Virgin London Marathon

  Dear Blog, (Sunday after my recovery snooze)

What trudging did you do this morning, Blog? Did you go out with any other Blogs? Have you any races coming up in the near future. I went out this morning over my hilly ‘10’; I call it ten but it is a bit short and quite frankly, who’s bothered?? Answer ... many joggers and runners are. Well , they are about the accuracy of their own runs, the distance they cover. What a load of cobbles. I have noted before that I can see no point in wearing a garmin to measure what distance you have sweated over. I think it’s as crazy as those joggers who wear a watch in races and then click when they cross the finish line. Instant gratification?? Don’t trjuhst the race organiser and timekeeper?? Don’t want to run too fast in a race?? They never question why they don’t improve radically. Take a chance, take a chance on my advice! It is obvious from what I have just said to you that I do not weigh my left arm down by carting a huge clock around with me. Nor weigh down my right by lugging a drinks bottle along as my comfortor. How do I know how far I have run, then?? Who’s bothered? I’m not and never have been. I have stated to you before, dear Blog, that that was not the way I worked my training. I used to reckon that I ran 140 miles per week for quite a number of years ... 12 miles from Durham to Sunderland in a morning, 12 miles from Sunderland to Durham in the evening, a short sharp 3ish at lunchtime to the local folly on the hill, race Saturday, long run on a Sunday when I contemplated my first marathon race. Years back, I was curious about my estimation of distance, so I measured a few runs ... all were under stated, so my actual mileage must have been a bit more than six score and ten? No wonder then, that I am five inches shorter than when I was eighteen. On the trudge this morning, I was over taken by two cyclists who almost cause a death by shock! I didn’t hear them approach and nearly jumped into the ditch. (OK so I’m going deaf!) They did speak and thought it I looked funny sitting in the ditch. Fair enough! A few minutes later the same thing was repeated but with no comment from the peddler and I avoided the sitting bit! He said nothing to my greeting. Then I met a jogger trundling towards me; he said nothing in reply to my greeting. Then I met another jogger trundling towards me; he said nothing to my greeting. Last Thursday, I was overtaken by a runner from my club; he said nothing. Last Thursday I was overtaken by a group of eight from my club; they said nothing. AM I BLOODY INVISIBLE , BLOG??? Are they scared I will sit them down in front of a computer monitor and force them to read our little correspondence, surf boarding to them must be worse than water boarding? My faith in the club runner was restored however, when one of the runners, off the back, did speak. Thanks N.  I appreciated that.  Near the end of my trudge, one of the local clubs was having a handicap race, the competitors running towards me. Each one, EACH ONE, replied to my words of encouragement. Funny old world. Trudging has been a real pain in the neck this last week. A real pain. Literally. A pain in the neck. I must have strained my neck muscles when I was doing all the scraping, up a ladder two weeks ago while I was decorating.

I was asked why I did not call our correspondence colinkirkhamsvirginlondonmarathontrudge, Blog? Well, if you have the ear of Richard Branson, and he has a few quid notes to spare for charities Tiny Tims Children’s Centre and Newlife, I am sure the Rich and I could come to some mutually satisfactory arrangement. You may give him my telephone number, Blog.  I’ll stay in all week, sat by the phone, just in case. (I don’t have one of those mobility things)

                                             Yours, The invisible Trudger

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no. 28:- OK OK. A flask is a flask is a flask and nothing but a flask so help me .... But why does this particular flask reflect how out of touch the athletic officials were to the needs of marathon runners in the 1970s???

