No more bleeding nipples!

I've just about got the energy back to write this as on Sunday I ran for four hours and covered 19 and a half miles, which I'm claiming as a 20 miler - it's as near as damn it.
But almost more importantly, I've discovered the cause of my bleeding nipple issue and even after four hours of hard pounding on Sunday there wasn't so much as a scratch around the man boob area.
Basically it seems that the trusty Reebok bright yellow running jacket I have been wearing all through  my winter training as it provided most welcome protection against the wind and rain, has also been chaffing away at my over-sensitive nips.

Pic cap: An example of bleeding nipple syndrome, just in case you couldn't picture it yourself!

 The inside lining of the jacket is like a honeycomb mesh which I thought was like a clever hi-tech materiel, but in fact has been acting much like a cheese grater. Not the best design for a garment designed specifically for runners.
I discovered it was the cause of all my pain after going out on Sunday without the cold weather protection as thank the lord of all things weather, which is probably God, the temperature is now creeping up above freezing so I had no need of it.
The run itself felt amazing. I didn't really set out to run for four hours, I wanted to match the three and a half hours I'd done the week before, but it just felt right so I kept going, Forest Gump style.
I nearly gave up on the whole thing after half an hour because I was wearing what I can only describe as a utility belt for the first time, holding two drinking bottles and a bunch of energy gels. It felt so heavy, cumbersome and uncomfortable at first that I felt like I was dragging a tyre behind me and I nearly threw the whole thing into the hedge.
But, annoyingly, it did what the marketing blurb claimed eventually and moulded around my waist so that I didn't really feel it after a while. I'm glad I persevered as the energy gels, special energy drink and water were much welcome.
Most encouragingly after three and a half hours I felt much brighter than I had done a week before when I was dead on my feet after the same time. And even getting into the city centre to finish the run at four hours I genuinely felt like there was more to give and wasn't as utterly wrecked as last week.
Don't get me wrong, I was well and truly buggered, but if I'd had to continue, if my life depended on it, I feel I could have gone on.
So it's left me full of confidence for the big day, which is precisely a month away now and I've even signed up for the Taunton half marathon two weeks before to try to get myself nice and sharp for race day.
Now all I need to do is work as hard on the fundraising for the British Heart Foundation, so, you know the score, if you're reading this far down and feel compelled to sponsor me and help to fight heart disease, the UK's biggest killer, please go to www.justgiving.co.uk/simonpeevers to make a secure donation.

No Gastric Band Required

It's been a while since I last checked in so I apologise for that, but I've only just about found the energy to tap the keys on my computer, a week after the longest run I've ever done in my life.

Last Sunday I ran for three and a half hours, covering a distance of 17 miles and boy did that hurt.

It felt great to get that far, even though I did have to call Amy to come and rescue me from Bristol city centre and barely had the breath in my body to make the call.

But I really felt that I had broken through a bit of a wall, which is a good job as it's now one month and three days until the London Marathon.

I can't believe how quickly that is coming up, more bloody quickly than I can run, I know that for sure.

But hopefully the timing of my training will mean I'm just peaking at the right time for the marathon.

By running 17 miles though I do feel that I'm obviously very close to be able to run 20 miles, and once I've hit that milestone it should be enough to go the full distance on the day itself, hopefully with a little help from the crowd and the atmosphere of the event. I hear so much about this famous event adrenalin that I'm thinking about trying to bottle it and sell on the internet for vast sums, it certainly needs to be as strong as it sounds to get me round.

I also managed to reach another important milestone this week when I stepped on the scales and weighed 14 stone bang on, which means I've lost four stone in 10 months and five stone since I was at my heaviest (or should I say fattest), back in September 08. I don't think I'm going to hit my eight stone target before the marathon, but I'm very pleased to be able to ditch the tent-like shirts and stretchy waistband jeans.

