JogBlog running blog

On Tuesday I got up half an hour before my alarm to get ready for my first day back in the rat race after being an unemployed pikey for a month although obviously I didn’t prepare for it by not drinking and having an early night, oh no. I prepared for it by drinking and staying up late. But because I am hardcore, so hardcore in fact that I can complete a Salomon XT Wings Challenge without wimping out and eating fast food instead, I pack my running stuff as I also have a race tonight of the non-rat variety and I go to work in our posh new offices and they let me in even though the offices are very posh and I am very Essex and everyone was expecting me and are very welcoming and I make it through the day and I get the tube to a mate’s house as he’s giving me a lift to the race as he lives up the road from it and he drops me off and says he’ll be back in a bit and I get to the start line and we’re going backwards and forwards and I don’t know which way the start is and I don’t want to be at the front so I keep moving backwards but then the back becomes the front so I move to the back again and then eventually everyone seems to be facing in the same direction and then it starts and off we go into the forest and I didn’t know it was going to be in a forest and I could have worn my trail shoes, maybe even the Salomon XT Wings ones that I got to do my 100 Miles Challenge in (which I successfully completed by the way) and it’s very hot but it’s quite shaded in the forest and then we come to a hilly bit and I don’t like hilly bits but I manage to run up the hilly bit and then as I get to the top of the hilly bit I can see another hilly bit and I think oh no, not another hilly bit but when I get there it’s actually quite flat and there’s a really nice downhill bit and I like that bit and there’s another hill and I walk up the hill as it’s really hot and I’m thinking either it’s quite dark in here or I should have worn my glasses or maybe I’m dehydrated and going to black out soon as all I can see is fuzzy black bits in front of my eyes and I’m still going up and down the hills although walking up the up bits and then I’m on my own with no one in front of me but this is because I’m way way at the back and not because I’m way way in the lead obviously and I come to a bit where there’s no marshal and I don’t know which way to go so I stop and look blank and a man comes along and he stops too and looks blank so we look at each other in a blank way but then another man comes along and points us in the right direction and we carry on and eventually I stop going up and down the hills and I finish and it’s not a PB but never mind, maybe on Sunday when I’ve got another race, that’s if Shaun doesn’t make the hypnotist in the pub on Saturday make me spend the rest of my life pretending I’m a chicken or something and my mate is late to see me over the finish line as usual but he eventually arrives and we go to the pub and because it’s Veganthon I order a jacket potato and beans which I have to veganise by asking for no butter and no salad dressing and today is Thursday which means I have been vegan for three days. Hurrah. Just don’t ask me how my tee-totalathon is going.

Route

Splits

Stats
Distance: 5.08 miles
Time: 52:20
Pace: 10:18
Calories: 432
Uphills: lots
Downhills: 1
Friends turning up on time: 0
Veganised jacket potatoes with beans: 1
Veganthons completed: 3/31

I still haven’t learnt how to prepare for a race and I sit up late drinking and watching BB on Saturday night and don’t go to bed ’til 3am and I wake up at 6:30 and remember I’ve got a race and my alarm will be going off at 7 and I’m wondering if I can be bothered to go to the race and I’m thinking Golders Green is far north and why do people go there to get married and I think oh no, that’s Gretna Green which is even further north and I’m still trying to decide whether or not to go to the race and my alarm goes off and it reminds me of the olden days when I had a job and I lie there for 40 minutes listening to my alarm and thinking I should go to the race, I’ve paid for it, in fact I paid twice so I should definitely go and apparently you get a mug and I’ve never got a mug in a race before so I get up and get ready and leave the house at 8:30 and I get to Golders Green at 9:30 and there’s a couple on the tube and the man’s wearing shorts and I wonder if he’s going to the race and I can follow them to the start but I can’t decide if he’s a runner or not, he might just be wearing shorts today as it’s sunny and I get off the tube and as I’m standing on the corner peering confusedly at my map the man who was on the tube comes over and asks if I’m doing the race and I say yes, do you know where it is? and he says the newspaper vendor said it was this way and so I walk up to the race with the couple and I say to the girl you’re good, willing to stand around for an hour waiting for him and she says she decided to be supportive and it’s the first race she’s gone with him to but doesn’t think she’d wait at any races longer than a 10k and especially not if it’s raining and the man hasn’t got a number so he queues for his number and I put my bag away and we go to the start line and I say bye, good luck and the race starts and we have to go up the longest hill in the world ever and I think oh no, I’ve got to do that three times and I wonder how the speedy types will lap me as the pavements are narrow and after the first lap there’s a man spraying people with a hose and I think I don’t want to get my hair wet but I can’t avoid Hose Man and I think I don’t want to be sprayed by Hose Man another two times and after a couple of miles I’m getting lapped by lots of fit blokes and I think actually maybe laps aren’t so bad as then I get to see lots of fit blokes and as well as the longest hill in the world ever is a nice downhill bit but I’d better get used to hills anyway because I’m going to be seeing three very big hills when I do the Three Peaks Challenge in August and then I’m doing a lot of walking and my bladder is telling me maybe it was a mistake to drink three-quarters of a litre of orange juice just before the race and the marshals are very friendly and they’re clapping and I start to run again as it’s embarrassing to walk past a marshal and someone behind me says thanks marshal and I wonder how many marshals are called Marshal and I know a clerk called Clark and I walk/run the rest of the race and get to the finish and get my medal but there’s no signs of any mugs, only watermelon and I can’t see anyone with a mug and I think bloody hell, I got up early after only 4 hours’ sleep and I don’t even get a mug and I get back to the changing rooms and I still haven’t seen anyone with a mug and on the table are bottles of champagne for the speedy types and I unsurprisingly don’t see one with my name on it but I look at my Garmin and it tells me today I got a PB. Hurrah.

