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What a difference a week makes.  It may have been a tad fresh down at Southsea this morning (if a 30mph wind can be described as fresh) but the sun was out, the freezing temperatures gone and I found myself actually enjoying a run for the first time in weeks.  With my new best friends (Brooks Ghost 5's) safely broken in during the week I ran an easy and generally pain free 13 miles in just under two hours.  

Today may have been good, but I've been struggling in another way this week...... time.  When you decide to take on a challenge like this one you add pressure to the age old love triangle that exists between work, family and training time.  The work end of the trio is a high maintenance, hard hearted, jealous partner who does not want you to see the other two.  Using any means possible she'll track you down with her latest "crisis" to ensure you stay with her as long as possible and ensure you're thinking of her at all times.  With such a demanding partner in one corner it leaves you with less time to deal with the other two. 

The thing about running is that it's not something you can often do with the family.  Runners toil away for miles and miles to selflessly raise money for charity, on race day the family can join the fun, and will get a massive sense of pride from seeing you cross that line, but most of the time running is a relatively selfish thing to do.  As the weeks build the runs get longer and what used to be just popping out for a run turns into a half day extravaganza.  What used to be a couple of days a week threatens to become every day, gels and powders fill the cupboards, only certain foods can be eaten on training days  and worst of all sweaty, smelly lycra needs washing.  

The training program I intended to follow suggested I should be on the road five times a week.  I always new this wasn't going happen so I've aimed at four, but truth be known that between a hectic period at work and life in general I've managed that only once in the first nine weeks of my plan.  A week ago this was adding to the general malaise that I was feeling around all things running.  But I'm managing my long run distances with comparative ease and have yet to pick up anything other than a niggle so there's no need to panic. In fact, maybe I'm better off being relatively fresh.

Of course I may think that I'm not running enough but I'm still out of the house for a fair few hours a week.  A fair few hours that my wife Emma gets to spend looking after the kids alone, just like she does all week when I'm at the office.  A fair few hours that I very much enjoy. A fair few hours that I'm very grateful to her for.  So thank you Emma, your support so far is very much appreciated.  Only 11 weeks til this madness is over and we can get back to our usual routine.............. Remember, no sugar in my tea, make sure you boil the egg for exactly the prescribed four minutes and just leave the tray beside the bed if I've decided to lay in past ten this week.

 
There was a time before cable and satellite TV, a time before before the advent of Channel 4.  A time when it just wasn't possible to whine and whine and whine until your parents give in and put Peppa Pig on for the 15th time that day.  In those days you had to watch what your parents wanted to, and on a Saturday afternoon my dad wanted to watch World of Sport on ITV.  Having spent hours studying the form and not having put a bet on (far too risk averse to actually part with cash us accountants!) he'd be glued to the ITV7.  We'd either get to watch his theoretical picks romp home or, more amusingly, get to watch my mum decide to do the hoovering or a spot of dog training in the lounge just as the big race of the day was off.  Anyway, on some weekends the weather would be much like it has been recently.  Racing would be off, the football program decimated (denying us even the chance to watch the teleprinter for the afternoon) and Dickie Davis would have to front an afternoon full of alternative sports coverage.  Ice speedway was a favourite staple of such days (Ivan Mauger anyone?) but sometimes they'd cast their net wider and we'd see something altogether more unusual.

One such Saturday occured in February 1982 and we got to watch some sporting coverage that has stayed with me ever since.  Julie Moss, a student from Califormia, decided to enter the Ironman World Championship in Kona, Hawaii.  Doing so apparently as part of a college thesis and without having trained properly she tackled the 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike and 26.2 mile run.  Amazingly with only a few hundred yards of the run to go she was leading, not so surprisingly her unprepared body decided it had had enough and began to shut down on her.  The pictures provided by ABC sports were almost agonising to watch as she fell time and again, only to get up and stagger on.  Just 30 yards from the line she fell for the last time and whilst being tended to the eventual winner Kath McCartney jogged past.  Even then Moss wasn't done and she famously crawled over the line.

As I say I've never forgotten that footage and Julie has very much come to mind this week.  Not only because of the snow and those happy TV memories but because I've been struggling.  I'm moving into a phase of my training where I'll be tackling longer distances than ever before.  This has coincided with life just not allowing me time to run more than twice this week, the snow coming and a touch of the man flu making me feel generally crappy.  It seems easier to say "I can't do it" and slink away from this challenge but in reality I need to get a grip and get on with it.  So here follows this weeks pep talk to self....

When times are tough, when snow interrupts my training, when I'm feeling like chucking it all in, remember that you can make it.  26.2 miles may be a very long way, but it's not insurmountable and you can do it.  Missing a couple of sessions won't derail the whole training plan but I do need to be consistent with my training to be properly prepared. Failing that I'll just crawl over the line !!