Well, well, well, Bloggie, you’re a bit of a dark horse aren’t you? A real cool dude? A sheep in fox’s clothing! I went down to the athletic club last night to do some quality interval trudging on the hills around the university, when, in a passing conversation, a fellow trudger mentioned that there were lots of Blogs about. Well, I don’t mind telling you that this came as a bit of a surprise; a bit of a shock to the old thought cortex. Back in January when you wanted to become my friend, you never mentioned that you came from a big family, not that it was of any consequence. You have said nothing about them since either, which considering all the time I have spent telling you about my exciting life, is a bit disrespectful, don’t you think? A bit of a give and take is called for here but you’re giving nowt an’ tekin’ t’all. I hope I am not offending you, if they are not your relatives do forgive me for making that assumption!! Putting the cart before jumping ship? If they are family, do they run? What distance do they do? What standard of trudger are they?? Are they in a trudging club? Are there any little Blogs? I got my daughter to check that 10 Power thing but she couldn’t find a single Blog listed. That Power thing, if you don’t know, is like an eye spy in the sky recording you’re every movement except it’s not in the sky, it’s not an eye and it only records what you do when you do it when you run and then it only records what do when you run if you run fast enough ... which means, a bit of a trudge slips under the radar sort of thing, if you know what I mean. So does that mean that all the Blog family are trudgers like me?? Or do you have the odd jogger or two in the family?? Anyways, we didn’t find a Blog on the 10 Powwow site so I looked in the local telephone directory, and there are no Blogs in there either. It’s Blogless. Does that mean the Blogs are ex-directory? Or does it mean that they do not live in Coventry? Where do they live? In the telephone directory there was Blogg with a ‘gee, gee’ but they own a livery stable near Meriden, which is a one horse town  just outside Coventry. I must confess that I did gogglise you to check the name Blog, Blog. But I drew a bit of a Blog blank. I found a Joe Bloggs, but he seems a bit of an ordinary bloke, just a typical muggle but dressed up to the nines. Perhaps I have misunderstood and like a fool, I assumed that Blog was your last name, your surname. My intentions were good. Is it your first name? If so, what is your family name .... I’ve realised that I don’t know much about you, do I? You are like a latter day nameless Marie Celeste, you are. On the other hand, I may have got everything completely wrong. My mates down the club could be taking the proverbial Michael, taking the piss out of me, do you think?? Taking me to the end of the pier and launching me into the briny? Sending me up the creak with only a paddle? I’m sure they wouldn’t. Or are you unique? The one and only Blog? Now that would be something, wouldn’t it?. ‘I am the one and only ....’

Still sticking with the charities for a bit ... got another £100 last night. So don’t forget, I’m still collecting the odd copper or three for both charities Tiny Tims Children’s Centre and Newlife. I’ll have to close soon or they will think I’ve done a runner .... and we both know I only trudge don’t we Blog!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There I go again, confiding in you, and do you confide in me????????? Not on your nelly. Lots of questions with no answers. Do I ever ask you a question or two and then never give you an answer?????

                                Colin

Prize or not to prize, that is the question

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no. 27:- Why is this medal important? What aspect of racing pre WW1 does it typify? (See article below)

Dear Bloggie,

 I went to the annual Harbourne A.C. ‘5’ mile road race earlier this week (see tomorrow .. if I remember!) to watch my daughter race. We stayed for the presentation afterwards to pick up her award. No disrespect to the other athletes who didn’t turn up to collect their respective prizes as most had to go to work the next day, the travel home making it a long day. As a race organiser, an apology for non appearance at the award ceremony was always appreciated especially if the race sponsor was taking the trouble to dish out the prizes. But it got me thinking. So I found a darkened room. What do other countries do? And why do we give awards at road races. I told you earlier in our little tete-a-tete¹, didn’t I Blog, about the Irish who turn the whole event into a social occasion, free food and drinks being given out to competitors while the result sheet is being compiled. At least that used to be the situation, what it is now with their country’s financial problems, makes me wonder. The point I am trying to make is to question the whole idea of dishing out prizes. It used to be just the first three – plain and simple. Then along came the women. Then along came the Veterans before they metamorphosed into Masters. Then the number of finishers expanded .....  Many of the runners in road races who expect prizes happily compete for their club on the track in league races with no expectation of material reward. Many of the runners in road races compete in open track races with no expectation of reward. Many of the runners in road races compete over the cross country in the winter and get nowt. But get a bit of tarmac between the toes and there is a demand for goodie bags, t-shirts, freebies, prizes for each 5 year vet (sorry Masters) age category .. and woe betide a race organiser who doesn’t recognise the one legged over 90 geriatric age trudger  who for a five mile race takes about 45 minutes to get to the start line before the gun goes for the race! From my researches into the History of Athletic Development if the Coventry City Area I assume it is a quirk of athletic history. In years gone by, in the summer, prizes were given at handicap meeting to attract runners who spent the winter trailing over fields far and wide where  the winning team and individuals usually were awarded with an expensive gold or silver medallion courtesy of the local business man who had a philanthropic interest in the sport. The handicap meetings were mostly attached to fetes and galas; more athletes competing meant longer entertainment for the paying punters at the gate which in turn increased the income/profit for the organisers. Evolution such events meant an increasing number had a road race tacked on for good measure. In the 1960s, with the decline in handicap meetings and the birth of leagues, here there and everywhere, there was no need to give prizes. There was no crowd interest. There was no crowd! The handicap meetings died but the road races continued as a separate entity, soon to cater for the new breed of runner .. the jogger. Each road race organiser now strived for self gratification by trying to attract bigger and bigger fields with the added kudos attained if a classy field could also be sucked in; the latter enticed by cash incentives, first covertly under the table then openly presented. Uniquely, Rowheath Harriers organise a series of three races during the summer with a minimal entry fee and no prizes. The event does not seem to suffer in popularity as a result of such parsimony. It would be interested to see if others might attempt a similar approach although the Park Runs do seem to fulfil that criterion.