Racing bling

Today’s route

Splits

Stats
Distance: 6.22 miles
Time: 1:06:33
Pace: 10:43 m/m
Calories: 625
Longest hills in the world ever: 3
Men with hoses: 1
Fit blokes lapping me: lots
Medals: 1
Mugs: 0
PBs: 1
Juneathons completed: 18/22
Music
Jeff Buckley
Ting Tings
The B52s
The Beatles
The White Stripes
Mark Ronson
Bobby Conn
Cribs
Straw
THE 100 MILE CHALLENGE
Miles completed so far
89.23 out of 100 / 2 days left

Well it’s that time of year again when I get a free red t-shirt and run through the City of London with 1,999 other similarly attired runners. Yes, it’s the Crisis Square Mile Run which was my first ever race two years ago and therefore is my most favouritest race ever ever ever.

I decide to do another experiment and run without my iPod and “soak in the atmosphere”. My experiment lasts for approximately 100 yards when two girls next to me start screeching and I switch my iPod on to drown them out with my new favourite band, Black Kids.

We get under London Bridge and the race has come to a standstill as 2,000 people attempt to go up the stairs single file and we’re held up for ages and I look at my Garmin and it says we’ve gone .85 miles in 17 minutes which isn’t very fast really and I think we’re going to be a bit longer than the 35 minutes I said I’d be and Bernard the official bag looker afterer and beer getter inner will be getting bored and cold and there’s a man in zebra print and then there’s a dickhead dressed up as a doctor carrying a huge plastic hypodermic needle which he is perilously close to spiking people with, the twat, and we go past a lot of pubs and I have a brainwave and think next year, we could walk round and get a quick half in each pub along the route and then even lightweights like Bernard can join in instead of looking after the bags and getting the beer in although looking after the bags and getting the beer in is obviously a very important job and we get to the Millennium Bridge and have to do another lap and I do another lap and get back to the bridge and go up it and people are still just finishing their first lap and I think ha, I’ve lapped people, there’s a first time for everything and I get to the finish line and get my banana and water and go and wait for Kate to finish and I see her coming over the bridge and I start cheering and clapping and then Bernard says, er, that’s not Kate and I think oh shit I should have worn my glasses and I’ve just cheered and clapped a complete stranger and then a man on a spacehopper comes over the bridge and ha ha, Kate’s going to be beaten by a man on a spacehopper but Kate overtakes him and I make sure it is Kate this time and it is so I cheer and clap and then we go and rehydrate with beer and then go back to Paternoster Square to claim our goody bags

and I go and find Womble to say hello to and Kate and Bernard have picked up a goody bag for me then we go to the pub and near the pub is this nice building

then we go to Harry’s Bar to get pizza as Harry’s Bar does the nicest pizza in the City and when we’ve finished our pizza they bring us chocolates with the bill and they owe us 2p as they haven’t got any change so we say ok, we’ll let you off the 2p but you have to give us more chocolate and they do and then we go to another pub which is really crap and then I go to get the train home and at the station is a sign with a number you can text to grass up fare dodgers and for some reason I find this really funny.

Route

Splits

Stats
Distance: 3.32 miles
Time: 44:37
Pace: 13:26 m/m
Calories: 282
Time spent under London Bridge: 15+ minutes
Men dressed as zebras: 1
Dickheads waving spiky plastic things around: 1
Pub crawl ideas: 1
Kate lookalikes: 1
Men on spacehoppers: 1
Music
Black Kids
THE 100 MILE CHALLENGE
Miles completed so far
47.85 out of 100 / 12 days left

After getting the sack from my new job on Friday for the spurious reason that my twat of a boss found me a bit abrupt, I later find out that his old secretary came back from her travels early and asked for her job back. Wanker. I spend Saturday drinking and sulking and decide that I’m not getting out of bed today, let alone go and run a Race for Life with 10,000 women wearing pink and walking really slowly but by the time I drag myself off to bed at 3am I decide to set my alarm anyway and see how I feel in the morning. In the morning I feel shit but I decide to do my race and, after all, Juneathon starts today and the laws of Juneathon must be upheld.

