Royal Parks Half Marathon race report

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It’s the night before the Royal Parks Half and I’m at home alone having chosen to not go out and get pissed but to get pissed at home instead stay in and get some rest and by 11pm I’ve decided that I’m probably not going to go to the race due to a) having drunk too much in a not very conducive to getting up early and running 13.1 miles kind of way; and b) not really seeing the point in turning up due to having done bugger all training but I wake up feeling surprisingly fresh and decide to go to the race but leave the house a bit later than intended and I get to the park and text Warriorwoman to let her know I’m at the park and she says she’s at the climbing wall and I haven’t a clue what the climbing wall is but when I get to the festival area I see it and I go to put my bag in but there’s a huge queue and by the time I get out of the queue it’s 9:50 and I go to the climbing wall but Warriorwoman’s not there so I think she must have gone to the start so I go to the start but I can’t see her due to there being about 20 million people there and a woman behind me keeps treading on me and when she treads on me for the fourth time I say FOR FUCKS SAKE and turn around and give her the evils and she says sorry and I’m wondering why I go to these big races that have 20 million people in them when I don’t like people or crowds and the gun eventually goes and people walk a few steps and I eventually get over the start line 7 minutes after the gun goes off and my plan is to run 8 miles and walk the rest if I have to as I’ve only done 7 miles in training and I do the first mile and it’s a bit quick and I think I have to slow down a bit and I’m dying for a wee as I didn’t have time after dropping my bag off and we go past a fountain which doesn’t make me want a wee any less and I’m wondering if I can go behind a tree and not be seen and then a girl comes off the path and squats down behind a tree and I think fuck that, I’m not that desperate, I’ll wait until I see some public toilets and I wonder where there are any and I’m nearly at two miles and I think I can’t carry on for another 11 miles bursting and it’s all I can think of and I see an underground station sign and I think what’s that station? and it’s Westminster station and on the sign it says toilets and I think hurrah and I go through the railings and down into the station and fuck, it costs 50p and I haven’t got any money on me and so I crawl under the turnstile thing and hope the attendant doesn’t come out of her hole and gets me although I’m so desperate I would be able to convince her it was an emergency but she doesn’t come out of her hole and I use the loo and ah, that’s better and I go back outside and I think what if everyone’s gone now and I’m all by myself and I won’t know which way to go but there’s still people coming and I rejoin the race and there’s a long stretch down the Embankment and I look at my watch and think Shaun must have finished his Ashford 10k by now and I wonder what his time was and at four miles the ball of my big toe on my right foot is hurting, as is the arch of my left foot is and I think oh no, that’s no good, I’ve got another 9 miles left but then I go past a man lying on the pavement being given oxygen by the paramedics and I wonder if he’s ok which he obviously isn’t and I wonder why he’s so bad after just four miles and there’s loads of people walking in charity vests and I think make a fucking effort if you’ve been badgering your friends, family and work colleagues into giving you money and I’m thinking why do I do these big races when the people who run them just bug me and it’s almost as bad as a Race for Life but at least I’m not surrounded solely by women in pink lycra walking really slowly and then we’re back in Hyde Park after going past Big Ben and the London Eye and Trafalgar Square and Buckingham Palace and running in the middle of Central London roads is really cool and with the crowd support it must be a little taster of what the London Marathon’s like, although I won’t get to know, what with me being a reject and that and I come to a water station and they’re giving out Powerade and I’m hoping Powerade doesn’t ming as much as Gatorade and it doesn’t ming and I get to the halfway mark and then on the other side of the path is the 10 mile marker and the faster runners are coming past and I think bollocks, they’re three miles ahead and at 8 miles I see Warriorwoman on the other side of the path and we give each other a wave and she looks like she’s enjoying herself and I realise I haven’t walked yet and I think I’ll see how I feel at 10 miles and if I want to walk then I will and I eventually get to 10 miles and I think hurrah, just a little 5k left to do, that’s nothing, but at just before 11 miles I think I’m going to have to stop and walk and I do and fuck, my feet, shins and knees are killing and I wonder if it’d be less painful to run as walking’s not really happening and I start to run again and then walk again for a bit and there’s a girl in front who keeps looking back for her mate and looping back to let her catch up and then running off in front again and I think STOP LOOKING BACK, EITHER RUN WITH YOUR MATE OR DON’T and she does it again and again so I keep running to get away from her but each time I stop to walk she overtakes and does her looking back and looping to let her mate catch up thing so I keep running and then I realise I’m surrounded by women and I think where have all the men gone? and I think I’ll have to get faster so I have some fit blokes to look at at races and then there’s a girl in front of me with a message on her t-shirt that she’s running in the memory of her brother and I think fuck that, I can’t have that in front of me for two more miles so I overtake her but I’m in pain and I have to walk but she overtakes me so I have to run again but then I have to stop again and Dead Brother Girl overtakes again so I have to run again and this goes on and on and I think fuck it, I’ll just run the rest of the way and then I’m on the last stretch and I can see the finish line and I think hurrah and the miles have just flown by and it’s been the best race ever and a beautiful sunny day and I get my wooden medal and go and get my bag and Shaun has texted to say he did his 10k in 45 minutes the speedy little git and Gary has texted to say he’s going to be late due to tube problems so I go and wait for Warriorwoman to finish then she texts me to say she couldn’t finish so I wander off and eventually meet up with Gary who is very very very late and we get pizza and spend the rest of the day in the pub.  Hurrah.

