So, whatever next...

It having been nearly 3 weeks since Le Mans, I think it's time for a brief update on events since and plans.

Having rather foolishly entered the Edinburgh leg of the Men's Health Survival of the Fittest some months ago, vaguely aware that it was only 2 weeks after Le Mans, I was on a bit of a race against time to see if the Tonsillitis would ease and I'd be fit enough to compete. Although the throat and slight lingering fever hung around, by the middle of last week I was feeling OK, and managed a light jog on Thursday with no adverse side-effects - and therefore passed myself "fit" for the race on Sunday.

The Survival of the Fittest is loosely described as an Urban Challenge - 10k or so of pounding round city streets with various obstacles or challenges thrown in for good measure. And, as it's Edinburgh, a special extra treat of hills. Lots of bloody hills. The event starts with a belt down the Royal Mile (with walls of hay bales to clamber over) before heading down some of the narrow closes and under Waverley Station before the first real challenge - the narrow but brutally steep staircase of Jacob's Ladder, before continuing to climb to the top of Calton Hill, from where there are superb panoramic views. Apparently. Difficult to see when you're bent double owing to being completely out of breath. And also broken Range Rovers to clamber through followed by a full on army assault course.

Having been appropriately beasted, we then descend Calton Hill by means of more narrow tracks and staircases, passing the Parliament and Dynamic Earth before the relentless drag up through the woods alongside Arthur's Seat to the next challenge - The Water Slide. Worryingly the guys at the top were discussing whether, through extreme wetting of the slide, they could get their victims into the trees 30m away from the end of the slide. I only managed a 15m slither across the soaked muddy ground, although as wedgies go it wasn't a particularly comfortable experience.

From there the route went through the tunnel of the old Innocent Railway before winding its way down onto Cowgate for the next fun. A slightly mad maze through road work accessories before a 5 storey climb up through a disused warehouse. On exiting this, we climbed (again) back up to the Royal Mile for a further bouncy castle challenge before dropping steeply back to Cowgate for the loop round the Grassmarket (with some light Parkour thrown in) and round the back of the Castle and into Princes Street Gardens for the last few obstacles - crawling through tunnels and one last 3m high wall to be navigated (helped over). As I'd expected a time of around 70 minutes in my "take it very easy" mindset, I was quite happy with 63. Sub-60 next year, though... I was nice to do an event that, although tough, is mainly for fun and has a great camaraderie amongst the participants.

In other news, I didn't make the ballot for next year's Virgin London Marathon. Not really that surprised, but slightly disappointed all the same. Came back home from Le Mans to find the "commiserations" magazine they send out, and was rather taken aback that more than half of it was filled with adverts from charities encouraging you to apply for a guaranteed place with them. Then the first 2 emails from the organisers were along the same line - if you're disappointed, here's a huge list of charities who DO have places. This was starting to irk me a bit - surely, despite all the excellent fundraising that goes on, this is a running event first and foremost? Well, perhaps not, actually.

Having got in through the ballot (and decided to raise funds for Marie Curie) last year, the whole "guaranteed places for charities" thing had kind of passed me by, but I did vaguely recall some controversy about it just before the race. Decided to do a bit of reading up, and it seems that of the 36000 places in the race, 15000 are guaranteed to charities through various bond schemes. Or, put another way, after sponsors and celebrity places, little more than half of the places are available for general entry. Which is why it's so damn hard to get in through the ballot.

Apparently charities pay £300 for a guaranteed place, with many holding between 200 and 500 places and some having in excess of 700! Ballot runners pay about £40, so it clearly suits the organisers to have more revenue-generating charity places than ballot entries. Apparently the charities are also charged for advertising in the official publications and website too. The charities then need to recoup that outlay, so look to people to raise a minimum funding level - usually of at least £2000. This seems to be playing into people's desperation to run the event - they're effectively guaranteeing to pay £2000+ and assuming they'll be able to recoup some or all of it through sponsorship.

Now, I think this is wrong. I'd like to see a lot more places available in the ballot. People who get in through the ballot will almost certainly still choose to run for a charity (it IS an important part of the event), and I don't think the charities would lose out - people would still try just as hard to raise funds and they wouldn't have the £300 a head to recoup. In fact, some smaller charities without guaranteed places might benefit as there would be a higher likelihood of people choosing them rather than the "official" charities with the guaranteed places and official advertising. Above all, it should be an open and transparent entry process with as many places as possible filled through the public ballot.

So I came to a conclusion. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. No more London applications for me.

There are hundreds of marathons out there that people who really want to do one can enter (something else the "commiserations" magazine is rather silent on, with its focus on pushing you to the charity places!), in so many different and interesting places.

So I'll still be doing a spring marathon next year. Sunday May 22nd will see me on the start line of the Edinburgh Marathon. As far as Autumn goes, I think I have some unfinished business in the Le Mans area, so if there's a second running, I'll be there to finish what I started.

In the meantime, I'll just be keeping the legs ticking over with some light to moderate running and maybe looking for a few winter events for some variety.

Well, that didn't go as planned...

The story of The Marathon du Mans is, unfortunately, one of I went, I saw, I packed it in half way round. Having been struggling with what I thought were the edges of a cold for a few weeks, not much was getting better in the days immediately before the race - in fact by the time I got to my Mum's on Thursday to break the journey, I hadn't enjoyed a decent sleep for weeks, was starting to run a bit of a temperature and generally feel decidedly grotty again.

Having decided to break the journey on Thursday, Friday turned into a horrible, horrible drive south. Without a word of a lie, it poured with rain every mile of the way from Yorkshire to the outskirts of Le Mans. What, in normal circumstances, would a reasonable drive turned into an absolute epic - intense concentration every mile of the way so that by the time I reached Le Mans at midnight local time on Friday, I was absolutely spent. This state of affairs, it must be said, was made even worse by the French aversion to cat's eyes and their cunning use of road lining paint that looks black in the dark. The combination of the two meant the French leg of the drive was particularly unpleasant and the concentration levels even higher.

There was bound to be an adverse reaction and I spent a horrible night on the Friday, with a raging fever and very little sleep. Eventually emerged at lunchtime on Saturday, feeling really rough, and decided to mooch around the centre of town before heading out to the circuit to pick up my number. To my slight surprise - as all I've ever seen have been the industrial outskirts - the town centre is lovely. A well laid out combination of medieval and modern buildings, clean and well maintained in the way of so many French provincial towns.

It had been my intention to take the tramway out to the circuit to collect my race pack, but some sort of problem on the line meant that nothing was running out to the Antares arena stop. Grabbed a quick bite of lunch and returned to the stop, only to find that now nothing was running at all. So I ended up jumping in the car and driving the few kilometers out to the circuit. The registration process went like clockwork - only a few minutes were needed to hand over my Medical Certificate (a requirement of races in France), confirm my identity and collect my number and race t-shirt. Wasn't delayed over-long by the 6 stall "expo" but there was a good atmosphere in evidence and a definite sense that this event was about running and enjoyment.

Was still feeling quite rough, so went back to the hotel for a rest before heading out to try and get a final bite to eat before the race. Plenty of nice restaurants in evidence around a very scenic area of streets in the medieval area which, as with most places in France, seemed sensibly priced with 15 to 18€ for two courses being typical. Naturally after 2 weeks of carb loading, I was pretty pasta'd out by this point, so I decided that steak frites was the order of the day, with a small red for relaxation purposes. 

I was still feeling a little rough at this point and had even started to doubt whether I would race. Had it been a local race, I almost certainly wouldn't have done, but after travelling all this way I wanted to leave my options open and decided to wait to see how I felt in the morning. I also had the knowledge that, as a two lap race, I would have the option of pulling out after the first lap if all wasn't well.........

So, I had a reasonably comfortable night on the Saturday and convinced myself that I was feeling OK and fit enough to start the race. After a light breakfast I decided that the tramway issues the previous day might make it a bit of a risk to rely on and therefore jumped into the car and made my way to the circuit.

Arriving just before sunrise evoked magical memories from the 24 Heures, where the pre-dawn light is one of the finest times to enjoy the race. Car parking was well organised just inside the circuit and I parked up overlooking the Bugatti circuit. By this point, I'd convinced myself that whilst I really wasn't 100% well, a sensible slow approach would still get me round. Organisation was spot on, and at 9 sharp the 900 runners were sent on out way. Took it nice and steady to start with as the first few hundred metres were up the hill to the Dunlop Bridge, then into an OK stride down the other side.

