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.