Route

Bling

Splits

Stats

Distance: 13:34 miles
Time: 2:25:40
Pace: 10:55 m/m
Calories: 1,209
Music
Bobby Conn
Cardiacs
Black Kids
MGMT

One of those hateful running-home-from-work things

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I go to work and by 9:53 my boss has started swearing at me for something REALLY TRIVIAL and by 10:00 he has apologised for swearing at me for something REALLY TRIVIAL but it’s pissed me off and the rest of the day doesn’t go much better and people are annoying and having their stupid inane grandmother meetings round my pod and I think can’t you go and have your inane conversations somewhere else? and I take my iPod for a walk at lunchtime and go round the block and get back marginally more chilled out and for once it’s quiet at lunchtime and people aren’t having their really loud inane conversations that they have at lunchtime when they feel they have the freedom to be really loud which I suppose they do really but it’s still fucking annoying and the only light relief comes later when I find out that four more people are leaving which means that ten people have now defected to another firm and I find that really funny and I wonder if they’ll give me a job as it must be good over there and I go to do my running-home-from-work-thing and my boss comes over and says are you running home? and I say yes and he says that’s keen and I think aaaaaarrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhh I hate the word keen and why do people insist on using that stupid word but I can’t think of another word except for eager but that’s just as bad and running home isn’t keen, it’s called training except in my case it would be better off being called taking-the-long-way-home-when-it-would-be-much-easier-and-quicker-to-get-on-the-train-instead-although-there-are-people-on-the-train-and-I’m-not-being-much-of-a-people-person-today and I go to run home and I have to walk almost to Angel before my Garmin decides to get a signal but at least then I don’t have to run up the hill and all the way down Essex Road are women with their stupid babies in their stupid buggies getting in my way and I’m thinking are babies in buggies the new cyclists? and I get to the end of Essex Road where it joins Balls Pond Road and a cyclist goes through the red light and I give him a dirty look and he sees me give him a dirty look so I complete the I’m-a-miserable-cow effect by calling him a wanker but it has no discernible effect so I carry on doing my running thing and I’m trying to go through the puddles to cool down my feet which are burning as I think I need new trainers and I had a record three black toenails the other day but the puddles aren’t deep enough to go over the top of my trainers and I get to Murder Mile and there’s a cyclist on the pavement but I keep it zipped due to Murder Mile being called Murder Mile for obvious reasons although I’m not entirely sure the reasons are to do with cantankerous female joggers being murdered due to swearing at cyclists but I keep schtum to be on the safe side and it’s getting dark and I think I can’t go through the path I’m too scared and I’ll have to go past Somerfield but I do need some cat food but can I go to Somerfield without buying wine too? and I think no, I can’t, in fact I think it might be illegal so I go to Somerfield and buy wine and fuck, it’s nice.  Yah.