I really enjoyed the experience of running on the circuit and ticking off the landmarks, Tertre Rouge, out onto the Hunaudieres (Mulsanne) and past the famous Auberge before the course even took us round the specially opened Playstation Chicane. After this, the route lost it's way a little as the need to get extra distance in to each lap meant we headed out for a 7k loop through industrial parks, back roads and even forest trails. Very scenic, but I dread to think what the underfoot conditions would have been like if the forecast rain had arrived. As it was conditions were warm, muggy and windy. The fact that I sweated up almost immediately after the race began was a bit of a worrying health signal, and a pace of 8:30 miles on entering this loop had become 8:50 by the time we emerged from the woods just before the second chicane on the Mulsanne. 

Again, the organisers had set things up well with water, sponges, fruit and gels every 5k and I was taking a full bottle of water and a sponge every time to try and keep hydration up and temperature down. After hanging a right at Mulsanne Corner and heading towards Indianapolis, I started to realise that I was struggling, gradually slowing and sensing that I was short of energy. I plugged on, but by the time we left the public roads and came back onto the permanent circuit at the Porsche Curves, I was struggling horribly and realised the game was up. 

As we got back to the grandstands, the route took us along the Bugatti circuit (which must be one of the world's dullest!) and through the half marathon point (2:05:25) before rejoining the main circuit in time for a nice climb  at just above walking pace back up to the Dunlop Bridge before dropping down to the pit straight, where I bowed to the inevitable and abandoned. Again, very efficient organisation, as they sent me to the finish area, took my timing chip away and handed me a medal. Almost gave it back on the basis of "didn't finish the race", but what the heck, it's a nice souvenir!

I'm glad I had the discipline to stop when I did. Although I was barely moving forward by this point, it would have been easy to try and push myself stupidly and try to complete. Not sure what damage I'd have done to myself if I'd tried it, but I suspect the answer is "lots". Inevitably I was disappointed, but I also realise I did absolutely the right thing. No race is worth killing yourself over.

And then the real issue was discovered when I took myself off to the Doctor when I got home to be diagnosed with tonsillitis. Which explained just about everything.

So, I have unfinished business with the race, and think I may need to address that next year if it's re-run. Despite some Twitter sniffiness about French organisation levels when I said I was running a first-time event there, I have to say then event was well organised, well marshalled and provisioned and clearly had good medical support in place. About the only questionable part of the event was the aforementioned 7k loop off the Mulsanne which would have been a nightmare in bad weather - I'd prefer to see them do 3 laps of the circuit in the same way that the supporting relay event did. In reality, I wouldn't have a second's hesitation in running there again and very much suspect I'll be writing a post-event blog from there this time next year.

Heading south

Thursday, 9am, and I'm about to start the drive to Le Mans. Less dramas in the final fortnight than last time, so I'm not really worried about actually making the start line this time.

Just got to go and do the race now - feeling a bit mire positive than I was a month ago, but also still suffering from a persistent light cold that just won't sod off.

Got the race details through - 868 runners of which I'm vest 155. There's also a relay with 600 teams if 3 doing a lap of the circuit each, so there'll be a reasonable amount of participants. Although not from the UK. Spotted about 3 other British sounding names on my quick trawl through the entry list!

Here we go!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

OK, here we go...

Or, 1 week and counting...

So, in the finest traditions of not quite getting the final preparations right for a marathon (ref: Icelandic volcanoes), I have been busy not quite getting the final preparations right for this one.

The schedule 2 weeks ago was disrupted on account of various stuff happening at home (loft insulation, cavity walls, nothing exciting...), but contained a for-once decent tempo run at Scotstoun. The planned last long-run on the Sunday had to be abandoned though, as a result of waking up and feeling absolutely grotty - a cold building, sore sinuses, terrible sore head, that sort of thing. This was a royal pain in the ass, as the one thing I felt I needed above all else was one more really long run. Ummed and aahed, almost got changed, then thought "no, don't be stupid". So, that was me finished with the long stuff and officially tapering.

Unfortunately, the cold has lingered all week. Had a good run on the 8 mile loop round the bottom of Glen Fruin on Tuesday, pushed a bit and thought I'd sweated it out of me, but then it came back. Eventually decided that I needed to get out today and get one more decently paced run in, so went round the same loop at even more of a push - fastest time round there for 6 months.
An absolutely beautiful day to be out and about, and the gradual cooling of autumn is certainly helping my level of comfort while running. In good conditions, the Glen Fruin loop is absolutely stunning, as you can probably tell from the picture here, although it is pretty hilly - with over 500ft of ascent in the run.

The last few runs, starting a couple of weeks ago, have been the best in the whole training programme. I'm beginning to feel like I'm approaching a reasonable level of fitness, and I'm reasonable confident of a decent run.

On the minus side, I'm well short of total mileage - 280 in this 16 week programme compared with 450 at the same stage of London training. However, given the weeks I lost at the start and the general feeling of not particularly running well, I suppose I am in a reasonable place. Don't have the same level of tension that I did a week before London, but then I'm not stuck hundreds of miles away wondering whether the bloody volcano's going to pack it in and let me get home.

So, I leave home early on Friday morning, long, long drive down to Le Mans in one day, followed by some relaxation and collection of the race number from the Circuit on Saturday. I'll pop in here from time to time and provide an update.

One last thing. After resolutely refusing to set a target time for this race as a result of all the lost training, after the Great Scottish Run, I selected 8:30 miles as my target pace. This would give a race pace of about 3:45 which would be slightly quicker than London.

So, the target? Quicker than London. If I can do that, after all the problems I've had, I'll be ecstatic.

And, one last thing. It's exactly 51 weeks today since the "You're Running" letter arrived to say I was in the London Marathon. Today's run took me through 1000 miles of running since then. That's what I call a milestone.

Miles since entering Le Mans: 277

Taper, don't talk to me about taper

Or, 3 weeks and counting...

So, 3 weeks to go and supposed to be celebrating the end of the high-intensity training and reduction in mileage that the eagerly anticipated "taper" brings about. Not this time, though. Thanks to the well documented abbreviated nature of this programme, I find myself rather short of both overall miles and, more importantly, runs at the longer distances. So, I must plough on for one more week to get some more serious miles in and the final 22 mile long run. Then it'll be a 2 week taper, with a bigger mileage drop-off than usual to get the required level of rest in. This is when the old mantra "rest is training" comes in handy!

Anyway. The week. Slightly disjointed and not enough miles is a reasonable summary. Didn't make it out for a recovery run until Wednesday and that went a bit mad owing to some Twitter talk about the possibility of running up Ben Nevis (I know...). This led me to turn the part road, part tracks, part woods run round the opposite way and do 500ft straight uphill in a mile and a quarter. Suffice to say I won't be repeating THAT mistake any time soon. Thursday was a Scotstoun day. I've struggled more in getting the Tempo and Speedwork runs done this time than last - I've really not had a good run there for ages. Don't know why, but it just hasn't worked. Perhaps because of the bloody back-straight headwinds, which were out at their most severe on Thursday. For various reason's I didn't have enough time to do a decent run, so just banged in a couple of poor miles and did some 400m and 200m.

Today was the long run I'd cut short a couple of weeks ago - all the way from home to Dalmuir at 19.5 miles. And this time, it was perfect. Yet another warm, sunny day, although autumn is making the temperatures a bit more tolerable, with just a spot of cooling breeze. Anyway, I went out & ran at an almost constant pace of 9 minute miles, just focussing on form and trying to keep a steady pace. By the time I got to 18.5, I still had a little left, so I picked up the pace as much as I could for the last mile. Almost got tempted to add the extra loop to Clydebank in & knock off the 22, but I think I need another significant run in the legs.

So, an odd week with a great long run today. Suddenly, I feel that things are coming together and I have half a chance of a respectable run in Le Mans...

To matters musical, and there's only one song that's been providing inspiration this week:



Week's summary: 3 runs, 28 miles. Long run: 19.5 miles
Miles since entering Le Mans: 255

Great Scottish Run

Or, 4 weeks and counting

Quick update on the Great Scottish Run yesterday. It's always a good plan to have a half marathon about 4 or 5 weeks before a full to get some race training in and look at pacing. Especially with the injury situation and the lack of a fixed target time, I'm still a little unsure about what my pace should be, so I needed to experiment and see how I felt. As with the Alloa half before London, the plan was simple - run at a set pace for the first 10 miles, then push harder for the last 3 - as close to 7 minute miles as I could. Out of nowhere, I plucked 8:20 miles as my target for the day.

It was an odd day - overcast and a little breezy before the start, but sneaky warm. A slightly new route this year, heading out of George Square up the north face of St. Vincent Street, before looping back round and attacking the Kingston Bridge from the west approach. After that, the usual trudge out to Bellahouston (passing several barely remembered sub-crawl hostelries), on to Pollok Park before heading back to Glasgow Green.

