Stop the Calvary

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My Christmas message and year in review

I have had to fight almost every night
Down throughout these centuries
That is when I say, oh yes yet again
Can you stop the cavalry?

Jona Lewie

It seems this year has been dominated by conflicts and wars. Each one seems to out weigh the previous one. I just can’t understand what is happening in the Middle East after years of trying. I know the country of Israel as we know was created in 1948 and Palestine are a bit pissed about it but then there is the West Bank and Gaza Strip. Ukraine has been off the radar but that struggle still exists and how the other former USSR countries could fair. Vladimir Putin clearly wants his legacy to be the reunification of the USSR. Are wars about religion and /or politics or just a lack of communication and understanding or by men who are megalomaniacs? Always it’s innocent people that suffer. I admit that I’m naïve in these things or is it simple as that. Let’s now talk about running.

Final race, well charity fun run, for 2023.

I last ran this 2 years ago and dressed as an 80s rocker even though the announcer thought I was dressed as a porn star. There’s a current television advert where co workers call eachother rock stars. This could be an interesting twist 😂. It’s a well deserving charity run along the beach, depending on the tide.

The race is a beach run so therefore is dependent on the tides so it was a late 12.00 noon start and enabled a bit of a lie in 😂. I rocked up and registered and followed by a warm up from Burnham Bootcamp and then a tug o’ war featuring students from Weston College. The atmosphere was terrific and Christmassy with most of the runners wearing Christmas regalia. The race was either a one lap 5km or a two lap 10km. I had been running a lot over the last couple of months so was keen on the one lap option and a speedier, shorter workout might be more beneficial. At high noon we were called to the start and sent off. The tide is higher near the start so under foot conditions were quite damp but within half a kilometre the sand is firmer and conditions improve but there is plenty of seaweed to negotiate. The loop back had a slight head wind which slowed me a little but I finished in 3rd place and 1st vet 60 👨‍🦳

Another well earned beer

Now for my year end memories. Two of my favourite running moments from this year have involved wildlife. Back in the summer I witnessed around a dozen deer playfully running across a field. Previously I have never seen more than two deer together. Unfortunately my picture doesn’t do it justice as by the time I got my phone on camera mode a few deer had gone off in a different direction.

The second happened on the Esplanade on a dark October evening. I was running along the sea front when I noticed a fox sitting on the sea wall. I slowly made my way forward and beckoned the animal towards me. The fox sniffed my hand but wouldn’t allow me to stroke him. This went on for a few minutes until the fox was startled by other walkers and took flight. Regrettably I didn’t get the chance for a picture.

A joyous sight

Now for the running. Favourite race. Newport Half is a terrific race with a great course and I get to spend time with my son, Elliot. The route to and around Caerleon is is a treat. The winner is though is Swansea Half. A well organised race and the run back from The Mumbles to Swansea is a real pleasurable experience. This year it had the added bonus of rail strikes, cancelled train, bus replacement services and an extra over night stay with an explanation to my Boss. The weekend also happened during the European Champions League Final so we had to find a pub that was showing the final between Manchester City and Inter Milan.

Swansea Half Marathon

Best bling has to be Newport Half Marathon and their 10th anniversary. Next year’s, 2024, tee shirt is in Newport County Football Club’s colours and I’m itching to run that.

Terrific medal

Best away day/s as always is the Torremolinos Half Marathon with Almost Athletes. Unfortunately I was recovering from a bad case of man flu and Sue was still suffering when the event came about in early February therefore I didn’t run as well as I could. A new Saturday 5km run the day before the half and quality tee shirts for both and entries at a reasonable price which races in the UK can learn from.

I have to come back and justify myself

The athletic performance that gave me the greatest pleasure is a tough one. Keely Hodgkinson has been brilliant and improving all year. Katrina Johnson-Thompson won a brilliant Gold Medal in the World Athletics Championship this year but Josh Kerr beating overwhelming favourite Norway’s Jakob Ingebrigtsen at the World Championship in the 1500m has to be the winner.

Finally, many thanks to everybody who spent some of your valuable time to read my exploits and thoughts from this year. 2023 and particularly the last 6 months have been very stressful in my work and personal life but running has always gave me freedom from that if only for a while. I wish all of you the very best of Christmases and a healthy and fruitful 2024.

Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise. Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies

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Fleetwood Mac’s The Chain seems a good place to start. Immortalised as the theme tune to Formula One racing but the words from the first part of the suite has great meaning. Stevie Nicks, the writer of the lyrics, obviously had some real issues over her break up with her lover Lindsay Buckingham. But the lyrics speak to all who have been betrayed and lost and let’s face facts sometimes life or someone has let us down. Stars can’t shine without darkness.