I am a reject

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I get home last night after the gym to find the rejection mag from the London Marathon on my doormat and I think ho hum, I didn’t want to do it anyway and I get inside and there’s a little red light on my phone notifying me that someone’s left a message and I think I bet that’s Shaun saying he’s been accepted and I eventually retrieve the message and it’s Shaun saying he’s been accepted and I go to ring him back and I think I bet it’s engaged because he’s ringing everyone to tell them he got accepted and his phone’s engaged because he’s ringing everyone to tell them he got accepted and I eventually get through to him and he’s all excited as he’s been trying to get in for four years and I tell him his conspiracy theory that females get in on their first go is bollocks as I’m a reject and he says oh and carries on being excited and I get off the phone and I have a bit of a lurk on the Runner’s World forum and people there are excited about getting in and then I think it’s not fair, I want to do it now and I look at the charities and the Guide Dogs want £1,200 sponsorship for a bond place and I think can I be arsed to raise that kind of money and I think no I can’t and I think do I want to spend £1,200 of my own money on a place and I think do I bollocks and so I think oh well, I didn’t want to do it anyway and I will go back to plan A and do an overseas marathon, probably Berlin and I read somewhere you get a free pint after that one and that sounds like my kind of marathon.  Yay.

But as I haven’t been informed by the Royal Parks half that they don’t want me in their half anymore as if I’m not good enough for the FLM, then I’m not good enough for them, I decide I’d better do my last long run and as I’m looking up marathon training schedules for Shaun (see, I’m not that bitter really) on the Hal Higdon site, I have a look at the half schedule to see what the last long run is and it’s 10 miles and I think bollocks to that, I can’t do ten miles and I have a look to see what my last long run was before my half in March and it was 7 miles so I decide to do 7 miles and today it is cold and I put a long sleeve top on and go outside although I am feeling very demotivated today in a I’m-a-reject kind of way and there seems to be a lot of runners out and I’m thinking are they all starting their London training now? and my run is quite uneventful except for the teacup ride on Hackney Marshes by the football pitches and I wonder why there’s a teacup ride there and also on the path are arrows and I wonder if there was a race there and I get round the 7 miles without stopping, not even on the bridges but it is a very slow run and not enjoyable in the slightest and every step is a chore and at last I’m home and I think thank fuck that’s over.

Stats:
Distance: 7.32 miles
Time: 1:23:54
Pace: 11:28
Calories: 735
Acceptance mags: 0
Rejection mags: 1
Teacup rides: 1

Commutation ticket

3 comments

I slacked last week.  I slacked and slacked and slacked and then I slacked some more.  In fact I slacked so much I even decided not to do my usual long(ish) Saturday run, preferring instead to lie in and then dye my hair and make a necklace.

So this week I decided to unslack myself and do my running-home-from-work-thing which I can no longer call a running commute.  Because it isn’t one.  Trivia time, feel free to skip this bit:  A commutation ticket was the American name for a season ticket.  The word “commuter” replaced “season ticket holder” in the 1950s and by 1960, it was so popular that it was confusingly used to cover anyone travelling to and from work.  (Thank you “Queuing for Beginners” by Joe Moran for this information).  So, because I’m such a pedant, I can no longer call it a running commute.  Just as well a running-home-from-work-thing is just as catchy.

