I was down to do a 100 minute run on my plan tonight and I really wasn't looking forward to it. The conditions were awful, but once I got going I really got into it and in the end ran for two hours and five minutes, which covered about ten miles.
Fairly exhausting so I did a video about it which you can see on You Tube here:
http://qurl.com/sz43c
Sunday, 29 November 2009
Thursday, 26 November 2009
It's a twister!
Looks like I'm beating the bad weather.
I've been out about three times on my own in the past few weeks in the crappy winter storms, and managed to keep going and get through it.
I make that point about being on my own merely because it is so much easier to stay at home if you're not meeting anybody for a run, but I've resisted that temptation.
Besides, there really are many more people doing far worse things on a daily basis than worrying about a little bit of wind and rain. People get shot at or blown up in Afghanistan for a living, or abused on the emergency wards of Bristol's hospitals or school classrooms every day. None of which I've ever thankfully had to contend with.
The chocolate ban is working well too I feel, suddenly starting to feel much less flabby and the huge belly that wobbled a few feet in front of me wherever I went has gone.
Although I am still a fairly hefty chap and have several stone to work through.
Had a great run last night. I was down to do 50 mins on the plan, so actually headed out on a route that I thought would take an hour, and deliberately went out of my way to make up the time. But when I got home I looked at my watch and it had taken 54 mins, so I'm definitely getting quicker.
I had a horrible moment half way through when I thought disaster had struck. I was running up one side of the Downs, the side that is lit (although not very well), and stepped of the kerb to cross the road when I felt my ankle twist underneath me.
It was that horrible sickening feeling which produced a string of extreme expletives as I stumbled across the road.
For a second or two I thought I was going to collapse in the road with some major ligament damage and I could already imagine the doctor saying to rest it for two months and what a disaster that would be for the run.
It really made me realise just how important this whole thing is to me. In a split second the thought that I might not be able to take part due to a stupid injury filled me with devastation and anger. I was extremely and offensively angry at whoever it was that had decided not to have very many lights along that stretch of path, and for having to look out for cars coming up a road which should be pedestrianised.
I was just thinking about calling Amy to come and rescue me in a medi-vac style when I realised the pain was subsiding as quickly as it had risen. After a few seconds I was walking on it and within a minute I knew I could run it off so started back on my run and it was fine. All a bit melodramatic perhaps, and a good job no passing vicars were around to hear me, but it was a horrible moment in which everything felt like it could come crashing down, me included.
Glad to have a rest day today mind, although the ankle feels fine, back to it tomorrow ahead of a 100 minute run on Sunday, which I'm really looking forward to.
I've been out about three times on my own in the past few weeks in the crappy winter storms, and managed to keep going and get through it.
I make that point about being on my own merely because it is so much easier to stay at home if you're not meeting anybody for a run, but I've resisted that temptation.
Besides, there really are many more people doing far worse things on a daily basis than worrying about a little bit of wind and rain. People get shot at or blown up in Afghanistan for a living, or abused on the emergency wards of Bristol's hospitals or school classrooms every day. None of which I've ever thankfully had to contend with.
The chocolate ban is working well too I feel, suddenly starting to feel much less flabby and the huge belly that wobbled a few feet in front of me wherever I went has gone.
Although I am still a fairly hefty chap and have several stone to work through.
Had a great run last night. I was down to do 50 mins on the plan, so actually headed out on a route that I thought would take an hour, and deliberately went out of my way to make up the time. But when I got home I looked at my watch and it had taken 54 mins, so I'm definitely getting quicker.
I had a horrible moment half way through when I thought disaster had struck. I was running up one side of the Downs, the side that is lit (although not very well), and stepped of the kerb to cross the road when I felt my ankle twist underneath me.
It was that horrible sickening feeling which produced a string of extreme expletives as I stumbled across the road.
For a second or two I thought I was going to collapse in the road with some major ligament damage and I could already imagine the doctor saying to rest it for two months and what a disaster that would be for the run.