Dreams

Some of you may be aware that recently I have experienced a ‘crisis’ in my life. Perhaps it might have been called a mental breakdown. Things have got on top of me recently and the current instability and negetivity has brought me down. My, or rather incidents in, past hidden in a shallow grave in my psyche which, thanks to my counseling, has risen up and bitten me in the ass. The feelings that submerged are/were uncomfortable, painful, tearful, but very necessary for a recovery.

In between these excruiciating sessions I run. I run to feel the wind blow, I run to feel the sunrise, I run to damn your love and damn your lies. I can see it’s about breaking the chain. This chain links my past, the things in my past I regret, my mistakes but…

Listen to the wind blow, down comes the night
Running in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies
Break the silence, damn the dark, damn the light

Solitude and loneliness bring those thoughts back. Thoughts of unworthiness, thoughts of despair, thoughts of weakness, lack of self esteem and confidence, and worse thoughts. So what can I do? I think in the moment and control what I can control. Fortunately I have a fabulous support network of close friends who help me immensely and without whose help I shudder to think what might happen.

Breaking the Chain but I’m no super hero

It’s not only my friends but my running. I’ve been signed off unfit to work for three weeks and running and that runner’s high has kept me sane and buoyant. Again a couple of friends who meet me and take me out for that ever so important run. Those runs, and there have been many, have taken me around the streets of Burnham-on-Sea, along local trails, along the beach, the esplanade and parks, Ian and Matt have guided me on runs further afield to the Quantocks and the Mendips to bathe in ‘shinrin yoku’. Immerse myself in the beauty of nature and it’s wonderful colours at this time of year.

Today the rain fell incessantly. The opportunity to get out for a run was diminishing minute by minute and I felt particularly at a low ebb. I sat in my son’s bedroom staring out the window. A message pinged on my phone from Sophie, a friend. She asked how I was and we got talking and joking. She said she wanted to run so I offered to join her and she accepted. We met and she said she was only going to run 5 km, which was fine by me. We ran and chatted and when we finished our run it was over 4 miles, more than we intended. Sophie was pleased we had ran further and I was pleased I’d helped. Win, win and a positive finish to my day.

Sophie and me

And if you don’t love me now (you don’t love me now)
You will never love me again
I can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain (never break the chain)

I’m trying and I will.

Rockaway Beach

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Chewin’ out a rhythm on my bubble gum
The sun is out and I want some
It’s not hard, not far to reach
We can hitch a ride
To Rockaway Beach

The Ramones

Well, September has been a shit month. I’ve had a problem with my left knee all summer which I’ve tried to manage. I was due to run Cheltenham Half Marathon at the beginning of the month but I didn’t feel ready and turned all my attention to the Torbay Half Marathon. My wife and son, Sue and Elliot, went to Paignton many years ago for a weekend away but I didn’t realise that the Torbay Half Marathon was to be ran that weekend. That was in June but now the race is scheduled in late September and the the weather can’t be trusted especially on the coast where rain and wind can pick up.

I love Paignton, the town and the beach, and the opportunity to run the half was something I couldn’t resist. A weekend away at the beginning of autumn would be just perfect to recharge my old bones even if I had to run 13.1 miles. Running is essential for my physical and mental well being. I have a daily log to achieve. I have to walk 10000 steps, walk a mile, hydrate and do a 30 minute activity every day. These obsessions keep me sane!

Imagine how I felt when on the Saturday morning, the day before the event, I received a message to say that the race had been cancelled due to a weather forecast of high winds and heavy rain for the following day. Overnight accommodation had been booked and paid for, travel expenses paid for and all lost. At least the entry fee could be refunded but I had lost a lot of money.

Apparently, Sunday’s weather in Devon wasn’t too bad and many of the entrants ran the race anyway. I realise that race organisers should take bad weather into consideration, especially for marshals, but runners do make many sacrifices to run these events and it costs the ones who have to travel financially.

Life’s Been Good

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Lucky I’m sane after all I’ve been through
(Everybody say I’m cool) (he’s cool)
I can’t complain, but sometimes I still do
Life’s been good to me so far

Joe Walsh

It’s only now, now that I’m 61, that I realise I’ve suffered with my mental health since I was a child. I am the youngest of 5 and the only boy but instead of being spoilt elder sisters were returning home after failed marriages and relationships and I found myself isolated and unable to find somebody to listen to me.

Monday 2nd September and I finally manage to get a week off from work. Things have been very intense this last eighteen months and time off seems a real pleasure where just to relax and unwind is the purpose rather than try and achieve something. These days I’m not sure if I’m injured or this is how I’m going to be from now on.

This particular Monday is also a red letter day. I will be running with a new group called Talk Club. This is a massive ‘out of my comfort zone’ as I haven’t ran with a group or anybody for a couple of years. I really prefer my own company. Running with others allows them to get into ‘my space’ and affect my thinking in a negative way. Too fast, too slow, I’m wearing the wrong shoes, etc. Lots of pointless crap. There is always the ‘character’ who wants to tell you in great detail about their day and experiences.

