Point of Departure

Three Days to Go

I'm writing this when I really should be sleeping, although I know that I won't be able to. Mainly because I'll be lying awake thinking of things I should be packing, or how I'm going to fall foul of the increasingly draconian baggage allowances.

Tomorrow I fly to Reykjavik so it's all over now bar the shouting. Just three simple tasks for the day:

1) Catch flight

2) Get to hotel (fingers crossed the online booking worked...)

3) Pick up race number from the Expo (assuming again that I can find it)

After that, it's sightseeing for a day and a half before an early night ready for the race.

Running has essentially stopped now until Saturday. I went out at club on Monday and did 6 and a half at 8 minute mile pace - probably the slowest of the entire training cycle, but necessary. I ran with a new member who recently ran his first marathon in 2:47, which puts things into perspective! Lots of support from friends which has helped calm the nerves - although the suggestion from one that I would run 2:55 didn't really help. The natural pessimist in me is now in full effect. 

There hasn't been any other running, 'The Plan' mentions a few short ones but I decided to deviate as before my last marathon I found doing almost nothing in the week before was the best policy. I did go to the gym tonight to try and burn off some nervous energy though.

Well that's it. I'll try and post something, wi-fi permitting, but if not my thoughts will have to wait until post-race.

I'll see you on the other side. 

Getting There Slowly

38 Days to Go

I made it through the weekend, not sure how but I did. The decision to try a 20 mile run after work on Sunday was admirable but completely stupid. Dragging myself along the Rea Valley path to the general bemusement of the public wasn't particularly pleasant - but at least I was sensible enough to go the opposite way round to normal so that I had to run down Church Road rather than up it.

On the plus side, I've found that mowing the lawn is a good warm-down exercise!

The weekend took it out of me so despite finishing the acting, I didn't head to the club on Monday or got the gym and instead just fell asleep for two hours. I did make the committee meeting, and it was nice to get a bit of praise for my recent results, although in a way it's putting added pressure on me for a good time.

Not much else exciting running wise this week. Some form of tootle out tomorrow, a spot of marshalling on Thursday and then a trip back up north for the weekend. I plan to have a relax and a few shandies with friends, run the second tune-up half marathon in glamorous Lytham and even have a bit of a run around the old haunts if time permits. 

Work wise, confusion still reigns. It appears that I still have a job, although I am not exactly sure what it involves anymore....

The Agony and the Ecstasy

Week Six - 88 Days to Go

One of the key things pointed out in The Plan is try and prevent real life intruding on your training where possible. Unfortunately, when this includes your football team making the Play Off Final for the first time in 21 years thus setting up a first ever trip to the new Wembley Stadium; certain sacrifices have to be made. I'm sure Mr. Pfitzinger would understand...

As such my training after Hagley went a bit to pot so I could accommodate the trip. I went down to club on Thursday evening, but the low turnout meant I went for a steady run on my own. Which also meant that I paced it horribly and went too fast. Ideally I need to find someone else who is marathon training, or at the very least willing to do the long runs with me so that my pacing stays remotely sensible. 

Friday was a long day at work with no running, so to burn off nervous energy before the big match I did about nine miles at a fair pace on Saturday morning, knowing full well that there would be nothing on Sunday regardless of the result. 

I won't bore anyone with a match report but suffice it to say that conceding an equaliser with the very last kick of the match before losing on penalties is exactly the sickener you'd expect. With a day's hindsight though I can apprectiate what a magnificent season it was - to go from being 20 seconds away from relegation to 20 seconds from promotion in twelve months is a fantastic achievement by anyone's yardstick. As they say though, you must experience the lows to appreciate the highs - so let's hope for better next season.

Big Day Out at Wembley

As today was a Bank Holiday, I attempted the long run. In the end I managed fifteen miles (including a brief detour for a toilet break) but it was hard work. I can only blame post-play off ennui so much though, it was probably just one of those days. 

For the rest of the week a combination of work, revision and the occasional run is planned. Hopefully this will be the last of the weeks where slight rescheduling is necessary. By this time next Monday I will have ceased to be a student (until September) so my life will hopefully have some semblance of free time restored...