It really made me realise just how important this whole thing is to me. In a split second the thought that I might not be able to take part due to a stupid injury filled me with devastation and anger. I was extremely and offensively angry at whoever it was that had decided not to have very many lights along that stretch of path, and for having to look out for cars coming up a road which should be pedestrianised.
I was just thinking about calling Amy to come and rescue me in a medi-vac style when I realised the pain was subsiding as quickly as it had risen. After a few seconds I was walking on it and within a minute I knew I could run it off so started back on my run and it was fine. All a bit melodramatic perhaps, and a good job no passing vicars were around to hear me, but it was a horrible moment in which everything felt like it could come crashing down, me included.
Glad to have a rest day today mind, although the ankle feels fine, back to it tomorrow ahead of a 100 minute run on Sunday, which I'm really looking forward to.
Monday, 23 November 2009
Today's weigh-in, and other issues.
God does have a sense of humour, the little roister doister.
Had a great weigh-in, as it were, down to 15 st 10 lbs today, which feels like some proper progress down through the 15s rather than hanging round the border regions with 16, not making any real commitment to the new world ahead.
So that's great and in my head I think it has to do with stepping up the running and ditching the chocolate last week.
Even if that isn't the reason, I'm going to content myself that it is, and so be able to remember that when I next feel a chocolate wobble coming on.
So feeling all happy about that I didn't even mind the force 9 gale I had to battle through that seem to be sweeping the country, not complaining of course, things are clearly much worse elsewhere.
But my mood was brought crashing down to soggy wet earth after a quick phone call from the garage where my car is being serviced, to be told there's a whole load of other problems and if I want it fixed (which I should because it could be dangerous), then it'll cost me just over £500, inc VAT. Nice one.
Whoever it is upstairs clearly likes to inflate your hapiness one moment, merely to make the bubble perfect to burst with the other.
There's nothing quite like a call from a garage to make a grown man weep. I should rename my car the Citroen Bottomless Pit, which would also be handy rhyming slang for it.
I know it's my fault for buying French. I happen to like France and all things of that country, and I simply refuse to believe every single car that rolls of the channel ferry from that great historic nation, has bits falling off or hasn't been put together properly.
Still, I also managed to score a couple of weeks freelance work in December today which was two good bits of news against the one big bad bit of news. So I'm still up, I reckon. And I'll need that couple of weeks work even more now!
Sunday, 22 November 2009
Giving up the hard stuff
Giving up the booze was easy-peasy. Quitting fags? A no-brainer. Removing chocolate from my diet? That's a little harder it seems.
I don't know at what point I became a male version of a terrible Bridget Jones cliche, stuck in a fat bloke's body who wants to do little more than devour a slab of Dairy Milk (fruit and nut), wearing my comfy tracksuit bottoms and hoodie, sat in front of an emotionally challenging film. It feels at times like I'm stuck in some hideous alternative dimension where all I crave is chocolate. And perhaps a bottle of wine.
So, I decided this week that I would knock the deadly cocoa-bean into touch, but it's easier said than done and on Tuesday night I found myself actually craving it, in the same way a junkie craves smack. Well, maybe not quite the same, but in a relative way, it was very tough and weridly more difficult than I thought it would be.
I had to find some way of distracting myself from the obsession that was forming in my mind about chocolate and in the end all I could do was go to sleep.
How ridiculous, it really is. But it's been a few days now, and strangely I haven't suffered any psychologically damaging withdrawal symptoms, but I do think a chocolate ban is having a positive effect. I know it's really pretty obvious that cutting down on foods that make you fat will help you to lose weight, but I've been finding it hard to give up on those little treats.
I have done a lot of running this week though and I'm feeling a little trimmer, so I really want to build on that and get out of the 16st rut I've been in for weeks.