I was looking forward to the run with Talk Club but as it was getting closer I was getting nervous and ‘bricking it’. Why the hell would I want to leave my comfort zone and do something that I hated? Well, it just might be me and my mindset in a better place so it must be worth a try, right? So, I rocked up. Not too early but not fashionably late. Two guys walked over from the car park wearing running kit to the meeting place and I figured, rightly, that they were part of Talk Club. I introduced myself and they also. They were both named Jack so that made it easy. I did offer to change my name to Jack to make it easier but they were okay. We hung around for a few minutes to see if anybody else would turn up and then made our way out for a conversational three and a half mile run at around 9.30-10 minute a mile pace.

Talk Club work on the basis of 1-10 base of mental health. 1 being very poor and 10 high. This reminded me of Graeme Fowler, a Lancashire, Durham and England cricketer, broadcaster and coach who suffered from depression. He has a system of 1-20 but really 10-20 as below 10 was exceptionally bad and this makes better sense to me. Whatever was spoken about during the run was completely confidential and we all spoke freely about our fears, insecurities and triggers. Thinking back, 3 was a good number. Any more and I would find it overwhelming. I think talking through your problems is a very positive thing especially during an activity like running. Talking and listening are two things that have been lost in recent years. The Club, at the moment, only meet once a month on the first Monday so here’s to October.

Suicide is Painless

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The theme from the the 1970 film MASH

The game of life is hard to play
I’m gonna lose it anyway
The losing card I’ll someday lay
So this is all I have to say

Suicide is painless (suicide)
It brings on many changes (changes)
And I can take or leave it if I please

Whoa. This is a difficult blog to write.

For myself and many other cricketers whether village, club, county, international or just armchair this last week has been very sad. The death of Graham Thorpe, who represented England in Test Matches and One Day Internationals from 1993-2005, has been announced. Thorpe was a terrific left handed batsman who at batting four regularly had to face a rear guard action and counter punch while playing for his country. The shocking thing is the manner of his death. Suicide for a successful sportsman may seem odd but depression affects anybody whether rich and famous or poor and struggling. Apparently, Thorpe had been suffering from severe depression and anxiety over his last few years and had made an attempt at taking his life a couple of years previous before taking a role as the coach of Afghanistan.

Graham’s sad death reminded me of German international goalkeeper Robert Enke. Enke played top flight football in Germany, Portugal and Spain and took his life, as Thorpe did, in a train incident and that must be a terrible way to end your life. Enke, like Thorpe, suffered from the insecurities of anxiety and depression and was terrified that would go against him and his wife from adopting a child. No one will ever know what triggered Thorpe’s depression but I can say from personal experience that these triggers take many forms and deal with them in different ways.

People talk of a positive mental attitude but this may not come naturally. Your thinking must be trained to be this way especially when you feel down. Down is a horrible word as is sad or low. A depressed, anxious person feels completely worthless and can see no future. They catastrophise everything and think the worst will happen but there will always blue skies and the sun shining tomorrow. Nowadays depression is far more noticed and diagnosed because more people are admitting to the struggles they face in everyday life and many charities are out there giving support. Depression is no longer a stigma but you must be able to talk as talking is important. Sometimes just talking through can help. It may not be the answer but might give you the chance of some clarity.

I have to admit I’ve considered and attempted suicide a couple of times. One time I was at a weekend at Butlins in Minehead. I had had enough and I couldn’t take anymore so I just walked out. My aim was to walk out into the Bristol Channel and never return. I walked for miles but decided to return as I didn’t want to ruin my trainers. What a stupid reason for not taking my life. When I got back to Butlins, security took me back to my apartment as the Police were out looking for me. My wife, sister in law and brother in law were shocked to see the state I was in. Stupid things may trigger an episode and stupid things bring that clarity.

Suicide may be painless but it hurts those who remain.

Starman

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There’s a starman
Waiting in the sky
He’d like to come and meet us
But he thinks he’d blow our minds

There’s a starman
Waiting in the sky
He’s told us not to blow it
‘Cause he knows it’s all worthwhile

He told me
Let the children lose it
Let the children use it
Let all the children boogie

David Bowie 1972

Starman was a poptastic sensational top 10 hit during the summer of 1972 Munich Olympics

Baron Pierre de Coubertin is credited with revising the modern Olympics as we know it today. Although the ancient Games were staged in Olympia, Greece, from 776 BC through 393 AD, it took 1503 years for the Olympics to return. The first modern Olympics were held in Athens, Greece, in 1896. The man responsible for its rebirth was a Frenchman named Baron Pierre de Coubertin, who presented the idea in 1894. His original thought was to unveil the modern Games in 1900 in his native Paris, but delegates from 34 countries were so enthralled with the concept that they convinced him to move the Games up to 1896 and have Athens serve as the first host.