And I've done it all without the aid of a gastric band, diet pill or any other drastic measure. That sounds really smug I realise, but I do worry about the rise in gastric band operations in the past 12 months. It feels like the easy option to me, although I am well aware there are genuine cases. Surely there's no guarantee that when the band is removed you won't start to put weight on again? I know it's taken me nearly a year to lose this weight, but at least I don't have saggy loose skin hanging from my stomach as a result.

Each to their own I guess, but I have to say exercise, diet and changing your life is a really positive approach.

In the time it takes to get one of these operations, why not start walking a bit more, stop eat junk and do something about it. Easy for me to say, I realise that, so I'll shut up before I offend somebody.


Training this week has been tough after the long run last Sunday. But there has been a significant change in the weather I feel, and on Wednesday for the first time I was running in just a t-shirt. Well, not just a t-shirt as that would have been indecent, but no need for windproof jackets or hats and gloves. I was doing some interval training so was working pretty hard. That was a hard session. Basically it involved running really fast for ten minutes, having a four minute break, and then going fast again, a couple of times.

I thought that one advantage might be that at least I will look like I'm running fast than everybody else for a change, but no, it seemed like everybody was doing the same thing, or just that everybody in Bristol runs really fast. Everybody seemed to be sprinting like mad fools rushing past me, which didn't help greatly.

Thursday was probably the most difficult run for a while. It was only 45 mins as per the plan, but I was really feeling it and nearly stopped at one point, which was disheartening in lots of ways. I feel like I'm being broken, in order to build me up again, or something.


I've had lots of good advice about nipple protection lately and the consensus is plasters over the sensitive areas. Last week was carnage in that area I must say. I did wonder what sort of reaction I would get from Amy if I asked to borrow her sports bra, as that is really the best option (you don't see women afflicted in the same way), but thought better of it and will be going for the manly option of stick plasters on my nipples. Not sure how manly I will feel ripping them off at the end of three and a half hours though.

New jeans, new waistline

I have taken a picture of my arse, which you may find a little odd and perhaps might think all this running and lack of alcohol has sent me over the edge, but fear not the aforementioned rear is fully clothed.
I took delivery today of a new pair of Levi 501s, which I haven't worn for about four years.
I was so please to be able to slip into them, not just because of the way they fit better than any other jeans, IMHO, but because they are a 34 inch waist.
I'm so pleased to be able to get into them that I decided to document the moment and take a pic of my Levi-clad backside.

 

It feels so liberating to wear good clothes again, it's been so long. I know they make Levis with a 38 inch  waist, but they don't look good on a fat bloke. In fact, nothing looks good on a fat bloke, unless your Pavarotti in that painting smock he used to wear. But he was Italian and even fat Italians manage to look cool.
I have spent a lot of the last few years schlepping around in a pair of very cheap jeans from Asda which I only bought because they managed to fit round my huge gut at the time.
I also bought a huge black jumper at the same time in the hope that it might look slimming, but who was I kidding.
In fact I was treated by Amy to a trip to M&S at the weekend for my birthday (I am an M&S man now, I've given over to the inevitable) and bought a load of shirts all sized 16inch collar, which again is something I haven't done for a long time.
It's like being let back into normal society to wear clothes which are design to hang off you, not stretch around you like canvas over ten frames.
The jeans were also a present from my parents and I asked for a 34 inch waist not knowing if I could fit into them, but damn it I dared to dream and today I lived that dream and walked around all day in them, just to prove they did fit properly, no stretchy waist bands or lycra in woven into the material to help get them over an ample rump. Also weighed in at 14st and a pound today.
Now don't get me wrong, I know that a 34 inch waist isn't exactly the stuff of snake hipped male models, but I've come down from 38 and was actually probably more like a 40 but couldn't bring myself to buy new trousers that big and put up with tight jeans. (By the way if you say trousers over and over again it begins to sound absurd).
My ideal would be to get down to a 30inch waist, which I had when I was 18 I think. But that was a while ago now and I have just turned 35 so perhaps I should accept I can't have everything I had when I was 18.
I mean, I had a 17 year old girlfiriend then as well and it probably wouldn't be a good idea to have one of those at 35. 
Moving on, I had a great run tonight, felt like I was going really fast, for me at least.
I should have done four sessions this week but did two instead and I have a three hour run at the weekend to look forward to. I don't know if I did the right thing, but I did put some real effort into the Bath half on Sunday so felt I should recover properly from that before attempting another very long run. I want to feel fresh when I take on Bristol for three hours or more on Sunday, I want to make the long runs count, but I know I need to keep fitness up as well.
So tonight's run was heartening as I covered a distance that used to take me an hour in 47 minutes and kept the pace up most of the way.
Also got a bit of a fright when I realised we are already in mid-March and there is just a matter of weeks to go until the big day and I have loads of money still to raise and lots of distance to cover. Wish I had another six months!