Click here to watch Julie
 
It's 445 am, pitch black and I'm not really sure where I am.  Eventually I spy the door.  Trying to move as quietly as possible, so as not to wake anyone, I fumble for the key in my pocket and aimlessly thrust it in the general direction of the lock.  At the fourth or fifth attempt the key hits home and I'm in.  The door creaks open and I'm immediately blinded as harsh white lights spring into action.  Busted again by the old man after another heavy night out?  Nope, it's (apparently) much worse than that...I'm in the hotel gym in this week's Marriott and I'm about to do battle with the treadmill.

Looking at many of the posts on running forums this is a dirty little secret that I should keep to myself.  It seems that "The dreadmill" isn't real running and that I should probably man up and get out there rather than slink into the gym and run the rubber road.  In fact some might have it that I should probably not bother to run at all if I can't go outside and do it properly.  Well, I'm here to fight back with the top 7 reasons (couldn't think of 10 sorry!) why I like running indoors:

7. Cupholders - Until such time as I splash the cash and solve my hydration issues with a Camelbak or just bite the bullet and hold the drinks bottle, it's a lot easier to pick up my drink, take a sip and put it down every ten minutes.
6. Dodgy knees - Being somewhat geriatric and having given my ligaments a battering in a past life my legs don't take well to too much pavement pounding.  If I have to take the fake road to glory to get to the start line at all, then that's what I'm going to do.
5. I'm a scaredy cat - not only of getting lost at 5am in an unknown US town like last week but equally of running amongst the drunks and skunks of North End on a Friday night.
4. Nipple saving - If you let me bore you for long enough I'll tell you two things about the effects running have on me.  The first is on my poor poor nipples.  They've suffered so much over the last couple of years that the scar tissue keeps them up at all times.  Add in a cold north wind, the copious amount of sweat I produce on any run and the blood will surely follow.  On race days a top brand blister plaster will do the trick and keep me safe but peeling them off is stunningly painful.  Until such time as I "go Essex" some BodyGlide and the still air of the gym are the pain free option.
3. Football - I gave up on Sky Sports at home over a year ago.  There's no way that I'm able to sit alone in a room in my house for 90 minutes and watch football.  In fact 9  minutes without the TV being turned to Peppa Pig may well be our record, so timing a run for 4pm on a Sunday or to coincide with a mid-week game is a good way to kill the proverbial two birds.
2. Toilets on tap - Unless I eat plain pasta for 48 hours before a run or ram myself full of Imodium (the long term effects of being a regular user I am far from clear on) then I need to be sure that my route takes me past a convenience or two.  Being known for an encyclopedic knowledge of the toilets of Portsmouth is something that even George Michael would be less than proud.
1. Intervals - Actually this may be the only real reason, the one that I'd genuinely use to persuade all doubters to give the treadmill a go.  There is no doubt in my mind that running intervals at set speeds for set times improves my speed.  Outside I may try to run at a certain speed for a time but will inevitably slow and/or spend half the time looking at my watch to check my speed and the time.  In the gym, on the treadmill I can set my program and I know I'll get the exact minutes at the exact speed to improve me.

So there it is, I'm out and feeling good about it.  If you have any interest left after that ramble and are thinking of entering the "guess my time" competition I'm running you'll be interested to know that I spent 1h:50m on the treadmill and either covered 12 miles or stayed exactly where I was, you decide.
 
Six weeks down of my twenty week training plan. For those amongst you who might be planning a guess at my marathon time based on actual data I ran a shade under 9 nine miles today in 1 hour 20.  The route was very flat, conditions warm with no breeze and I spent the time watching Luis Suarez make his bid for the FA Fair Play Award.  For various reasons my long run ended up being on a treadmill which actually avoided me answering the question that's been bothering me this week..do I drink enough?.

I was reminded on Friday of the time I tried (for a friend, honestly!) to order a mineral water in The Sheperd's Crook pub just outside Fratton Park.  The bemused barmaid looked at me for a bit, wandered off to talk to the manager in hushed tones and came back with the news that " we do tap". In Portsmouth it seems we might be surrounded by the stuff but we're not that keen on drinking water and I've always been the same when it comes to my running.  

When I very first started to run I carried a bottle of water with me but it annoyed me and constantly sipping on it seemed to be more of a distraction than it was worth.  I'm a sweat monster when I run but I've found over time that I can run for about an hour without need for any water until afterwards.  On longer efforts (I've never run more than about 12 miles in training) I take an energy gel or two in my pocket and that helps me get round.  As April looms and I start to tackle longer distances I'm going to have to work out how to carry drinks and how much to take.  At this point I'm shopping the web for water belts and hydration backpacks (any tips anyone has much appreciated).  Either that or I'll ensure I run loops of Pompey that include Goldsmith Avenue and I can pop in for a glass of tap....