Olympism is a philosophy that seeks to blend sport with culture, education, and international cooperation. It emphasizes the joy of effort, the educational value of good examples, social responsibility, and respect for universal ethical principles. The ultimate goal is to use sport as a means of promoting the development of humankind and preserving human dignity.

Why? Munich ’72 was my first real Olympics. I remember Bob Beamon’s astonishing long jump world record and Tommie Smith and John Carlos protest at their medal ceremony at Mexico ’68 but that may well be retrospective as I was only 5 years old. The Munich 1972 Olympics I was 9 years old and with handy European timings, it was my first opportunity to follow the games kind of first hand. Leading up to the games, the BBC showed films made by Leni Riefenstahl which I found fascinating but was all German propaganda before the Berlin Olympics in 1936. Her films were real artistry and showed how beautiful the human form is when performing sporting tasks. My dear old Dad a WWII vet, warned me about the fascist ideology connected with those films but I was only interested in the movement and techniques about the sports.

The principles of Olympism include the idea that the ability to participate in sports is a basic human right. Olympism emphasizes that individuals should have equal access to sports without discrimination and that these activities should be done in a spirit of fairness and camaraderie. “Faster, Higher, Stronger – Together” is the modern Olympics motto but it could easily be Let the children lose it, Let the children use it, Let all the children boogie, as Bowie wrote and sang.

ESSO petrol garages gave away books and stickers to fill them with purchases. I, fortunately, lived across the road from an ESSO garage and I was often given a handful of stickers to get rid of me and to the extent that I nearly completed two books. The books were a great insight into the games for a novice like me. There were sections on all the modern Olympics from Athens 1896 to Mexico 1968. All the main players from those were covered like Jesse Owens, Fanny Blankers-Koen, Al Oerter, Paavo Nurmi, and my favourite, Emil Zatopek. He won Gold in the 5000m, 10000m and marathon in a week at Helsinki in 1952. I could tell you when and where all the Olympics were held from Athens to Mexico thanks to ESSO.

1972 was my first experience of an opening ceremony, I was 9 years old and loved sport but this was too much for an Olympic novice like me. Marching up and down and the national teams being presented to the crowd was just too boring. Watching the opening ceremony this evening from Paris 2024 was different boring, like watching a Pink Floyd video. Far too arty farty. What I was really looking too was the action and competition and at the time and looking back there were some real superstars performing. American swimmer, Mark Spitz won an incredible seven Gold medals and breaking World Records in all finals was the pinnacle. Sadly as a Jew, he was advised to leave Munich before the closing ceremony due to events. Olga Kobut, from Russia, was the darling of the games with her amazing gymnastic performances and three golds. On the track Finland’s Lasse Viren won 5000m and 10000m gold after epic performances against Belgian Emiel Puttemans and Russian Valeriy Borzov won the sprint double of 100m and 200m. British Pentathlete, Mary Peters won Gold and that fabulous performance helped to ease the tensions in Northern Ireland for a while.

The world stopped on 5th-6th September when eight members of Palestine’s Black September infiltrated the athlete’s village and took nine members of the Israeli team hostage. They thought the Israeli athletes were sprinters who would offer little resistance but they attacked weight lifters and wrestlers. The siege went on for hours and was televised live. The games were suspended. I was so scared that this could happen in what should be a safe environment to celebrate sport, competition and the vitality of youth. Sadly the hostage ended badly as all the Israeli athletes were killed in a botched rescue attempt. Five Black September terrorists were killed and three arrested only to be released a month later in a prisoner exchange. In total seventeen men were killed six Israeli coaches, five athletes, five terrorists and a West German policeman. This, of course, was terrible but at the time the World was living at a during a period of terrorism and hijacking. I was only 9 years old and very sad after all the expectation of my ESSO book and the heroes in the pages. Olympism failed in 1972.

Bike

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I’ve got a bike, you can ride it if you like
It’s got a basket, a bell that rings
And things to make it look good
I’d give it to you if I could, but I borrowed it

Sydney Barrett Pink Floyd

Piper At The Gates Of Dawn

Not strictly true as it hasn’t got a basket or bell and it’s not borrowed. So completely fabricated.

I feel as I’m moving into a new era. I had problems with my commute to work bike and Lisa Bowen Howe, a friend of mine, offered me her Father’s bike. This really could not have come at a better time. Although I keep active by doing core and stability exercises, yoga and walking but running 6 days a week was really wearing me down and to substitute a run for a longish bike ride would make the perfect medicine to cure my mounting head demons.

I knew from the get go that this was much better than any bike I’ve ridden before. Back in the autumn of 1979 I saved all my available pennies to buy a decent bike. Before I only had my Dad’s hand me downs and this was a chance for cross training and some liberty. That first bike was a Raleigh Medale, a beautiful bike bought from a local bike shop. Unfortunately one day in November my Boss came up to me and said ‘I just saw a bloke riding off on your bike’. What a prick, why didn’t you stop him, you prick? He was an alcoholic and when Dowty’s dropped their sub contraction work there was nothing for us to do and I was made redundant so he was a complete prick. I was doubly devastated. I don’t usually give 10/10 reviews but that tw@t deserves his!