It never stops, even on my birthday

Today is my birthday, I can hardly bellieve I'm 35-years-old.
That means my next really big birthday bash is going to be my 40th, and that is scary for some reason. Can't escape having to grow up now I guess.
So, I'm going out for a slap up meal with some friends to celebrate tonight.

But of course, before that, I will be doing four 8 minute bursts with 3 mins recovery, as per The Plan, which cares not a bit about my birthday.

Did 45 mins last night, felt remarkably fresh considering my effort on Sunday, so that was a good sign. Looking ahead to a three hour training run on Sunday, that could hurt.

By the way, anybody got any tips for nipple protection? I know this sounds a bit disgusting, but it's all part of it. I slapped on what I thought was a goodly amount of Vaseline onto my upper torso including nipples on Sunday, and still they got scracthed and bled. Sorry, sounds horrible I know.
So I just don't know what to do about it, any good products out there?

Happy birthday to me.

Bath Half Marathon 2010 - great run, shame about the organisation

I had a great run today at the Bath Half Marathon. I finished in 2hrs and 17mins, which at first I was a bit disappointed with, but on reflection I've decided it's no bad thing. Unlike the organisation of the event, which I will come onto later.

Pic caption: Happy runner. At least I finished this time!

I had as usual piled the pressure onto myself to do well today, as I felt it would be a really important barometer for my London Marathon training. So when I was unable to keep to 10 minute miles within the first three miles, I started to feel like the whole thing was just a waste of time and that I hadn't trained enough and that there is no way I was going to be able to take on a full marathon in a little over six weeks.
But actually, it turns out I put on an extra minute every two miles, so in the end was seven minutes over where I wanted to be. My best ever half marathon time was Bristol 2006 in 2hrs 10mins, and the only other time I've run the Bath half was the same year, in 2hrs 30mins.
I guess 2hrs 17 is not the end of the world and if, somehow, I managed to keep that kind of pace going in London, I would still finish around five hours, or possibly under that. Although I doubt it.
Today felt very different though to any half marathon I've done before. I was very relaxed going into it, fully confident for the first time that I knew I could do the distance, so actually it was all about how I performed and how I managed my pace.
The whole thing was very matter of fact, I wasn't clinging on to dear life to keep going, I was measuring my performance against each mile and thinking about how I would be able to increase my speed over the next couple, or slow down to ensure I didn't burn out.
Also for probably the first time ever I started off passing people and kept passing people all the way to the end, it was weird.
Even after a customary toilet break after the first half mile, unlike Bristol last September the entire field hadn't disappeared by the time I had gone for a pee. (see earlier blog).
I kept up with one or two people for a lot of the time, although they didn't know it, but if you are the short-haired blonde girl who wore a pink running vest and grey trackies, I am grateful for your pace.
That really helped me get into a rhythm I was comfortable with and the usual inspiring beats on my iPod pushed me on. As well as the massive bowl of seafood pasta I had for dinner last night. (I put on 5lbs overnight after easting that)
I knew I had to give it some beans so I really did go for it a bit and found that I was able to up the pace when I felt like it. Maybe not for too long, but when it got to 12 miles I wanted to push on to the end and was able to put a decent spurt on to the finish.
It was really strange getting to 12 miles and really not feeling like I'd been through mill, as I usually do at that point, or more usually I'm walking with blistered feet by then.
I think I know I'm getting better as my attitude changed quite radically and I found myself becoming a running monster. Gone are the days of happily plodding along with all the other fatties at the back, chirping on about how just being there on the day is enough of an achievement. No, screw that, get the hell out of my way, I'm on a mission and you're an HGV in my motorway fastlane, grrr.
Suddenly the jovial chubby fun runner had been possessed by the kind of single minded, fat-hating, self-centred ejit that I'd always despised on runs like this. I had started in the slowest category so there were a lot of slow people around me, (even to suggest other people are slower than me is staggering), and I started running on the pavement to get past them and made a point of getting through the walkers, as if to say 'If you're too weak and unfit to get to five miles without giving up and walking, then you shouldn't be here!'.
And if I wasn't being ever so slightly fascist towards them, I was getting more and more enraged at the number of spectators who thought it was hilarious to run across the road in front of the runners, or ride their bikes alongside.
I realise I'm not an elite Kenyan athlete who cares about each millisecond, but I just thought it was bloody annoying for these idiots to run across just as we were all trying to keep our momentum, especially the fat, chavvy families who clearly had no respect for the effort being made by thousands of people today as they scurried over the road to get to the chip shop to feed their obese children even more lard.