Was going about 8:10 for the first couple of miles, and feeling reasonable, but forced myself to ease back as I know that's not a realistic Le Mans pace. Gradually dropped it back to 8:20 and sat at that pace until mile 10. Started to push at that point, but found there wasn't really that much left in the tank - after a 7:12 mile 11, mile 12 was into a morale sapping headwind and significantly slower. Mile 13 about the same, and came home in just over 1:47 - a full 13 minutes behind last year's PB.

The lesson, then, was that 8:20 is a little fast if there wasn't much left in the tank - even though the conditions weren't ideal. So, I now have a target pace and therefore time for Le Mans - 8:30 miles which would be around 3:45 for the full race. That was all I needed out of yesterday's run, so job done!

Out of sequence again

Or, 4 and a bit weeks and counting...

Cutting the training week at this point, as Sunday is the Great Scottish Run half marathon in Glasgow, which I'm running as pure race preparation. First 10 miles at target marathon pace (8:30 miles), then last 3 at as fast as I can manage.

The training this week included a first. Harking back to my old Saturday afternoon hobby of refereeing, I was asked to ref a Charity match between SAIC (ex-employers) and Accenture (to whom most people I worked with transferred after the loss of our major contract). Suffice to say that after a few seasons exclusively running the line, it's something like 4 years since I refereed. A fact those unlucky enough to be taking part must have recognised pretty quickly. I did manage to have an excuse to wear my luminous yellow kit, though. As a training exercise though, it was very interesting. Stuck the Garmin on to see what sort of effort I put in - the result is here. Basically just over 6.5 miles of running at a constant sprint / stop. Completely different from a normal run - different muscle groups, intensities, etc.

Fun though it was, the legs were tired and sore in some odd new places for a couple of days afterwards, resulting in Sunday's planned 20 miler being cut short at 13, especially with a slight tweak in the calf.

A decent recovery on Tuesday, done at a slightly higher pace as I'm aware that I haven't really been stretching myself. Today was supposed to be a Tempo session at Scotstoun, but with the race imminent on Sunday and the weather scorching, I decided that something a little lighter was in order and took myself off round the loop at the bottom of Glen Fruin. It's been an absolutely stunning day here, about 24 degrees and despite my aversion to heat, combined with the hilly nature of the route, this was a great, great run. Not awesomely (or even slightly) fast, but just a wonderful day to be outdoors in unbelievable scenery doing something I'm gradually learning to love again. One of the best runs since London.

In such circumstances, the only possible music choice is my favourite running song. There's something about the way the music (carp pun, sorry) swoops and soars and crescendos that makes it perfect, and on days like today, the "Yeaaahhhh's" get serious laldy. Life affirming. Used it before, but make no apology for using it again.



There may be a short race report on Sunday...

Week's summary: 4 runs, 33 miles: Long run 13 miles
Miles since entering Le Mans: 214

OK, I think I get it now

Or 6(ish) weeks and counting

I think this might be the week (and a bit) that I finally got my head about the next marathon. I've realised that I was thinking too much about London, the training, what I was doing then and measuring myself against that. On Thursday's session at Scotstoun, I did a 5-mile tempo run at 7:20 min miles. Despite the frequent Scotstoun impediment of a headwind down the back straight and the shelter of the stand meaning no tailwind in the home straight, I felt it was crap "was going much faster than that when I was training for London", blah... Then I looked at the last tempo run I did before London, which had similar wind conditions, and it was 7:02 min miles. So perhaps it hadn't been that bad after all.

This has been an extended running week because a jaunt to Edinburgh for some culture, drinks and fun over the weekend knocked the long run back to Tuesday. In the gap over the weekend, I did some reappraising and realised that this isn't about London any more, it's about Le Mans. Rather than looking back and comparing everything I do unfavourably, I should be concentrating on getting the best, most sensible preparation in for Le Mans, at whatever pace I can manage. If I do that, he race will look after itself.

With this newly positive frame of mind, I headed out on the delayed long run on Tuesday, picking up an extension of last week's run to loop through Garelochead and bring it up to just over 18 miles. As the morning's rain stopped 10 minutes before I went out, the sun broke through and the temperature was pleasantly cool, it felt like things were coming together and it was the first run I could really enjoy for ages. I sailed up Glen Fruin and the hill at then end, then away towards Coulport. Only on the steep downhill into Garelochead did I start to feel the legs, and I gradually slowed along the lochside before the usual struggle up the hills to home. But I determined I wasn't going to let the pace worry me and I knew that this was the last long run with hills, as the rest will now be on the nice flat cycle path and canal towpath to Dalmuir.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to be repetitions with the lift from the playlist this week, because I used to Boss last week and I think I've also used this song way back in the London prep somewhere. But I gives me the chance to drag out some footage from the excellent London Calling DVD which, let us not forget, was recorded the night after this 60 year old man played his usual 3 hour set at Glastonbury. Think about the energy involved in THAT. Mainly, though, it's one of the all-time great concert openers, a good start to each run and features what's just about my favourite lyric...



"For the ones who had a notion, a notion deep inside
That it ain't no sin to be glad you're alive"

Love it

Week's summary: 4 runs, 37 miles: Long run 18.3 miles
Miles since entering Le Mans: 181

Getting there. Well, getting somewhere

Or, 7 weeks and counting

One last week of gently-gently build up is out of the way. Pain free (well, pain free in the areas that have been the problem) and a big step up in the longer run, so I've now committed to a proper programme for Le Mans. 7 weeks, in reality, is only going to be 5 of serious training to allow for some form of taper at the end - and even that's cut down from the usual 3 weeks.

So I sat down and charted a schedule - 4 days of running a week with a spin, a gym and a rest day. One run will be Tempo or speedwork, one recovery and one at target pace. Which means I need to decide a target pace - something that I haven't allowed myself the luxury of doing so far. Forget 8 minute miles for 3:30. 8:30 would be just under 3:45, 9:00 just under 4:00.

I'm feeling fairly comfortable running around 8:30 pace on short to medium runs, so we'll take that as the starting point. Worth remembering that this is over 30 secs a mile slower that I was running 4-5 months ago, but it's all so different this time. First thing, it's simply a matter of all the miles I've missed. At this stage for London I'd done over 260 miles - this time around 140. I just don't have the miles in my legs, and I'm not going to go mad by doing silly miles-a-week. Secondly, as I've mentioned before, I simply don't like the heat when I'm running and I reckon warm conditions leave me 15-20 secs a mile slower.

So, I'm being realistic. Conservative, perhaps, but at the moment it's about getting to the start and getting round in a reasonable time. 8:30 miles would actually give me a PB after my late-race issues in London, so at least there's a small carrot there.

The week was quite straight forward. Back to Scotstoun on Thursday for some speedwork - just two miles at 6:27 and 6:34, but also chucked in a 1:30 400m and a 34 sec 200m. Today was a big step up on the long run - something that is going to characterise the remainder of the programme - 20% a week increases with no real  chance to repeat. Chose a 15.5 mile loop round Glen Fruin, breaking off at the hill at the top of the Glen and looping round to the naval base at Faslane, before coming home along the side of Gare Loch and almost coming to a stop on the 2 mile slog uphill to the house.

It was an absolutely stunning day - completely cloud-free, sunny and very, very warm. Despite the discomfort, it was difficult not to enjoy being out on such a day. So I enjoyed it as much as I could, drank in the views, but spent some time cursing the hills that feature throughout the route. Legs were pretty much shot by the time I got home, but that's to be expected at this stage. 2:24 was about 8 minutes off the pace I'd done the route before, which wasn't bad considering the conditions (weather AND me!).

Musically, it's Boss Time. Been listening to a lot of Springsteen recently, so I'm going back to the playlist for one of the songs that's guaranteed to put a spring in the step and get a bit of air-drumming going.



So, there you go. Definitely doing this thing now, so better get serious about the training and preparation. Pass me another Sauvignon Blanc...

Week's summary: 3 runs, 26 miles: Long run 15.5 miles
Miles since entering Le Mans: 143

OK, let's try this one more time

Or, 8 weeks and counting...

This is getting close. Really close. When I left you last, I was under the physio (steady...) and trying to rest sufficiently before having one last bash at getting some training together. Well, I waited a further week and restarted the training at the start of this week.

Gingerly. Very gingerly. Having decided it's all about survival now, I did a very gentle 4 miles on Tuesday and was please to have no adverse reaction. Thursday saw a slightly more ambitious 8 miles on my loop round the bottom of Glen Fruin, but done in the opposite direction to usual to shorten (but steepen) the hills - uphill being the time the calf has been least happy.

Another thing I've been thinking about is my running posture. Something the physio said in passing, about leaning forward and "chasing the head" made me realise that's exactly how I've run. In reality, it's not something I've ever thought about - I just went out and ran - but given the strains running puts on the body and the inflexibility my joints and muscles have shown, I realised I need to actually concentrate on this. Hence I've been trying to be more upright - hips and shoulders back and try to keep the centre of gravity over the feet. No idea if it makes any difference, but at least the calf behaved.