I get in the right lane this year, the lane for runners, unlike last year when I joined the walkers by mistake and I think we’ve set off but everyone’s still walking and I don’t see a start line and then we get round the corner and I see the start line so we haven’t started yet and then there’s a countdown and it takes three minutes to get across the start line so I decide my Garmin time will be my official time and by the time we’ve gone .2 of a mile, people have already started walking and I decide to push anyone walking out of my way and then I see some shops that look familiar and I realise we’re running down Cheapside and I’ve just gone past my ex-work and I think I should have brought a petrol bomb with me or something and after about 2 miles I overtake a girl who had been walking in front of me and who’d I’d already overtaken and I think how did she get there? and then I realise SHE CHEATED!! She must have crossed over the island and CHEATED and I’m pretty sure if you cheat in a charity run then you definitely go to hell and then some woman barges into me so I elbow her in the ribs and she says sorry and at last the race is over and my Garmin says it was only 2.75 miles but because I spent most of it stuck behind people walking slowly I don’t qualify for free pizza which I have been promised if I can do a sub-30 5k and I go and get my medal and my goody bag which consists of a granola bar, cranberry juice, moisturiser, face wash, deodorant and a horrible brown lipstick but at least I got a goody bag unlike Shaun, who, in his last race only got a paper cup and speaking of Shaun he’s just started a blog so he can join in Juneathon, so go and take the piss out of say hello to him here.

Goody bag

Today’s route

Stats:
Distance: 2.75 mile
Time: 32:32 minutes
Pace: 11:50
Calories: 276
New jobs: 0
Hangovers: 1
Women wearing pink and walking really slowly: 10,000
Juneathons: 1
Music:
The Mission
Sisters of Mercy
Madonna
Faith No More
The Secret Machines
The Levellers
Baby Teeth
Hole
Chumbawamba
THE 100 MILE CHALLENGE
Miles completed so far
23.46 out of 100 / 24 days left

As Warriorwoman has impressively spent two days chasing tube lines, after cleaning my embarrassingly dirty kitchen, I enter three races and this sufficiently motivates me into venturing out into the Bank Holiday sunshine rain to keep up with the challenge within a challenge (although I am quietly confident that it won’t be long before Warriorwoman slacks off with pathetic excuses like exams/broken backs/flowers to water, etc.)

I go round the marshes and get soaking wet and I do my 3 mile route in just over 30 minutes and therefore it’s looking likely that I will do my sub-30 5k at Sunday’s RfL if I don’t get stuck behind too many pink-lycra-clad women walking really slowly whilst eating pies and therefore can claim my free beer and pizza. Hurrah.

Stats
Distance: 3.01 miles
Time: 30:05
Pace: 10:00 m/m
Calories: 303
Races entered: 3
Sunny weathers: 0
Rain: lots
30 minute marshes: 1
Free pizzas on the horizon: 1
Music
The Beatles
The The
The Smiths
Bobby Conn
Mika
The Mission