                                Colin

Ref: 1. Sorry Blog, I don’t know how to do those funny things that you stick on the word!! Perhaps you could tell me, if you know?

Gerschler, Igloi, Cerutty and Lydiard: Marathon training tip no. 4

 Marathon training tip 4

I call it DOFFMORR. Like many innovative methods of training, it has its origins in the 60s. You, dear Blog, will have heard of Gerschler, Igloi, Cerutty and Lydiard with the different methods they employed to help their charges succeed on the world stage. Well in a backwater of God’s own country, in the backwater of Ingrow, the seeds of DOFFMORR were germinating. It has to be acknowledged that the government’s education policy had not a little to do with the planting of the idea. At the time, much resentment was felt by the youth of the day when the government passed legislation to raise the school leaving age from 14 to 15. The bill was rushed through parliament for obvious reasons giving schools a whole new age group to cater for. Grammar schools were OK as many of this new age grouping stayed on at school after the statuary requirement for leaving anyway. But the Secondary Moderns now had to grapple with an embittered set of kids who wanted just to leave the confines of the punishment block and start to earn money**. In those days, you could leave school on the Friday and walk into a job on the following Monday. So these kids had an axe of non cooperation to grind. And grind it they did. Ask anyone who was teaching in an inner city school at the time. These kids, pupils, students, educational customers call them what you like to be politically  correct, were labelled ROSLA kids; Raising Of the School Leaving Age. Part of the reasoning behind government policy was the need to cope with the baby boom following WW 11. Many ideas were gandered to occupy this clientele for the twelve months, very little of it being constructive for or helpful to the kids.  At my school, the policy was containment, pure and simple; to get them out of school so they couldn’t cause even more disruption and destruction. DOFFMORR, was our answer. Brilliant idea, I kid you not. It helped the kids develop initiative, made them self reliant, helped their skills in geography, honed their mathematical knowledge and most important, few staff were required to supervise. Today, it would be the subject of court proceedings, legal enquires, child abuse prosecutions etc if it were to be repeated now. So. The curriculum for each day went as follows. 9am to 9.30 – registration. 9.40 board the fleet of mini buses. 10.15 drop the pupils off. Where??? Ah, that was the clever bit. The kids were not told where they were to be dropped off. The idea being for them to make their own way back to school, by whatever means they could for registration at 3.45pm. What was even cleverer was the fact that the staff knew that the kids knew that the staff knew that they would not come back to school any way, especially if the drop off point was cunningly design to give easy access to the city centre. And they had a legitimate excuse to be off the premises!!! At 3.45 the register was fiddled and the staff went home. If a kid dared to make it back to school, then the following day was R.D., retribution day for the misguided child!  When all the kids were about to be dropped off, that pupil  was singled out and taken further afield to be deposited in the country side. No buses to catch there. They soon got the idea!!! So what has this to do with DOFMORR, Training Idea No. 4, you may ask???  Well suppose you want a 10 mile session. You get a wife, partner, uncle, aunt, brother. sister, anyone to drive you about 10 miles from home and you make your own way back home. DOFFMORR – Drop OFF, Make Own Return Route, geddit????.  Better if you don’t know the drop off point intimately. Garmins are not allowed as that would spoil the session. No mobiles either but an emergency phone number allowed in case it gets too dark before you die of exposure. Eat your heart out Percy, Woldmar, Arthur and Mihaly, I thought of it first!!!

Still collecting the odd tupenny piece for my two charities Tiny Tims Children’s Centre and Newlife.

**PS. Déjà-vu as they parlays sort of, if you know what I mean ....  Much like today’s workforce being told they have to do an extra couple of years to get their pension entitlement.  

                                            Trudge

Holme Pierrepont National Water Sports Centre

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no 27. Why should a cyclist feature in an athletics blog, Blog?? Who is it?? Who is the official doing the pushing and why was he so important to sport in the Coventry area??

