Ye gods, how have I offended thee?

I’m not a particularly religious man but I couldn’t help feeling that I done something to offend the weather gods on my run tonight, as thunder, lightning and hail rained down on me in what seemed a concerted effort to make me turn back and give up on the whole idea.

Think the weather gods were trying to tell me something

Added to this was the uphill challenged of getting out on a run at all given the amount of cider, whiskey and wine consumed last night in what can only be described as a belated Wassail/Burns Night mash-up, which involved lots of food, some poetry and a lot of boozing.

I needed to at least run off the excess but somehow managed to stun and amaze myself by running more than 5.5 miles, non-stop, in the pouring rain and thunder. The hail was quite something, stinging my legs and turning the road and pavement white in a matter of what seemed like seconds. Thankfully I was wearing my baseball cap and the visor shielded my face against the pummelling. Which was fortunate as with a face like mine the last thing I need is for it to be made any worse by getting a face full of hail cutting it up.

It took 1hr 22mins, so no records broken, but I couldn’t believe that after the night I’d had last night, and the fact that just a month ago I couldn’t run half a mile without blowing up and almost throwing up, I managed to keep going for 5.6 miles.

This means I’ve smashed the first goal in my training plan, which was to be able to run five miles by the end of January. I wasn’t really sure I could do it when I set that target, but it feels like this week I’ve regained all the ability I lost after basically giving up running three-years-ago, and the muscle memory has kicked in and remembered how to keep going. Otherwise I’m at a complete loss to be able to explain how I’ve been able make such good progress this past week or so.

I’ve also lost a total of 17lbs in weight since the end of December so that is clearly having a huge impact as well as near abstinence from boozing. An abstinence that was quite spectacularly smashed last night.

So, next target, to be able to run ten miles by the end of February. And by the way weather gods, thunder lightning and hail, is that all you got? Bring it on.

Do I look like I eat curry every day?

I had to laugh earlier this week after checking into a hotel for a work-related overnight stay in Banbury.

Having parked my cock horse (whatever that is) in the car park and got myself settled, I enquired of the helpful receptionist as to the proximity of the town centre, having never spent any time there myself.

She informed that we were indeed close to the town centre and there are number of Chinese restaurants, kebab houses and Indian food establishments, in fact the best place for a curry is just a short walk from the front door.

Now, given that I hadn’t asked about the best place to get junk food, and setting aside the fact that I’m sure her boss would be delighted to know she was actively pushing potential customers out of the door to the nearest curry house, I could only reach the conclusion that she had taken one look at me and decided that all I was interested in was access to the nearest and least healthy eating option. And fortunately the best Indian in town was just a short waddle away, that even somebody of girth and rotundity could manage without getting too out of breath.

How could she make such an assumption? Perhaps I had asked the question because I was interested in getting to know more about this historic Oxfordshire town, its place in English folklore and the cultural heart beating within its ancient buildings? Just because I may look like I eat curries and drink lager all the time, doesn’t mean it’s necessarily so.

Turns out the Indian take away probably is the cultural centre of the town, but I could be doing it a disservice. A quick stroll through the darkened shopping centre on a cold and darker January night probably doesn’t do it justice.

Either way, I managed to avoid the lure of the numerous take aways (she wasn’t wrong), and settled for a lamb tagine from the less-than-extensive hotel menu. Which tasted a bit like a curry anyway.

Post marathon blue/illness/general crapiness

It's a weird thing this marathon running. Turns out you can train for a year, get in the shape of your life, become stronger and more lean than you could imagine and then go out and run 26.2 miles non-stop, only to pick up the first little bug to come your way once you stop, and be laid low for days with a dicky stomach.

It seems I'm not alone in feeling really quite crap at about this time post marathon. I've been looking things up on t'internet and apparently post-marathon blues is very common as all the planning and preparation and training is focussed on the one single day and not enough thought about what happens afterwards and how you deal with the come down.
There is some medical science behind it too as you're so full of addrenalin in the weeks up to the run, that once you finish that all drains out of your body and your immune system plunges making you prone to any piddling illness that comes along and tries its luck. A bit like Superman when he's wearing that Kryptonite neck chain and even weedy Gene Hackman can have a pop at him.

