No blisters, just fond memories

Signing off. Not quite a journey's end, but without doubt a significant mile stone. All said, all run. This blog will be confined to the electronic annals of time, but nothing will erase the fact that I was there, I did it.

From this temporal distance I remember only the elation of the finish, the miles all unwound. But at the time, it was a different story. Tired, and more than a little achy.

Pain omnipresent. The tin man left out over a harsh winter. Shandong Province the unlikely source of a bottle of red playing WD40 substitute.

And the music, oh the music. Bands all along the route, some drumming, some singing, some saxophoning. The lasting image of a sulken cymbal player, passed twice. A forlorn fleece the epitomy of drab colourlessness, but the stripy pants, oh lordy, the stripy pants would have had Joseph himself thinking - Nah, not today. Her face implacable, victim of a change of wind. Thoughts flitting from past to future and back like Audis on the autobahn.

A sign, 18 miles out: "A marathon is just a 10k race with a 20 mile warm up". Will this warm up never end.

Sated banana cravings, high-fiving kids, sponge lined straats, whiffy Italians and stern Copenhagers.

Shine on, followed immediately by Shine, hallucinating on the night that Minnie Timperley died, believe it or not. 21 miles - Mr Blobby down in the tube station at midnight, keep on runnin'.

As I walked to the start line Eleanor Rigby put her face back in the jar by the door and glancing down the street spotted a certain little Ukelele player leaning expectantly against a lamp post.

Coming down the final approach to the Olympic Stadium, just as I began my deluded push for glory, it was ".... run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run" which spurred me on, on, on...

...but I'm afraid John, John, John it wasn't to be as the final bars faded out just as the fabulously faded glory of a 1920's icon fell prostrate before me - to be replaced by roaring crowds, my wonderful support team screaming from the stands, and little Sandie Shaw assuring me that there will always be "something there to remind me" - most probably the scars of the operation I'll now need to shore up my knees.

From the Vondelpark forth the clock was ticking ever quicker, the four hour target which seemed always within reach starting to appear like the merest reflection of itself in a muddy puddle. Come on, you lazy, f, f, f, r. You may never be here again. Legs suddenly spurred on. The last quarter mile the fastest of all and 3:59:02the digits which made it all the more satisfying.

The finish line was never but sweet folly. The point of running was to run, to run, to run. There is no respite just around the bend, there is no final race, nought else, no end.

Anything planned for the weekend?

Well, yes, actually, thanks for asking. On Saturday it's my wonderful wife's Birthday so I'm whisking her and the family off for a long weekend in Amsterdam. Oh, and on the Sunday, as it happens to be on, I'm going to run the Amsterdam marathon. Shouldn't take too long, about four hours I reckon, and it'll be nice to do a bit of a tour of the city by foot. Training? Yeh, I've done a bit, but being such a fine speciman of humanity it only takes a few laps of the local park once a fortnight for me to keep my fitness level up. Yeh, flying out from Birmingham tomorrow so probably won't get the chance to blog any more. Can't wait. Everyone has been incredibly supportive and I'm taking with me loads of good wishes. Not to mention 109 sponsored songs. That'll keep me moving even when the searing pain cuts through every muscle and sinew (yeh, that'll be from about mile three onwards). Right, best get on and finish the packing, still got a few bits and bobs to organise. Before an early night. Give this cold a chance to rampage through the body and out. By Christ I need a drink. Rally struggling to keep up the abstinence tonight. Ah well, not long to go and the first glass post run will be all the sweeter for it. Adios anonymous reader. And don't forget, as the playwright/President once said, its a game of two Havels. Total mileage to date: 948ish. Ha, ha, ha.

Against all odds....

... and possibly medical advice. A ten miler today, an eight miler yesterday, a five miler the day before. Sounds good until I mention the five day gap without running prior to that. Ooops. It all started with a cripplingly painful lower back, and ended on the floor of the 7:14 to New Street. Apparently Co-Codamol can do that to you. Weird. Never experienced a blackout before, and don't much care if I never do again. Hence the break, but we're back to it now, desparately trying to work the mileage back up, trying not to faint again, trying to convince myself that I can keep it going. Despie the odds stacking up against. One week to go. Chip, chip, chip. Total mileage to date: 937.45. Weight: about where I want to be.

Ow, ow, ow

As Brucie never sang..... Pain, is the name of the game, and I don't wanna play the game no more.

The biggest mileage week of the training programme last week with a total of 45 miles clocked, including the big twenty miler on the Sunday. Trouble was, I went into it with a sore back which has got progressively worse as time has gone by. This lead to an emergency call to the Osteopath (simple message: "help") and two highly painful sessions on the couch this week, with much pulling, prodding and pushing. At the end of it, despite the progress I can feel, the back is still incredibly sore, interrupting sleep and wildly diminishing the desire to move, never mind run. Add to that the problem I've got across the top of the left foot - which feels like that brittly crinkly red wrapper on the horrible quality street - and I just feel like I'm falling apart at the moment.