Miles completed so far
6.49 / 100

In preparation for today’s race, last night I sit up late drinking wine and watching Sex and the City and so this morning when my alarm goes off at 7, I sleep through it until 8 and I think shit, can I be bothered to go to the race? and I decide I can’t but then I think when I go to work tomorrow and they ask me how I got on, if I say I overslept and didn’t go, I’m going to look like a sad pathetic loser and I try very hard to cultivate an image that doesn’t involve looking like a sad pathetic loser and so I get out of bed and put on my running gear, grab the bottle of Gatorade that I picked up in Sainsburys to try because it was half price and get to Finsbury Park and wait for the train to Hornsey and I take a swig of the Gatorade and fuck me, that mings and I look at the label and it says it’s orange flavour and I think well that’s the weirdest tasting orange I’ve ever had and the train comes and I get to the park where the race is going to start and I’ve got ten minutes to go and then we’re off and as we’re going down a narrow alleyway someone keeps kicking my feet and I think fuck off and stop kicking my feet and they keep on doing it so I turn round to give them a dirty look and it’s Superman and I think SUPERMAN IS TRYING TO TRIP ME UP, bastard, and when we get to the hill that leads up to Alexandra Palace station I don’t even attempt to run up it and I walk but no one else seems to be walking unlike last year when everyone walked up it and as we’re going through Alexandra Park an excessively hairy man overtakes me and excessively hairy men ming more than Gatorade and I stop to walk to let him go far far far ahead into the distance because if I have to look at that for the next five miles there’s a good chance I will be physically sick and as I’m about to overtake a girl ahead of me she waves me past and I say thanks and I end up overtaking her another two times and each time she waves me past and then it’s getting on my nerves as I don’t need to be waved past, I can see where I’m going and if she waves me past again I’m going to punch her and I don’t seem to be in a very good mood today and I’m thinking that is probably due to too much wine and not enough sleep and then we’re nearly at the end of the race and I’ve taken quite a few walking breaks and going to get a crap time and I was promised free beer and pizza if I did sub-60 but that was never going to happen anyway and as we enter the park to the finish line there’s a deaf runner in front of me and I know he’s deaf as he has a sign on his back saying deaf runner and I wonder if it’s mean if I overtake him and I decide saying something mean about him would be mean as he couldn’t hear me but overtaking him isn’t mean and then I’ve finished the race and there’s a big cattle pen thing and it’s going really really slowly and I’m wondering if I really want to queue for half an hour just for a bottle of water and a banana and I decide I don’t but I can’t see how to get out of the cattle pen thing and so I stay in it and I get given a bottle of water and a coconut water drink but no banana and I go to look for the doughnuts and while I’m in the doughnut queue I read the label on the coconut water and it says “Inside every young coconut is a refreshing electrolyte-replacing beverage that far surpasses every artificial sports drink.  Vita Coco is fat-free and an excellent source of potassium, manganese and magnesium.  In fact, this 100% pure life enhancing beverage has also been proven to increase vitality, ease digestion, cure hangovers and …” WOAH, HANG ON A MINUTE, CURES HANGOVERS?  What the fuck?  And I’m thinking they should give them out at the start of races, especially the ones I’m at as I’m not very good at the no drinking the night before a race thing and the label carries on “… literally save people’s lives”.  Literally save people’s lives?  Yeah right.  How can coconut water save people’s lives?  Lassie saved people’s lives but he used to alert passers-by by barking, as far as I’m aware, coconuts don’t bark.  And I’m not sure a prime-time TV programme about coconut water is going to be a hit either.

And after I’ve got my doughnut and finished reading the back of the hangover-curing life-saving coconut water I go and find the t-shirt tent but the queue for t-shirts is about two thousand miles long and I can’t be bothered to go to the back of the two thousand mile long queue which is a shame because the t-shirts look quite nice and so I go home instead and I’m home by 12:15 and I eat my doughnut and the doughnut must be laced with sleeping pills because suddenly I can’t keep my eyes open and I go to bed and don’t wake up ‘til 4:30 and I’ve wasted a whole afternoon sleeping.  Bah.

Stats
Distance: 6.34 miles
Time: 1:10:13
Pace: 11:04 m/m
Calories: 633
Early nights in preparation for race day: 0
Supermen trying to trip me up: 1
Excessively hairy men: 1
Annoying women waving me past: 1
Life-saving coconut water drinks: 1
Doughnuts: 1
Two thousand mile t-shirt queues: 1
Music
Duran Duran
Madonna
The Smiths
Depeche Mode
Rolling Stones
The Jam
The Mission
Massive Attack

I still haven’t retired. Honest. And I know it looks like that if I haven’t retired, then I’ve at least gone part-time but that’s not true either. I had a string of injuries but things come in threes and now I’ve had three and so that should be that and now I’m back in the land of the living, running and blogging. Hurrah.

I spend Monday evening printing off maps so I can plot my new running commute that www.walkit.com has plotted for me and I spend my lunch hour today drawing on the map in blue highlighter pen and I’m thinking I’m going to get lost as it’s a completely different way to my old commute and it even misses out Murder Mile and so at 6 o’clock tonight I set off for my new running commute and try and find somewhere to stand and wait for my Garmin to pick up a signal. I’ve also brought out the Nike+ Sportband for another test but the display is completely bolloxed now and is unreadable. Bah. Still, I have my trusty Garmin and it doesn’t take too long to get a signal and I follow my map up to Moorgate and past Old Street and through Hoxton and into Dalston and then across the road on the right I see the road I used to go down on my old commute and I think hmm, shall I go that way as I know where I’m going if I go that way but I decide to put my faith into The Map and it’ll be a change anyway and a change is as good as a rest so I continue going left and the road on the right wasn’t the road I thought it was because I come to the road I thought it was and this time it definitely is that road and I think hmm, shall I go that way as I know where I’m going if I go that way but once again I decide to put my faith into The Map and keep on going up the road and then I’m in Stoke Newington and as I’m crossing a road I walk into a pitbull and I think shit, it’s going to bite my leg off now but it’s a nice doggy and doesn’t bite my leg off and it’s hooded owner doesn’t shoot me either and I say sorry to the dog and carry on and I’ve done 3.5 miles which is more than I’ve done for two weeks and I’ve got a 10k on Sunday which I’m going to struggle round and I decide to walk until I get to 4 miles and I get to Stoke Newington station and I need to turn off and I start running again and then I’ve gone too far and I’ve gone the wrong way but I think that’s not bad only going the wrong way once so far on my new running commute and my navigation skills are obviously improving and I find the way I need to go and I’m in Clapton and I’m thinking this can’t be Clapton, it looks nice round here and it’s very different to the Murder Mile bit and I need to find Spring Hill and I see a road without a road sign and it’s definitely a hill, in fact, it’s the steepest hill I’ve seen ever ever ever, or is at least the steepest hill I’ve seen since the last time I saw a steep hill and it’s all downhill and I think weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, and I run down the hill and then I’m at the marina and I know where I am and I get home and I didn’t suffer too badly on my first run for over two weeks and may even make it to my race on Sunday. Yay.