I’ve always loved cycling from the Milk Race through the city races televised on Channel 4 and the coverage of the Grand Tours in Italy, France and Spain. I always found the Tour De France a magical and mystical event. Athletes with super human stamina and strength of body and mind to ride up and down over the Pyrenees and Alps and still have time trial speed. It’s a shame the sport has been blighted by performance enhancing drugs and blood doping. When I was a kid I would stand and wait outside my house on the A38 and wait for the Milk Race to pass through. They passed in a split second but I thought it was so cool and it was my first exposure to top class sport that I can see, smell and not really touch! I wanted to ride but my Dad’s old Sturmey Archer three geared bike with dynamo wasn’t it.

So back to the point of this blog. I’ve left Almost Athletes. I don’t want to be an affiliated athlete to England Athletics. I get no benefits from this so why pay for it it. I am a distant member of the club so can’t participate on club runs, I don’t get any support and I can’t attend club social events so it is a bit pointless. It might only be around 70p a week but I get nothing from it so why pay £35 a year, which can go towards shoes. I have nothing against the club. The people I’ve met are lovely and friendly but these days I’m a bit of a lone wolf and quite happy and content to run by myself and when and where I want too and the £2 race reduction isn’t worth it. I don’t race often enough anyway to make it worthwhile. I saw these both developments a possibility to move on and try something new but never say never.

I’ve been running hard for most of this year, pushing myself harder trying to defy the years. Now I’ve found I have an injury. A twisted knee during an off road run has left it swollen and quite painful. Aspirin and icing has helped but a guy from a Facebook group suggested some light cycling so off I trundled. I set off steadily. Although my commute to work bike has skinny tyres, I haven’t ridden a bike with drop handlebars in donkey’s years and this felt a lot different. I peddled cautiously through town and Highbridge towards East Huntspill. I was glad to get out to the countryside, fewer cars and better scenery. I cycled over Basin Bridge and through neighbouring village Mark and the sky started to turn a little darker. I felt I should turn back to home but to be honest I was really enjoying the ride and could have gone on forever. Some of my more proficient cycling buddies would make light of my adventure but I was proud and hooked and next time I will join the cake and coffee brigade while I contemplate my first duathlon, or even triathlon.

Club Tropicana

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Let me take you to the place
Where membership’s a smiling face
Brush shoulders with the stars
Where strangers take you by the hand
And welcome you to wonderland
From beneath their panamas

Running club life can be like that but it’s no longer for me. Sadly Sunday will be my last race as an Almost Athlete. I feel that I have no benefits from being an affiliated athlete to England Athletics or to any club and the measly £2 discount on race levy makes no difference to me as I won’t race enough in a year for any benefit. The support I don’t receive is the final nail in the coffin. I think maybe after Burnham on Sea Harriers throwing me under the bus has made me bitter about people. Also, I much prefer to run alone. I run when, where and what I want and I like that freedom and it suits my mental health and wellbeing. I am equally happy and unhappy in my own skin and that suits me fine. Here’s to unaffiliation.

This year’s Swansea Half Marathon is my third and I really like the run and course but it has always thrown up problems in the past. 2022 I booked accommodation, cheap I thought, but was at student digs and the room was totally unacceptable as it was filled with rubbish and no bedding. At the eleventh hour I managed to find an alternative. Last year was the year of train strikes and there was a bus replacement service between Bristol and Cardiff and our return journey all the trains were cancelled which meant we had to stay an extra night and I missed work on Monday. This time it has to be smooth because I can’t deal with it.

Train arrived, change at Cardiff and no problem. Hotel no problem. Recced the start no problem. Evening carb loading meal no problem. That was when the first problem occurred. I went to my son’s local pub when he lived in Swansea and watched Australia vs. England in the T20 World Cup. England batted poorly and after a wash out in their first match vs. Scotland suddenly need results to go their way to qualify for the ‘Super 8s’.

Sunny, smiley start

Sunday and race day. Why, oh why, do I put myself through this? I hate it. I hate the hanging around and the waiting to start. I hate all the people around me chatting. I hope that everything during the race will be fine. Since I had bowel cancer certain malfunctions can happen and I need to take medication to ensure these malfunctions don’t happen, if you know what I mean 💩.

I started cautiously. I felt quite light headed and dizzy so I just wanted to ease myself into the race and take it from there. The first 6 miles heads out towards the university and back for a loop in the city and back out towards The Mumbles. I found myself with the 1 hour 50 minutes group but after 8 miles I was sick and tired of the elbowing and nearly being tripped up so I kicked a little to get in front of them. Running etiquette isn’t what it was! Suddenly instead of running 8.18 mins per mile I was running 8.05 and getting quicker and along the seafront which is my favourite part of the race.