Dear Blog,

Now look here Blog, I can tell you that there is no need to be jealous. Of course I have a few, a very few, friends here, there and everywhere. If you must know, I have regular mates in New Zealand, France, Germany, Russia, Singapore, Brazil, Ireland, Australia, Norway, Ukraine, China, Belorussia, Denmark, Canada, US, Switzerland, Italy, Israel, India, as well as a couple in the UK! They salivate at the thought of my next blog to you, Blog. My pearls of comfort circum navigate the globe many times before they are washed out to the Sea of Indifference and are lost forever. So don’t go thinking that you are so special, matey boy!

The answers to the May’s quiz are:-

1. No            2. No           3. No            4. No            5. No            6. No           7. No            8. No             9. No            10. Only when you tie your shoe laces with a reef knot and the drinks station runs out of water.

How many did you get right, Blog? Of all the entries I received, there was just one all correct entry. So well done, Mother. Your prize, a cheque for £150, is in the post.

I mentioned in past correspondence to you that I had an outstanding interest in taking part in the Notts ‘10’ (as a past winner). The race is held around the Holme Pierrepont National Water Sports Centre. I was running around there this morning in glorious sunshine and clear blue skies before God started to water his plants. It was only when I had finished my gentle trudge that it was pointed out to me that the race had been held a couple f weeks previously!!! ‘It was in Athletics Weekly’!!! Well some of us don’t read Athletics weekly thank you very much, not since it has started its spiral down into tabloid tittle tattle. The intellectual content is slowly reaching the depths of the 90s publication when readers left the magazine in droves and took out subscriptions to ‘Athletics Today’ which was written by knowledgeable athletic writers with athletes the target readership, not pandering to the mass commercial market, with pseudo product testing and spurious repetitive advice about diet and schedules. Not that I am too concerned about the deterioration except that it does leave an interested athletics reader with little of interest to read. As a kid, we often picnicked below the weir at the Sports Centre; this was years before it was built, sand and gravel extraction occupied the site then, the industry at least leaving a wasteland which Nottinghamshire County Council have done a brilliant job in reclaiming and utilising. If only more local authorities had similar vision. One not a million miles from where I live could take a note or two. I did do a bit of binocularing over the weekend as some interesting birds nest around the lakes. I saw an exciting confrontation between a couple of crows and a heron. Crows are so protective. Any bird that comes near their nesting site, watch out!!! From the garden, I often see crows dive bombing buzzards, the latter continuing to wheel on the thermals only occasionally reacting to one of the attacks.

 Any time you get fed up with me communicating with you Blog, please say so. I don’t want to bore you or waste your time. I am quite happy listening to the grass grow and watch the paint dry, any time. Can’t beat either if you ask me. Not that you ever do!! Still collecting the odd thrupenny bit or two for my two charities Tiny Tims Children’s Centre and Newlife.

                 Sumotmore tomorrow,Colin

UKA

Photograph Quiz:

Photo no. ‘think of a number, double it, add fifty two, divide your answer by two, take away the number you first thought of and your answer is 26 ‘. Try it, it’s true!!!!!!!!!!!!!  My sums at University did have a use after all?

Why did this Godiva Harrier suffer from the ‘cycle crash’? Why did he move South?? What National medals did he win? What world record did he hold? Where is his grave??