Still, off I go on my running-home-from-work-thing and I decide to walk until my Garmin gets a signal which is just as I get to the only hill in Central London; who thought it was a good idea to put a hill in Farringdon?  And I run up the hill and get round the corner and my knees are stiff and I think uh oh, this is going to be difficult, maybe I should have gone out for a walk at lunchtime instead of reading about the history of the desk and queuing and I get to Angel which is as usual full of people annoying me by trying to give me a free newspaper or leaflets about Salsa lessons or whatever it was the people in yellow were trying to give me or idiots not looking where they’re going because they’re texting or lighting cigarettes and I wonder how many more times I’m going to call someone a prick on my way home and I think it’s probably a habit I should get out of before I get to Hackney because that could have some serious repercussions and as I’m going down Essex Road there’s a man in front of me reading the paper and I can see the headline and it says CYCLISTS V LORRIES: DEBATE or something like that and I think what about PEDESTRIANS V CYCLISTS?  Are we supposed to be feeling sorry for cyclists? and I think I would have more sympathy for the squished cyclists if they stopped trying to squish pedestrians and I manage to make it to the end of Essex Road without walking and I’m wondering if I can make it to the end of Balls Pond Road and way hey I do and I think uh oh, round the corner is where I always always always want to – and usually do – stop.  But I carry on round the where I usually stop bit and go past the smelly shop and over the zebra and then Haircut 100 comes on and I think shit, will I have to admit to that on my blog? and I get past Hackney Downs station and I still haven’t stopped to walk and then I get to the steep bit and I think uh oh, it’s a steep bit then I think it’s just psychological, I can walk up hills really slowly climb up mountains, just get on with it and I do just get on with it and then I get to the flat bit and I think almost at Murder Mile, not far to go now and just as I’m approaching Murder Mile a man is smiling at me and saying something but I can’t hear what he’s saying and although he looks friendly enough I’d really rather people didn’t approach me on Murder Mile and then I’m going down the road that has half of the pavement as a cycle lane and a cyclist comes from behind and I watch him to make sure he doesn’t veer off over the white line and onto the people bit of pavement but he doesn’t and then I’m going up the path and before I get there a cyclist goes in and I think wait for me,  you can save me from any psychopaths but he’s too quick and has gone and I wonder if there’s anyone working in the factories and how loud can I scream and I think probably not very loud if I get a knife stuck in my throat, I’d probably just gurgle a bit and I wonder how loud I can gurgle and then I think I shouldn’t be thinking things like that and stop being paranoid anyway and then as I’m going round the corner someone comes up from behind me and I jump but it’s only a cyclist and I don’t have to practice my gurgling skills and then I’m home and I’ve run the whole way home without walking for the first time in about a year.  Yay.

Splits

Stats:
Distance: 6.18 miles
Time: 1:12:28
Pace: 11:44
Calories: 610
Music:
Black Kids
MGMT
Haircut 100
Dexys Midnight Runners
Radiohead
Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster
Ian Brown
Panic At The Disco
Seahorses
The Police
Blondie

More of an SSW than an LSR

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After having the best sleep ever on Thursday, this morning I wake at 4 and can’t get back to sleep and I lie there restless and eventually get up and I think today I’ve got to do 8 miles but I’m knackered and I want to go back to bed and I think maybe a run will wake me up and I get out the door and as I’m closing it a BIG spider comes down hanging on its web and stops at eye level and I think aaaaaaarrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhh go away spider, I don’t like spiders but I manage not to scream in a girly way and the spider goes all the way down onto the floor and I lock the door and set off for my 8 miles and although it’s a lovely sunny day it’s cold and my arms and hands and feet are numb and when I get to the marshes two runners come out not looking cold or tired or anything and I think ah well, I’ll warm up soon and then there’s two people blocking the path with buggies and my maternal instinct comes out and I inwardly curse the stupid people with their stupid babies taking up all the path and I go around them and I’m not even at the marina and I want to stop and I think come on, just get up to four miles then I’ll warm up and it’ll be ok and I walk over the bridge and walk up the hill in the park and start to run again on the flat bit but I’m really flagging and I’m thinking bollocks bollocks bollocks bollocks, I’ve a) got a half marathon in three weeks; and b) I want to lose a stone and walking isn’t going to help with either and I go over the bridge and there’s a woman walking along and she looks like she’s going to move over a bit but then she moves back and then she moves back again and I’m thinking JUST DECIDE WHICH WAY YOU’RE GOING, I DON’T CARE WHICH WAY IT IS JUST FUCKING DECIDE and she stays in the same place for more than three seconds and I move out of her way and I’ve stopped to walk again and I look at my Garmin and it says I’ve done 2.4 miles and I think bollocks, there’s no way I can do eight miles today, I think I’m going to have to pack it in and go home and so I decide to walk home and there’s rabbit poo all along the path for about a mile and I think how come there’s so much bunny poo but I never see any bunnies over here and then I’m home and it’s still early and I’m wondering what to do all day and I think I will do the tax return that has been sitting here for months and months and months.  Woo hoo.