I was pulling away from 1 hour 50 mins group and others in front of me and tiring and I kicked more. Never leave it out on the run, always give it your best shot. A runner at Tewkesbury Running Club always said if I overtake in the second of the race you won’t see me until the finish. Negative splints I specialised in. Get into the race and go through the gears. I crossed the finish line in 1 hour 47 minutes and 34 seconds my best time for a half in over 4 years and not too shabby for a Vet 60 after cancer and I was quite pleased with my morning’s work.

Proud finisher. Now for a beer. Do you like my shorts?

Park Life

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Parklife (parklife)
It’s got nothing to do with your “Vorsprung durch Technik”, you know
Parklife (Parklife)
And it’s not about you joggers who go round and round and round and round (parklife)

Blur

 Damon Albarn, Graham Leslie Coxon, Alexander Rowntree David, Alexander James Steven.

Chris Brasher had a double vision, to make the London Marathon as big as the New York version and to improve the the standard of British distance running. The London Marathon is, certainly in my experience, one of the greatest races I’ve raced. The runner is treated liked a proper, professional entrant from picking up their running bib from the exhibition hall to the journey home. Runners are only a maximum of half a mile from medical assistance as Red Cross volunteers are at every mile. Water, energy drinks and assistance are also available at every mile. I always loved the training and the excitement of being part of something really big.

The London Marathon has no equal and is better than any of the other World Marathon Majors but really where are we now? The number of hopeful entrants has increased beyond belief, the major charities are doing nicely, and the course is flat and generally downhill. There seems to be an anomaly. Decent club runners rarely get in the lotto and good for age has a similar problem through a ballot. I was lucky or good enough as I always qualified for Good for my age but I believe that good club runners should get an opportunity to run. Many are turning to other marathons, such as Manchester, or run abroad.

Applications have closed for the 2025 London Marathon and a massive 840,000 have put their names forward into a bloody large hat. That’s 43% up on last year’s record application list. This must be due to the increasing popularity of parkrun. Dear old Chris Brasher must be turning in his grave. Although I think parkrun is a great incentive for people to exercise as this eases the burdens on the NHS in so many ways but marathon running is a sport for serious athletes and 300 park runs and a 10km race do not make a a potential marathoner. I really think that the London Marathon should go the same way as the Boston Marathon and introduce qualifying times. Not necessarily for the full marathon but certainly for the half as a guide to each entrant’s ability. I was a good club creakyter but would never get selected for England so why should a park runner get a London place without running more than a couple of 10 kms and 200 park runs.

Am I a running snob? Yes, probably, but I want the best from our nation to give our best athletes the best chance to show how good they are.

Earn the right

Always Crashing in the Same Car

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Every chance, every chance that I take
I take it on the road
Those kilometers and the red lights
I was always looking left and right
Oh, but I’m
Always crashing in the same car

David Bowie

Newport Half Marathon Rhan Dau (Part Two)

The Newport Marathon is a hugely popular event with a 10km race and children’s races. This year, with famous Welsh road runner Steve Brace as Race Director, the route was changed and a half marathon was included to make it a genuine festival of running. As the half marathon course was totally different to the Admiral Half Marathon course in March, I thought it was worth a go and a perfect excuse to see my son Elliot who went to university in Newport and now lives there. I had entered quite late and, with so many races going ahead, accommodation was hard to find but I managed to find somewhere and with a good price.

Race weekend arrived and Sue and me walked to the station to board our train, which of course was delayed. The train was rammed as usual for a Saturday. It was full of Hen parties, Stag parties, shoppers for Bristol and Cardiff and, as Bristol City were at home, football fans. The Guard beckoned us towards her to board the train to avoid further delays and we ended up in First Class. I’ve known from experience that Guards allow passengers into First Class until seats become available and we did have reserved seats. The same Guard came to check our tickets and told us we had to move to Standard Class. The Guard was quite surly and I tried to explain we would move at Weston-Super-Mare when seats may be free. Really railway staff do need to have customer service training!

We arrived at Newport on time thanks to a reduced wait at Bristol Temple Meads. Elliot had been messaging me during his break and hadn’t heard of our hotel. This sent alarm bells. Would we have to return back home? We disembarked the train and I decided the first thing we should do is try and seek out our hotel. We headed out towards Newport High Street where our hotel was to be found and it wasn’t to be found. I asked a local bar owner if he had heard of it and he hadn’t. He tried to find it on his mobile phone but with no success. I thought maybe that the venue was down a side street, so I enquired at another pub but the bar maid had never heard of it. I then bumped into a postman. If a local publican doesn’t know where it is, surely a postman would. No. The address was 62 High Street and the High Street went as far as 55 🤬. Elliot had now finished his shift so it was time for lunch at Drago Lounge and a perfect burger. There I phoned the establishment and found out it was a hotel that we had stayed at before but had been taken over. Why they couldn’t say the Black Iris previously known as the Silurian is totally beyond me but we were happy to have somewhere to stay.