Time for a further step-up today, then. Decided on the 13 miles over to Loch Lomond, down the Leven to Dumbarton and get the train home. Beautiful warm day with plenty of nice sun and  humidity. Lovely if you like that sort of thing. Not, if you don't. I don't when I'm running. But it was a nice steady plod at 8:50 pace, feeling comfortable with the general fitness, but the legs were quite heavy.

Think the general fitness has been helped by my new hobby, spinning. To the uninitiated this involves riding a static exercise bike until a state of exhaustion is achieved, using a combination of sprints, climbs and squats, accompanied by high-tempo music and a hectoring instructor. Oh, and a slick of sweat that put's BP's effort in the Gulf of Mexico to shame. It's messy. But fun.

Other than the general lack of running, I don't think the legs were helped by yesterday's day out, when Mrs T announced "why don't we do this (hands over guidebook...) walk up Ben Ledi". A brief glance at the salient points of the route description - 2883 ft, "strenuous", "steep", "exerting" - did make me wonder whether she'd actually read it, but anyway, off we went. It was a lovely walk, not particularly strenuous, steep or exerting. I thought. Others differed. If you Google "Ben Ledi slowest ever ascent" I think you'll find us. But as always with hills, "down" puts a lot more strain on the legs and they were fairly tired by the time we got back to the car. Not too tired for a swift pint in Callander, mind.

Anyway, the run got done, there were no adverse side effects, and I just about seem to be in a position where I can try and put together an abbreviated programme for Le Mans. Which is about all I could have hoped for if I'm honest. Going to take a pragmatic approach and build the long runs up by 2-3 miles a time, get some tempo and speedwork done and a couple of other runs each week. I'm NOT going to go mad and try to cram in all the miles I've missed in the last 8 weeks. I'd just get injured again, and that would be the end of it. So more miles, sensibly done, this week and we'll see what happens.

Music. Hmm. Getting quite excited about the imminent appearance of the new Manics album, which is getting great advance copy. The last three have surpassed each other and if this first single is anything to go by "Postcards from a Young Man" is going to be even better.



Oh and, of course, the opening night of the supporting tour at the O2 Academy in Glasgow. I'll be there...

Week's summary: 3 runs, 25 miles: Long run 12.9 miles
Miles since entering Le Mans: 118

Thank You

It's now three months since London, so my JustGiving page has expired. Thanks to the generosity of all my donors, I raised £1190.62 which, with Gift Aid, became £1502.46. I, and Marie Curie, would like to thank everyone who donated. It makes a huge difference, and I'm very grateful.

In other news this week, having barely been able to walk on Monday owing to the sore left calf after Sunday's run I did nothing until a gentle jog on Thursday. Unfortunately a mile in the calf did the "two spasm and tighten" routine so I had to mooch home in a state of some annoyance.

By now, completely fed up by the whole thing, I decided to pick up the card for a local sports physio that a GP had give me and give her a call. Toddled off on Friday morning for the first consultation and it was quite a revelation. As the last few problems haven't been tears, she felt that it was almost certainly issues in the whole bio-mechanical system, and the complex interrelationships between the various parts of the body, that were simply manifesting themselves in the calves.

After a brief examination, it was decreed that I had a huge degree of stiffness and inflexibility (stop sniggering at the back...) in my - neck, shoulders, back, hamstrings, calves. Which amounts to pretty well everywhere, actually. Thus, a pleasant hour was spent with various limbs being contorted at angles they were really rather unhappy about and a set of long, slow stretches for me to try at home was handed out.

The theory is that the more flexibility and less tension there is in the body when running, the more the muscles can cope with the strain of having to handle X-times bodyweight being transmitted through them on every stride. So, we'll do the exercises, have a couple more consultations and see what transpires.

No more running this week as I try and allow a bit more recovery time, but it's now 10 weeks to Le Mans. If it starts to get much closer without being able to pick up the mileage, a serious decision about whether I can do it is going to be needed.

Abnormal service has been resumed

Or, 11 weeks and counting...

Just as it's proven that 76.3% of all statistics are invented on the spot, so 84% of all blog entries have been shown to begin "Sorry, but I haven't been updating this as often as I should...". Guilty as charged. The main reason being that I haven't done much running for a couple of weeks.

Had a really bad session at Scotstoun in the heat and humidity two and a half weeks ago, which led to much "why can't I run any more" and "don't know if I can do this again" soul-searching. Being far behind where I was at the same stage training for London, I was acutely aware that my concerns about knowing and fearing what was in store were coming to fruition. A wise man advised me to take a complete break for a while, recharge and come back to it. This wasn't too difficult, as last week was my annual spell marshalling at the Barclays Scottish Open at Loch Lomond Golf Club - spending 5 days standing on the grandstand at the 18th green pretty much precludes any running anyway. As does spending hours in front of the telly watching the Tour de France - I love the ebb and flow of the long stage races, and although Le Tour isn't quite as brutal as this year's Giro, it's been a thriller.

So, after the rest & recharge, time to get going again. Acutely aware that I'm well behind the curve from London, I'm determined not to make the classic mistake of overtraining or jumping back in to a too-ambitious point in the 16-week schedule and getting injured again. Thus I'm going to build up slowly and see where I get to. The week started with a very slow 5 miler just to get used to running again, followed by a trip to my nemesis at Scotstoun for was supposed to be a 5 mile Tempo at 7:06. Something I would have hoovered up without thinking about 4 or 5 months ago and slower than the spring 10k's. But, again it was humid and with the back-straight headwind, so I struggled round 4 miles in 7:30. Painfully slow - that used to be my "just go out for a run" pace - but a good indicator of just how far I have to go.

Hence all thoughts of times and PB's have been put to one side and my objective now is to get into shape to do a reasonable run and try to enjoy the experience. At this stage, I'm holding the thoughts that my injuries came later in the London preparation and that the last few weeks were rather disrupted. If I can stay injury free and just keep building, I won't be too far away from where I was, say, 2 or 3 weeks before London, when I was probably at my best.

In the spirit of getting back into it, the "long run" restarted today, with a 12-miler - again, less than the programme for this week, but necessary as a reintroduction to being out that long. A reasonably pleasant day for a trip over the hills to Loch Lomond and down the Leven to Dumbarton, but for the heat-averse it was both sunny and humid - in fact the only sunny weather of the day was the 2 hours or so I was out!. With the new hydration "strategy" in place (500ml bottle with me and extra energy gels), it wasn't too bad, considering it's my first time above 8 miles since London. However, my left calf was really tight all the way, so it was little more than a shuffle - I was pleased to subscribe to the "slow" bit of the long/slow. Just under 9 minute miles is about 20-30 seconds off the pace I was doing the long runs before, but as a reintroduction in conditions that don't really suit me, it just about got the job done.

Mucking about with the long run playlist too - decided to increase the variety of artists beyond the original 4. Catching up with a lot of this mob's back catalogue at the moment, and loving this song - Muse: Starlight



One of those lyrics that, if I could write lyrics, I could have easily written. If you follow...

Week's summary: 3 runs, 23 miles: Long run 12.25 miles
Miles since entering Le Mans: 93

Anyway, back to business

Or, 15 weeks and counting.

So, after last week's protracted diversion into the minutiae of endurance motorsport, we return this week to a a more usual subject: random running around in the west of Scotland. Or, this week, "the boiling hot west of Scotland".

Phew, it's been warm and, as I alluded to a few weeks ago, the heat and me have an uneasy relationship when it comes to running. I tend to overheat quite badly, and as a result performance drops off a cliff. As a result I've rethought my hydration strategy, so whereas in the winter I would take a 250ml drink bottle out on runs of over 13 miles, this week it's accompanied me on every run. I will be going up to a 500ml bottle for longer runs and using energy gels more often.

The downside of the gels is that they can sit rather uncomfortably on the stomach and cause cramps, nausea or, in the case of Wednesday's run, the growing realisation at 4 miles that a toilet break of a significant nature is required. Fortunately I was in the middle of nowhere - a deserted single-track country lane with a tall screening wall available. It's all very ecologically sound. Dig out a hole with a handy rock; hunker down and attend to the business; remember that dock leaves have uses beyond soothing nettle stings; re-fill hole with the excavated soil. You'd never know I was there. The view down to Arran was stunning too...

Anyway, sorry if I've put you off your tea. The rest of the week saw me try a new run - downhill from the house to the Academy, along the front and back up the hills at the far end of town. A reasonable 5 and a bit miles, which will be a good route for recovery runs, but done at a slightly higher pace this week and suffering in the heat coming back up the hills.

