I was supposed to follow last night’s long run with a short one this morning but didn’t. I just hadn’t got the legs, someone must have stolen then overnight.
L too is lamenting the few days off that we had in glitzy Morecambe. Problem is we’ve got a whole week off coming up, a whole week of tampering and feeling our fitness slipping through our fingers. After which we’ll both be crawling round Nottingham on our hands and knees. We’ll just have to run on holiday. The dogs need it too. They’ve got a race to train for as well. I’ve just entered them both in 'Tails n Trials' on 17th September.
The gasman decides he’s wheedled enough money out of British Gas and isn’t coming back again tomorrow. Good because I was going to start charging him rent if he was.
I’m out in Derby tonight. A few drinks and then Steak and Ale pie in the pub. It’s almost like a lunch time session. Later L and the boys meet me off the bus and escort me home where I help Daughter with her online enrolment. It’s so painstakingly slow on the University’s server than Daughter abandons ship and leaves me to it. Who's enrolment is this? In the end I leave it to it as well. I’ll finish it off in my lunch hour tomorrow, when all the students will be in bed.
Meanwhile in Spain, Bradley Wiggins moves into the lead in La Vuelta amid a British media blackout on the subject. They obviously don’t want to go overboard on the coverage and put too much pressure on him.
(Wednesday 31st August)
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Tuesday, 30 August 2011
On The Cusp
We leave the kids to deal with the gasman. Well they are ‘adults’ now and as everything to do with the boiler is on a service contract what can go wrong?
Things may not go wrong but they don't seem to go right either. Apparently the guy is coming back again tomorrow. No idea why but we still have no hot water. I would think he’s taking us for a ride but as it’s not actually costing us anything, I assume he's taking British Gas, for who he’s contracting, for a ride instead and charging them as many hours as he can.
Another run tonight, my final long one prior to Nottingham, which is now less than two weeks ago. As the latest smug email from the organisers joyfully informs me. ‘we hope all of your training has gone to plan, you're enjoying being on the cusp of tapering and are looking forward to race day as much as we are.’
Throughout tonight’s 17km, I feel permanently ‘on the cusp’ of something but whatever it was, it wasn’t something pleasant. The 17km felt like 117km. e.g. it was bloody hard work. You take a few days off and it all falls apart.
L’s training aims are a little less ambitious. She’s off for a ‘trot around the embankment’, her words. I like the sound of that.
As Daughter is out I cook up a steaming hot curry. Life’s little pleasures. When she’s up in Sheffield we’ll be able to do steaming hot every day.
(Tuesday 30th August)
Things may not go wrong but they don't seem to go right either. Apparently the guy is coming back again tomorrow. No idea why but we still have no hot water. I would think he’s taking us for a ride but as it’s not actually costing us anything, I assume he's taking British Gas, for who he’s contracting, for a ride instead and charging them as many hours as he can.
Another run tonight, my final long one prior to Nottingham, which is now less than two weeks ago. As the latest smug email from the organisers joyfully informs me. ‘we hope all of your training has gone to plan, you're enjoying being on the cusp of tapering and are looking forward to race day as much as we are.’
Throughout tonight’s 17km, I feel permanently ‘on the cusp’ of something but whatever it was, it wasn’t something pleasant. The 17km felt like 117km. e.g. it was bloody hard work. You take a few days off and it all falls apart.
L’s training aims are a little less ambitious. She’s off for a ‘trot around the embankment’, her words. I like the sound of that.
As Daughter is out I cook up a steaming hot curry. Life’s little pleasures. When she’s up in Sheffield we’ll be able to do steaming hot every day.
(Tuesday 30th August)
Monday, 29 August 2011
A Bit Of Variation
More rain over night. Apparently they considered cancelling Sunday’s events at the dog show and again consider cancelling today’s programme. Which would have made the weekend quite literally a total washout for us.
Quite a few people have quit of their own accord and gone home, their caravans towed off site by the local farmer’s tractor. Most of the stalls seem to have gone too. Lightweights. Yes it’s wet but this is Lancashire, it’s almost Cumbria and they’re well used to rain up there.
The decreasing number of competitors means an increasing opportunity to win something with MD. If only he can keep the poles up. If only. Five runs; one pole down in four of them. In the fifth, for a bit of variation, we come out the weaves instead. Although that may well have been my fault but he’s taking the blame for everything else. It’s a shame because, mostly, we’re blindingly quick as is shown by the fact MD still gets rosettes for 13th and 14th despite having faults.
