skipper was Won 8, Lost 20! He didn't even come into the pub for a celebratory drink after the race, albeit he had a good excuse, but DH not drinking, what has the world come to? Checking back, it appears that we haven't won back to back mob matches since 1988 so we can't blame DH entirely. Bring on Blackheath!

PS So that DH continues to talk to me I'll plug his excellent website that promotes training runs all over the country: have a look at http://www.goodrunguide.co.uk/

Feeling guilty

2008-12-09T14:02:00.009Z

After a good week's training, albeit with various aches & pains, my first back after a few weeks active recovery, I had a difficult choice at the weekend. Should I run the Oxford League at Culham Park or not? This was a tough decision and I changed my mind a few times. My big problem with any sort of testing xc course (and Culham Park is very testing!) is the pressure on my ailing Achilles. It is no longer possible for me to wear spikes and running on muddy / hilly courses becomes virtually impossible. Against that is my very strong views on the whole team ethic of these league races. This is a very individual sport but we are part of a team and as such should support the main team event of the winter. So what did I do ... ?

The long run at the weekend is sacrosanct whether racing or not so I went out on my own on Saturday morning, Adrian being busy with family, and had a lovely cold run to Siddington, a lap of the water park, Poole Keynes, Ewen & Siddington again, about 14 in total. It was very sunny and I ran early - this meant two problems, namely a very low sun in the sky which blinded me at times and icy country roads. As the day went on I started to think that if I could make the scoring seven I should run the league race, even if wearing flats. Claudie wasn't impressed with the idea: "you'll get injured again" she said. Then Chris texted. He is coming back from injury and building up his training very sensibly. Could he have a run with me Sunday morning he wanted to know. This swung it, I had a reason not to go to Culham. Sorry Adrian, sorry team. I thus ended up with a second long run of the weekend - this time only about 11 miles although at a decent clip - which for my running was perfect but for my conscience ...

Mob match & traffic

2008-11-30T12:13:00.022Z

One of the great pleasures of living away from London these days is the lack of traffic jams. Went up to Richmond Park with Claudie & Keith Firkin for Ranelagh's first home mob match of the season . We were aware of the England v NZ rugby at Twickenham so adjusted our timings accordingly yet still had a nightmare of a journey, which included doubling back onto the M4 at one stage, just getting to the venue in time.

On a cold, murky day Ranelagh turned out 62 to Thames' 42, usually a sure fire sign of ultimate victory as mob matches allow the club with greater numbers to shed their slowest runners in the final scoring. However, Thames are not Surrey League leaders for nothing and they have immense strength in depth as the trail of white vests down Queen's ride on the first lap attested (clear in David Rowe's photos). I went off far too fast, it just felt really easy. A combination of slipping around on the muddy sections - I was wearing "slicks", road running shoes - and struggling as ever on the hills, especially off no real warm-up, meant that I paid the price on the second lap. Thames managed 12 of the first 13 finishers before I managed to stem the flow and lead home some blue vests. I was absolutely knackered but managed to hold on to not only defend my McDowell Salver club V50 championship but also win the club's Hastings Cup V40 champs!

Highlight of the day from a club perspective, other than a rare win, was Clive Naish completing his 100th mob match to join what is now a club of seven (I sadly lead the field with 133). Remarkably, given Thames' dominance up front, Ranelagh won the 39 a side race by 100 points, a tiny margin in mob match terms. Celebratory beers were quaffed into the evening over some convivial conversation with old friends from both clubs at the Dysart Arms. This was, of course, the location for the famous meeting referred to in John Bryant's history of the London Marathon, where five people sat down and discussed the possible birth of such a race. The five were Messrs Brasher, Disley, Rowland, Hanscomb & Wright. Yep, you can blame me for all the suffering on the streets of London each April!

Late in the evening I started getting texts from Cirencester's annual dinner: I am club athlete of the year. This really came as a big surprise - thought I might get the vet prize - and hadn't even occurred to me. Bittersweet indeed.

A remarkable renaissance

2008-11-24T20:41:00.021Z

No races this week as I try to repair my broken body from the ravages of some sustained hard racing the results of which have left me bemused, overwhelmed and amazed. I will try to put into words how my times over the last couple of months have been nothing short of remarkable, relative to my recent history, although don't expect that rational an explanation for the cause of this renaissance. I'll go through my races chronologically to illustrate the development.

