Missed Mob

I've started so I'll continue ... I set this up as a running Blog. Unfortunately I'm currently not running, nor am I likely to restart in the forseeable future. However, I enjoy writing and writing about running so I'll endeavour to continue with some relatively topical stuff to maintain momentum. If I do ever start running again, and there has to be some doubt, I will use this Blog to chart my progress from the painful first steps, through a very gradual build-up, ultimately leading to victory in the World Masters Marathon in Brazil in 2013. You read it here first!

Firstly though, a non-running tale (or perhaps tails) of May, Lucy & Max. These are three donkeys we visited in Derbyshire last weekend. We actually went to stay with friends Lyn & Ian in their magnificent house in the hills overlooking Matlock, but Claudie's real desire was to spend time with their donkeys, plus chickens and cats! Taking two of the donkeys for a walk to the pub was worth the drive up to the Dales alone, especially when one decided she was going no further whilst standing in the middle of a main road! A great weekend.

Anyway, back to running. Ranelagh is a traditional running club formed in 1881, making it 128 years old. Like all sporting institutions it has had its ups and downs but it has survived because members love running and enjoy the camaraderie of the sport, bringing together all ages, both sexes, any standards and is classless. The simple mantra, certainly when I was a regular at the club from 1974-1990, was train/race hard then enjoy a pint or two to chew the cud over any subject and with any group you ended up standing around. Great times.

The club has four mob matches each winter; very traditional fixtures with some of the oldest clubs in the country: Thames Hare & Hounds (founded 1868), Blackheath (1869), South London Harriers (1871) and Orion Harriers (1911). With Ranelagh, that's 645 years of existence for just five clubs. The races are on good old fashioned cross country courses over 7½ miles. In one race against Blackheath in the 80's the two clubs mustered 200 runners but these days it's usually between 30-50 per side to score. Since 1974, when my school chemistry teacher Jim Forrest suggested I turn up, I've run 135 of these damn races, that's over 1,000 miles of competitive action in some glorious countryside: Richmond Park, Wimbledon Common, Farthing Downs, Hayes Common and Epping Forest. One race at Blackheath was cancelled because of deep snow and sadly I missed a race in 1999, it would have been my 98th consecutive, due to flu. Having had to commute from Gloucestershire since 1990, that's 75 races or c16,000 miles up and down the M4/M3/M25, my carbon footprint doesn't marry well with the simple freedom of the running, but it's been well worthwhile. I've finished in every position between 1st & 32nd, with a personal worst of 82nd after a long injury lay-off; fallen over countless times; gone off course (mainly in Epping Forest where one year the first four runners finished from the four spectrums of the compass!); chatted about the race in the shower with Ronnie O'Sullivan; raced against at least six Olympians (Chataway, Brasher, Disley, Jones, Welch, O'Sullivan [Sonia, not Ronnie, although snooker will probably be the next sport allowed into the Olympics]); spent many happy hours in the bar afterwards and at (initially stag) riotous suppers where the likes of John Bryant, Chris Brasher, Mal Cother and Auguste Lespinas regaled members from both competing clubs with hilarious and sometimes ribald stories.

Sadly, next Saturday I will miss another Mob due to my Osteitis Pubis and I doubt whether I'll make any of this season's races. It sort of feels like the end of the road, although I'm sure I'll be back for more, if only for the friendship and enjoyment experienced through mixing with people I've run with from all of the clubs over the last 35 years. In fact there was a short piece in Athletics Weekly this week about Les Roberts from Blackheath. He and I used to battle it out near the front in the 80's - he usually prevailed - and share a beer afterwards, but sadly he now has Parkinson's disease. To raise money he's recently cycled from Land's End to John O'Groats despite being on massive amounts of medication. Read his book, great title: From Wits End to John O'Groats. That's what this magnificent sport is all about.