Today’s route

Stats
Distance: 6.63 miles
Time: 1:23:40
Pace: 12:37 m/m
Calories: 604
New running commutes: 1
Times went the wrong way: 1
Times looked at map: millions
Walking breaks: quite a few
Music
Cardiacs
Sleeper
Bobby Conn
Jamiroquai
Jesus & Mary Chain
Foo Fighters
Missy Elliot
Levellers

Contrary to popular belief, I haven’t retired. I have been resting. Resting my finger that is, and my finger needs resting because last Saturday I had a few friends round for dinner for a celebrate-me-getting-a-new-job thing and while I was being the hostess with the mostest, instead of rinsing the rice, I rinsed my finger with boiling water and then it looks like this:

Ouch.

I ice it with the runner’s obligatory ice-pack-in-freezer and after that goes warm, it’s replaced by a packet of frozen Quorn mince. Then, ignoring my friends’ pleas to go to the hospital, after dinner I drink more wine and watch Sex and the City and then my finger feels better. Until the next day when it hurts like fuck.

I eventually get myself down to the Minor Injuries Unit at Barts after work on Monday (yes it was two days later but I’d rather walk around with a huge blister than go and sit in A&E and queue up for 5 hours behind 20,000 immigrants who are using it like their local GP’s practice) and my blister gets drained and dressed and then I look like some weird alien pointing thing. Cool.

And that is my excuse for not having run this week. Although I did run last Saturday morning but haven’t blogged it yet due to it being necessary to incorporate a review of a cheesy 40 minute workout MP3 I was sent which will mean having to listen to it again to remind myself of it and I haven’t been able to bring myself to do that yet because – unsurprisingly perhaps – it contains no Bobby Conn or Cardiacs, only the likes of the Birds Eye Peas or whatever they’re called. [Update - it is blogged now, see post below]

So this morning I decide to have my comeback. And I decide to ditch the marathon training and concentrate on getting my 5k and 10k speeds up. This has nothing to do with the fact that londonjogger is getting seriously speedy and we’re going to be doing the same 5k soon. Honest.

Also motivating me to get out of the door and stop being a fat bloater is the Nike+ Sportband that I was sent to try out

and as I’m getting dressed I realise my trousers are Nike, as is my t-shirt. If anyone had told me a couple of years ago I’d be wearing head to ankle Nike, I’d have laughed. Then punched them.

As I am only head to ankle Nike-clad, and not head to toe, I haven’t got any of those Nike shoes with the holes in so, following the lead of Joggerblogger, I undertake the Joggerblogger bodge job and tape the Nike+ link to my shoe and now with my weird alien pointing finger and a running shoe covered in masking tape I am going to go outside and look like a freak.

I am slightly disappointed by the fact that I seem to have been sent a sub-standard Sportband that only shows half the display but undeterred I go outside and press the button down for 3 seconds and it tells me to walk so I do as I’m told and I walk and after a few seconds it’s ready to begin recording and I press the button again and start to run. I have already been confused by how it can know how far I’ve gone without GPS and even though it goes by footstrikes, how does it know how long your stride is? I quickly realise that it’s going to need calibrating when, after my Garmin (which I have faithfully strapped to my left wrist) says I’ve gone half a mile, the Sportband reckons I’ve done almost a mile. Oh. As the Sportband ticks over 5k, I glance at my Garmin and it says 27 minutes. Ha ha, very funny. The Sportband is obviously lying.

After my week of eating pizza, chocolate and crisps, not visiting the gym or going running, I am feeling very fat and unfit and the wrong side of 9 stone and this is reflected in today’s run which has me stopping after my dubious 27 minute 5k for a bit of a walk. And there was me thinking I was going to come out today to break all land/speed records. Ho hum.