So it is that this week I have been laid low, even slain by a troublesome stomach bug that started to make its presence known on Tuesday and by Thursday evening had well and truly moved in and refused to leave, despite many attempts and eviction.
I did even wonder if it was somehow appropriate that as the general election progressed on Thursday into Friday towards its inevitable stalemate, I was feeling worse and worse.
I was really looking forward to staying up to watch this great moment in history live from the BBC's ridiculously over-resourced and pointlessly expensive election studio, (still more bearable than Sky's bloody Kay Burleigh), but in the event I was barely able to keep my eyes open and was most concerned about missing the Bristol West result because of being in the loo most of the night.
But I really don't need to add to the huge expanse of commentary and ill-informed speculation surrounding that event.
I am more interested in this post-marathon stage of my life. I knew that it was important to keep training after the run and in fact I went out for a gentle 35 minute jog on the Thursday after the marathon, which felt fine.
I have got my next goal in sight, which is the Bristol half marathon, but after doing a full marathon it feels like I really don't have to try very hard to train for that.
Right now I obviously don't feel like training at all, but I'm sure that will change once I get over this bug.

But I've heard from a few people who are feeling really aimless and pretty low after the run because that huge event has now been and gone and there is a massive gap in our lives.
I never realised that could happen. I assumed I would be just ecstatic from the point I crossed the line until the day I died because of what I had achieved.
Truth is I felt really flat just as soon as I finished, probably because I had just given my all to finishing the run, and I did perk up after my first pint of shandy shortly after. Also, I was very happy indeed taking full advantage of an open bar at a wedding last weekend, for the first time in many months. I don't think Amy could get over how 'fun Bobby' had returned with such avengance.
But I am really worried about hitting a plateau and putting on weight. The day before the marathon I was 14st bang on, a week later I was 14st 8lbs. Today I'm back down to 13st 10lbs, but that's more to do with that bug than anything. So I'm looking forward to starting to train again for something, and my goal for the Bristol Half Marathon is hit 2hrs, which would be a personal best. What I really want to do though is run a marathon again and to be part of that huge event.

I didn't know I would feel like this and had no idea I'd desperately want to run another marathon. Now I know what it means when they say running is like a drug, I'm really feeling like I've gone cold turkey and really need my next hit. A half marathon is like a methadone substitute when you're desperate for the real thing. Although I'd like to make it clear I've never had to take methadone or heroin for that matter, merely projecting my own sense of withdrawal onto that extreme scenario.
Or maybe I should just go and get another hobby, building battleships from matches or something much less draining.
So, anybody know any good dealers I can get a marathon hit from?

Stick a fork in me - I'm ready

Another weekend, another ridiculously long run.
I managed 22 miles on Saturday, in four and a half hours, and amazingly I didn't drop dead at the end.
I had been dreading it but once I got going I was really spurred on by the thought that it would be the last time I had to trundle up Cranbrook Road and down the Portway etc.
For that reason I wanted to put in a really good effort, one last push before the marathon itself.
I had intended to do the same route as last time but I was feeling quite fresh and full of running so added a couple of bits here and there which ended up in me doing 22 miles in total.
I now feel ready to take on the full 26, which even six weeks ago I never thought I would. I couldn't get much more than 14 or 15 miles under my belt and felt I had a mountain to climb.
But actually The Plan that I have been following reasonably closely has worked and I have hopefully entered my peak performance period at just the right time.
There was a moment yesterday when I nearly abandoned the whole thing as the heavens opened after about an hour and the rain was just unbearable, the sort of rain that seems to be coming at you in all directions like one of those posh showers.
Thankfully it cleared because the thought of four hours of that filled me with horror, although I had to accept that it could well be pouring with rain on the day itself so should just suck it up.
Even at three hours into the run I was still feeling strong and ticking along nicely, it was really encouraging and I think my plan to just start off slowly and keep going slowly really paid off. I now really believe that if all I do is keep plodding at a comfortable pace on the day that I will be able to keep going all the way round.
I have to accept that I probably won't finish in five hours though, if I only got to 22 miles in four and a half as there's no way I could do the last four  miles in 30 minutes. I could never do four miles in half an hour, especially after 22. But, what the hell, it's all about finishing, and I should stop being weirdly jealous of Eddie Izzard finishing in five hours as he did have lots of breaks along the way, including 20 mins just before the end.
So, that's it. All that remains is Taunton Half Marathon next weekend just to get me sharpened up and then maybe a bit of swimming and cycling over the next few weeks to keep things ticking over, otherwise the next big run I do will be the London Marathon. Bring it on baby!

Being bad feels good.