Another change to the schedule is that Sunday will be the long run day for the foreseeable future, as the golf season is upon us and there's usually some competition or other on a Saturday, plus a couple of pints and a bacon roll afterwards. Today however, rather than a training run, was the Men's Health Forum Scotland 10k for Men in Glasgow. A right mouthful, and the last of my scheduled early-summer 10k's. Having dipped my PB again to 43:24 in Dumbarton a couple of weeks ago, the plan was to see what could be done today to lower it further. Yet again, it was hot - 17 degrees at 9am, but just a hint of a breeze to take the edge off it.

With the spooky correlations of the number 45 at the Alloa Half Marathon in March (see here), I was pleased to see my number, 270, was a multiple of 45. It was slightly spooky, though, to meet up with a former colleague, Paul McGreevy, with whom I intended to run, and find that he was wearing 269 despite us entering completely independently. Actually, when I say "run with", what I mean is "shamelessly use his superior fitness to try and haul myself round to a PB".

All started well and by 7k I was just about holding on to a PB pace - albeit perspiring and gasping furiously -  when, on the gentle rise out of Pollok Country Park, my right calf spasmed a couple of times and tightened immediately. Waving Paul on, I jogged gently home to finish in 46:24.

Slightly vexed, after the occasional injury problems during preparation for London, to hit one in week one when I'd hoped for a clearer run. However, that's life. I have a couple of enforced days rest anyway, with a job interview on Tuesday, so I'll just wait and see how things are in the middle of next week.

Going to keep the music choices going for the time being too. I've used this one before, but it's perked my mood up a couple of times this week when I've been feeling a grouchy.



Week's summary: 3 runs, 20 miles: Long run 7.8 miles (plus slight toilet detour)
Miles since entering Le Mans: 62

If I may digress for a moment

Or, 16 weeks and counting...

So, this is it. The start of the 16 week training programme for the Le Mans marathon. So this week's blog is about Le Mans - or, specifically, the long weekend my son (aka The Boy) and I have just enjoyed at the 24 Heures du Mans.

The 24 Heures has to be one of the greatest annual sporting events. It's history and traditions place it with the Monaco Grand Prix and Indianapolis 500 at the pinnacle of motorsport, but the sheer length and distance covered (over 5000km) place it a step ahead in my book.

On top of that, there are the legends. The Bentley Boys. The 1953 Jaguars being reinstated after a technical infringement, by which time the drivers were allegedly drunk in a bar and proceeded to race to victory fuelled by occasional brandy top-ups. The flying Mercedes' of 1999 with Mark Webber and legendarily Peter Dumbreck in the race bringing a whole new meaning to car aerodynamics. The tragic disaster of 1955 where hundreds in the stands lost their lives.

Part of the fun of course is the annual exodus from the UK, with over 100,000 people travelling to the event every year. Often in exotic vehicles at speeds that make the Gendarmerie very unhappy. Didn't see much this year, except the McLaren F1 which we spotted several times over the weekend, firstly at the Channel Tunnel terminal. This is, let us not forget, a car that is capable of 240 mph and which will sell for something between £1.5 and £2.5 million.

We travelled south on Friday and enjoyed the fact that the peage toll booth controllers were on strike on Friday, affording us a free journey down to Amiens (nice, you should go). In true French style, despite being on strike, they had still turned up at the exit booths and were gleefully waving people through.

On Saturday morning we trundled down more empty (but non-gratuit) peage and arrived in the vicinity of the circuit by 1130. As you can imagine, the complications of getting 250,000 people into not many car parks does lead to a little traffic congestion. Having sat in one queue for half an hour, we decided to try a little diversion and got to the car park (after an extra lap caused by overshooting the entrance) by about 1pm. 90 minutes to do 5k! Into the circuit and a last minute decision to grab a grandstand ticket owing to a poor weather forecast saw us in a great spot directly above the pit lane for the last hour of build up.

Whilst the traditional Le Mans start, with the drivers running across the circuit and leaping into their cars before driving off, was abandoned many years ago for safety reasons, a variant had been devised this year. Cars lined up on the pit wall, drivers opposite, and at the appointed moment the drivers ran across the circuit and entered the car, with a few minutes to make sure all was well before the green flag sent them out on an exploratory lap.

The cars then formed behind the safety car for the now usual rolling start. The sense of anticipation on this last lap is immense, and the packed tribunes are all on their feet as the Tricoleur drops and cars take the start at 3pm sharp. Straight away the much fancied Peugeot diesel's blast away from the Audis and satart to build a lead. Then, just over half an hour in, we get the first safety car as Nigel Mansell suffers a tyre blow-out and spears into the wall on the hugely fast run down to Indianapolis corner.

The length of the lap at Le Mans (13.2km) means that three safety cars are deployed and, just like the post office, getting caught in the queue behind the wrong car can put you a minute or more behind the cars you're racing against. Thus the Audis got separated from the Peugeots and an already difficult race seemed to have got worse for them. This went on for a while as Mansell was extracted from the car by the medical staff and it was nearly 4.30 before racing recommenced.

The Boy and I decide to take a wander down to Tetre Rouge, the last corner before the cars hit the Hunaudieres (or Mulsanne) straight - once nearly 4 miles long before the introduction of two chicanes designed to slow the frightening top speeds of 250mph. This part of the circuit has been completely reprofiled since our last visit, and the row of allotments where locals offered you a barbecue and beer has sadly been replaced by a grass viewing bank.

In the absence of a view, we made our way back to the bottom of the Esses, where we watched the plunge down from the Dunlop bridge. For the potential marathon runner, the rises up to the bridge provide the only significant hill on the course. In the late evening sunshine, it was a great spot to watch some racing before heading back to the car park to cook some steaks before returning to our grandstand to enjoy some night racing.

One of the great things about the 24 heures is the night racing and  as the temperatures are cooler, the lap times are often faster. By now, the fact that there are two distinct words in "endurance racing" was becoming obvious. One of the super-fast Peugeots had dropped out with suspension failure and as we watched above the pit, a second, the #1, was wheeled back into the garage for a major fix - reappearing 12 minutes later and 3 laps down. Being directly above the pits we can get a feel for the ebb and flow of competition as cars come in. Eventually we decide that we've had enough for one day and we retreat to the car for some sleep.

Up early on Sunday, bacon cooked, and onto the free shuttle bus out to Arnage and Indianapolis corners at the far end of the circuit. My first time out here, and it has a much different feel from the area around the pits. Much quieter and with people somehow trying to kip in sleeping bags on the grass no more than 10 yards from the passing cars. Just as we headed out, the leading Peugeot expired with an engine failure whilst a lap ahead, leaving the Audis to inherit positions one and two

Peugeot could have consolidated a podium position for #1, but decided to go for it. This brought some great excitement for a few hours, as it hunted down the leading Audis at 5-10 seconds a lap, unlapping itself from the leader and then closing up to the tail of the second place car. Sadly, just after a pit stop, the #1 also blew its engine, leaving an Audi clean sweep. Or so it seemed. The Oreca #4 car, also running a Peugeot was closing fast on the third place Audi of Alan McNish and Le Mans legend Tom Kristensen. There was still some racing to be had. But then, unbelievably, the Oreca also suffered an engine failure when only 20 seconds behind.

And so, 90 minutes from the end, the racing was over and it was down to the Audis to coast to the end for a formation finish. It seemed harsh on Peugeot to not get a car home, but that's endurance racing - you need to get your cars to the finish and Peugeot didn't. As always, every car that makes it to the finish has achieved something big, and the emotions of those who failed were clear. After looking like we were in for a good morning's racing, the end was almost an anti-climax for the crowd and as the Audi's rolled over the line at 3pm, there seemed to be plenty of spaces in the tribunes - ours was certainly no more than 80% full.

Of the rest, the Gulf-liveried Aston Martin's were definitely the best looking and best sounding cars out there, with a proper high-rev petrol engine's scream. Unfortunately #009 blew it's engine while running 4th in the last hour whilst #007 lost 20+ laps with a major problem overnight. In the other categories (there are 4 at Le Mans, 2 for Prototypes, 2 for more standard GT cars) there was much tighter competition, although oddly the new regulations for the GT1 category meant that these supposedly more powerful cars managed to finish behind their less powerful GT2 cousins.

We decided that as we were heading back to Amiens, an almost 3 hour journey, we wouldn't join the traditional invasion of the pit straight, but would leg it directly out of the circuit and head off. This was a good move as, 45 minutes after the chequered flag dropped, we'd cleared Le Mans and were on the peage north.

Oddly, every motorway bridge seemed to have a small group of people on it looking south. I know this part of northern France is pretty dull and featureless, but surely there's something better to do on a Sunday afternoon than stand and watch the cars go by. Then we saw a couple of Union Jacks and twigged. The locals come out to watch all the crazy Brits in their fancy cars blast back up to Calais.

So that was the first trip to Le Mans of the year. The preparation for the October visit starts here.