I went out on Friday and a few people reckoned I was looking slimmer, which was really nice. The running is really starting to make a difference now I feel, and tonight I did my 90 minutes as scheduled, even in the rain and cold, and it felt really good.
So I'm going to go for a weigh in tomorrow, for the first time in ages I'm feeling more confident about losing a few pounds as the bathroom scales said 15st 8 lbs this weekend, which would be great if that was official.
Fingers crossed.
Wednesday, 11 November 2009
Another day, another running plan
You know, there was a time when I used to think about how to bring down the government from within, or fight to achieve world peace equality for all.
Now, I think about why that wooden spoon never gets properly clean in the dishwasher and whether the new plates will stack upright.
Anyway, had plenty to think about on my run tonight.
It's been ten days or so since I did my eight mile run, but I met up with Marc and Dave, the other two members of the FB Running Club, for our usual Wednesday jaunt.
Dave has just returned triumphant from Amsterdam where he ran the marathon there in 3hrs and 58 mins, which is pretty impressive I think.
By rights he really doesn't qualify for the FB Running Club, and nor does Marc come to that, but it's a great help to have them both along.
We did the Bridge Run tonight, fighting bravely against the bitter wind, and the other two did well to keep up with me, and by that I mean run slowly enough to stay with me.
We did it in about an hour and six minutes, about the same time I did it before. Importantly it felt quite comfortable running for about an hour, which I'm really encouraged about.
This week marks the start of a new training plan.
I have decided the official one from the marathon website isn't right for me. It's too many sessions, up to six a week, which I can't really do.
Marc has a plan which he used very successfully last year so we are going to stick to that. Although I didn't start very well as I was supposed to start it on Monday this week, but I couldn't find the motivation.
Still adjusting to the change in seasons, much worse ahead I fear, but I know the hardest training is going to have to happen in the rubbishest winter.
The new plan includes some three to four hour runs, which the other one didn't although there was more training.
It's really important for me be able to get up to 20 miles at least once before the big day, ideally a couple of times really.
But what is also important is buying my tea before I go running, rather than crawling around the supermarket just after running for an hour, feeling ravenous with hunger and spending more than £20 on one meal because I couldn't stop shoving really yummy things into my basket. Pork pies, hmmm. Probably didn't need that bumper bag of Minstrels.
Now, I think about why that wooden spoon never gets properly clean in the dishwasher and whether the new plates will stack upright.
Anyway, had plenty to think about on my run tonight.
It's been ten days or so since I did my eight mile run, but I met up with Marc and Dave, the other two members of the FB Running Club, for our usual Wednesday jaunt.
Dave has just returned triumphant from Amsterdam where he ran the marathon there in 3hrs and 58 mins, which is pretty impressive I think.
By rights he really doesn't qualify for the FB Running Club, and nor does Marc come to that, but it's a great help to have them both along.
We did the Bridge Run tonight, fighting bravely against the bitter wind, and the other two did well to keep up with me, and by that I mean run slowly enough to stay with me.
We did it in about an hour and six minutes, about the same time I did it before. Importantly it felt quite comfortable running for about an hour, which I'm really encouraged about.
This week marks the start of a new training plan.
I have decided the official one from the marathon website isn't right for me. It's too many sessions, up to six a week, which I can't really do.
Marc has a plan which he used very successfully last year so we are going to stick to that. Although I didn't start very well as I was supposed to start it on Monday this week, but I couldn't find the motivation.
Still adjusting to the change in seasons, much worse ahead I fear, but I know the hardest training is going to have to happen in the rubbishest winter.
The new plan includes some three to four hour runs, which the other one didn't although there was more training.
It's really important for me be able to get up to 20 miles at least once before the big day, ideally a couple of times really.
But what is also important is buying my tea before I go running, rather than crawling around the supermarket just after running for an hour, feeling ravenous with hunger and spending more than £20 on one meal because I couldn't stop shoving really yummy things into my basket. Pork pies, hmmm. Probably didn't need that bumper bag of Minstrels.