Having had some scary health problems in July/August, the Beacon 10km on 7 Sep was probably the start. I'd just got back from a holiday in France where I enjoyed some lovely runs along the coast of Brittany and I had no great expectation for the race. There were very few Cirencester runners there as it wasn't part of the club championship and it clashed with Tony Curry's charity race in the park (I managed to do both with some fairly nifty driving!). As ever I started steadily but very quickly realised that running with the guys from local clubs, with whom I've generally had good races, felt too easy. I could have stayed with these guys - it's too easy to "know your place" in a race - but I pushed on and eventually caught Lee Christmas from Stroud, much to his surprise, and ran straight past him. I've never done that before! The time wasn't sensational (35.22) but I knew that something had changed in my fitness levels. A week later I lined up for the Chippenham ½ Marathon. Again a steady start but I got into a good tempo after about two miles and sustained it through to the finish to exceed my expectations by minutes with 76.47. After some prevarication, I was selected for the Midlands 6 stage relays on 20 Sep and, despite being isolated on the last stage, produced a time that shocked a few watching team mates. Picture from relay shows from left: Paul Barlow, Marc Fallows, Adrian Williams, Bill Leggate, Chris Illman, David Wright. I was very competitive in our own Cirencester Park 10km (28 Sep), taking particular pleasure in cruising past old adversary Mike Smith, and more people were starting to ask where I'd got this new found fitness from. On 5 Oct in the Cricklade 10km I even had the temerity to go off with the leaders and really enjoyed the buzz of this competitive edge that I'd not experienced for decades, eventually finishing 2nd in 35.00.

After a week's rest from competition I set myself the task of three more races before I could take a well earned rest; these turned out to be the best of the lot despite aches & pains percolating through my entire body. On 19 Oct I revisited old haunts in Twickenham at the Cabbage Patch '10' and easily beat all my Ranelagh teammates in running the 5th fastest V50 time in the country this year (56.24); I followed this up with the equivalent performance at the Stroud ½ Marathon (26 Oct), running 75.21. Funnily enough I didn't feel good in either of these races, weariness was setting in, which actually makes me think that there's quite a lot more to come off my times once I regroup and organise my winter training. To top things off and to ensure that I won the Glos Road Race Series I ran the Tewkesbury '5' on 2 Nov on a wild, windy day, finishing 7th overall, having had a good race with Ronnie O'Sullivan the snooker player the day before when running for Ranelagh in Epping Forest in a Mob match v Orion Harriers (see photo). At both Stroud & Tewkesbury I was the perfect gentleman as I "allowed" Wendy to finish a few seconds ahead of me (not sure quite what her comments would be on that, especially as it's not quite true, I was hanging on ...!).

In all the above races I was first V50 and in most of them I ran times not approached by me for up to 15 years. It's difficult to be sure why things went so well particularly as I had a number of personal issues to deal with in the summer, but clearly consistency of training was key - effectively a steady 50+ miles a week every week - as was my memory bank: once I got into a good sustained pace I wasn't frightened about going too fast but merely excited by the competitive buzz from years gone by. Probably the most important thing to have learned from this is to get out of the comfort zone and have belief in one's abilities. I will expand on some of these points in the coming weeks but that will suffice for now.

My first post

2008-11-15T21:06:00.000Z

Nearly five years and 60 editions after initially setting up the Cirencester Athletics Club monthly newsletter I am about to cease my editorial duties. My reasons for this are many and varied and I don't intend getting into them at this stage. However, I have decided that this is therefore the perfect time to set up a personal blog. Yes, it's me being a bit self-indulgent for the first time in my life, but I think also that it may serve to help other runners in whatever small way that can be derived.

I intend posting on a weekly basis reflecting on my running experiences during that week. I will also reminisce about my long and varied running career, I have after all been racing for 40 years. So sit back, enjoy and be ready for a switchback ride! I will welcome feedback of any kind - constructive criticism is often the best way to improve things so all suggestions welcome. It will take time for me to fully develop my site so, reader(s), please be patient.