Rio

So Rio got the 2016 Olympic Games despite Barack's last minute day trip to Copenhagen. That's great news, glad the IOC got something right at last; thankfully it puts the States in their place. Just a shame that pragmatism like this didn't result in Paris getting the 2012 Games instead of London. Their bid was far better with so much more of the infrastructure in place. Unfortunately politics took over, London got the Games and we will pay for it for decades to come. We can already see funding being reduced for sport in other areas i.e. Sport for All as it was and should be. The government is spending billions on what amounts to a two week elite jamboree. All this nonsense about it improving grass roots sport is just that ... nonsense, because there are no facilities for the masses. Crazy. We've just had a fantastic high quality World Athletics Championships from Berlin, at a fraction of the price of the Olympics, yet all the pundits could talk about was whether so and so would be in peak condition for 2012 - what about the next World Champs in Korea in 2011? If I was an international athlete, I would far rather travel to the other side of the world rather than risk wind & rain for a run around the east end of London. What we should have in this country is centralised sports facilities in every town the size of Cirencester or bigger, that's what happens in mainland Europe. It is practical, ensures that facilities, both sporting & social, are utilised cost effectively i.e. every day, and brings camaraderie to local communities. I've seen it in Holland, France, Germany, Italy and, more recently, Finland.

The news is fantastic for Brazil, one of the four developing BRIC countries (Brazil, Russia, India, China) that could well dominate the world economy in the years to come given their size and population. I can't believe it's a year since Wendy ran in the World ½ Marathon Champs in Rio (this year's event is next Sunday in Birmingham, not quite the same methinks). Rio is certainly going to dominate the world's sporting stage, with three major events within three years: working backwards, the 2016 OG, 2014 World Cup soccer and the big one, the World Masters Athletics Champs (I'll be there) in 2013!

On the home front, no progress to report on my injury. It's now eight weeks since Finland and despite not running a step in that time, the Osteitis pain hasn't abated one iota. The only thing I've gained is weight, a full stone now. I've stopped using the exercise bike, as I felt it was aggravating my problem, but am doing some core exercises in a futile effort to make me feel I'm doing something worthwhile. The truth is, only rest will help. With the onset of a touch of arthritis in my right hip, diagnosed by Rod Jaques at the same time as the Osteitis, together with some numbness down my left side (don't ask), the prognosis isn't good. My chances of jogging this winter's Ranelagh mob matches, to keep my continuous streak going, are now pretty forlorn I'm afraid. Still, enough of my self-pity, as my mum used to say in her best Scottish accent, "me, me, me, that's the curse of this wretched world."

Talking of mum, I had the dubious pleasure this afternoon of taking charge of the coconut shy at her care home's autumn bazaar (and very bizarre it was too). Because of the dodgy weather most things were taken back indoors but I was left in the marquee that promised to implode or take-off at any stage in the wild winds. It was all rather surreal and as a consequence my total take was £1.50, not great. The whole thing felt flatter than a relief map of the Maldives despite a local valuer doing a type of Antiques Roadshow. We took along a tin dated 1914 from my aunt who died a couple of years ago. The valuer recognised it immediately but was amazed to find the contents intact: a Christmas card from Princess Mary to the troops in the trenches, plus cigarettes and tobacco to help them along! Not sure what the cigarettes would be like now and I'm not about to try. Value was £50-70. Mum, who's suffered with Multiple Sclerosis for 35 years (I remember her using a stick when I was at school) and has been wheelchair bound since 1984, the year we were married (she tried desperately hard to stand up that day, with great help from Claudie's dad, but it was so tough for her), has been in Elm Grove Nursing Home since dad died in 2003. At 85 she is doing well, but I really feel for her as every time she makes a new friend, they invariably die. Another one expired this week at the grand age of 98, mum having befriended her over recent months and made her very contented at the end. Reminds me of some lyrics from The Doors:

"This is the end, beautiful friend
This is the end, my only friend
The end"

There is no finish line

The finish line was in sight on Westminster Bridge. The Japanese, Hiromi Tanaguchi, was poised to run sub 2.10 in the 1987 London Marathon, with my Ranelagh clubmate Hugh Jones just a few seconds back, yet with 200 yards to go I was still ahead of them both. It had been a long tortuous road that Sunday morning 22 years ago, particularly on the cobbles at Tower Bridge … particularly driving the lead vehicle, a milk float! Of course, I didn’t win. Just before the bridge I was guided into a pre-arranged parking spot from where I got a great view of the race finish.