Stats:
Distance: 4.26 miles
Time: 57:42
Pace: 13:33
Calories: 374
Big spiders: 1
Stupid babies in my way: 2
Women unable to decide which way to go: 1
Rabbit poo: lots
8 milers successfully completed: 0
Music:
Faith No More
Black Kids
The Killers
Kaiser Chiefs
Scissor Sisters

RSI (repetitive song injury)

4 comments

I’m undertaking another of my I’m-giving-up-something-for-a-month challenges and this month’s challenge is not to drink any alcohol or eat anything nice such as crisps, chocolate, cakes or pizza.  Gasp.  Although this is a lightweight challenge as Saturdays and the occasional Wednesday are excluded, as suggested by Shaun who although he said I should have something to look forward to, I think he probably meant that I’d be a miserable cow without drinking and eating pizza and he’d have to put up with me.  Hmm.

Still, day one of not drinking any alcohol or eating pizza, crisps, chocolate or cakes went without a hitch yesterday and I sat at home thoroughly enjoying my glass of water and not missing pizza at all and I had an early night and got up bright and early to start my half marathon training.  Which is in four weeks.  Oops.

I get to Springfield Park and wonder if I can run up the hill and I think of course I can, I can walk up mountains and so I run up the hill and stop after about two feet and walk the rest of the steep bit.  Wimp.  At the top of the hill is a man on a bench and I wonder if I should be scared and then I decide he’s just a man on a bench and therefore there’s no reason to be scared and I go round the park and go along the towpath by the houses so I’m not tempted to stop and look at the cows as today is going to be a serious training run day without any of that stopping for cow based photo emergencies thing and as I’m going alongside the river past the sex change pub three cyclists come along side by side and I think are you going to go single file or what and let me get through? and they don’t, they stay side by side and I have to go onto the verge close to the river but I manage not to fall into the river and they go past me and don’t bother saying thank you and I think next time a cyclist comes along I’m not going to get out of their way and they can fall into the river and two more cyclists come along and they do go single file and no one has to fall into the river and I’m wondering why the same four songs keep playing on my iPod and then I realise that when I downloaded the latest version of iTunes it stopped my Shuffle from updating and I think bollocks, I’ve got another four miles to go and only four songs and not even good songs, bollocks and I wonder if it’s possible to get repetitive song injury and I get to the edge of the marshes and there’s a couple of kids hanging around by the gate and I wonder if I should be scared and I realise they’re about seven years old and I think no, I’m not scared of seven year olds and then I think they can’t be seven, are seven year olds allowed out on their own? and I think probably not and I wonder how old I was before I was allowed out on my own and I think it was probably about 28 and I get to the car park and there’s a police van leaving and I think don’t leave, stay here and protect me in the foresty bit but the police van drives off and I go through the foresty bit and out towards the bridge and two runners overtake me and they’re talking and I’m thinking shut up, I don’t want to hear people talking and the council have been to collect the skipfull load of rubbish that someone dumped over there last weekend and it’s all clean again and I run up the steep bit and get to the stables and I think it’s going to be less than seven miles when I get home and I get home and I’ve only done 6.6 miles and I think will that do? and I think no it won’t do, I have to do seven miles and so I do a lap of the park and then I’ve done 7 miles for the first time in a long, long time.