I walk/run the rest of the way and as I’m going through a particularly deserted bit there’s a young lad by the railings crouching and looking at his phone. I’m deciding whether to be scared or not and I decide not to be scared as it’s a gorgeous day and loads of people around and he walks towards me and I think he’s going to ask me the time or something and I must have my worried look on my face (in fact, I think that’s probably my usual look) and he puts his hands up and says “it’s ok, don’t be scared” and I smile and say “it’s ok, I thought you were going to say something” and I carry on walking/running and I get home after doing the slowest 10k ever (although the Sportband has registered this as 7.2 miles) and I’m going to need to speed up as I’ve got a 10k race in about 3 weeks. And a 5k in about a month. And it’s about time I managed a 5k in less than 30 minutes.

Back to the Sportband. Did I like it? Hmm, yes and no. The display is small and a bit hard to read, although this is because the band is small and cool, unlike my Garmin which takes up half my arm and is neither small nor cool. Also, because I am so used to the Garmin telling me on one screen my distance and pace, having to press a button on the run to scroll through the different units might take a bit of getting used to. Saying that though, distance is the default and that’s the only one I’m really interested in while I’m on the move so I’m probably being picky.

Set up was easy as was uploading the data. Stick the link in a USB port and you’re done. Your run gets automatically uploaded to the Nike+ website and there you can view some pretty graphs and get the code for a widget on your blog/website/social networking page. There’s lots of other ways to waste your time on the Nike+ website too that I haven’t fully explored yet.

Pros:
No need to stand around for three hours waiting for a satellite signal
Looks cool
Doesn’t take up half your arm or make you look like a Star Trek extra
Can get pretty graphs from the Nike+ website

Cons:
Needs calibrating
Small display
Fiddly button while on the move
Need Nike shoes or pay extra for a pouch or use masking tape and look like a freak

Summary
Looks cool, might work well when calibrated, probably won’t be taking over from my Garmin but would wear on a treadmill

Stats (Garmin)
Distance: 6.22 miles
Time: 1:15:14
Pace: 12:05 m/m
Calories: 601
Huge blisters: 1
Weird alien pointing things: 1
Nike+ Sportbands: 1
Fake 27 minute 5ks: 1
Stats: (Nike+ Sportband)
Distance: 7.19 miles
Time: 1:15:14
Pace: 10:28 m/m
Music
Jeff Buckley
Secret Machines
The Ruts
Jamiroquai
Muse
The Go! Team
Lush
Jane’s Addiction
Marc Almond
The Cooper Temple Clause

I admit it.  I have been slacking.  I bailed out of running altogether at the weekend, not even thinking of doing my 15 mile cross country race or even doing a long run by myself, due to the fact that after a load of wine, chocolate and crisps the night before I was feeling decidedly ropey.

Monday morning sees me back at work after my two week break, the first week of which I spent looking (successfully) for a new job and I tell my boss I was offered another job while I was off and that I’m leaving.  He says that’s nice, well done and that I’ll be missed as I do a good job.   And I tell the agency I’m leaving on Wednesday 30 April and does the new firm want me to start on Thursday or can they wait ’til Tuesday 6 May after the Bank Holiday?  I cross my fingers while I wait for him to get back to me that they don’t mind waiting.  The agency emails and says the Tuesday will be fine.  New job, more money, time off before I start the new one. Result.

This morning I’m feeling the effects of being in the pub all evening the night before without eating and only getting five hours sleep but I have resolved to do a running commute tonight and so a running commute I shall do.

I head off for my commute and I’m glad I won’t have to do it for much longer as soon I’ll have a new commute to do, the route of which I’ve already printed off and it looks like most of it takes me a different way entirely although it still brings me to Murder Mile and as I get to Murder Mile today I see a man and I’m looking at him as there’s something not quite right and I realise it’s because he’s wearing a tie and looks very out of place and it’s still light and I cut through Millfields and decide to go through the marshes and as I get to the stables there’s a man walking through without a dog but I decide he’s just on his way home, same as me, and as I get towards the footbridge there’s a young lad with a dog which would  usually make him more trustworthy in my eyes but as he is drinking a can of Tennants Super and has a pitbull he’s looking more untrustworthy the nearer I get to him and so I speed up over the bridge and back to the safety of the street and cutting through the marshes seems to have knocked almost a mile off my running commute.  Cool.

Stats:
Distance: 5.56 miles
Time: 1:06:44
Pace: 12:00 m/m
Calories: 528
New jobs: 1
Men wearing ties in Murder Mile:  1
Young men drinking Tennants Super with pitbulls: 1
Music:
The Ting Tings
Rollins Band
The Cult
Hole
Faith No More
Plain White Ts
The Killers
U2

HILLS!!! There were hills. No one told me about the hills. Loads of them. And mostly uphill ones too. Did I mention the hills? Fuck. My shins are never going to talk to me again. (And yes they did used to talk to me, before you say “what? You have talking shins?”. And no, I can’t tell you what they used to say. A conversation between a girl and her shins is confidential.)