It’s left to Doggo to save the day. Two runs, two 8th places. One was so good I was tempted to retire him at the end of it. It would have been such a good run to go out on. I was surprised it only got us 8th but sadly we’re not as quick as we once were. In fact we were 0.427 of a second outside the course time of 34 seconds. But I ask you, who sets a course time of 34 seconds! 35 yes, 30 maybe but 34! I think they saw us coming.
After which we head home, via Stoke to collect Son, to a home with no gas boiler. So no hot bath on our return. Instead I catch up with La Vuelta a España, the cycling Tour Of Spain, that a terrestrial TV station has decided to cover for the first time.
Well done ITV4. The coverage is a bit cobbled together and not as slick as their Tour De France coverage but they seem to be learning on their feet and it improves every day. Today was the time trial, where after riding consistently for the first nine days Bradley Wiggins was lurking in 13th with a real chance of taking the race lead today.
He rides well and sets the third fastest time, which isn’t quite enough to take the race lead but places him handily in third. The new race leader is, amazingly, Wiggins’ Sky teammate, fellow Brit, Chris Froome. Who has a superb ride. So Brits in first and third. It’s going to be cracking last ten days or so.
(Monday 29th August)
Quite a few people have quit of their own accord and gone home, their caravans towed off site by the local farmer’s tractor. Most of the stalls seem to have gone too. Lightweights. Yes it’s wet but this is Lancashire, it’s almost Cumbria and they’re well used to rain up there.
The decreasing number of competitors means an increasing opportunity to win something with MD. If only he can keep the poles up. If only. Five runs; one pole down in four of them. In the fifth, for a bit of variation, we come out the weaves instead. Although that may well have been my fault but he’s taking the blame for everything else. It’s a shame because, mostly, we’re blindingly quick as is shown by the fact MD still gets rosettes for 13th and 14th despite having faults.
It’s left to Doggo to save the day. Two runs, two 8th places. One was so good I was tempted to retire him at the end of it. It would have been such a good run to go out on. I was surprised it only got us 8th but sadly we’re not as quick as we once were. In fact we were 0.427 of a second outside the course time of 34 seconds. But I ask you, who sets a course time of 34 seconds! 35 yes, 30 maybe but 34! I think they saw us coming.
After which we head home, via Stoke to collect Son, to a home with no gas boiler. So no hot bath on our return. Instead I catch up with La Vuelta a España, the cycling Tour Of Spain, that a terrestrial TV station has decided to cover for the first time.
Well done ITV4. The coverage is a bit cobbled together and not as slick as their Tour De France coverage but they seem to be learning on their feet and it improves every day. Today was the time trial, where after riding consistently for the first nine days Bradley Wiggins was lurking in 13th with a real chance of taking the race lead today.
He rides well and sets the third fastest time, which isn’t quite enough to take the race lead but places him handily in third. The new race leader is, amazingly, Wiggins’ Sky teammate, fellow Brit, Chris Froome. Who has a superb ride. So Brits in first and third. It’s going to be cracking last ten days or so.
(Monday 29th August)
Sunday, 28 August 2011
A Good Buffeting
We are camping at a dog show, as you do. We arrived last night and squelched our way across the field to our designated camping spot right at the back... They obviously have us down as trouble makers or maybe they’ve been pre-warned about MD’s vocal chords. They seem to have had rather a lot of rain here.
Then this morning we squelched our way back across the field and out on to the road, temporarily waving goodbye to the dog show. We are just using their camping facilities, or to give it its proper name, field, for the moment. I’ll be competing tomorrow.
We’re at Garstang at the moment but now we’re heading for Morecambe, where the weather is incredibly bleak and terrifically windy. So nice weather for the Morecambe Mile. I’m so glad I’m not involved. It’s just L, a couple of hundred others and some rather fearsome looking waves. Lovely weather for swimming...
On the plus side, the Morecambe and Heysham Yacht Club who are hosting the event are churning out the bacon rolls, flapjacks and hot drinks at a rate of knots. They’ve even got a table full of cakes for later. So the organisation is top notch.
As everyone else gets wetsuited up and heads out onto the front, the dogs and I try to get a good viewing position, somewhere where we won't get blown over the sea wall. Then we are told of the delayed start, which is greeted by mostly relieved looks all round. Then we’re told that they’ve moved the start. Preferably to warmer climes but no just a hundred yards or so down to a 'calmer' bay. The waves are oooh 5% smaller here. We watch a couple of boats struggle out into the sea with the buoys which will mark out the course, the boats bobbing up and down on the ever increasing tide.