I’m currently not allowed to run at all so have been doing some very gentle cycling on an exercise bike at home. It is about as exciting as counting paperclips, so over the last week I have cycled whilst watching the 1987 London on video, it’s the only record I have of any of the Londons but makes great viewing.

Some things never change, like the music and the dubious quality of Brendan Foster’s commentary (although he managed to go 26 miles without mentioning Paula Radcliffe’s name (she’d have been just 13 then so not a surprise)). Some things immediately struck me however: there were no East Africans running and although the quality at the front of the ladies race was very good – Ingrid Kristiansen attempting to break 2:20, three Brits under 2:30 – when the camera panned through the masses they were nearly all men.

The commentary (David Coleman, Ron Pickering plus the ubiquitous Foster) and the graphics were poor, the latter looked like they came from another age, which in computer terms, I suppose, they did. The commentators weren’t helped by the lack of information on times but their lack of awareness made you really appreciate Crammy.

The race was good to watch. Grenville Tuck did some pacemaking before a pack of about 10 broke away. Hugh, resplendent in his Ranelagh vest, tended to be at the front, pushing hard as was his wont. With no cloned & sponsored East Africans all wearing the same vest as invariably happens today, it was great to see club vests & national vests from all over the world: Japan, Italy, Norway, Turkey, Morocco, USA as well as the UK. Taniguchi eventually pulled away through the tower cobbles and held on from a Moroccan who just outsprinted Jones. That gave Hugh a full set of medals, having won in 1982 (still Ranelagh’s club record, 2.09.24!) and finished second in 1986.

Kristiansen, who held the world record of 2.21.06 at the time (London 1985) was surrounded by minders in the early miles – the elite women used to start with everybody else in those days, which was tough for me the year I drove the lead vehicle in front of the women’s race as I had to weave around lots of men – and they dragged her through too fast, thoroughly confusing the commentators. Foster switched between lauding what a fantastic runner she was going at 2.17 pace to how, later on when she started suffering, how suicidal it was! Ron Pickering then uttered a great phrase: "take too much out of the bank early on and you go broke".

Although slowing dramatically, Kristiansen won easily enough in 2.22. Second home was another Ranelagh Harrier, Priscilla Welch who, at the age of 42, broke the UK record with 2.26.50. Proof, if ever it were needed, that age is no barrier to running fast marathons. With sensible, organised and structured training over a period of time, it is amazing what times runners of all ages can attain. Welch had Mick Woods of Aldershot for company in the last mile or so. He is now one of the most successful coaches in the country, numbering Steph Twell amongst his athletes.

I spotted lots of old acquaintances in the race and it brought back great memories. I was very lucky to be running in that period as the depth in standard was so good. Seeing masses of runners coming down The Mall in the 2.15/2.20/2.30’s was evidence of that. It would be easy to say I wish I was running the times I did then in today’s weaker fields but the reality, of course, is that I wouldn’t. The only reason I ran at a decent pace was because everybody around me was doing the same. I just wish I could get across to today’s runners that most don’t understand the sort of times they are capable of. Watching the video – available to anyone interested – should make it all apparent. Just ask otherwise ...

Some statistics: my lunchtime training partner in those days, Bill Harvey, was 158th in 2.29.43 (he was a V45 then), this year only 54 broke 2:30 of whom 11 were elite Africans under 2.10. There were 600 under 2.40 in 1987 and only 175 this year. Most amazingly of all, the roads of London were reopened to traffic 4½ hours into the race, in 2009 that would represent barely half the finishers!