Dear Blog,

I have been pretty busy this last couple of weeks as I may have mentioned, hence my neglect in keeping you informed about my interesting life and times!!! So what I have been up to, you are desperate to ask but are too shy? Well, I think I told you I have decorated the staircase which also involves the halls at the top and bottom. This was a mammoth task as the walls were covered in distemper ... not the doggie type but the Victorian covering although the former would have been easier to remove.   How to shift it?????????????? ‘The internet will tell you’ went up the cry! At this point I usually shout out a very rude word which begins with A and ends with S and is nine letters long but because you have had such a cloistered upbringing dear Blog, I shall refrain!! Every ones answer is ‘tinternet’ but like most slightly unusual bits of required information, it was USELESS with a very capital ‘U’. Basically a Stanley blade scrape was the only solution. So six days of damaging my highly sensitive lungs with the dust produced and a constant barrage of abuse for my wife for the mess being produced, I lost my rag a little, even my granddaughter’s stuffed dog covered in the corner! Then I had a considerable amount of plastering to do. As Mike Angelo will tell you, plastering is OK if you have someone to keep stirring the plaster for you .... but if you haven’t, it is bloody hard work, especially when you are climbing up and down ladders. Well, I got that done, then I had the task of fixing the light fitting. An easy task you may think. Well for a normal light fitting you would be perfectly correct in this assumption. But there are light fittings and there are light fittings and this was a light fitting. Half a dozen years ago, we went on an extended camping holiday to Holland. No fixed plans, just a wander round. Now everyone knows that everyone speaks English in Holland, don’t they??? Well everyone is wrong, WRONG. There are basically three types of camp site in Holland. The type we are used to in England, a private farm/field site and a woody type which are a latter-day hippie communes, peace brother, love sister. We ended up at a site which was a cross between the last two. I didn’t see any free love, however. In fact I thought it was quite expensive.  And not an English pidgin in site to talk to. We wos definitely out in de steeks. After a couple of days, I discovered a notice for a Dutch jumble sale to be held at a farm the following night. It was the stuff holidays are made of. A once in a life time experience. Again no word of English, but we did manage to buy a lamp fitting. A monstrous gothic wrought iron contraption straight from the set of a Dutch horror film ... and we all know about those types of Dutch films, don’t we Blog. Even you must have heard them mentioned in the cloisters? 2 euros it cost. 2 euros?? Anything costing 2 euros had to be bought, whether it had a use or not. 2 euros. We went Dutch and paid up. It was so horrible as to be rather exquisite. It was so hideous as to be quite beautiful. There was another two different designs, both equally large and ugly, which we should have bought with hind sight but we had difficulty getting the one we purchased in the car as it was ... and we still had all our camping gear at the camp site ... how to fit it all in?? Big question. My wife got quite cold hanging onto the roof rack on the journey back to England but at least she warmed up on the ferry crossing. My daughter got very fit running alongside the car! Back to the decorating. Two days it took to hoist the light fitting into the stairwell. Block and tackle job with no block and tackle. The joists had to be reinforced to take the heavy weight of the light. During the whole of the fitting struggle, the vision of the chandelier sketch from ‘Fools and Horses’ was very much in the fore front of my mind. Its up, its working and it looks brilliant. Brilliant. But then the bookcase on the top landing was not suitable, was it?? So I spent the next week plus, designing and building a mock art deco seven shelved bookcase out of reclaimed wood to blend in. Well ‘blend’ is the wrong word. It had to stick out like a sore thumb to be effective. It is and it does. So Blog, my trudging has suffered. In fact it is gnigdurt, to coin a phrase!

I think I have three pledges outstanding for my two charities Tiny Tims Children’s Centre and Newlife. As they are substantial, I have still not wrapped up the accounts!!

More on Monday Blog.

Colin

Training Tip no. 3

Dear Blog,

Having returned from a few days trudging while camping I thought I would continue my theme of helping to maintain your interest. So next idea for a trudge:-

       This involves the session organised for you so that you do not have to think or plan; bliss??? No sitting down sketching out details of mileage, no need to give thought to surface to avoid impact type injuries, no consideration to quality. A quarter of a century ago, I used to spend some time in northern Scandinavia, Sweden and Finland. I was always amazed to find all weather tracks built in the smallest of villages, villages situated well inside the arctic circle. Facilities for changing etc. were free, no attendant to supervise, community trust ruled. The tracks were flooded in the winter and used for ice hockey!! Attached to the tracks and camp sites were jogging trails of varying length, some flat, many undulating, most having ‘street lighting’ so their use was not curtailed during the long winter months, the lighting controlled by infra red sensors, each light triggered by passing a sensor, five or six lamps before needed, thereby conserving energy by not having the lamps lit continuously. Mimicking this set up, I have often camped at a camping club site within forestry commission woodland or a private site backing onto woodland. The commission do an excellent job laying out tracks and paths providing an endless combination of pathways to train on. Varying gradients with decent underfoot conditions allows quality and quantity sessions without the necessity to plan a workout; the fartlek session is laid out for you. Try it Blog. As a suggestion, one such private site I have used is near Newent, close to Gloucester. The site backs onto Dymock Forest and Newent Wood with many paths and trails. The facilities at the site are first class with free showers and toilet block on a tidy site. A weekend away from the familiar surroundings will do you the world of good, Blog.

And don’t forget I am still writing to you to squeeze an extra penny or so for Tiny Tims Children’s Centre and Newlife charities.

                                                         Colin