Anyway…

Actually, I need chocolate. To be specific I need a Peanut Butter KitKat Chunky. I have had pizza, garlic bread, twister fries (or whatever they’re called), wine, beer, Deep Heat, more wine, a hot bath, voltarol, more wine, procastination in the form of Scrabulous on Facebook and now I’m going to procrastinate some more before writing this blog in the form of going to the shop in the quest for a PBKKC.

Yah.

I think I need some crisps too.

Angela is harassing me on Facebook to write my blog.

I’ll be back.

In a minute.

After the Peanut Butter KitKat Chunky and crisps emergency.

I am back but Peanut Butter KitKat Chunky-less. Bah.

Right then, proper race report time.

I get up mega mega mega early at 5:30am (that’s 5:30 IN THE MORNING ON A SUNDAY, you know, the time people are getting out of clubs, pah) and look in my Ladybird book of How To Be A Finely Tuned Athlete and it says on race day to eat 800 calories for breakfast. WHAT THE FUCK? 800 calories for breakfast? I don’t even eat 800 calories a day on a non pizza day. Blimey. I decide to go against the grain of the not doing anything new on race day rule and have some toast and peanut butter and also an energy bar and then I think fuck, if there’s a don’t do anything new on race day rule then I might as well have gone out and got pissed last night as I can’t remember the last time I did a long run without a hangover, bollocks.

And then I waste some time on Facebook and check my emails but of course no one is emailing me at 5:30 IN THE MORNING ON A SUNDAY so I mooch around for a bit and check the bus times and I decide to go for the 7:13 bus to Leyton and I leave the house at 7ish and the bus is early and there’s no traffic and it zooms me down to Leyton and I get to the tube and it says the next Epping train will be in 17 minutes. 17 MINUTES? What the fuck? Blimey. I do have lots of time but I don’t really want to be standing around in the tube station for 17 minutes so I play on Facebook and check my emails on my phone but still no one is up because it’s only 7:30 IN THE MORNING ON A SUNDAY and the tube eventually comes and I get on it and get to Woodford and the girl opposite me is wearing running gear and looks like a proper runner to me and I reckon she’s doing the half so I wait for her to get off so I can follow her and she gets off so I follow her but she stops outside the station and I can’t see any other runners about which thwarts my plan of following everyone out of the station so I ask the lost looking girl if she’s doing the half and she says yes and she says do I know the way and I say no, I was hoping to follow you and she says I think it’s this way and so we walk off the way we think it is and there’s two guys behind us following us as they think we know where we’re going and we do find the playing fields and the clubhouse without getting lost and she goes to get changed and I go and sit in the corner and hide and hope no one outs me for being a fake runner and then I think hang on a minute, I’ve got this far and I’ve trained for this, I’m not a fake runner, I’m just a bit slow, and I venture out of my corner but only make it to the next chair and I sit down and hide again and I don’t know if I can leave my stuff here and I’m looking around and can’t see anyone with an iPod and I wonder if it’s a no iPod race and then I remember that I did read the race pack carefully and there was no mention of no iPods and I go to the loo and there’s a woman queueing with an iPod and I say ah, I’m not the only one with an iPod then, I thought I was and she says no, you’re not the only one and I say I thought maybe they weren’t allowed and she says why wouldn’t they be? and another woman behind her says because they’re dangerous and you can’t hear the marshals and the traffic and stuff and I think ooooooooh nooooooooooooooo, it’s one of those anti-iPod people but then I realise she’s also wearing an iPod and I’m pleased to be around kindred iPod spirits and I go outside and wait for my Garmin to get a signal which, being in the countrysideish, only takes a few seconds as opposed to being in the West Endish where it takes a few hours and I see the iPod wearing woman so I go over and say hello and she says I can run with her for the first few miles and I say cool, when actually I’ve just come out in a cold sweat at the thought of running a few miles in a race with someone else but I don’t want to look unfriendly so I stick with her and I say my name’s Cathy and she says she’s Gill and then I go to ask if it’s with a G or a J and then I think if I do that she’ll ask me if my name’s spelt with a C or a K and it’s just going to get complicated and it doesn’t really matter anyway and we make our way down to the start line and Gill says we have to do a lap of the track first, then there’s a smaller lap of about a mile and then there’s two big laps of about six miles with lots of hills and I think LAPS? HILLS? can I go home now? Fuck.

