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"