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
Snag
Day two of the great porridge and soup diet has hit a bit of a snag. I've run out of clean saucepans.
As great as porridge is, and I do genuinely love it, making it in a saucepan does add an element of arsery and as I've been working elsewhere this week, in a proper office, I've not had time to wash them up.
So was back to corn flakes this morning.
I know porridge can be done in the bowl in a microwave, but that always ends up a right mess. For some reason, no matter how hard I try to get the measurements right, it always seems to explode and I'm left with the inside of the microwave looking like an accident in a fireworks factory in a leper colony. Ew.
Running with the FB Running Club tonight, hope it's not too grim out there.
As great as porridge is, and I do genuinely love it, making it in a saucepan does add an element of arsery and as I've been working elsewhere this week, in a proper office, I've not had time to wash them up.
So was back to corn flakes this morning.
I know porridge can be done in the bowl in a microwave, but that always ends up a right mess. For some reason, no matter how hard I try to get the measurements right, it always seems to explode and I'm left with the inside of the microwave looking like an accident in a fireworks factory in a leper colony. Ew.
Running with the FB Running Club tonight, hope it's not too grim out there.
Monday, 2 November 2009
The Porridge and Soup diet
I know I have about as much patience as Basil Fawlty on a bad day having to put up with a coach-load arthritic 90-year-olds attending a pet sloth convention, but I don't think it's unreasonable to expect to see some kind of payoff on the scales after running 8 flippin' miles in the cold and wet last night.
But no, the digital dictator in the bathroom mocks me with its stubborn reading of 16 stone, still. In fact that's more than I was this time last week.
So I got a bit huffy and kicked them across the bathroom floor and was mildly satisfied by the crashing sound it made against the skirting board, the mechanical equivalent of bone-crunching.
I guess that packet of Maryland choc chip cookies I rewarded myself with last night wasn't really the sort of reward that would do me any good. And if push comes to shove I have to admit I didn't need to finish Amy's pasta for her either, especially as she had barley rested her fork at the edge of the plate before it was scooped away to my side of the dinner table.
I think this is the hardest point, denying myself lots of food after having gone out and done loads of exercise. In my head it should mean I can eat what I like, and maybe a few years ago that was true, but not now. Of course.
I feel that while my training is going well and there's some real good progress being made in the mileage I'm racking up, all the wobbly bits are still wobbling and the fight against the flab has rather stalled.
This is annoying because of course the lighter I am the easier it will be to run, but also because I set myself this ridiculous goal of losing eight stone by the time I line up for the marathon, which is now less than 6 months away.
So, in a bid to make some real progress in the war on lard, I am adopting a radical new diet recommended to me by the eminent sports and nutrition expert Professor Marc Cooper, fresh from his recent sacking by the Government on account of his opening remarks on the Committee for the Reduction of Anal Palpatations which went along the lines of "Now, I'm not doctor, but..."
Anyway, Marc suggested a while back that a diet of porridge for breakfast and soup for lunch has worked wonders for a friend of his who shed loads of weight sticking to that and not snacking.
I have some faith in this approach as when I had my record-breaking healthy year a few years back I did eat a lot of porridge and it was great for releasing energy slowly and providing energy all day, and all that.
So from today my breakfast and lunch is going to be more predictable than a Jordan and Peter Christmas reunion, and I will be enjoying a bowl of porridge in the morning, and one of the many tins of Heinz I stocked up on at the weekend for lunch.
I tried something similar with SlimFast a little while ago, sticking just to their milkshakes, but got very bored and quite repulsed by the thought of milkshake ever again, so ditched it.
I'm hoping the little dollop of jam in the porridge, which is a lot less bad than you might think, and a range of interesting soups may stop that happening. I'm determined to give it a go this week and see if it makes a difference at my next Weight Watchers weigh in next Monday. I've decided not to go this week.
