Firstly, I'm hoping that my new found pseudonym is due to my obsessive adoration of the lovely Laurence, and not my uncanny resemblance to the 6ft 3, 17 stone ex-international.
As the late, great Roy Castle pointed out on many an occasion, "dedication is what you need", I have, for many months dedicated myself to sitting on my ever expanding gluteous MAXIMUS watching reruns of 2 &1/2 Men, NO MORE!!!
And so, with gut wrenching trepidation, I dust off the O.S.B.H. and, in a fit of madness enroll for the 1/2... (I can barely type the word) marathon.
My plan was to quietly use my greatest asset (Ultra T) to coach me off of the couch onto the hard and unforgiving road and make a runner out of me. Alas, he seems to have had other ideas...a sly comment here, a sneaky aside there and suddenly I seem to have become embroiled in the kind of turf war-esque showdown the likes of Jersey has only seen in the Green Room production of West Side Story. I find myself cursing my old lady feet, as I hobble over to my AbKing Pro and wondering if the Shark to my Jet is suffering too?
And so, Marathon B, if beating a girl, recovering from major knee surgery is the spur you need, BRING IT ON!!!!
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
The first time was survival, the second was about belief, this time it's personal!
I'm sure this post will be met with cries of "who are ya", "who are ya" and indeed it has been quite some time since my last blog, but I'm back, leaner, meaner and keener.
Last year wasn't bad, completing the Paris Marathon with Ultramarathon T, completing the odd 10k and a finishing the Jersey Half marathon in the teeth of a howling gail with scenes more reminiscent of Mary Poppins than an elite running event.
At the mid point of the year I decided I'd put my body through enough punishment and had improved the stock market value of Ibuprofen producers to such a level that I could take it easy, which is exactly what I did.
The long time mystery of who ate all the pies was solved as clearly it was me and I spent the autumnal nights eating fried food, playing computer games and re-enacting the scene from Seven where the guy killed in the sloth manner is found.
However, during a chilling conversation early in 2010 all that changed!
I must say at this point, towards the end of last year I grappled with the Lipotrim method of weight loss which meant I finished the year 3 stone lighter than I started it, but was as weak as a kitten and unable to stand never mind run on a treadmill.
Anyway, I digress, back to the chilling conversation; I'd received a flyer about the Jersey Half Marathon and was casually discussing my possible entry, when Ultra T told me about someone else who had entered and who he was training. (I won't refer to this person by name, she's a lovely person, however, as I reckon she's gunning for me and as such is now my nemesis I'll have to refer to her by a code name).
When he told me that "Dallaligio" had entered and fancied herself as being able to beat my two previous times I decided that was it, like Zoro putting his mask back on, like Batman going to his cavern and donning his suit, like Superman running into a telephone box it was time for action, this one is personal.
I went straight home and flicked through some dog eared, well thumbed half marathon training books, then looked into the cupboard in the spare room, where, in a scene like the end of The Raiders of the Lost Ark I found a box marked "Do not Open". Inside was a pair of running shoes, with neatly folded socks, shorts, T-shirts, some Ibuprofen, Vaseline, plasters and running silverware.
Carefully unpacking these artefacts I knew I had no choice but to don them once again and feel the burn of the treadmill, though this time with a training ferocity of a caged tiger.
I ventured to the gym for the first time in many months and carefully stood on the treadmill and was off for a gentle 5K jog. Well onlookers would have seen a gentle jog, however, internally I was a boiling montage of Rocky music, scenes of heroism, and thoughts of Dallaligio training twice on Christmas Day or running past me at the finish line.
Spurred on I increased the incline and speed which resulted in the fibres in my thighs and groin starting to snap like a tense scene in a film where our hero is hanging over a precipice with only an old twisted rope stopping him from certain death.
I finally wheezed to a stop and hobbled back to the shower.
Every journey starts with a first step and I'm on the road.
Dallaligio, good luck with the training and I look forward to pitting our wits on the start line, unless I don't train very well and get a note from my Mummy!
To be continued…………..
Monday, February 22, 2010
Triathlon...........Sore
Sore………………..sums it up
I turned up at Queens Valley the full 30 minutes early Andy Ruddy had told me I needed and then wondered why I was 25 minutes earlier than I needed to be. Andy on the other hand I soon realised needed the full 30 minutes to set his kit up, when I arrived he was moaning about NASSA using some of their satellites again and he was re calibrating his various computers to make the necessary adjustments, tweaking his transition metrics and checking the latest weather telemetry. Next he proceeded too check his carbon fibre bike and oil bits that need oiling and wonder how much faster he could go with aero dynamic water bottles on his tri bars rather then the round ones he currently had! I decided that since I had a full 29 minutes of preparation left I’d flick some mud off my mountain bike tyres and sulk off back to the car to keep warm.