Then a chap who looks kind of official jumps up on a wall, calls everyone round and tells us it’s all off. Cancelled. They’ll be no Morecambe Mile. A few cries of ‘Oh no, I was looking forward to a good buffeting against the rocks’, or something like that, go out but are quickly drowned out (if you excuse the pun) by a relieved round of applause from everyone else. It’s disappointing but there’s always the cakes.
Then we partake in a bracing walk along the sea front, to walk off the cakes and to try and find Doggo a bit of beach. Of which there is none, the tide is still stubbornly in and still looking fearsomely unswimmable.
This is how windy it was.
Then we head back to the dog show and squelch our way across the field to our camping spot. Later we head down into the village of Scorton and sit romantically under a canopy, because we’re not welcome inside the pub with the dogs. We watch the on-off rain while sipping beer and eating our way through an undeserved three course meal including a not too bad cheeseboard.
(Sunday 28th August)
Then this morning we squelched our way back across the field and out on to the road, temporarily waving goodbye to the dog show. We are just using their camping facilities, or to give it its proper name, field, for the moment. I’ll be competing tomorrow.
We’re at Garstang at the moment but now we’re heading for Morecambe, where the weather is incredibly bleak and terrifically windy. So nice weather for the Morecambe Mile. I’m so glad I’m not involved. It’s just L, a couple of hundred others and some rather fearsome looking waves. Lovely weather for swimming...
On the plus side, the Morecambe and Heysham Yacht Club who are hosting the event are churning out the bacon rolls, flapjacks and hot drinks at a rate of knots. They’ve even got a table full of cakes for later. So the organisation is top notch.
As everyone else gets wetsuited up and heads out onto the front, the dogs and I try to get a good viewing position, somewhere where we won't get blown over the sea wall. Then we are told of the delayed start, which is greeted by mostly relieved looks all round. Then we’re told that they’ve moved the start. Preferably to warmer climes but no just a hundred yards or so down to a 'calmer' bay. The waves are oooh 5% smaller here. We watch a couple of boats struggle out into the sea with the buoys which will mark out the course, the boats bobbing up and down on the ever increasing tide.
Then a chap who looks kind of official jumps up on a wall, calls everyone round and tells us it’s all off. Cancelled. They’ll be no Morecambe Mile. A few cries of ‘Oh no, I was looking forward to a good buffeting against the rocks’, or something like that, go out but are quickly drowned out (if you excuse the pun) by a relieved round of applause from everyone else. It’s disappointing but there’s always the cakes.
Then we partake in a bracing walk along the sea front, to walk off the cakes and to try and find Doggo a bit of beach. Of which there is none, the tide is still stubbornly in and still looking fearsomely unswimmable.
Then we head back to the dog show and squelch our way across the field to our camping spot. Later we head down into the village of Scorton and sit romantically under a canopy, because we’re not welcome inside the pub with the dogs. We watch the on-off rain while sipping beer and eating our way through an undeserved three course meal including a not too bad cheeseboard.
(Sunday 28th August)
Saturday, 27 August 2011
An Historic Moment
An historic moment today, after four years Daughter is finally retiring from the newspaper industry and hanging up her delivery bag. L will so miss dragging her out of bed every morning.
She heads out on her last paper round pushing a wheelbarrow to collect all the tips and leaving gifts. Not really, I made that bit up but there’s certainly quite a lot of both coming her way.
She’s been quite astute and put notes through doors telling them of her retirement and impending departure to Uni. She doesn’t add ‘Oi I need some money for Greece’, which was probably wise. The strategy pays dividends, literally. There’s a shrewd business woman buried deep in there somewhere but then I suppose she’s been milking us for every penny for years.
Derby’s run of victories comes to an end, losing at home to Burnley. It was good while it lasted but now we can revert to being totally average again, just as we were today.
L collects me from the match in the car, with the dogs and Son. We’re off to glitzy Morecambe for the weekend. Well Son isn’t we’re lobbing him out in Stoke so that he can fraternise for the weekend.
(Saturday 27th August)
She heads out on her last paper round pushing a wheelbarrow to collect all the tips and leaving gifts. Not really, I made that bit up but there’s certainly quite a lot of both coming her way.