Splits

Stats:
Distance: 7.2 miles
Time: 1:18:57
Pace: 10:58 minute/mile
Calories: 713
Music:
Belle & Sebastian
Janes Addiction
Bikini Kill
Duran Duran

Walking commute

4 comments

I have been berated for not blogging Tuesday’s running commute.  This, as I keep pointing out, is BECAUSE I WALKED ALMOST ALL OF IT.  It can not be classed as a run.  Oh no.  I’ve checked the splits and every mile is just over walking pace.  So if, as I have been told, not blogging a run is against the law, then I am still the respectable, law-abiding citizen I always was.  Hurrah.

Stats:
Distance: 5.8 miles
Time: 1:25:41
Pace: 14:46
Calories: 420
Running commutes run: 0
Laws broken: 0

Back down to earth

3 comments

I survived the Three Peaks Challenge, only falling over on Ben Nevis four times and Scafell Pike six times but I’ll blog about that some other time, and today I get up bright and early to go for my long run as I’ve got a half marathon in five weeks and I’ve only done about five minutes training, oops, and after I get up bright and early I go back to bed and get up about 9ish and get out the door about 10ish and I have to go and investigate the new cows that I’ve seen from the train, three smaller black ones, although I’ve gone off cows a bit now and sheep are the new cows, especially pretty Cumbrian ones

which, sorry Mr Sorelimbs, are waaaaaaaaaaaaaay prettier than your Welsh sheep, although Welsh sheep are prettier than the ugly Kent sheep although the Kent sheep don’t mind their photos being taken, unlike the camera shy Welsh sheep and I go over the boardwalk and there’s a cyclist cycling towards me and he hasn’t dismounted like he’s supposed to and I think well, I’m not getting out of your way, I’m allowed to run along here and he’s started to wobble and I think ha ha, hope you fall off but he doesn’t fall off and he frowns as he wobbles past me and I go and see the new black cows

and now there’s eight cows over the marshes which is two more than last year and last year had two more than the year before that so maybe there’ll be ten cows next year, hurrah.

And I’m going through the filterbeds and stopping to walk as I’m a lightweight even if I did just walk up and down three mountains and Sleeper comes on my iPod and I think hurrah 90s indie, my favourite and I start to run again and after it’s finished I start to walk again and I look behind me and there’s a fat man with a walking stick behind me and I stop to take a photo of the river which appears to consist only of green sludge

and Fat Man with Walking Stick says something and I take my headphones out and he says he’s never seen the river so dirty and I say no, me neither, I was wondering if the duck was standing on a log or just on the green sludge and he says it was standing on a leaf and I say oh and he says do you run every day? and I say no, not every day and he says you should, I walk every day and I say um, I run three times a week, and I’m wondering why I feel the need to justify myself to a Fat Man with a Walking Stick and I’m thinking well I just went up and down three mountains and I bet you haven’t and he says he comes here every year and I say to Hackney? and he says no, he lives in Spain and I put my headphones back and and say bye and run off and go round the football field and I get to the path in the foresty bit and one of the footballers comes over and sits on the path to do his laces up and I think I don’t want anyone joining me in the foresty bit and I’m trying to decide whether to be scared or not and I’m wondering why he chose the path to do his laces up, he could have done that on the field and I’m wondering if he can run in studs and if he’s going to run after me and murder me and I decide he probably isn’t and he’s probably just doing his laces up and I carry on and then I’m walking again and then Sleeper comes on again and I think hurrah, 90s indie, my favourite and I run again and I get to the steep bit and because I’m hardcore and can walk up and down mountains, I run up the steep bit and then I get home after running for the first time in nearly three weeks.

