Feelin' good

Greetings one and all! How’s everybody feeling?

For many runners, the autumn season’s about to kick off. Yes, running is a year-round sport: but some months are busier than others when it comes to larger races. And, squeezed in between the hot(ter) summer months (with those pesky school holidays that can hamper training and getting to races) and the darker/colder/wetter winter months (during which some runners find it harder to train, apparently), here cometh the Autumn Season. Which, for me, this year means two races, holding the keys to my outstanding 2014 goals:

1. Bristol Half Marathon (September 21)

2. Chester Marathon (October 5)

I was also meant to be running the Yorkshire Marathon on October 12, although it was never going to be a PB attempt: that was always Chester’s gig. But the fact that work means I have to be in Boston, Mass. on the morning of October 13 has thrown a spanner in the works there. Now, had it been Boston, Lincs., getting across from York would have been a doddle: but it’s not…

…it’s a shame, but on the whole I don’t travel anywhere near as much as I used to for work. It so rarely gets in the way of family and running that I can’t grumble for the odd exception. I did look into running the Oxford Half instead, whence reaching Heathrow would be a doddle: but, having put on my sensible hat, better to arrive in Boston on the Saturday evening and have a day to myself. After all, there are some nice routes in and around there, right? I’ve had the pleasure of running in Boston before: along the Charles River before, out to Harvard and back… that hours after doing the Freedom Trail Run, an organised instance of runtourism… I ran over 26 miles that day! So I will explore more options.

(Not that such a process has already begun, you understand… not that I’ve had a preliminary, exploratory, non-committal look at to get to Hopkinton, Mass. on what would be Day 1 of my third year of runstreaking… oh no, not me!)

As those who’ve come to know me should expect, I’m getting increasingly grumpy, not least in my online persona. Which is not to suggest I’m a different individual when I engage with the world via’t’Internet, rather that my self-effacing sarcasm doesn’t always come across over a screen and can be construed as either pure disappointment or stupidity, especially when I’m commenting my runs on Strava. So I thought I’d look to set the record straight.

I recently described Bristol and Chester to someone as “the two races I’ll get stressed about”. Because I will. Because I do want sub-90’ and sub-3:30’ and will get genuinely hard on myself to get there, if only because I think both are within my grasp – albeit one more than the other…

…whilst far, far, far from taking my marathon goal for granted (this game never allows that), I am optimistic: I clocked 3:31’03” in Chester last year and I’m a better runner now, as the first 20mi in Manchester proved. I’m not feeling particularly optimistic about sub-90’ but reckon I’ve got a shot at it – especially if I can stay on my feet. What will be will be: and, if all the pieces fall into place, it could well be 1:29’59” after all. Let’s just not forget there are a lot of pieces.

Do I put myself under too much pressure? I’m just an amateur runner, after all. I don’t see the same faces week in week out; I’m not in competition with anyone; I’m a member of two clubs but hardly held accountable by either… I’m just your everyday runner with his (arbitrary) goals. So what if I don’t hit them?

Quite frankly, not a lot. If I get to that start line knowing I’ve prepared as well as I could, whatever that will have entailed, and if I get to that finish line knowing I gave it all that I had over those thirteenpointone miles, I’ll be happy regardless of the time. Seriously. It just so happens that times are our best indicators of just how well we prepared and ran..!

And OK, let’s address the underlying question… does the pressure I put myself under engender seizures? Is that why I passed out in Manchester, chasing a time, and not in the Highlands, which was a more relaxed affair?

Honest response: I don’t think so. I was doing well in Manchester and I do fear I may have taken my meds twice the morning of my seizure at parkrun. But don’t think I’m dismissing the possibility out of hand. I don’t do that. With anything.

. . .

One reason I’m so keen to hit these milestones over the next four weekends is that my focus next year will be different. Everything about 2015 will revolve around the West Highland Way Race – least it will if I get in, anyway… and I don’t mean in terms of entering the country!

The WHW is a 95-mile trail ultra. I will still run Greater Manchester Marathon, yes – not least because I’ve already entered it. And I suspect I will run at least one 2015 autumn marathon, yes. But the overriding objective will be to get my body in shape to run 95 miles, setting off at 1am on June 20, 2015. I suspect I will venture into nearby woods at night with my flashlight; I suspect I will run back-to-back marathons over the course of a weekend or two: and I suspect I’ll run a couple of ultras in the first half of the years, for training purposes. I’ve already entered The Green Man, a 46-miler around Bristol; and I will enter The Highland Fling as soon as entries open. What this year was one of my three goals will next April be a training run: sounds odd, but then most things on here do – right?