She’s been quite astute and put notes through doors telling them of her retirement and impending departure to Uni. She doesn’t add ‘Oi I need some money for Greece’, which was probably wise. The strategy pays dividends, literally. There’s a shrewd business woman buried deep in there somewhere but then I suppose she’s been milking us for every penny for years.
Derby’s run of victories comes to an end, losing at home to Burnley. It was good while it lasted but now we can revert to being totally average again, just as we were today.
L collects me from the match in the car, with the dogs and Son. We’re off to glitzy Morecambe for the weekend. Well Son isn’t we’re lobbing him out in Stoke so that he can fraternise for the weekend.
(Saturday 27th August)
Friday, 26 August 2011
Timed To Perfection
It’s a bit wet out there. Real Reading/Leeds Festival weather and I’m planning a run home.
L though, off work again, does her run in the morning, in the worst of it and recovers in a hot bath. Which she times to perfection because an hour later the gasman arrives round, gives our nearly new boiler its annual service and condemns it.
Apparently there’s a crack in it and he makes L sign a waiver in case any of us are gassed over the weekend... then he vows to be back as soon as feasibly possible to fix it, which will be Tuesday of course because of the bank holiday. Thankfully we’re all away this weekend, L and I up in Morecambe, Son is up to something in Stoke (again) and Daughter... ah, she’ll be in. Just no hot baths for her and she won’t be able to wash any pots. Not that I can see that being much of a issue. She also won’t be able to dry her clothes over the radiators... Now I can see some benefits.
The plan tonight was for me to run all the way to Beeston, which is full half marathon distance and for L to walk up from the other direction with the dogs, so we can then crash in the Victoria.
At lunchtime it’s not looking good weather wise. I’ve not even managed to get out for a sandwich, such is the deluge. Eventually it fines up, I get lunch, do my run and the Victoria even lays on a 5%er.
(Friday 26th August)
L though, off work again, does her run in the morning, in the worst of it and recovers in a hot bath. Which she times to perfection because an hour later the gasman arrives round, gives our nearly new boiler its annual service and condemns it.
Apparently there’s a crack in it and he makes L sign a waiver in case any of us are gassed over the weekend... then he vows to be back as soon as feasibly possible to fix it, which will be Tuesday of course because of the bank holiday. Thankfully we’re all away this weekend, L and I up in Morecambe, Son is up to something in Stoke (again) and Daughter... ah, she’ll be in. Just no hot baths for her and she won’t be able to wash any pots. Not that I can see that being much of a issue. She also won’t be able to dry her clothes over the radiators... Now I can see some benefits.
The plan tonight was for me to run all the way to Beeston, which is full half marathon distance and for L to walk up from the other direction with the dogs, so we can then crash in the Victoria.
At lunchtime it’s not looking good weather wise. I’ve not even managed to get out for a sandwich, such is the deluge. Eventually it fines up, I get lunch, do my run and the Victoria even lays on a 5%er.
(Friday 26th August)
Thursday, 25 August 2011
Barometer Dog
I wanted to do a short run this morning. Well I didn't want to but I felt the need to keep the mileage up. Problem is I needed to get up at 6am to do this and at 6am the rain was pounding against the window. Well perhaps not exactly pounding but not pleasant. You know it's not the weather to put the dog out when the dog doesn't move from his position on your feet on the bed even when your feet go to the back door to open it. Unless you're an all weathers version like MD, who will go out for a bark at the fairies at the bottom of the garden whatever the weather. Meanwhile our barometer dog, Doggo, stays put in the warm. I skip the run and instead join him and L back to bed for half an hour.
L claims to ‘crawl’ in to work from the gym. At least she did some physical activity, I crawled in from the bus stop. Of course it has now stopped raining and blue skies are abound, just in time for tennis. Damn. Hopefully it’ll rain and then I can a run later instead.
It doesn’t but it's a decent game and a much closer one. Particularly the second set which we have to move to another court to finish because we overrun. This court though doesn’t have floodlights and I try to strive for an honourable 5-5 draw at which point bad light would have surely stopped play but sadly fail, and go down 6-4.
L meets us in the pub where, in an about turn from last week, there’s nothing under 5% and the Abbot is back. There we are sipping our drinks just after 9pm, gearing ourselves up for one of their £5 curries when they start taking all the menus away. Hang on a sec, it says served until 10pm. They can’t go changing the rules just like that. A mad panic ensues and under pressure they rustle us up a couple of leftover Bhunas.