PS On a different tack, my darling daughter is settling well in Paris and has decided to write a Blog about her time there, so if at all interested have a look on http://www.natzinparis.blogspot.com/

Osteitis, food, wine & birthdays

Four weeks of no running and I am now considerably lighter in the wallet but heavier in the stomach. Two visits to Dr Rod Jaques, Head of Medical Services at the English Institute of Sport and well known to many Cirencester athletes, plus an MRI scan in Cheltenham, have confirmed the diagnosis of Osteitis Pubis. At least I got presented with a cd of pornographic photos after the MRI, one of which is reproduced here. It clearly shows fluid (white bits) on both sides of the pubic bone, thus causing inflammation on the pubic symphysis joint holding the bone together. Wear and tear - yes I know, I'm getting old - plus weak abdominal and adductor muscles have led to this state of affairs which will keep me off games for a number of months.
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None of this surprises me as there has been such a long lead in to it; the abdomen pain first manifesting itself in early July. I'm pretty sanguine about it all as life goes on. I had far worse news on a different level last Friday, running is just a recreation. As Sophocles stated, we runners live on "the razor's edge of luck" (thanks Mucky Knees, are you down in Ciren later this month by the way?) and I've sliced off a bit too much. At 52 and with a World Champs to run in, I don't regret having pushed hard as I don't know how many more chances I'll get. That attitude is also relevant at much younger ages: make hay whilst the sun shines. It is far easier to train hard with a young body but also without the constraints of work pressures, family etc. So you 20 somethings, don't talk about training hard 'in a few years', get out there now and go for it.



It does frustrate me somewhat that having initially seen my GP a couple of times to ensure that my abdominal pains were nothing more sinister, and getting the all clear on that front, the NHS then washes its hands of the situation and passes me onto the private sector. All the State propaganda propogates an active healthy lifestyle, running being one of the main ways to express this, yet when health issues arise the State isn't interested. Maybe I should take up smoking, at least I'll get free treatment when the inevitable happens.


Last week didn't help my non-running physique. With Natalie off to Paris to work for a year we had a couple of big special meals with her; we then had friends from Germany staying for two nights, one a big meal with lots to drink at home, the other a large and excellent curry in town. Finally on Saturday we went to a 60th birthday party at friends in Surrey. There were 16 of us and every couple provided a course. Lunch started at 2pm, after the obligatory glass of champagne, and went on well into the evening. Our host, Paul, has the finest wine cellar I know and we did our best to help him drown his sorrows - it was his birthday and 60 has hit him hard.


With Messrs Edelsten & Curry both hitting 65 this month and occasional golfing partner Dave Cowell just turned 60, I'm almost feeling young at 52 despite all my aches & pains.


Finally, best wishes to Cirencester's club captain, Adrian Williams, in the Berlin Marathon next Sunday. He's had a few problems in his build-up - turning up for a race a week early; going off course in Milton Keynes ½ Marathon; turning his ankle whilst warming down from a session; travelling too much for work (only himself to blame as it's his own company and he makes far too much money!) and hurting his back after camping for a week with his family. A London Marathon AAA qualifying time would be pretty impressive after all that and should be easily achieved, as long as he doesn't fall down the aircraft steps in Berlin. Good luck matey, you deserve it.

World Masters

Now back from a great trip to Finland & Russia so should write something about what was a fantastic experience running in the World Masters Championships in Lahti, about 100km north of Helsinki. This is a truly massive event lasting two weeks and encompassing all the track & field disciplines. But unlike the true World Athletics Champs just finished in Berlin - what a great games they were, tough for London to emulate - every event had multi races to cope with each five year age group from 35 to 100+. Just look at the results on the official website, they go on forever: http://www.english.wma2009.org/ The competitors handbook, which listed all 5,500 entrants from 90 countries was a mighty tome indeed. These championships, which have been going for about 35 years I think, have become great meeting places for veteran athletes all over the world. They compete, eat & drink together, party and generally have a fantastic time before reconvening at the next global games two years later. The friendly atmosphere was very easy to perceive. Claudie & I managed to take in some of the track & field the day before the marathon, when I picked up my number, and also after my race when all the relays were taking place. Despite staying out of town we met up, chatted to and swopped contact details with athletes from America, Italy & France as well as Bourton, slightly closer to home (but more of that anon). Any of you veterans out there, put Sacramento, California in your diary for July 2011 and enter the next World Champs!