The calm...

Or, 18 weeks and counting...

The main difference between this marathon and the last one is clearly going to be when the training happens. Most people talk about the problem with London being that you have to train through the winter. I didn't find this too much of a problem to be honest, as I love the cold, crisp days and even tolerated some biblically bad ones. As I cope with the cold pretty well, it was never a problem.

I'm not a huge fan of running when it's hot, as the downside of tolerating the cold well is tending to overheat when it's warm. On top of that, there seem to be more distractions in the summer. I play golf, so I have a competition most Saturdays, and love Formula 1 - which takes up a reasonable chunk of Sunday when there's a Grand Prix on. This is going to make scheduling the long run more complicated. I've also spent a lot of hours watching the Giro d'Italia, which has been epic this year, and will almost certainly be parked in front of the Tour de France when it starts in July.

Anyway, I've recalculated the training programme, gulped, and realised that actually knowing what to expect is perhaps worse than the blissful ignorance of 6 months ago.

Quiet week on the roads this week. Still protecting the foot, so nothing before the Clydebank 10k on Thursday and no weekend run for the reasons described above.

At least Clydebank went well. Despite it being a dull trudge of a couple of laps round a business park, it is a good PB course as it's flat. My plan this week was to start at a pace that would get me sub-44 minutes, see if the foot held up and then, if it did, see if I would hold up in my newly fitness-lite state.

Well, it seemed to work. Using my friendly Garmin, I was able to pace myself perfectly, and even though it was a bit of a struggle got round in 43:46, which is a new PB by about 30 seconds. The Garmin trace is here. I was, in the Scottish vernacular "blowin' oot ma erse" at the end, as I had to give it "full bananas" on the finishing straight to be sure of sub-44. Obviously I was pleased with the time, but moreso that there was no reaction from the foot at all.

Dumbarton 10k this Thursday, plus I really should do a couple of other runs. Now the Giro's over, there's nothing to distract me of an afternoon, so no excuses...

Reflections

Or, 19 weeks and counting...

So, 4 weeks on from the big day, I though it was time to both reflect and look forward. When we last met, I was still on the euphoria high of having completed the event, done a respectable time and enjoyed a great life experience. I still feel the same. I may have just about stopped lacing every conversation with marathon references and the finisher's T-Shirt only comes out once or twice a week, but there's still that warm glow thinking about it. And the almost £1200 raised for Marie Curie. Thank's again folks.

And, of course, the preparations. As I alluded to in here somewhere, I came to realise that forcing myself to stick to the discipline of the programme and actually see it through was unusual for me. More of a starter than a finisher, so I finally proved to myself that I can see things through.

I also proved a useful athletic fact, as witnessed by this photograph. In a tight sprint finish, a fists clenched salute is more aerodynamic than a hands spread one. If only runner 52080 had known this, he may have prevailed :-)

It is, of course, one of the rarest of photographs. A race photo where I don't look like I've just been kicked hard in the nuts. I must really have been enjoying myself.

Thing's I'd do differently? I'd try not to hit a run of leaving do's (including my own) at a crucial part of the late training and perhaps be more cautious about taking a holiday 2 weeks before the event. I should probably have done a few more miles in the taper weeks too, but these are all valuable lessons for next time.

Next time? But of course. The ballot for next year has been entered, but we have to wait until the end of September to find out whether we're in or not. In the meantime, what to do to fill that marathon-sized hole in my life?

I returned from London with many leaflets for the Autumn marathon season, but one in particular caught my attention. As an occasional visitor the the magnificent event that is the 24 Heures du Mans, plus driver of parts of the circuit on our Sucata adventures, the thought of running a marathon round there really caught my attention. Then I found out that this year's event would be the first to be held there.

So, for a motorsport fan and (now) marathoner, what could be better than running the inaugural marathon at one of the world's greatest sporting venues. Well, not much, as far as I'm concerned. So I am. Sunday October 3rd will see me on the start line for the Marathon du Mans. This, of course, means that a training programme will be required, so I need to get my ass into gear and start running again.

The one downside of London has been a very sore right foot, which felt initially like a stress fracture, but I've been assured isn't. I tried to run 2 weeks ago and made it about half a mile before having to turn around in pain. Tried again last Sunday, and while it was still sore, I managed 5.75 hilly offroad miles without too much discomfort. This was welcome, as I'd entered the Polaroid 10k series, which covers Helensburgh, Clydebank, Dumbarton and Vale of Leven. And Helensburgh was on Thursday.

Having decided the foot would survive, I wandered down with the idea of running sensibly, not least because no runs in 4 weeks makes Mark a horribly unfit boy. Of course, nothing like that happened, and race fever took over, which led to me pushing about as hard as I could for a 44:51 - about 2 minutes faster than I'd been targeting (and that was before I knew about the extra hills on the route).

But I needed a good hard run, so nothing lost. Went out today for the first real "just go and enjoy" run since London. Although with the heat and humidity, enjoy wasn't really the word. The route was particularly hilly, and after 2 miles of uphill at 4.5 miles, I decided to take the opportunity to stop and enjoy the view. Over the Clyde, up Glen Fruin. Remember, this is running, not training, so look up and remember why you run in the first place - love of being in the outdoors and the enjoyment of it. As I dwelled, a pair of Buzzards soared and swooped overhead, chirping and calling in an obvious courtship ritual, before heading for the woods and whatever it is a pair of lovelorn buzzards get up to in to woods on a warm spring day.

As I jogged on, I worked out that, to my surprise, it's only 19 weeks to the Marathon du Mans. Then, to my horror, that as I operate a 16 week training schedule, I need to start again in 3 weeks. Bollocks. Finally, I realised that the programme will start on June 14th. Which is the day I get home from, yes, you guessed it, this year's 24 Heures du Mans - where my son (aka The Boy) and I are going for a spot of male bonding and dicking around.



On that spooky symmetry, it's "a bientot" from me...

What a day

To slightly paraphrase the immortal words of Sir Edmund Hillary, "well, that's the bastard knocked off". An amazing day, an amazing event, an amazing feeling. Oh, and the hardest thing I've ever done in my life! Up front, I didn't make my target time, but to be honest, that's barely important right now.

After I left you this morning, an untroubled but rather busy commute got me to the Blue Start just after 0815. Plenty of time to loosen off, dump the kit bag, drink and warm up. They got us into the start pens (organised by expected time, I was in 4) just after 9, at which point the heavens opened and it absolutely pissed down for 20 minutes. Just like home. As soon as they take the tapes down and let the pens merge, much jostling and use of the grass verge ensues, and I ended up alongside a load of Pen 2 people. Lots of chat and banter all the way, a general longing for steak, chips and beer, and hearty "good lucks" all round.

0945 and we're off. Desperately trying to keep the pace sensible, which is actually quite easy becasue of the sheer number of runners. A quick dash to the loos at 2 miles (lesson lerned - go before, even if you have to leave the start pen. It's quicker to pass a few people than lose a minute in the loo) and I settled into a very steady pace, with 5ks in just under 25 minutes as I slowly brought myself back to bang on target pace by half way.

Or at least, what Garmin thought was target pace. As I checked the distance against the mile markers, it became apparent that with all the weaving across the road to find clear air, I was running slightly more than the posted distance, so I still needed some mental arithmetic at each mile marker to double check.

No real dramas in the first half, other than a slightly sore knee around Cutty Sark that soon passed. Just as I went over the half in 1:45:20, the men's leader came the other way, just passing the 22 mile marker. As I plodded on at my target pace, I was feeling OK, but it was pretty sticky and humid after the rain, and as the sun started to peek through it got pretty hot.

All was going well until 15 miles, when the top of my left thigh started to tighten rather horribly - the muscle that runs across the top of the anterior thigh from just under the groin. This area of my leg is often stiff during long runs, but never to this extent. Within half a mile or so, it was clear that I was going to need to slow down to see if it settled. It didn't, so Plan B was dusted down. The one that says "don't do any damage, ease off the pace and bring the vehicle home in one piece".

I hobbled on, in a fairly unseemly gait until mile 19, whereupon my bowels informed me that a "Paula" was in the offing. Fortunately some portaloos hove into view at this point, and I spent 4 minutes attending to matters. Oddly, when I came out, the thigh seemed to have settled a bit and I was able to push on at a slightly better pace for the next few miles. It started to tighten again around mile 24, but by this point you're starting to think "made it" and can afford to push on through the soreness. The appearance of Big Ben on the skyline constitutes the "not far now moment", and turning off the Embankment at  mile 25, I was starting to sport a smile and build up the sprint finish (officially the world's slowest, to be fair).