The Morning After..

What a difference the few days since my last post have made! We've had a General Election, so as far as I know my job may already have been outsourced the lowest bidder - currently I'm sat on my Parent's sofa in a state of blissful ignorance.

My trip to the old country has been for an old friends wedding, a really pleasant day out catching up with everyone was had. The weather came good and much was consumed - as a consequence of course there was no running this weekend. This is perhaps a good thing as I think that I may have twinged a muscle during my attempt at the Sherrifhales Shuffle last week so a couple of days rest may not be the worst idea in the long run.

My last actual run was Friday morning before I set off - supposedly another 4 mile threshold session however I dropped off quite dramatically after the first mile. What was supposed to be run at half marathon pace ended up being about twenty seconds slower. I blame post-election malaise - the bloody Tories ruining my running along with everything else...

No other non-running distractions planned at weekends before the big day now (except for a couple of contractually obligated working weekends) so it's full steam ahead. Seeing some of my club mates posting some impressive short distance times much better than my current ones has awakened that pesky competitive instinct. As a result, I've taken the opportunity of a change in my work shifts to enter a cheeky 10k race in Worcester at the start of June.

I should really be doing a long run on that day, but I'll sort something out and damn the consequences...

"Nothing Important Happened Today..."

Week One - 123 Days to Go

So it begins - somewhat underwhelmingly it must be said. I wasn't expecting a fanfare, but it is slightly dispiriting to open the the Big Book of Marathon Training only to be told that the first order of business is  "Rest Day or Cross Training".

Nevertheless, if I am to succeed then the plan must be followed. So, after work it was straight down the gym for an hour. Nothing else to say really except that, sadly, my favourite gym regular - the chap who looks like an Asian Danny Glover wearing the world's shiniest tracksuit and whose entire workout consists of an hour of sit-ups - wasn't in attendance.

After that it was the Bournville Harriers AGM and then home. 'The Plan' promises actual running tomorrow, just have to survive work and the likelihood of an appearance at Kangaroo Court. I expect that in a few weeks I'll be praying for any sort of rest day so I should really enjoy them while I can.

Not the most inspiring beginning but, as the Chinese philosopher Lao Tsu said: "the longest journey begins with a single step". 

I'm not sure if he ever ran a 'Good for Age' time though...

Family Business

Not much running this weekend, Easter and the end of the University term meant that a visit from the parents was in order. I don't think my constant excuses about being too busy writing essays and reading increasingly ridiculous screeds about international relations really washed so they popped down for the duration.

Running comprised of a quick five miles on Friday morning along the canal with the added incentive of making it back before they arrived. I needn't have bothered, a combination of Bank Holiday traffic and Dad's admirable refusal to pay for the toll road meant they arrived long after lunch. 

As they left on Sunday evening, I decided that Bank Holiday Monday morning would see a reasonably long running effort. In the end, several milestones were reached - not only did I manage 10 miles feeling in reasonable shape (which I wouldn't have expected after last week) but also went out in just a T-shirt for the first time this year. Spring has definitely arrived.

So overall, little running but much pleasantness. As a northerner, I am obliged to hide my feelings but there is something to be said for just sitting around and having a catch-up - even a long Sunday walk to Cannon Hill was nice. One of my great failings is not making enough time for friends and family - particularly as I owe my parents more than I could, or the above mentioned general northern taciturn nature would allow me to admit. Hopefully this weekend went some way to remedying this. 

Beaten by Beaufort

As much as I approve of a bit of resistance training, I draw the line at running about in gale force winds. My decision was partly vindicated by the fact that I only saw one hardy runner passing the house all day.

Instead I decided to head to the gym with an hour or so of effort enough to convince myself that I'd done something.

There was also the small matter of an actual date...

Back to earth now, ironing clothes for tomorrow's return to work and trying to get some reading done for the last University essay of the year. I am still yet to be convinced that you can sum up any aspect of the Arab-Israeli conflict in only 3000 words.