At the start line andy suggested we stay near the back to avoid getting trampled, sensible idea, I thought, at the whistle the Andy was off, gazelle like, into the distance, I settled into a pack of one at the back (me) though I was briefly joined by some late comers who did not stick around for long. Next, about half way through the run a caught up with 2 chaps where my out of control down hill running actually had me pass them, I was no longer last! 2 miles of running was soon over.
The transition is my favourite bit for two reasons, primarily it take the least physical effort, secondly it’s the bit I’m best at, I over took at least two people though it could have been as many as four.
About ½ a mile into the bike one of the people I took on the transition went past me like a train and I never saw him again. At the end of the first full lap there is a long down hill stretch, I though I’d use my big front cog as I was approaching a rider! Bad idea the chain came off, so hurtling down hill not really looking where I was going I battled ferociously to get the chain on, at the bottom of the hill it clicked back, however the rider in front was long gone, or was he? I rounded the corner at the top of the next hill to see him and a lady and more over I was closing fast, I decided to throw caution to the wind and go for it, I took them both, I was euphoric, for the rest of that lap and the next one I did not see another rider.
Jumping off the bike, some 14 miles later as I walked into the transition I realised four things, one, I could not stand up so I ran bent forward, like I was still on my bike but somebody had stolen it, two, my nipples hurt, three, my legs would not move and they really hurt inside at the top and four, my nipples really were hurting. After about 400 yards I’d managed to free my back so I looked like I was running into a strong wind which is exactly what it felt like, though I was not, after about a mile things loosened up but my nipples really hurt and I was knackered and behind me I could see people gaining. I pushed hard and maintained my place in front of the back of the pack, 1 hour and 19 minutes after starting I’d crossed the line, breathless unable to open the bottle of orange somebody had given me, legs in pain, nipples in agony and delighted to have finished.
Footnote, right nipple looks like it’s been almost ripped off, I think the cycling shorts/vest rubbed it to within a millimetre of being removed.
I turned up at Queens Valley the full 30 minutes early Andy Ruddy had told me I needed and then wondered why I was 25 minutes earlier than I needed to be. Andy on the other hand I soon realised needed the full 30 minutes to set his kit up, when I arrived he was moaning about NASSA using some of their satellites again and he was re calibrating his various computers to make the necessary adjustments, tweaking his transition metrics and checking the latest weather telemetry. Next he proceeded too check his carbon fibre bike and oil bits that need oiling and wonder how much faster he could go with aero dynamic water bottles on his tri bars rather then the round ones he currently had! I decided that since I had a full 29 minutes of preparation left I’d flick some mud off my mountain bike tyres and sulk off back to the car to keep warm.
At the start line andy suggested we stay near the back to avoid getting trampled, sensible idea, I thought, at the whistle the Andy was off, gazelle like, into the distance, I settled into a pack of one at the back (me) though I was briefly joined by some late comers who did not stick around for long. Next, about half way through the run a caught up with 2 chaps where my out of control down hill running actually had me pass them, I was no longer last! 2 miles of running was soon over.
The transition is my favourite bit for two reasons, primarily it take the least physical effort, secondly it’s the bit I’m best at, I over took at least two people though it could have been as many as four.
About ½ a mile into the bike one of the people I took on the transition went past me like a train and I never saw him again. At the end of the first full lap there is a long down hill stretch, I though I’d use my big front cog as I was approaching a rider! Bad idea the chain came off, so hurtling down hill not really looking where I was going I battled ferociously to get the chain on, at the bottom of the hill it clicked back, however the rider in front was long gone, or was he? I rounded the corner at the top of the next hill to see him and a lady and more over I was closing fast, I decided to throw caution to the wind and go for it, I took them both, I was euphoric, for the rest of that lap and the next one I did not see another rider.
Jumping off the bike, some 14 miles later as I walked into the transition I realised four things, one, I could not stand up so I ran bent forward, like I was still on my bike but somebody had stolen it, two, my nipples hurt, three, my legs would not move and they really hurt inside at the top and four, my nipples really were hurting. After about 400 yards I’d managed to free my back so I looked like I was running into a strong wind which is exactly what it felt like, though I was not, after about a mile things loosened up but my nipples really hurt and I was knackered and behind me I could see people gaining. I pushed hard and maintained my place in front of the back of the pack, 1 hour and 19 minutes after starting I’d crossed the line, breathless unable to open the bottle of orange somebody had given me, legs in pain, nipples in agony and delighted to have finished.
Footnote, right nipple looks like it’s been almost ripped off, I think the cycling shorts/vest rubbed it to within a millimetre of being removed.