The last mile is just unbelievable. Up Birdcage Walk, the crowds (of whom more later) are so noisy it's untrue. The smile becomes a big grin as 600m to go appears, and that longed for right turn at the Palace is taken. Mustering the last reserves of energy for the final blast up The Mall I must be honest, I was feeling pretty euphoric. Slightly worried that the race photos will show this exhausted loon encouraging the crowds to greater cheering. I was absolutely ecstatic to cross the line - both because it was over and I'd done it.

So. My time? 3:52:20, officially. 8716th finisher and 1034th in the MV45-49 category. Well outside my target, but still under 4 hours, which I am very proud of. The splits of 1:45:20 and 2:07:00 tell the story of the race, the leg and the pit stop. Oh, and Garmin reckoned I did 26.75 miles. Just what you need.

The finish procedure is simple. Man snips timing chip of shoe. Woman presents medal. Man takes "Finisher" photograph. Wander up The Mall and recover Kit Bag.  All done in about 10 mins. Then it was off to the Marie Curie reception at the Charing Cross hotel for a shower, massage and refreshments. And that's it. The day is done.

Now, some other thoughts. The event itself is simply unbelievable. The organisation is like clockwork, the huge number of volunteers - without whom there'd be no race - are exceptional, and the crowds, well, there are almost no words to describe them. Every yard of the route is lined with enthusiastic, smiling and supportive people. Whether just encouraging, handing out sweets or fruit or bantering, they're special. Around the major landmarks like Cutty Sark and Tower Bridge they're 10 deep. Even round the canyons of Canary Wharf. it's mobbed, and from there to the finish they just build in numbers and support.

I simply can't express how much I enjoyed the day. The run could have been better, but so what, other marathons are available. But I don't think the day or the experience could. I'm very proud to be able to say "I am a Marathoner".

0 days and no more counting

Or, today's the day.

Well. Here we are. This is what all the training, talking, training, blogging, training and tweeting has been about. It's just before 7, I've eaten a light breakfast of bread and cereals, drunk some water and some Lucozade Sport. It looks dray and as if the cloud is going to break up nicely.

There's nothing else for it. I have to go and do this.

Race plan is simple. Steady pace all the way round and remember that if I start slow because of the sheer number of runners, I've got LOTS of miles to make it steadily back to target pace. That's all I've got.

Thanks again to everyone for all their support. Family, friends, colleagues, Facebookers, Tweeters. It's all been invaluable.

The hotel made sure it's evening menu had high carb options last night, which was a nice move. Thai Fishcakes with noodles followed by my first ever vegetarian main course of Tagliatelle & Courgette with a Basil & Tomato sauce - yummy - and I did allow myself a small but relaxing glass of Rioja to help with the nerves (it did).

To my immense surprise, I slept great - best sleep for about a fortnight. Woke just before 6 feeling refreshed, so I didn't need any of the 3 alarms scattered across the room OR the alarm call (paranoid, moi?).

As London Underground and SouthEastern trains provide free travel for competitors, the immediate future goes: walk to Westminster, Jubilee line to London Bridge, train to Blackheath, dump the kit bag, use the toilet 23 times, start.

After that, who knows?

1 day and counting

Or, Why do I keep counting?

So, I made it!!!! In London, registered, race number (here it is) locked in the safe in the room and just waiting now.

For once, the gods of transport smiled kindly on me and I made an untroubled journey south yesterday - even half an hour early into Heathrow. That's not the sort of thing that happens every day.

After checking in at my hotel (which includes a very nice iMac in every room, upon which this missive is being typed) I headed straight off to the registration expo at the ExCel centre in the Docklands. Despite the fears of huge queues, I managed to get registered and have my number and timing chip in my hand within 5 minutes of walking through the door.

The rest of the exhibition is a kind of runner heaven, wandering a hall full of suppliers of every kind of clothing, footwear, nutritional aid, gadget and training methodology you can find. There appear, for example, to be about 3,487 different types of running sock available and more things made of clingy Lycra than is strictly decent. I managed to restrict myself to a t-shirt, a fleece, and a surprising quantity of Lucozade Sport. There's the obligatory pasta party too.

All the charities have stands there and I managed to get my vest swapped for a more realistic size (Large?, cheeky buggers) by the nice people at Marie Curie, who also let me know that they can courier us to the post-race reception by bicycle rickshaw if the aching limbs can't face it. Nice. There are also representatives from other races there to publicise their event, and I appear to have collected approximately 20 of them. I really should know better.

Having said that, the Marathon du Mans, running round the circuit of the great 24 hour sports car race, looks fun. As does the Marrakech Marathon. And the Tromso Polar Night Half Marathon (at night, good chance of seeing Aurora Borealis). And the Marathon des Alpes-Maritimes (Nice-Cannes). I have a horrible feeling I may be developing a bug - although if you ask me again in about 28 hours,  the answer may be different.

Today shall be a day of (almost) rest. Didn't get quite the sleep I was looking for last night, but a gentle stroll around the shops is the order of the day. Plenty of water, plenty of carbs, use the walk to loosen off the legs that haven't run for over a week.

And, finally, I have been putting together an hour's music for tomorrow morning to help me chill and focus. All by The Music, who haven't featured as much as I expected in the videos on here, despite them writing some of the songs that connect most with me. Also, because there aren't many videos floating around out there. This is another of those home-made YouTube jobs, but this will be the last song I play before dumping the iPod in the kitbag and heading to the start.



More later...

2 days and counting

Or, here we go...

I'm home. Got back around 0100 this morning after a 22 hour day and, after 5 hours sleep, I'm up and about making preparations to head south for the big event. Got the boarding pass, got the shoes, the kit, the nerves, the vest, the giant Marie Curie daffodil costume (OK, that's  not true). Game On.

Still struggling to believe it's going to happen, but I suppose I have to and start getting my mental preparation sorted out. For some last amusement, I see they're shutting some of the far northern airports again because of ash, but I guess I could probably drive there now!

Starting to feel some nerves, or is it excitement, or perhaps both. The plan is to try and register at ExCel tonight to avoid the rush tomorrow, which will hopefully give me a day to recharge and recover some of the sleep I've lost in the last week. Not much physically to do now, other than a brief loosener tomorrow to check the legs still work.

So, as I head off I will leave you with one last piece of music. Some of you will know I'm a longstanding fan of Canadian band Rush, and there's really only one piece of music I can finish up with. Marathon.



Come on, you knew I would

To finish off the stats, last week's runs bring me up to 699 in training, and the 2 miler to loosen off tomorrow will get me over 700. Quite proud of that.

Watch this space...

3 days and counting

Or, maybe, just maybe...Been quiet here on account of my holiday in Egypt being somewhat extended on account of that Icelandic volcano thing you may have heard about on the news.Was supposed to be home on Sunday, and with every passing day I've been more and more pessimistic about actually getting home for the race.

But yesterday, some hope, with the rumour that all the cancelled Sunday flights would go today. And an 0530 call to the local office thus morning resulted in a "Yes, you fly at 1715". Now, this is all still to happen, but for the first time in a week I'm starting to allow myself the thought that I'll actually make it.

I will now put the blog on (at least) daily updates as my travel unfolds and, hopefully, I meander my way towards the start line.

Oh, and by the way, just in case toy think all I've been doing is lying in the sun and drinking beer, this is not so. I've also drunk a few Gin & Tonics. And done three six mile runs up and down the path that runs between the resorts and the baech in this part of Sharm el-Sheikh. Believe me, London's going to have to be pretty warm to match the temperatures here, even a 0730. Have also managed to carb load quite effectively too - potatoes for breakfast, rice and pasta for dinner, and loads of salted peanuts to replenish the salt lost through sweat.

Hopefully I'm back on track. Keep your eyes on here for more updates...

2 weeks and counting

Or, getting into the Taper spirit...

I don't think the drop off in miles in the Taper is supposed to be QUITE this dramatic. Because of various scheduling problems this week, I haven't been able to get the time to do as many runs as I'd like (and yes, I know I'm now a man of leisure and should have no such excuse).

Tuesday's recovery after Sunday's last long run was a part cross-country affair through the woods above town, down to the marina and back up the hill. As it followed 2 days of heavy rain, the tracks were sodden, and much care was needed. Slipping and tweaking something on a gentle recovery would be VERY silly.

Wednesday brought the last full track session at Scotstoun, with some good speedwork, albeit slightly hindered by another unhelpful headwind. Got 3 good miles in at 6:07, 6:14 and 6:21, following the "quality, not quantity" ethos of the Taper.

That, however, was that. Had various things happen on Thursday and Friday that meant a longer run wasn't possible, one of which was my leaving do on Friday night, which had the knock-on effect of a run today also being, erm, unwise (the dehydration...). And tomorrow, I head to Egypt for a week's holiday, to which I will be taking my trainers and planning to fit in 2 or 3 reasonable runs. Reckon the early morning temperatures will be cool enough to allow a 5-6 miler at reasonable pace, just to keep the legs turning.