I even saw one guy, a runner in fact, smoking a fag as he went up Newbridge Road, I couldn't believe it. He had a number on his shirt and was in scruffy old running gear, and had a full on B&H in his hand and was puffing away. Clearly not a lot of respect either for those running for cancer charities, heart disease charities and in memory of loved ones who died of cancer.
You see, an absolute monster I became out there, and I don't know why.
Normally I would applaud anybody who was making an kind of effort to cover 13 miles, whether they were walking or running like the wind. But today, I saw one of the power walkers and just thought 'what't the bloody point love, get out of my way'.
It was a whole new experience, not really one I'm proud of. But I did feel I put in a good effort and was really focussed on what I was doing.
When I got to 12 miles I just ticked it off in my mind as another mile down and carried on. That has never happened before, and I felt like I could have gone on. I'm not sure if today I could have gone on for another 13 miles, but I definitely felt that I had plenty left in the tank, as they say, and within minutes of finishing was breathing normally again and really felt fine.
So, great run, I even liked the course. Some people aren't keen on two laps, but I didn't mind it, at least I knew what was coming. Also there are nice gentle downhill bits which helped me pick up speed.
I just wish the organisation of the event was better.
I am so annoyed by the way things were organised on the day that I feel like I don't want to run it again.
People may feel I'm making a meal of this and I'd really be interested in what others think, but I thought the Runners' Village was a disgrace.
In a nutshell, all the entry and exit points into the Runners' Village were constantly jammed as they just bottlenecked with all the people trying to get in and out.
For a start the signing was terrible. I expect to queue for the loos, but it was desperately slow, and it wasn't until I'd been queueing for about 15 mins that it became clear that there were blokes' urinals to dash in and out of.
Okay, that may be just one of those things, but getting out of the village to get to the start point was not easy as again it wasn't clear where to go and it took quite a while just to get out of the gate. Once out of the village I made my way to the start, which wasn't that easy to find and on its own probably wouldn't be an issue but by this point I was just annoyed and all the little things were getting to me.
Anyway, so we all trot off and have a great run. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day on cusp of spring, still a bit of a chill in the air but I warmed up pretty quick.
Marshalling and drink stops were okay, except the Lucozade station had run out by the second lap. I thought that was pretty shabby as I was looking forward to a bit of a boost and it's not as if I was right at the back. If it was a one lap race, that station would have been about 9 miles, and you would definitely expect it to still be stocked.
There was water about half a mile or so later.
These things are minor annoyances, but when we got over the finish line I couldn't believe what was happening. After catching my breath and grabbing some fluids, I joined the line of people going back into the Runners' Village and found myself being herded like cattle with thousands of others trying to fit through one gate.
It was so frustrating, the whole crowd came to a stop and we were just waiting around getting cold and cramping up. There was nobody on hand to give out foil wraps and I dread to think what it would've been like if it had been colder and even raining.
At the end of the run all you want to do is get your medal, pick up the goodie bag and get out of there.
But instead we were crammed together for a good 20 minutes, waiting to get into the Runners' Village while feeling pretty knackered from running 13 miles and really not appreciating the wait.
The entry gates to the field next to The Rec Rugby Ground which they use for the Runners' Village, are clearly not big enough to accommodate the amount of people on the run, so bloody make the gates bigger, or don't have so many runners.
When I finally got through and picked my wonderful goodie bag, which contained a t-shirt, a granola bar, some deodorant??? and leaflets, woop di do, I then had to wait in line again to get out of the other side of the Runners' Village. And still I couldn't find a foil wrap to keep me warm. I asked one woman where she got hers and she said she took it out of the recycling bin! And there wasn't anybody I could see to ask for assistance.
So, that was all pretty crap really. I can put up with delays at the start and a bit of confusion about where to start and all that, but really the end of the event should be much easier to deal with.
I've never had that kind of problem at Bristol, and even the half marathon I did in a Kenyan game park was better organised than Bath.
I've probably been too harsh, I'm sure plenty of people had a much better experience, after all nobody died (that I'm aware of) and maybe there will be few complaints. But for me, at that point of the event, when thousands of people were just trying to get warm and go home, the organisation failed big time at the point when it should have been at its smoothest.
Sorry Bath Half organisers.
This must be one of the longest blogs I've written in a while, so I'll stop it here as I suspect few people will be reading this far in any case. Bum poo willy and boobs - just seeing if anybody does make it to the end!