Evening drinks were at Ye Olde Murenger House. The oldest pub in Newport. This pub was about 20 yards from our hotel and in the middle of Newport’s pub world. Maybe 6 or 7 pubs or bars in about a quarter of a mile. Perfect for a quiet pint or several. No televisions, no blaring music, and no kids with fake IDs

Race morning and my usual nerves. Since my bowel cancer I am so nervous and aware of taking medication to hopefully get around the course without ‘incidents’. We meet up with Elliot and walk the half mile or so to the start outside his former university campus. Eventually 9 o’clock comes round and we set off. The marathoners and half marathoners first and then followed 45 minutes later by the 10km runners. The first mile is a loop of the city and back through the start and outwards. Nerves and uncertainty caused me to feel quite nauseous and after about half a mile I needed to be sick. ‘Crikey’ I thought. I’m never going to do this. I decided if I saw Sue and Elliot at the campus, I’d quit. But, I didn’t. So carried on and if needs be I’ll be carried home in the ‘broom wagon’. The race headed out over the bridge and through the Newport Stadium concourse, the former home ground of Newport County AFC. I was feeling better and was getting into my work. The miles ticked by on the flat course along traffic free country roads. The weather was fine and I started to enjoy the run. At about 12 miles the half marathon merged with the slower 10km runners and this presented problems. Slower runners tend to run in social packs so cutting through them meant meandering from side to side. Back over the bridge and the finish in sight. Finished in 1.49:12, excluding puking time and I’m happy.

Medal and bleeding nipples 😨

Lunch at Wagamama and celebratory drinks at Wetherspoons whilst waiting for our train home!

This blog is dedicated to Brenda Bayliss, my wife’s aunt, who unfortunately died of cancer this week.

Match of the Day

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There’s the Reds and there’s the Greens
Super slicks and has beens
They’re accompanied by three men dressed in black
One’s a whistle, two are flags
Quite often they’re the drags
Kick the ball into the goal, they put it back


Yes Match of the Day’s the only way
To spend your Saturday

Genesis, from the Spot The Pigeon EP 1977

A bit of a change from the running blogs.

1970 World Cup Finals, Guadalajara, Mexico 7th June, 1970, England 0 v Brazil 1, The England team line up before the Group Three match, They are L-R: Martin Peters, Geoff Hurst, Brian Labone, Terry Cooper, Gordon Banks, Alan Mullery, Francis lee, Alan Ball, Tommy Wright, Bobby Charlton and captain Bobby Moore (Photo by Rolls Press/Popperfoto via Getty Images/Getty Images)

I was on my constitutional walk this evening and I started to think about my career in football. As a young boy I was football crazy. I played football alone in the back garden. My Dad was livid because I turned it into a ploughed field. I just couldn’t live without a football. I think it started with Manchester United beating Benfica to win their first European Cup 4:2 at Wembley. I was far too young to watch the game but I knew of United’s history after the plane crash in 1958 and all the reports seem so romantic. Charlton, Best and Law were the Holy Trinity for me. My next memories are of the 1970 World Cup Finals in Mexico. England were a better team than the 1966 winning team and were hot favourites but with Bobby Moore arrested and charged with stealing jewellery and Gordon Banks getting food poisoning before the crucial quarter final against West Germany that hope was extinguished. March 1971 and 7 years old I was considered mature enough to stay up late on a Saturday night to watch Match of the Day. The that first match I watched was the quarter final tie of the FA Cup between Everton and Colchester United which Everton won 5:0. I was hooked and followed the Cup to final day when Arsenal beat Liverpool 2:1 with a stunner from Arsenal’s Charlie George. The following season gave us the immortal Hereford United victory versus Newcastle United.

The iconic moment when Ronnie Radford scores against Newcastle Utd

Every play time at Primary School was spent kicking a tennis ball, or whatever we could find, around the playground. With games in a small space, close control dribbling was the key to success. Jumpers for goalposts and, even if you were 10 goals down, it was always next goal wins. Teacher blows the whistle and back to study. After school football matches sprung up over the local park and we’d play until darkness fell. Playing those games were against lads 2, 3, 4 years older me so I had to learn and adapt. In the summer playing cricket was the same so I learned the ability to leave what I didn’t need to play and score big with my signature shots. Always mature beyond my years and thinking about my game. 1974 and comprehensive school. The PE teachers wanted the school to be a rugby playing school which horrified me. The school wanted to compete against the grammar and private schools in Cheltenham and Gloucester. Being quick footed and good hands rugby came quite naturally to me but that doesn’t mean I liked it. My year had many good footballers which was proved when the first team won the County Cup in 1978-79. I was never deemed good enough but played for the ‘B’ team but by then cricket was my chosen sport.