Even angels take a day off once in a while right? Not that I'm comparing myself to one of God's messengers of course, but I do feel like I've been behaving very well in recent weeks with not so much as a drop of booze, a block of chocolate or handful of crisps has past my lips.
In fact I've been eating so much salad that lettuce growers in the Kent mega-green houses are complaining of working overtime to keep my local shops stocked.
I bought a tuna salad for lunch yesterday which was so full of dry, bland-tasting tuna chunks out of a tin, that I was worried I might be prosecuted for exceeding European fishing quotas.
About the only other things in the salad was onions. They should have called it the 'Want to drive everybody away with fish and onion breath Salad' instead.
So tonight, I had a bit of a blowout, I've taken a day off. After running my ass off at the weekend in the Weston 10K, I've been feeling a bit worn out and the perpetual cold and rain has really not inspired me to go running this week.
Tonight instead of my now usual fayre of boiled potatoes, beans and fish, I opted for a couple of chicken and salad pittas, which aren't bad in themselves, but I accompanied that with a tube of Cheese and Chive Pringles, the best kind, and followed it with a Kit Kat chunky, oh yes, it was dirty food, and it felt good.
I didn't go for a run either, I just sat in front of the telly munching my Pringles and enjoying the indulgent.
What's weird though is that I feel quite guilty for my binging, but compared to what I used to eat on a daily basis it compares worse than a weakened Wolves side taking on Man United.
Last night I did some more filming with Kirsty and we looked at what I was eating at the start of this challenge in April and it is really no surprise that I got as fat as I did. I was eating about five meals a day, plus snacks.
I actually felt a bit sick looking at it all. Then we looked at my typical daily intake now and it's possibly a third of what it used to be. Three meals a day at the most, with bits of fruit to stave off hunger, rather than entire packets of cookies or sandwiches between meals.
And even though I may have gorged myself tonight, the fact is for breakfast all I had was a banana and fruit and nut bar, with a chicken and cous-cous salad for lunch, with no snacking inbetween.
So perhaps I shouldn't feel too guilty, there's a good chance I haven't even exceeded the recommended calorie intake for the day. Although I feel a bit sick and having cut out the really processed crappy foods, tonights 'treat' doesn't really sit well.
I bet I put three pounds back on as well, in which case I think I may have to go for a run tomorrow night just to counteract the effects of it. It's quite galling to think I may never be able to have a blowout again without having to go for a five mile run to work it off.
Still, there's clearly much worse things to live with and to be honest I'd trade a fit and healthy lifestyle for the odd curry or tube or Pringles.

Two hour run - video diary

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

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.

Calling All Fat Bastards - come and join me

The time for talking has past. The time for action is here.
Today I am launching my one-man campaign to raise fitness and fight obesity among the men of Bristol, by calling for people to join me in forming the all-new Fat Bastards' Running Club.
I've just read that back and realised what a load of nonsense it sounds, but it's all true.
I am now seven months away from lining up with tens of thousands of other loonies at the start of the London Marathon, and I've got a lot of work to do.
The idea of the campaign is to enlist the help of some other people who may be in a similar physical shape and have the same goal to want to get fit and lose weight, because I just don't think I can do it on my own.
The best training I have ever done in the past has been with other people as you really encourage each other and push further than you thought possible.
So the Fat Bastards' Running Club is launching a major recruiting drive for new members.
This is a running club with a difference. There are some minimum requirements that you will have to meet, or at least put up with.
For example, my current running speed is about 4mph, which is about the same speed as a brisk walk.
So if you can't handle running that slowly, it's not the club for you.
You don't have to be a 'fat bastard' necessarily, but the whole point of the club is that it is for people who don't get up in the morning and shave their legs to give them an extra half a second running between Bristol and Bath on their morning jaunt.
It is for overweight, unfit men who struggle to find the motivation to get fit on their own. Women are of course welcome too, on the same terms.
Unless you have a good case to argue, you also have to be over 30-years-old, as it's only when you start to cut a swath through your 30s that you realise how badly you've looked after yourself during your 20s.
It's for people like me, who find running really bloody hard work, but want to do it to achieve the ultimate goal of losing weigh and getting fit.
If you have a goal, perhaps it is the London Marathon, maybe the Bath or Bristol half marathons, or just to run regularly to lose weight, you can join this club and be among friends.
Obviously the idea is that over time you will graduate from the club and become a fit and healthy member of society again and will no longer wear the Fat Bastards' Running Club t-shirt that I'm planning to get printed, all sized XXL of course.
If, like me, you feel intimidated when you go to the gym, or couldn't possibly keep up with the running clubs or military fitness clubs you see on the Downs, this is the club for you.
It is going to be run on a very informal basis, no membership fee, no club colours, just a bunch of blokes (and women) trying to get fit helping each other run around the Downs. Just think how much more enjoyable the pub will be afterwards.
It's the best time to commit to something like this as well, because if you're a fat bastard you know the winter just means an extended period of grazing and putting on even more weight.
So, this is proper serious, if you live in Bristol, or even if you don't but can come and join us, let me know and I will, through this blog and Facebook, organise dates and locations for those first tentative runs.
Email me at simonpeevers@hotmail.co.uk or leave a comment on this blog and let me know if you're up for it.
Come on people! Witness the fatness!