There were about 800 runners in the marathon (picture shows the start). It was run on a two lap course with a few undulations near the end of the lap but otherwise pretty flat. There were quite a few twists & turns, including a lot of clambering up and down kerbs, and the course followed the shores of a big lake for a few miles on a fairly rough & loose surface. It was hot! The race started at 9am; there wasn't a cloud in the sky. There was no shade on the course and the lakeside running had the added burden of a reflected sun beating down on the runners. Still, it was August, what more does one expect? To keep out of the sun before the race, I found a computer and checked out the Ashes scorecard from Headingly ... England all out 102!

Once I got over my usual abdominal pains and associated stiff adductors in the first km, I soon settled into a good pace of 3.55 per km (2.45 pace). I very quickly met up with Pauline Curley, a well known current senior Irish international runner - I'd spotted her in the entry list and commented to Claudie that she may be a good marker to look out for, always difficult in a foreign race when you don't know anybody else. Pauline seemed really happy to hook up with me and she asked if it was ok for the two of us to run together for a while as she was looking for some help / reassurance as to pace. Her best is 2.39 and she was looking to run in the low 2.40's but was not sounding confident. We got into a good rhythm and chatted quite a lot; being the first woman (by a long way) whenever we encountered big crowds she got a big cheer (have you noticed also that wherever you are in the world you'll always find an Irish bar and lots of Irish people - Finland was no different, but I digress) and that delivered adrenelin resulting in a surge in her pace. I warned her to be careful and control her pace which she did. She was constantly asking if the pace was ok. My legs were feeling ok but every time my right leg hit the tarmac I felt a stab in my abdomen with the kerbs just accentuating the problem. We ran the first lap sensibly, allowing surging runners to move through but also gradually reeling in some fast starters. It was great seeing everyone in their national kit and it was fun looking at ages of runners from the numbers pinned on the back of their vests.

Pauline had a friend on a bike who appeared regularly and Tony Spedding from Bourton, out with his wife Lynn supporting Dennis Walmsley's effort, also made an effort to cycle back, give me support and log my position, which was greatly appreciated. At 16km, by which time a Venezuelan V45 had joined our small group, we caught a larger group of about a dozen runners including four V50's, three Italians and a Spaniard. A km later Tony called out that he had good news and bad news: I was now 4th but there were four other V50's on my shoulder. Strange humour these Bourton people! Halfway was spot on plan at 1.22.30 with Claudie telling me that the third placed runner was a minute ahead (she later told me the gap was much larger but she wanted to make me feel positive).

The three of us then kicked on, leaving my rivals well behind, with the 5km to 25km my fastest of the race - not the most intelligent thing to do but I'd locked into the pace with the others and it seemed the way to go. Inevitably I tired (and ached!) and I let my partners move on with some final words of encouragement to Pauline. My spirits lifted shortly after as I caught and passed the third placed runner to move into a medal position. I held this through to 35km, by which time I was still on 2.45 pace. But I knew it was all over. The last 7km was purgatory; I was reduced to a shuffle but knew I couldn't stop and walk because my abdomen would seize up and I'd have to give up. Managed to raise a decent pace for the last km but it had been so frustrating watching a United Nations of runners edge past me, including some with V50 numbers.

The V50 winner was a Belgian guy in 2.39 (his current best being 2.29), with silver running 2.46 and bronze 2.48. I ran the race with one goal in mind, a medal, and suffered accordingly at the end. I probably made a few mistakes - coaching Pauline round being one, I can't help trying to help others; she was over the moon, winning in 2.43 - but the real problems were the heat; my impaired preparation in the last few weeks because of my abdomen, and the lack of sufficient fluid out on the course. This was my only criticism of a great event. My 5km splits were: 19.12, 19.22, 19.47, 19.45, 18.59, 19.36, 20.56 to 35km. Do the maths if you want the painful truth about the last 7km! A week before the race I had serious doubts as to whether I could start so I had to be happy with the result despite the frustrations. And perhaps, just perhaps, it will inspire me to target more European & World Masters events. Or should I just listen to what's happening to me and retire gracefully, no more races ... ? This is the conundrum.