(Thursday 25th August)
L claims to ‘crawl’ in to work from the gym. At least she did some physical activity, I crawled in from the bus stop. Of course it has now stopped raining and blue skies are abound, just in time for tennis. Damn. Hopefully it’ll rain and then I can a run later instead.
It doesn’t but it's a decent game and a much closer one. Particularly the second set which we have to move to another court to finish because we overrun. This court though doesn’t have floodlights and I try to strive for an honourable 5-5 draw at which point bad light would have surely stopped play but sadly fail, and go down 6-4.
L meets us in the pub where, in an about turn from last week, there’s nothing under 5% and the Abbot is back. There we are sipping our drinks just after 9pm, gearing ourselves up for one of their £5 curries when they start taking all the menus away. Hang on a sec, it says served until 10pm. They can’t go changing the rules just like that. A mad panic ensues and under pressure they rustle us up a couple of leftover Bhunas.
(Thursday 25th August)
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
A Not-so-slow Puncture
I’m on the bike in pleasant, near perfect cycling weather, although with slightly in-compliant legs after last night’s run.
Another first for Daughter today, as she breaks her internet ordering virginity using her visa debit card online for the first time. A slippery slope I believe. She seems thrilled when they arrive. I suppose with our post I'm always thrilled when something arrives, surprised too.
I cycle home and consider a post-work swim, although I haven’t checked in advance to see if the pool is open. It wasn’t last time and it would be just my luck if it wasn’t again. Suppose it will be a nice surprise if it is.
I put my rear tyre down yet another pot hole, which isn’t difficult considering the vast number of them around. The tyre doesn’t go down immediately and I think I’ve got away with it but then I realise I’ve developed a slow puncture. Well actually a not-so-slow puncture. I stop to blow it up but a couple of miles later it’s gone down again. It takes me three sessions with the pump to get me the rest of the way to the pool and then the mile home from there.
The swim went well, although I got reprimanded for not waving back at L who was in the gym. Oops. Unfortunately I had a bit of battle on with the guy in my lane, he was a bit quick. I was so preoccupied that I didn't even get chance to ogle the girls in the next lane, let alone check out the talent waving at me. Makes you wonder why I went really.
Despite the not-so-slow puncture I'm home in time for my appointment. I have an 8pm slot booked in my diary for with a client requiring a ‘tempo’ session. She’s my only client actually and she’s a bit bolshy tonight, shouting at me for urging her to go quicker on our first fast km. You don’t need it from your customers do you? She’s better after that though and does what she’s told. L seemed happy with the session.
(Wednesday 24th August)
Another first for Daughter today, as she breaks her internet ordering virginity using her visa debit card online for the first time. A slippery slope I believe. She seems thrilled when they arrive. I suppose with our post I'm always thrilled when something arrives, surprised too.
I cycle home and consider a post-work swim, although I haven’t checked in advance to see if the pool is open. It wasn’t last time and it would be just my luck if it wasn’t again. Suppose it will be a nice surprise if it is.
I put my rear tyre down yet another pot hole, which isn’t difficult considering the vast number of them around. The tyre doesn’t go down immediately and I think I’ve got away with it but then I realise I’ve developed a slow puncture. Well actually a not-so-slow puncture. I stop to blow it up but a couple of miles later it’s gone down again. It takes me three sessions with the pump to get me the rest of the way to the pool and then the mile home from there.
The swim went well, although I got reprimanded for not waving back at L who was in the gym. Oops. Unfortunately I had a bit of battle on with the guy in my lane, he was a bit quick. I was so preoccupied that I didn't even get chance to ogle the girls in the next lane, let alone check out the talent waving at me. Makes you wonder why I went really.
Despite the not-so-slow puncture I'm home in time for my appointment. I have an 8pm slot booked in my diary for with a client requiring a ‘tempo’ session. She’s my only client actually and she’s a bit bolshy tonight, shouting at me for urging her to go quicker on our first fast km. You don’t need it from your customers do you? She’s better after that though and does what she’s told. L seemed happy with the session.
(Wednesday 24th August)
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
Just What Is The Point Of This Walk?
I’ve mentioned that I’ve been trying to compile the ‘gigography of my life’, even to the extent of digging through my t-shirt drawer looking for concert dates to add to the list. Now L’s doing the same with her race t-shirts, as she compiles the ‘raceography’ of her life.