I left school in 1979 still playing cricket but around 1981 I felt the desire to return to playing football after a couple of friends insisted I played for a newly formed Sunday morning team. I did and strangely enjoyed it. During my younger days I would watch the local team, Tewkesbury YMCA, play on Saturdays got to know the names of some of the players. As a teenager I got to play cricket with some of them and then I was invited to play football with Tewkesbury YMCA. This was like a scouse lad playing for Liverpool. How could I turn this chance down. My debut was for the second team against Colwall. I knew Colwall, near Malvern, as I had played cricket many times against them. In fact the goalkeeper was their major fast bowler. I was a tough game on a muddy pitch which we lost 2:1 but at least I scored the one. A corner that was cleared and the opposition rushed out to get attackers offside so I coolly received the ball on the right, chipped over the advancing defenders and chipped over that fast bowling goalkeeper into the net. See you in the summer, chummy.

I played mostly in the second team but had a few games in the first team and I remember the game where I impacted the most. I don’t remember who it was against but it was away. Martin Goodwin came up to me before the start and said look out for the left winger and hit him hard early. Well, that’s just not the way I played. Early in the game this left winger made a run. I was doing my job, keeping him wide with no chance to cut inside or cross but Goodwin flies in and catches him just below his knee and gets booked. The left winger was substituted soon after as he didn’t have the fight. My moment came soon after and similar to my debut goal a corner was defended and the ball was cleared to me on the right. The defenders were coming out to leave attacking players offside. I delayed and waited for Tony ‘Nobby’ Neather , sadly no longer with us, to advance from midfield. I crossed the ball which hit him plum on the head and into the net. Without his glasses Nobby was virtually blind so this was a miracle.

Soon after I started to lose interest in football. In reality I just wanted to play football and stop others playing by using my skill and ability. The start of the Premiership and the obscene money involved, the reactions of players who merely get touched, diving, simulation just makes me mad. I follow Charlton Athletic, a top community club, Portsmouth, my Dad’s team for the same reason, and Newport County my son’s team. These lower league teams reignite the fire and gives reason to follow your local team so follow them.

London Calling

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London calling to the faraway towns
Now war is declared and battle comes down
London calling to the underworld
Come out of the cupboard, you boys and girls

The Clash

I can’t believe that this seminal album will be 45 years old this year

March and British Summer Time commences giving us all a well needed extra hour in bed on Sunday morning. Also, the promise of lighter evenings and warmer weather stir our hearts and give us all a massive boost after the cold, rainy, windy, dark days of Winter. Runners and cyclists can save their lights and hi viz for the darker Autumn evenings and be ‘safer’ to practice and follow their dreams. Most runners dream is to participate in the London Marathon and March always evokes many memories of my London training. I was very fortunate as I ran 8 times, 7 as Good For Your Age.

I always used to run 12 miles every Sunday if I wasn’t racing but for London training I would extend this to 15-18 miles during January and February. The first Sunday in March was the Gloucester 20 race and that was my first 20 mile run. I read a book by Richard Nerurkar, a top British distance runner, and he states that if your 5 longest runs total over 100 miles, you are ready for a marathon. This was a mantra I followed and it stood me well. Nerurkar’s last race was Bath Half Marathon in 2000 and was a DNF so I beat him and my time was my half pb at 1 hour 15 minutes .

I met him at a London Marathon exhibition and he signed my book

So I felt March was an important month for marathon training. I always felt like the leash is off, Kiddo, do your thing. You can sneak a daylight run after work and the weather is getting warmer. Maybe you’ve got your race day shoes and kit and trying them out. If your running for a charity life is a little tougher. Combining training and raising money for a good concern is hard work. Friends and family are fed up with being asked for donations and as March training intensifies and has to rise to the the marathon finishing level. This is a really great month though. You’re fitness and running ability has risen to a new level plus confidence and a feel good factor to make you feel invincible. Injuries can still occur and illnesses, bloody hell illnesses. Avoid anybody with a cough or even a sniffle. March training always made me feel like a pro, a proper athlete. Making sure you get enough sleep and rest, making sure you eat the right things, making sure you keep up the training intensity. Crikey, family life takes a hit. Disrupted meals and not being at home when children go to bed. Horrible, but necessary sacrifices for our marathon hero.

March may also be the month when the sheer sameness of training and the extending of the long runs can feel like drudgery and like a boring day at work. Well mix it up. Weekend long runs are still important and have to be maintained but shorter efforts at a faster pace will pay dividends. The long runs will give you the stamina but the shorter fast runs will make you more able to cruise at a faster pace. The lighter evenings after the clocks go forward may allow a runner to run off road a little more and running on differing surfaces can be very advantageous. Add a few hill efforts will be useful. The London Marathon is basically a point to point flat run so those hill efforts are extra speed work in disguise.

My last London Marathon in 2008. I loved those shoes.

Finally, keep your powder dry, run at your pace, and enjoy it.