The gun goes off and Gill says to me that if I want to go faster than her then to feel free to just leave her and I say it’s fine, you’re faster than me anyway (having already had the what time are you looking at conversation in the toilet) and we do a lap of the track and then go to go outside the gate where already there has been a collision of runners, leaving three of them on the ground but they don’t look badly hurt and we continue for the first small lap and then there’s a hill which is the first of many and Gill says there’s a lot of hills and I think DON’T TELL ME THAT, I DON’T DO HILLS and about three miles and twenty six hills later Gill says what do you think of the hills and I say they’re not that bad really, not as bad as I was expecting and she says you must be better at hills than you thought (as we’d already had the I don’t do hills conversation) and I’m just thinking that I’ve just done a really slow 5k and I decide I want to speed up a little and just listen to my iPod and I leave Gill and feel a bit bad but think I need to run this race for myself and not be at another person’s pace and especially not for 13.1 miles and so I go off on my own and there’s no water for miles and miles and I’m glad I’ve got my sports drink although it is almost gone seeing as I drank most of it on the way there and I’m quite impressed for getting the hang of using the squirty top thing and that’s another don’t do new on race day thing that I’m doing and the sun is shining and it’s bloody roasting and a few miles later I’m going up ANOTHER HILL and a there’s a woman with a little girl and the little girl has a banner saying GO DADDY and I think aaaaaaaah, sweet and she’s going towards a man and a bit later I go past the 11 mile marker that I will see on the second lap and it reminds me I’ve got about 7 miles to go and I think fuck and I go to go past the man who’s daughter had a banner and he says hello how’s it going and I say I could have done without seeing that 11 mile marker, two miles I could cope with, I’m not sure about another 7 and he starts chatting and I say was that your daughter with the banner? and he says no, she was for someone else, I have all sons and I say ah, I thought she was yours, it was sweet and then I think oh shit, he might think I’m checking him out for kids and eek and I don’t want to run and chat to him for another seven miles and I’m wondering if I can lose him and I get my chance when he says hi to another runner and I speed off and the laps gets to the finish and I think shit I’ve got to do that again and there’s eventually a water station and I grab a bottle of water as my sports drink’s about to run out and there’s ANOTHER HILL and I think that’s unfair and there’s a girl walking and I wonder if it would be patronising if I try to give her some encouragement but she catches my eye and I give her a big smile and say come on and she starts running and we’re chatting and she tells me she left her proper running shoes at work and had to borrow some trainers from a friend and I think ouch and I ask her what other races she’s done and she says this is her first and I think ouch and I ask her if she’s done lots of training and she says a bit here and there and I think ouch and she says she’ll let me go as she’s had enough and wants to walk again so I leave her and go UP THE HILL and these bastard hills are killing me but then I get to the nice scenic downhill bit and my Garmin ticks over the 10 mile mark at 1:45 and I think fuck that’s quick for me and only three miles to go but at 11 miles my shins are burning like someone’s set fire to them and I don’t think I can carry on but I am determined to NOT WALK AN INCH OF MY FIRST HALF MARATHON and so I carry on and I get to the bit where the lollipop marshals stop the traffic but the lollipop marshal doesn’t seem to be stopping the traffic for me and I’m a bit dazed and confused by now so I go up to the marshal and he says just cross when the cars slow down and I think AREN’T YOU GOING TO STOP THE TRAFFIC FOR ME?  DON’T MAKE ME MAKE MY OWN DECISIONS.  Fuck.  And so I have to cross the road on my own and I manage this without getting run over and I’m looking at my Garmin and it’s going so so slowly and I think my shins are going to leave me and get a taxi home and then at 12:9 miles I’m stuck behind two pensioners on crutches and there’s railings on the side of the pavement and I can’t get around them and I think fuck can I kick their crutches out from underneath them? and I think probably not and I eventually get around them and back to the playing fields and Ben, Sheila and Eleanor are there and they give me a big cheer as I get round the corner and I don’t know where the finish line is so I keep going and then I think I’ve finished and I hear someone call me and I look round and it’s Bernard and I think yay my friends have come to see me and I stop and say hang on a minute and I go and get my medal and my goody bag and then I go back down to see my mates and inspect my goody bag which consists of a bottle of sports drink and a Mars Bar and I have hated Mars Bars ever since I had one when I was five years old and promptly threw up afterwards and say who likes Mars Bars? and Bernard and Eleanor both say I do at the same time so I give it Eleanor what with her being 12 and that and then we try and find something to eat while I try to walk and we fail hopelessly at finding something to eat due to it being Mother’s Day and everywhere being booked and I fail hopelessly at walking due to my shins having left me and getting a taxi somewhere around mile 12, so we end up at Ben and Sheila’s eating delivery pizza, garlic bread, twister fries and lemon drizzle cake.  Yah.

Today’s route

Racing bling

Stats:
Distance: 13:15 miles
Time: 2:19:44
Pace: 10:37
Calories: 1272
Hills: Twenty six million
Mars Bars: 1
Shins leaving me to get a taxi: 2
Music:
The Twang
Hole
Faith No More
B52s
Bobby Conn
Arctic Monkeys
The Music
Muse
The Damned