MRI result Marathon J
Attached is the explaination from the doctor of the latin words the MRI chap said about my back and knee. Bottom line is both are buggered, no more runs of more than 10K. So on that note I've joined the local triathlon club and entered the Jersey half, well I figure it's like doing two and a bit 10K's. What to consultants know anyway, I've met some dodgy IT consultants in my time so who's to say medical consultants are any different.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Another day – another 50 miles.
There are a number of things you expect to find at 7:30am at the start of a 50 mile ultra marathon race, amongst them are: seriously intent looking individuals wrapped in varying degrees of neoprene and technical clothing, the odd wary glance from the first-timer, lots of energy bars and bananas, seemingly boundless nervous energy as the runners warm up (for me this is usually accomplished with a bit of light bouncing) and a faint to strong whiff of deep heat (depending on the time of year!). What you don’t expect to see are your parents striding through the crowd as you are about to register. After recovering from that shock and all round hugs I finished registering, bought a couple of coffees from the bar and decamped to the pub car park to catch up with the codgers.
After sympathising with their very early start and receiving some good last minute advice from my Father (the running guru), I did my final gear checks and at around 8:30am the 150 of us were given the nod to slowly amble out of the Prince of Wales car park and across the road to the start of the Thames Path.
Right away the underfoot conditions were slippery but thankfully not waterlogged, which I had feared, (we had been told this would be the case as the night before one of the competitors had run the course in the opposite direction to ensure it was ok!). So, while it was tough going it wasn’t too treacherous to begin with.
I settled into my sub 10 min/mile pace quite comfortably, knocking off the first 9 miles at a trot. After a very brief greeting from the family at the first CheckPoint – I was quickly on my way. The next ten miles between checkpoints passed without incident – although with a couple of minor map stops as the navigation got harder. Unfortunately, I missed the family at the second checkpoint as they were having some navigation problems of their own. As I exited the CP and carried on the conditions started to get a bit trickier underfoot and as a consequence I began to drop off the 10min/mile pace and the run became more of a struggle.
I was really beginning to find it hard going when I came across my ‘support crew’ at 22 miles in a gated turning just off the footpath. I took the opportunity to relax for a few moments with them and get some food (Oranges – the miracle fruit for distance running). Then I was off again. Feeling much better now I cruised into the 27 mile CP feeling pretty good (even more so as I had managed to navigate myself there without following several other runners who went off track just 800m from the CP).
As I said farewell to my folks at this CP (and they began their long journey home) I felt in good spirits and was running well. I got myself in a small group but this only lasted for a couple of miles as I pulled away on a tricky climb away from the river. After this I ran solo (without seeing another runner) for an hour, which was a great section. I enjoyed the feeling of isolation and true solo navigation, I finally caught up with another runner just before CP4 (36 miles).
I always knew that the final 13 miles would be the tricky bit – but when I arrived I actually felt ok – and on exiting the CP I once again settled into a fair comfortable pace. This section around Reading was mostly tarmac and I was astonished how much better my legs felt after a mile or so on a hard surface, it is amazing the difference running on soft trail makes to your effort and times. I seemed to bounce along to the next CP (44 miles) – and seeing that my support crew had gone AWOL again – I pushed straight on to the finish.
The final few miles twisted around a few houses and several roads/alleyways – but with a brief stop to attach my headtorch (as it was now getting towards dusk) - I set my sights on the finish.
The final mile seemed to whiz past and jogging into the finish as it started to get dark was a great experience, I officially finished in 8hrs 50mins, which represented a great time for me (I was hoping to finish in under 10hrs).
122 runners finished the event within the 12 hour cut off time (I scraped home in 49th place – first place finished in a course record of 6hrs 26mins!). Counting up the niggles during the run I worked out that at one time or other I had a ‘phantom problem’ with: My left hip, right kneecap, left knee (medial ligament), left ankle, right hamstring, and bottom of right calf. Not a bad list of injuries during 9 hours of running.
Reflecting on the race over the next few days, I realised that I wasn’t out of running at the end – I think I could have carried on for a while longer. This is of course easy to think from the safety of a sun lounger (I went straight from the run to Lanzarote for a weeks R&R) but I have started looking for a slightly longer race now to see if it is the case.
So, once I have shifted my cold I will be back on the roads/trails thinking about my next challenge – I’m not done yet…not by a long way!
UltraMarathon T
After sympathising with their very early start and receiving some good last minute advice from my Father (the running guru), I did my final gear checks and at around 8:30am the 150 of us were given the nod to slowly amble out of the Prince of Wales car park and across the road to the start of the Thames Path.
Right away the underfoot conditions were slippery but thankfully not waterlogged, which I had feared, (we had been told this would be the case as the night before one of the competitors had run the course in the opposite direction to ensure it was ok!). So, while it was tough going it wasn’t too treacherous to begin with.