This is an interesting project too and as with gigs the internet has its uses. Partly. You’d have thought finding out your previous times for a race as big as the Nottingham Half Marathon would be doddle. Nope. There are no previous results on their website at all. Naturally I immediately email the organisers to find out why not.
Meanwhile I manage to piece together a race history from 2003 onwards using results that have been taken off the Nottingham Half website and reposted elsewhere. I even find an archived version of the 2006 website on some obscure server that contains a full set of results for 2004 and 2005. Unfortunately we need to go back further than that.
Sweatshop, the current organisers, quickly get back to me and promise to email the race director to see if he can help. I’m kind of impressed, even though they haven’t unearthed anything yet. I might even buy some shoes from them.
Time for this week’s long training run. 17km tonight, only a little longer than last week but it takes me to a convenient stopping point with a shop and a bus stop. It goes oddly well.
Then I walk the boys up to the tennis centre to meet L from the gym. Doggo is a pain. He simply doesn’t see the point of this walk at all. We don’t go down the footpath that leads to our usual entrance point onto the park, and then we then walk straight past the park’s side entrance. Although, as I do point out to him, it’s locked anyway, as the people trying to get out will testify to. They do lock it far too early in summer.
Then to compound his misery, we walk straight past the main entrance. This final snub is too much for him and he has a brief sit down protest. He glares at me as if to reiterate ‘just what is the point of this walk?’ Eventually we carry on, Doggo sulking and stopping to sniff at everything in an act of dissent. MD meanwhile is oblivious to it all, ploughing on regardless, a walks a walk.
Then Doggo sees his Mum. See there is a point to it after all.
(Tuesday 23rd August)
This is an interesting project too and as with gigs the internet has its uses. Partly. You’d have thought finding out your previous times for a race as big as the Nottingham Half Marathon would be doddle. Nope. There are no previous results on their website at all. Naturally I immediately email the organisers to find out why not.
Meanwhile I manage to piece together a race history from 2003 onwards using results that have been taken off the Nottingham Half website and reposted elsewhere. I even find an archived version of the 2006 website on some obscure server that contains a full set of results for 2004 and 2005. Unfortunately we need to go back further than that.
Sweatshop, the current organisers, quickly get back to me and promise to email the race director to see if he can help. I’m kind of impressed, even though they haven’t unearthed anything yet. I might even buy some shoes from them.
Time for this week’s long training run. 17km tonight, only a little longer than last week but it takes me to a convenient stopping point with a shop and a bus stop. It goes oddly well.
Then I walk the boys up to the tennis centre to meet L from the gym. Doggo is a pain. He simply doesn’t see the point of this walk at all. We don’t go down the footpath that leads to our usual entrance point onto the park, and then we then walk straight past the park’s side entrance. Although, as I do point out to him, it’s locked anyway, as the people trying to get out will testify to. They do lock it far too early in summer.
Then to compound his misery, we walk straight past the main entrance. This final snub is too much for him and he has a brief sit down protest. He glares at me as if to reiterate ‘just what is the point of this walk?’ Eventually we carry on, Doggo sulking and stopping to sniff at everything in an act of dissent. MD meanwhile is oblivious to it all, ploughing on regardless, a walks a walk.
Then Doggo sees his Mum. See there is a point to it after all.
(Tuesday 23rd August)
Monday, 22 August 2011
Not Too Bad Considering
I've done the stairs this morning, twice actually. That's not too bad considering.
I take a day off half marathon training today and I’m even in the car. L goes even further and has the whole day off work. The dogs go further still and after their walk and breakfast, crash back in bed, pretending they’ve walked miles.
Time to reflect... yesterday L was talking to a chap who’d done 300 half marathons, so we still have a way to go and he didn’t even do his first one until he was 58. He did his PB aged 63 and his time - 1:36, demands respect.
1:36 is, as it happens, the sort of numbers I'm looking for at Nottingham in, erm, 13 days time.
(Monday 22nd August)
I take a day off half marathon training today and I’m even in the car. L goes even further and has the whole day off work. The dogs go further still and after their walk and breakfast, crash back in bed, pretending they’ve walked miles.
Time to reflect... yesterday L was talking to a chap who’d done 300 half marathons, so we still have a way to go and he didn’t even do his first one until he was 58. He did his PB aged 63 and his time - 1:36, demands respect.
1:36 is, as it happens, the sort of numbers I'm looking for at Nottingham in, erm, 13 days time.
(Monday 22nd August)
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