Plus I'll be doing a few runs this week to help. I'm kinda getting into the winter training thing. In the film of my life which plays out in my head most of the time, running the cold and dark is the real heroic part, like in Rocky when he's training in Siberia. The Downs in the winter are very much the same.
Sunday, 1 November 2009
8 mile and running
If I see another thirtysomething bloke walking around the supermarket with his arse hanging out of his jeans in a pair of manky pants, I'm going to really think hard about maybe saying something.
If you're a 19-year-old lingerie model, of either gender, with a body like an ironing board, I must admit it probably looks kind of cool to have your finest pair of CK's popping out the top of your jeans, but not if your clearly in your mid-thirties doing the weekly shop. It borders on offensive.
Sainsbury's in Clifton Down is a regular source of amazement, but luckily my daily trip didn't distract me too much from my plan to do a big run today.
I wanted to get up to about ten k today but did more than that and ended up running just over 8 miles.
It was one of those great runs when everything just went right and felt great.
I had the right tunes on my iPod, the conditions were good, although I did cop a shower half way down the Portway, and I just felt like I had so much energy in my legs that I could keep going as long as I wanted to.
I started off on the Downs, headed down the Portway, came back up Bridge Valley Road, past the zoo, back on to the Downs and round the smaller half again. I hadn't intended to run that far, but I swear I could have kept going if I was meant to do the full 26.2 miles tonight.
It felt great because I only did 2 runs last week, but maybe the fresh legs helped. It took me 1hr and 55mins, which is about a six hour marathon time. No surprise, still carrying a lot of weight and in fact I'd be happy with six hours, if I could keep going that long anyway.
It was a great morale booster to the training to be able to run all the way, now hoping it will be reflected in my weigh in tomorrow.
I'm also hoping the big bowl of pasta I had for dinner and packet of cookies earlier won't have done too much damage. But after running for nearly two hours I was a bit hungry.
Went to a wedding party last night (lime sodas all night) and caught up with lots of people I haven't seen for a while, and was surprised by how many of them read the blog, so thanks for the support, and thanks again to all those who have donated in the last day or so. It's all starting to come together and for the first time I can start to imagine myself on the start line on April 25 and taking on the marathon.
If you're a 19-year-old lingerie model, of either gender, with a body like an ironing board, I must admit it probably looks kind of cool to have your finest pair of CK's popping out the top of your jeans, but not if your clearly in your mid-thirties doing the weekly shop. It borders on offensive.
Sainsbury's in Clifton Down is a regular source of amazement, but luckily my daily trip didn't distract me too much from my plan to do a big run today.
I wanted to get up to about ten k today but did more than that and ended up running just over 8 miles.
It was one of those great runs when everything just went right and felt great.
I had the right tunes on my iPod, the conditions were good, although I did cop a shower half way down the Portway, and I just felt like I had so much energy in my legs that I could keep going as long as I wanted to.
I started off on the Downs, headed down the Portway, came back up Bridge Valley Road, past the zoo, back on to the Downs and round the smaller half again. I hadn't intended to run that far, but I swear I could have kept going if I was meant to do the full 26.2 miles tonight.
It felt great because I only did 2 runs last week, but maybe the fresh legs helped. It took me 1hr and 55mins, which is about a six hour marathon time. No surprise, still carrying a lot of weight and in fact I'd be happy with six hours, if I could keep going that long anyway.
It was a great morale booster to the training to be able to run all the way, now hoping it will be reflected in my weigh in tomorrow.
I'm also hoping the big bowl of pasta I had for dinner and packet of cookies earlier won't have done too much damage. But after running for nearly two hours I was a bit hungry.
Went to a wedding party last night (lime sodas all night) and caught up with lots of people I haven't seen for a while, and was surprised by how many of them read the blog, so thanks for the support, and thanks again to all those who have donated in the last day or so. It's all starting to come together and for the first time I can start to imagine myself on the start line on April 25 and taking on the marathon.
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