Stats
Distance: 6.53 miles
Time: 1:23:09
Pace: 12:44
Calories: 561
New cows: 3
Total cows: 8
Frowning cyclists wobbling on the boardwalk: 1
Fat men with walking sticks: 1
Rivers made of green sludge: 1
Mountains climbed: 3
Music:
Jimi Hendrix
Hole
The Gossip
Buzzcocks
Cardiacs
Mark Ronson
Sonic Youth
Stereo Total
Franz Ferdinand
Foo Fighters
Sleeper
Blondie

Another running commute

2 comments

After a successfulish lunchtime buying walking up mountain clothing, successful in a yes I got some trousers and a jacket but yes they’re hideous kind of way, I leave my new purchases at work and head off for my running commute. I can’t be bothered to wait two thousand years for my Garmin to get a signal so I start to run before it’s got a signal and decide it can catch up with me which it does pretty soon and after .3 of a mile it starts to rain and I think hurrah, maybe there’ll be less people on the pavement but no, there’s still as many people about, they just have umbrellas that they’re trying to kill me with and I think why don’t you just get wet you lightweights and I’m going down Essex Road and there’s a cyclist on the pavement and I think OI, CYCLIST, GET OFF THE PAVEMENT and I would like to point out ONCE AGAIN that I don’t hate all cyclists, just the ones on the pavement and the ones who go through red lights and once again this morning I did my counting Bromptons thing and I saw 4, all black, and I carry on walking and running and getting wet and I get to Balls Pond Road and I think I’ll run down the other side of the road for a change and a change is as good as a rest and maybe it’ll be like being on holiday and I’m running down the different side of the road and I decide it’s not really like being on holiday, it’s just like running down the different side of the road, funny that, and I get to the bottom of the road and think do I want to go through Stamford Hill or do I want to go through Hackney and I decide to go through Hackney as it will be fun risking my life by dodging bullets and stuff and I get to Hackney Downs station and I think I want to get on the train instead but I’m a drowned rat and they probably won’t let me on the train and so I carry on and there’s another CYCLIST ON THE PAVEMENT and I think fuck off cyclist but I’m in Hackney so I only think fuck off cyclist, not say fuck off cyclist, and I get to the marshes and I go over the bridge but I can’t see the cows from where I am and I get home and I wonder why I bother attempting a running commute as I always end up walking most of it.

Stats
Distance: 6.54 miles
Time: 1:30:47
Pace: 13:53
Calories: 527
Hideous trousers for walking up mountains in: 2
Hideous jackets for walking up mountains in: 1
Cyclists on pavements: 2
Bromptons: 4 am / 6 pm

Return of the cows (and about bloody time too)

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I don’t do my running commute on Tuesday due to having run on Monday, and Wednesday night I’m in Kent counting sheep thus proving that a) I can count to 11; and b) Shaun isn’t lying when he says that there are usually more than three sheep at the bottom of his garden.

Thursday I’m too knackered to do my running commute due to not getting home ’til about 1am and Friday I’m not feeling well and even feel unwell enough to pass on a girly night out with free champagne but on the train home after work I’m doing my usual looking-out-of-the-window-to-see-if-the-cows-are-there thing and fuck, THE COWS ARE THERE!!!!! Woo and hoo indeed. At least, I think they’re cows as I haven’t got my glasses on but they definitely look like cow shaped lumps to me and I get a bottle of wine to celebrate the return of the cows and also some crisps and chocolate and I go home and drink wine and eat chocolate and crisps and get up this morning bright and early and remember the cows are there and so I head out and wait about sixteen hours for my Garmin to get a signal and I go and stand over the other side of the road to see if it’ll pick it up any better from there and I see a strange ladybird type bug thing that’s black with orange spots.

My Garmin springs into action by the time I’ve finished taking photos of the strange ladybird bug type thing with orange spots and I decide to take in Springfield Park as I’ve got to do seven miles this morning and when I get to the top of the hill that I walked up really really slowly sprinted up really really quickly I see two recycling bins pretending to be cows.