Anyway – don’t worry. I’m happy. Honest. Runner’s word. In fact…

…right now I’m enjoying the quality of life of my life. As I’ve outlined before, there are downsides to working from home: but being able to get up, go for a run, get home, see The Boys off to school knowing I’ll be there when they get home and not be stuck in some traffic jam – all that’s good stuff. Last Friday I was particularly grateful for not having to get to an office other than my home one: we were short on blackberries, so I put on my trail shoes and headed down to the Coast Path, making frequent restocking stops. At first glance, not the most beneficial of training runs: but then I needed an easy session and this was such a run, with the views over the Bristol Channel a welcome bonus. It’s hardly the equivalent of hunting and farming to feed the family, but there’s still something nice, something fundamentally simple and natural, about running along a country trail and bringing home some food. Even if one of the first things I heard Big’Un say once I’d got home was: “Can we go to McDonald’s this weekend?”. He’s seven and I think he’s been ‘there’ four times in his life, which I guess means it’s still something special to do. He probably had no ‘food’ in mind either, rather free toys – but then, as a marketer, I can only doff my cap off to McDonald’s. Not least since Burger King’s burgers taste so much better – least they did when I last had one, circa 2011…
…and yes, on Saturday we did head to the golden arches, where The Boys enjoyed putting together their Boxtrolls. But we had been on a mammoth conquer-hunting session beforehand! Mummy had a chicken sandwich, I opted for a chicken wrap. With a smoothie: calorie count didn’t seem too bad, and I’ll generally jump at the chance of anything with even a hint of pineapple. I did have an inner smile upon placing the order as the cashier felt obliged to check whether I really didn’t want fries… “No thanks. How much is it?”

No, I don’t always eat this healthily.
I just like to brag when I do.

Yes: I feel good, to the point I’ll even admit it. I feel good when I meet new people and I’m in good shape: I like to think it suggests I look after myself, it gives me confidence when introducing myself to new faces in a work-related context. And I don’t really meet new folk other than for work these days – other than at races, where I generally “blend in” more! I feel good when I eat good stuff, even though my total inability to cook and Karen’s need to feed a family of four means the recipe rarely comes out of one of the running nutrition-specific textbooks. I’ve read up on the topic and do keep promising myself to teach myself some cooking skills beyond pasta and omelettes: but I struggle to find some really basic instructions as a starting point… Even throughout University, I never needed to cook: whether I was living with my parents or later my grandparents, someone else would always do the cooking and never passed on what you probably take for basic, for granted. Then one weekend when my grandparents were away it dawned on me I had to do ‘something’ – found some pasta five years out of date, cooked it, threw it back in the pan with some cheese slices on it and here I am, still alive, twenty years later! Eating granola and hand-picked blackberries with Greek yoghurt, dipping raw carrots into houmous, supping self-made banana/apple/blackberry smoothies, routinely turning down cake… although now that we have a new oven in place and today’s blackberries can be converted to a crumble I may just give in! And yes, I will be force-fed Cornish pasties over the weekend at some point: I like them, but it’s hardly race food… and, as Karen correctly points out, there’s nothing wrong with them! Not unless you’re hell-bent on sub-90’, no… There you go, Squintani: need to learn some new skills! And at least this year you WON’T be eating fishandchips on the eve of the Bristol Half!!!

Last year’s night-before-BristolHM
meal. Don't ask. No, seriously, don’t.

I’m not sanctimonious about food, and pray God never will be. Hey, I’m one of the “squeezed middle” in this recession that’s apparently just over: Karen’s yet to return to work (although not for want of trying of late), I’m on reasonable but unspectacular money, we know perfectly well how hard it is to put “good stuff” on the table night after night after night and will knowingly take the occasional shortcut. Indeed, much as I feel a duty to ensure my kids grow up eating good food and in turn understanding why that’s important, I see little harm in taking them to McD’s once in a blue moon, if only for the fun of it. I can just about remember its appeal, back in my teenage years, say nipping into the one at the bottom of Fargate with Russ and Tac at just after midnight, when after an evening’s flywalling few things tasted better than a quarterpounder and a large strawberry milkshake… Besides, I believe most things are good for you, in moderation. I’m just in my pre-race state of awareness/panic, appreciative of the need to taper whilst also fearful of gaining weight as a result, so trying to be good: otherwise believe you me, I would have had a milkshake at McD’s in a flash! There’ll be time aplenty for beer and cakes afterwards… no, really, there will. After Chester, that is, anyway… And we had delicious homemade focaccia on Friday, with prosciutto crudo, pesto, soft cheese, cheddar… I just had to make sure I also got some healthy houmous in there!

Seriously: hopefully this post has alleviated any fears my online whining may have created. Now… where’s the rest of that blackcurrant, banana, Greek yoghurt and granola smoothie I made yesterday?

So if I’m moaning on Sunday afternoon, feel free to remind me of this post. Of the fact that sometimes it’s about the journey as much as the destination, that I trained wisely for the Bristol Half and therefore achieved the best I could. Oh, and Karen quite plainly said that she doesn’t care how long it takes me on Sunday, anyway – in a “I can’t be bothered” rather than a “you’ll be my hero regardless, Darlin” kinda way…

…but then again she did go on to add: “I hope you do well – but I’ll be happy as long as you finish and I don’t get any calls from an ambulance”.

Hmmm… Fair dos.

Si’thi later… And thank you running, thank you runners: for the fresh air, the laughs, the good times. Let they keep on rollin’.