I settled into my sub 10 min/mile pace quite comfortably, knocking off the first 9 miles at a trot. After a very brief greeting from the family at the first CheckPoint – I was quickly on my way. The next ten miles between checkpoints passed without incident – although with a couple of minor map stops as the navigation got harder. Unfortunately, I missed the family at the second checkpoint as they were having some navigation problems of their own. As I exited the CP and carried on the conditions started to get a bit trickier underfoot and as a consequence I began to drop off the 10min/mile pace and the run became more of a struggle.
I was really beginning to find it hard going when I came across my ‘support crew’ at 22 miles in a gated turning just off the footpath. I took the opportunity to relax for a few moments with them and get some food (Oranges – the miracle fruit for distance running). Then I was off again. Feeling much better now I cruised into the 27 mile CP feeling pretty good (even more so as I had managed to navigate myself there without following several other runners who went off track just 800m from the CP).
As I said farewell to my folks at this CP (and they began their long journey home) I felt in good spirits and was running well. I got myself in a small group but this only lasted for a couple of miles as I pulled away on a tricky climb away from the river. After this I ran solo (without seeing another runner) for an hour, which was a great section. I enjoyed the feeling of isolation and true solo navigation, I finally caught up with another runner just before CP4 (36 miles).
I always knew that the final 13 miles would be the tricky bit – but when I arrived I actually felt ok – and on exiting the CP I once again settled into a fair comfortable pace. This section around Reading was mostly tarmac and I was astonished how much better my legs felt after a mile or so on a hard surface, it is amazing the difference running on soft trail makes to your effort and times. I seemed to bounce along to the next CP (44 miles) – and seeing that my support crew had gone AWOL again – I pushed straight on to the finish.
The final few miles twisted around a few houses and several roads/alleyways – but with a brief stop to attach my headtorch (as it was now getting towards dusk) - I set my sights on the finish.
The final mile seemed to whiz past and jogging into the finish as it started to get dark was a great experience, I officially finished in 8hrs 50mins, which represented a great time for me (I was hoping to finish in under 10hrs).
122 runners finished the event within the 12 hour cut off time (I scraped home in 49th place – first place finished in a course record of 6hrs 26mins!). Counting up the niggles during the run I worked out that at one time or other I had a ‘phantom problem’ with: My left hip, right kneecap, left knee (medial ligament), left ankle, right hamstring, and bottom of right calf. Not a bad list of injuries during 9 hours of running.
Reflecting on the race over the next few days, I realised that I wasn’t out of running at the end – I think I could have carried on for a while longer. This is of course easy to think from the safety of a sun lounger (I went straight from the run to Lanzarote for a weeks R&R) but I have started looking for a slightly longer race now to see if it is the case.
So, once I have shifted my cold I will be back on the roads/trails thinking about my next challenge – I’m not done yet…not by a long way!
UltraMarathon T
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
2009 round up Marathon J
2009 round up
In a few words frustrating, full of injury and indeed envy when reading Marathon T’s posts.
My grand plan was to complete an Olympic distance triathlon but recurrent injury dashed my hopes of competing anything other than a novice triathlon in which I came 9th out of a field of about 25. It was however the first time I’d ever ridden my new bike without falling off, stupid pedals!
The vast majority of the year has been plagued with back problems and fits and starts of training, many hundreds of pounds spent with the chiropractor and it’s still not fixed, the result was an MRI scan on my back, SI joints and right knee, with the strong possibility of surgery to follow. Bugger…
So my last run of the year was the day after my MRI scan (boy are they loud), New Years Eve, just over 5 miles into the wind and with a slight drizzle, but the views across St Aubins bay provided pleasant relief from the conditions. Slow and steady, trying to run the turkey off before the big night a head.
Results from the scan on Friday so fingers, arms and legs crossed.
I’m hoping 2010 will be the year of the Olympic Triathlon.
Marathon J
In a few words frustrating, full of injury and indeed envy when reading Marathon T’s posts.
My grand plan was to complete an Olympic distance triathlon but recurrent injury dashed my hopes of competing anything other than a novice triathlon in which I came 9th out of a field of about 25. It was however the first time I’d ever ridden my new bike without falling off, stupid pedals!
The vast majority of the year has been plagued with back problems and fits and starts of training, many hundreds of pounds spent with the chiropractor and it’s still not fixed, the result was an MRI scan on my back, SI joints and right knee, with the strong possibility of surgery to follow. Bugger…
So my last run of the year was the day after my MRI scan (boy are they loud), New Years Eve, just over 5 miles into the wind and with a slight drizzle, but the views across St Aubins bay provided pleasant relief from the conditions. Slow and steady, trying to run the turkey off before the big night a head.
Results from the scan on Friday so fingers, arms and legs crossed.
I’m hoping 2010 will be the year of the Olympic Triathlon.
Marathon J
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