But they can’t fool me and I know they’re not real cows and so I continue on my quest to find some cows and I go over the boardwalk and look over to where the cows should be and I can’t see any cows and I walk a bit more and I still can’t see any cows and I think I’m going to cry or puff my cheeks out or stamp my feet or maybe even all three at the same time but then I think I can see some cow shaped lumps in the grass and then I see a tail waving and HOORAY THE COWS REALLY ARE BACK. Yee hah. And so I run up to where the cows are and there’s a man going towards the cows and I’m thinking get the fuck away from my cows now but he doesn’t get the fuck away from my cows and he goes over to the fence and I think that’s not fair, I want to stand there, that’s nearer the cows and then I wonder if I get my camera out will he fuck off and I get my camera out and he does indeed fuck off and I take pictures of the cows.

And this year’s cows are even meaner looking than last year’s cows.

And after I’ve finished looking at cows I remember I’m supposed to be half marathon training and so I say goodbye to the cows and continue on my run and I get back to the path by the river and there’s a man in running gear taking photos and I’m thinking oi, I’m the only runner over the marshes allowed to take photos and I wonder if he’s got a blog and I don’t know if he’s got a blog but he has got two bottles of water in his belt and I think two bottles of water? why do you need two bottles of water and I continue over the bridge and past the sex change pub and through the filterbeds and then I’m feeling a bit knackered and I stop to walk and two bottles of water man passes me and then he stops and takes a photo of some ducks and I see that actually he has four bottles of water and I think how thirsty can someone get? and as I get closer I see that actually it’s five bottles of water and I’m thinking fucking hell and I realise that it’s probably six bottles, three on each side and his t-shirt is covering the sixth bottle and I’m wondering if actually they’re all empty and he just can’t be arsed to take them out of the belt thing and he’s still taking photos of the river and I wonder if he’s doing the same route as me but when I get to the edge of the marshes he’s disappeared and I see this sign

and the pedant in me is pretty sure that it should be practising with an “s” not a “c” and then the pedant in me is also wondering why Golf has a capital “G” and then just to be really really pedantic, I’m thinking it’s not a park, it’s the marshes and wasn’t there anyone at Hackney Council who was involved in the process of making this sign born with more than half a brain cell and I’m thinking obviously not and I continue on my run and I get to the foresty bit and there’s a man fishing and I thought there was a sign to say no fishing and I’m thinking OI, MISTER, LEAVE THOSE FISH ALONE and I’m wondering whether I should take his photo and plaster it all over the internet, thus letting the whole of the world know that he’s a fish killer and I’m thinking it’s probably not worth it and I don’t think the Fish Killer of Hackney is really going to make front page news and so I carry on and I go over the bridge and a cyclist dismounts and I think bloody hell, a cyclist doing what they’re supposed to? Blimey. And it’s an old man on an orange and silver Brompton and I’ve been seeing so many Bromptons every day that yesterday I decided to start counting them but I only saw four on the way to work and two on the way back, which is nowhere near the dozen or so I saw on the way home on Thursday and then I get back to the stables and I need to do another mile and a half and I’m not a mile and a half from home so I decide to go back out the marshes the way I came in and I see two girls in pink running gear walking really slowly and I wonder if they’re training for a Race for Life and I look at my Garmin and I’m on 6.66 miles and then I wonder if Gary’s going to wear an Iron Maiden t-shirt tonight and then I think of course he is, I’ve never seen him wear anything else in the 15 years that I’ve known him and I wonder if Shaun’s going to wear his Slayer t-shirt like he said he was going to and I’ll have to be seen out in public with two heavy metal t-shirt wearing men, eek.

Stats
Distance: 7.9 miles
Time: 1:37:33
Pace: 12:21
Calories: 729
Ladybirds with orange spots: 1
Recycling bins pretending to be cows: 2
Cows not pretending to be recycling bins: 5
Men with six water bottles: 1
Signs with the correct spelling of the word “practising”: 0
Fish killers: 1
Bromptons: 1
Music
Franz Ferdinand
The Editors
Elastica
Siouxsie & The Banshees
Black Kids
Modest Mouse
Plain White Ts
Ash
Blondie
Metallica
Fort Minor
Nirvana
The Shins
Killing Joke
Jeff Buckley
The Seahorses
Blur
The Charlatans
Ben Folds Five

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