So that's it. A very abbreviated week and blog. Musically, though, we'll go off-playlist to celebrate the week's biggest event. As a long-suffering fan of Newcastle United, I was naturally delighted to see them return to the Premier League at the first attempt on Monday. As I'd feared the club would implode and hurtle down to League One (or whatever it's called these days), it was a pleasant surprise, and hats off the Chris Hughton and a team who failed to show any big-time-Charlie attitude and really applied themselves.

The music is the tune the Toon take the pitch to, which by a happy co-incidence also happens to be the theme music to my all time favourite film, Local Hero. By Mark Knopfler. Not Dire Straits.....



Week's summary: 2 runs, 12 miles: Long run n/a
Miles since acceptance: 681

3 weeks and counting

Or, let the Taper commence...

Not quite "that's it", but this is very much a milestone that I've been looking forward to. The end of the spectacularly long runs, and the gradual wind-down before the race. The miles are in the bank now, so it's a case of letting the muscles recover and the body build its energy stores. Still some less-intense speedwork and tempo runs to be done, but it's quality rather than quantity now, and the miles drop off pleasingly. I have, as is my wont, broken out a celebratory glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

Bit of an interesting week for me - had my last day at work on Tuesday, heading out the door after 15 years of generally good times and good memories. Excited, but also quite nervous, about what the future might hold. In fact, if I look back to the first entry on here at T-25 weeks, and think about the amount of change I've seen, it seems quite startling. Perhaps it's because I've been writing it down that I've noticed it more, but it feels like an unusual amount.

My now ex-colleagues proved to be a hugely generous bunch, as I was gifted a shiny new Garmin 405 GPS watch, which will help me track the last few weeks of training. Along with PC and online logging of each exercise for later review (as you'll see presently) which allows me to release my inner geek... Thanks again for the gift and the memories, folks.

Slightly mixed up running week, missing my recovery on Monday, before a really tough Tempo at Scotstoun on Wednesday, with a strong cross-head wind on the back straight, but no help on the home straight owing to the shelter of the grandstand. Really nice Pace run on Thursday, coming to terms with my newly-found man-of-leisure status by starting it from home at a time of my own choosing rather than 12 sharp from work.

Had, unusually, scheduled the long run for Sunday this week, but I'm glad I did. It was an absolutely beautiful spring day. Sunny, mild, next to no breeze. Good chance to break out the shorts 'n' shades and go into pose mode. To last week's 19.5 run to Dalmuir, I added a 2 mile loop along the canal to Clydebank and back to get the miles up to just over 21.5.

Having picked up "Runners World" yesterday, I saw a tip that said you should do the last 5 miles of your last long at target race pace, so that was the plan. First 16.5 at typical long pace of 8:38, then picking it up to as far under 8:00 as I could manage. Which turned out to be about 4 secs / mile. Undoubtedly the hardest 8 minute miles I've ever done. The full gory details, courtesy of Garmin Connect are here. Unlike the last couple of longs, though, I was much more mentally attuned today. Probably a combination of the good weather, the thought that this is the "last one" and some more Runner's World advice about positive mental imagery (rather than the usual internal whining about how long / how far / how far to go / how much it hurts). Milestones included first time over 20 miles and first run over 3 hours.

So, on a nice day when I felt good achieved some milestones, I have to go back to my favourite feel-good running song. I know I've used it before, but when the conditions are right, it's perfect. And the "yeeeeaaaaahhhhh's" got huge laldy today. The Music - Human:



So, that's the end of the really long miles: the race really starts here. Physical recovery and mental preparation to get me to Greenwich 3 weeks today in the best possible state to achieve my 3:30 goal.

Week's summary: 3 runs, 38 miles: long run 21.5 miles
Miles since acceptance: 669

4 weeks and counting

Or, bugger me, that's less than a month to go...

The big event seems to have snuck up rather alarmingly. Whilst my attention has been diverted with matters such as pounding round the training miles, impending unemployment, booking holidays and making a valiant attempt at the company record for most hours in a week spent in the deli bar, that number on the countdown has got very small. Scarily small.

I suppose the fact that in recent weeks my vest has arrived from Marie Curie, my registration instructions and number (4018) have been dispatched and I've started the process of booking a hotel should have alerted me to the impending arrival of the need to actually DO this thing rather than just talk about it. It's all been a bit conceptual so far, but I'm starting to get a little bit excited. And nervous. Actually that's not true, I've always been a little bit nervous. Except when I've been very nervous.

This has been the last cutback week, and I've ended up doing even less than the modest amount the Programme wanted. A gentle 4 mile recovery on Monday after the Alloa half and a rain-infested 8.5 on Wednesday was it - needed to sort out paperwork on Thursday lunchtime, and was feeling the beginnings of a cold.

Despite it being cutback, I'd added a 20 miler today to cover for one of those I missed through injury / illness. Learning from last time, I ran FROM Home to Dalmuir, thus taking the dreaded uphill finish out of the equation. I also decided that I needed to do one longer run at a slightly higher pace than last time, so I settled on 30 seconds slower than the "target pace" I ran at Alloa - 8 minute 20 second miles. And I stuck almost exactly to it. The pace on the Garmin barely varied 2 seconds each way all run. Metronomic.

As is the way with the Scottish spring, weather conditions were officially "mixed". Seasons swapping every 15 minutes. This meant I had to don one of my windproof base layers to combat a strong cold wind. It has been some time since I wore said garment, and several lbs have been lost in the intervening period. This has turned it from "snug" to "loose and chafing". God, my nips hurt.

And another thing. Cyclists. Twice today groups came the other way and refused to go single file, forcing me off the SHARED pathway and into the trees. Arrogant, ignorant bastards.

Anyway enough ranting. A positive. If you look at the JustGiving widget on the left, you'll see 100%.  Just come off the phone to my Mum and the pledges she'd had from folks at church have got me over the £1000. In the midst of all the fun, there was also a serious point to this.

So THANK YOU, again, to everyone who's donated to Marie Curie Cancer Care and, today, to the good people of St. Peter & St. Paul's Parish Church in Stokesley.

Music. Only 4 to go, and I was tempted to abandon the playlist rules and just stuff on what I liked. But I came across a YouTube clip that actually combines two playlist songs in one. A Dustland Fairytale by The Killers with a bit of Can't Help Falling in Love grafted on the end. Nice.



Week's Summary: 3 runs, 32 miles: Long run, 19.7 miles
Miles since acceptance: 631 (1015km)

5 weeks and counting

Or, Stars on '45.

Getting to the business end now. Had a bit of a mid-week downer, as I was just starting to get sick of the endlessness of it all. Miles, runs, Programmes, plans. It seemed like I used to run because I liked to, but now it's because I have to. So, I did the miles, did the Tempo at Scotstoun despite feeling dog-awful and struggled through a rubbish Pace on Thursday.

But really, this week was all about today. The advice is always to do a half-marathon as race preparation about this far away from the main event. Get used to racing, rather than training, again; test the kit out; work out a race plan and try and stick to it. Well, Scotland in late March doesn't have many events, and I somehow managed to overlook the one that starts less than 10 miles from my front door last week (Balloch to Clydebank) and enter the Alloa Half Marathon today.

I had to think quite hard about whether to actually do it, given that I've missed at least one longer run from the schedule, but eventually decided the racing was a better idea. I devised a race plan that was intended to test my ability to run at, or just inside, my target marathon pace. I need to do 8-minute miles to hit 3:30, so the plan was to run the first 10 miles just inside this, then push on for the last 3. The intention was really to see whether I arrived at 10 miles feeling like I could run the same again at the same pace. Then go for it.

So that's what happened. Alloa is a decent sized run (about 1000 runners), well organised and marshalled, over rolling countryside under the Ochil hills. Seemed a quite serious effort, with almost half the runners affiliated. So, I just turned up and did my thing. Paced myself between 7:45 and 7:50 for the first 10, averaging 7:48. And felt really comfortable - breathing a lot less that the people I was passing and legs not too bad. So at 10 I went for it and ran at about 85% for the rest of the race. Largely, it must be said, because of the helpful downhills. Did the last 3 miles at 6:52 pace, saved a bit for a sprint finish and did 1:39:28. Great psychological boost at this stage.

Now, the spooky thing. And the reason for this week's sub heading. I turned 45 in January. My vest number for today's race was 45. I was in the MV45 category. Have a wild guess at my finishing position within this category. Yep. 45th. Does anyone know if the number 45 is lucky?

Anyway, the music will NOT be Stars on 45. But it will be related. One of the So45 compilation efforts featured the intro to this. As with so many things in life, it all comes back to The Boss. Fire.



Tenuous. Me?

Week's summary: 4 runs, 35 miles: Long run 13.1 miles
Miles since acceptance: 599