Next stop London. Bring it on!

Approaching the home straight

Morning sports fans,

It's been a while and I apologise but a combination of being really busy and still having no broadband (thanks for nothing Orange) has kept me from my favourite past time of inflicting gruesome details about my training regime up you.

Some good news on the weight loss front this week as I've been weighing in at 14st 2lbs, which has been very pleasing and so close to four stone down from the start of this journey. I still feel I could have lost more had I not stalled in the summer, but that's life I guess. Without the gastro-band option it does take time and ultimately I hope to be feeling better for the gradual reduction.

Also it is apparently five weeks until I have to star tapering down to the big day, and that really doesn't feel long enough to go from 14/15 miles up to 26. That famous atmosphere everybody talks about really needs to do its trick on the day I think.

I had a horrible moment on a run at the start of the week when I came off a kerb and felt my ankle twist slightly, feeling queasy just thinking about it. In a flash I saw the whole thing falling down around my ears, the dream was over, and I'd be spending April 25 sitting on the couch wishing I could be there. But likely it wasn't a proper sprain and I ran it off within minutes. But it served as a reminder of how frail the body is really, even a chunky lump like me, it doesn't take much.

Training has been a bit of a slog lately as well. I ran for two hrs and 26mins last Sunday and it was tough from the start. Everything felt rubbish for the whole way round. My legs felt heavy and like I was wading through tar. My headphones didn't fit properly and were annoying bashing around at the back of my head, my left nipple did its usual painful bleeding trick, and I just couldn't find the energy, although I did keep going. If nothing else, I proved I could just get through it and get to the end, so that was something.

Fortunately the shorter runs I did this week ahead of the Bath Half Marathon were much better and in contrast felt like I has springs in my legs and was happy to motor on, so I'm taking that as an encouraging sign for tomorrow.

I am looking forward to Bath tomorrow, it should be a good gauge of how I will get on in London in the sense of running in a big event. It's very different to plodding along on your own for two hours in the dark.