Can't finish on the race without mentioning Bourton's very own Dennis Walmsley. He ran a superb race to win the V45 age group with a 2.33 clocking. To avoid running in a vacuum he bravely went out with a pack running at 2.28 pace and was strong enough to hold on in the second half for a momentous victory. We waited around afterwards to see his medal ceremony and listen to the national anthem - stirring stuff. We also caught up with Dennis and his lovely wife Lucy a few days later in Helsinki where we celebrated his win with a fine meal.

We stayed in Heinola, another half hour north of Lahti and famous for being the home of the World Sauna Championships, which just happened to be taking place on the same day as my marathon. After the race we went back, had a few beers and a big meal and watched the semi-finals amid a great party atmosphere - Finnish heavy rock band Eternal Erection (there’s a name, DH) provided the alternative entertainment - as barbeques, heavy drinking and raucous cheering echoed through the late evening twilight. It was quite hilarious: half a dozen fat blokes would enter what looked like a garden centre shed on the stage vacated by aforementioned rock band, then sit in the "sauna" as long as possible as the heat was cranked up. Last one left won, simple really. Perhaps this could be my new vocation – not sure whether it’s professional and there’s a ‘circuit’ - although I think I may need to bulk up marginally from looking at the competition. A report of the championships even appeared in the UK press: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/6001375/Finland-takes-gold-in-World-Sauna-Championships.html

Well at least I tried

World Champs a great occasion but result for me was bad. A combination of 30 degree heat and continued abdomen pain meant that 42km was too far on the day. Got up to 3rd after 25km but then went backwards. Should have finished 2nd. Longer report to follow when back from Russia. Holiday going great - definitely holiday weather not marathon weather!

Difficult decision

Still reeling from the awful news of Stephen's death last week. And as I feared, we won't be able to attend his funeral on Tuesday as we'll be away in Finland & Russia. I'm a bit down with that but there was no choice in the matter. I just feel that I want to formally pay my respects to a dear friend so we'll have a quiet moment at the time of the funeral.

Now in the throes of getting organised for our northern odyssey. Claudie and I are off to Finland tomorrow (Thursday). The World Masters Athletics Championships are being held in Lahti, about 100km north of Helsinki and I have rather stupidly entered the marathon which takes place on Saturday, the last day of the championships. This is a big event with athletes from all over the world competing in all age groups from 35 to 100 and is held bi-annually - Sacramento in California in 2011 for anyone interested!

The question is, should I run? I've put in the training, with lots of consistent mileage and plenty of long runs, but the last month has been dogged by a progressive pain in my abdomen which is still to be fully diagnosed. I have been told by my doctor and physio that I won't do myself any permanent damage by running so it's a question of whether the pain threshold is bearable. Of course it may mask the pain of running 26.2 miles in which case I should run well! All logic and common sense dictates that I should stand on the sidelines and watch the race but ... The course is two laps so I'll probably start - at least I'll get to wear my GB vest and run in a world champs - then see how I'm doing at halfway. If I look really bad - nothing new there - then Claudie will probably drag me off the course anyway!

We have a week or so in Finland, initially staying in a lakeside resort, then Helsinki, before taking the 5½ hour train journey into Russia and St Petersburg for a few days. Should be interesting.

My last race before the marathon was for Ranelagh in the Elmbridge 10km on a delightful course by the River Thames at Walton (see picture at 9km). Despite initial pain problems, I soon got into a good rhythm and sustained sub 3:30 k's throughout to achieve my best non-Bourton 10km time for 16 years. I even managed to beat all the V40's which was nice. The fitness is there but is the body willing?