Not that its stopped me. I'm a stubborn bugger at the best of times and with the help of regular Voltarol rammed down the throat I've kept on the road through the week, lets just hope I can hold it together for another two weeks. Two weeks, just two weeks. It may cost me a fortunate in Osteo fees, but I'm determined to do it. Come on.

Mileage to date: 907.55 (doesn't look like I'll quite make a thousand, darn) Weight: an incredible 12st 2 at the end of the 20 miler, briefly, but more regularly about 12st 9.

Worcester Half Marathon

The last scheduled pre-marathon race yesterday with the inaugural Worcester Half Marathon up at Top Barn. Didn't really know what to expect with it being advertised as multi-terrain over various surfaces, but it turned out to be interesting and something of a challenge. The two lap course looped and twirled around fields, quarries, riverbanks, Lakes and pools in quite a convoluted manner, confusing and bamboozling, but there were enough marshalls to make sure no-one went astray. A couple of pretty steep, but blessedly fairly short, hills took it out of you at key times but I still managed to sneak in with a PB of 1:43:42, finishing a pleasing 37th out of a field of 186. Tired at the end, and a bit achy today, but it was an encouraging run and I was chuffed to bubbles to come in under the 1hr 45 barrier. Some soreness in the tendon that runs down to my big toe on my left foot, and a slightly tight achilles have distracted me from the painful back (a trip to the osteo might be in order this week) but no "new" injuries to report. Not long now. Total mileage to date: 775.77, weight: 12st 11.

Next month

I'm running a marathon. It feels a bit weird to be saying that. Makes me think about that finishing line, the miles all behind me, nowhere left to run. A damp one tonight, wetter than a Julian Clary handshake under a waterfall in monsoon season. Eight and a quarter miles down a soggy canal but still an improvement on previous times for the run, so despite the fatigue, the encouragement is still there. Training hasn't been going too bad over the last week or so. I managed to slip in an early morning eighteen miler on bank holiday morning. Sneaking out of the house at six o'clock without waking the clan. Padding my way up the towpath as the sun rose. Saw more Herons than Humans and the highlight was a definitely a rare sighting of a Kingfisher, a flash of startling blue cutting through the morning gloom as it harassed a pigeon then streaked off along the bank. Definitely a spirit lifter. Positive news from Adoption UK too, with some great support now coming from their fundraising and press officers for which I'm very grateful. Around £500 now pledged and the songs continue to sell. Another push over the next couple of weeks and who knows where we'll end up. But I know one thing. Next month I'm running a marathon. Total mileage to date: 751.81

Its been a while...

...since my last post. Due partly to a problem with the blog when I last tried to post, but also because I've been off doing my "warm weather training" (ha!) in North Devon. To be honest, with the hols and other family commitments I've not been able to fully adhere to the training programme, mixing things up a little and keeping it going as best possible though. I've probably lost about three or four runs over the last couple of weeks, and I expect a few more to drift away from me in the month to come, but hopefully I'm getting enough done to keep at a decent level as we move into the final period. At least I got plenty of hill running practice when off camping, as the landscape fitted with the name of "Hidden Valley" and dictated that whichever way I went from the site I was faced with a pretty steep climb. The road I ended up taking several times was about a 1 in 4, consistently, for the best part of a mile - a real grueller to pull up, and too steep to run down comfortably, but different, and quite satisfying. The "highlight" though was an 18 mile run last Friday - a good 4 to 5 miles further than I've ever run in one go. Ever, ever, ever. To reduce impact on the family holiday I timed it to coincide with a cycling trip down the tarka trail. A friend came up for the day and we hired bikes for everyone (except me), S enjoying her first trip on a tag along and C doing ever so well by cycling himself. We all headed off together for the first four and a half miles, then while I carried on over the Taw Bridge and down towards Bideford, the others carried on into Barnstaple to a park and cafe for lunch, meeting up with me again as I returned after 13.5 miles and sticking with me for the final push. It was tough, not helped by a torrential downpour, but that was perhaps to be expected and having some company and support for part of it really helped. But most importantly, what I did find is that I could just about keep going for the duration, and although I was very tired, it makes me think that I am capable of doing the full distance - particularly if I can get in a few more runs of this sort of length. So overall a positive. Since that time I've only done two runs, a short 3+ recovery run and a steady five and a half miler last night - a very listless affair. Joints are a bit sore and one or two muscles could do with a massage, but I'm still trugging along. Tomorrow's another day, another run. Total mileage to date: 704.48, which has now had me running for over 100 hours at an average of 8 mins 32 secs per mile. It all counts.