Stand by REM from the LP Green

Am I seeing things clearly now or obscured by clouds?

City of Newport Half Marathon gave me the opportunity to visit my son, Elliot, and have a race. Of course, the primary reason was to see Elliot and have a good time and treat him as best parents can. Our weekend visit coincided with Bristol Rovers visit to Newport County a top of the table clash and local rivalry. Police were everywhere and even Wetherspoons asked for proof that you were a Newport resident or no entry. The same Wetherspoons that would serve Jager bombs at 10.00am if required!

My wife, Sue, and myself arrived by train at Newport at around lunchtime and we were met by Elliott at the station. We went to a franchised eatery that is relieved when it’s nearly the weekend, TGIF. Eating lunch whilst being entertained by the Police escorting football fans over the foot bridge to Rodney Parade to watch the game. We obtained a Guinness rugby shirt in Torremolinos which Sue gave to Elliot but she lost a thong in the process. Later we spent some time evaluating the 2022 version of the mating game in a local hostelry. Four guys, three girls. Lots of playmaking. Two girls go to the toilet and Elliot and me tell Sue to follow. One of the girls is puking her shots up. Is this a modern age version of the Roman orgies? I’m glad I’m not in the game anymore.

We bid our good nights to Elliot and returned to our hotel for an early night to prepare for the race. Unbeknown to us the hotel is also a nightclub and has a house band that plays until 2 o’clock in the morning. Fat chance of a good night’s sleep.

Alarm goes off at 7.00am and the anxiety that’s been biting hard is really hitting. I ask myself why do I put myself through something that discomforts me so? I put on my racing kit, Elliot arrives and we head to the start line.

It was cold, grey and dreary at the start line and I questioned, again, my reasoning for running. I had feeling a lot of anxiety over the weekend and was doubting myself to even start. My last race had been in Spain and warm but this was Wales in March and definitely cooler. In my previous life I would wear a vest but now I needed a Helly Hansen under shirt and gloves and a blanket.

I took my place in the 2 hour finish bay as this was what I was expecting after my most recent halfs in Weston-Super-Mare and Torremolinos. Sue and Elliott were watching and I didn’t want to let them down but frankly not to run, a fry up and a mug of coffee seemed a better option.

An efficient orderly start meant I only had about 30 seconds until I crossed the starting line. It was cold but moving soon warmed me up. I was aware from my brother-in-law, who comes from South Wales, that Spring was always a couple of weeks later in the principality so I should have known better. I quickly realised that many runners were following the 2 hour mark and it was difficult to get a reasonable running stride without clipping heels and hard to get pass and in front of the crowd. I burst through and intended to run my own race whatever and fail or succeed by my own efforts.

I pushed on through the city and northerly to Caerleon where the race took a turn. Surprisingly for a city half marathon, the race followed some interesting narrow trails and a huge pig was watching us runners probably wondering what the flippin’ heck was going on. We swept down back into Newport, past where my son lives, over the river Usk and to the finish at the university buildings to receive our medal and finishers tee shirt. My watch time was 1 hour 50 minutes so quite a success and a real fun weekend. Great event which I would do again.

We all had a celebratory meal at Wagamamas. I was pleased with my finishing time but really it was all about spending some time with my son. He later told me that he was proud of my running and I cried. It’s not always about personal bests and negative splits. Sometimes it’s that personal touch, the feeling to feel proud and have others feel proud for you.

Off for some R n R in the sun. The last 3, 6, 9, 12 months for me have been horrific. Okay, last February the Tampa Bay Bucs won the Superbowl. Charlton are still plucky losers and as for English cricket, blah. Sport is my passion but at my time of life nobody wants an old git who farts every time he bends over and can’t pick up anything without getting on all fours. It’s a struggle to put on socks every day. I don’t put this down to my age but a lifetime of devotion to playing sport. Not going to the bookies, or rocking up at stadium to watch, or channel hopping on the T.V but actually going out to participate and getting muddy, sweaty, bloody, hurt and heartbroken, when after all that, we/I have still lost. Personally for me it’s been crap but that’s not for this blog. What I needed was a chance to get away, recharge the batteries of my soul and re-evaluate my thinking going forward.

My opportunity to drink Pina Coladas and escape came last November 2021 when Rachael Nolan, from Almost Athletes in Cheltenham, posted on Facebook group I follow that Torremolinos Half Marathon places were up for grabs. Wow, I couldn’t believe it. A warm run in the sun in February. I’ve known Rachael through Sue who used to work with her and always get to see her at races in Gloucestershire. With Covid-19 ruining peoples lives for so long, this was too good an opportunity to miss and I wasn’t going to. Just a couple of days after I entered, booked a hotel and flights, Omicron burst into action and threatened to burst my happy balloon. Although clearly a bad variant it wasn’t as bad as the previous variants and mostly affected those who hadn’t been vaccinated. Fingers crossed it was still game on.

I had just over 2 months of training to get into race shape with the Christmas/New Year break included. Unfortunately this didn’t work as I had hoped. A reluctance to go out for long runs without a run buddy and a nasty cold over New Year messed with my projection and, to be honest, the cold weather wasn’t good for my lungs. I settled for a steadily increasing block of mileage and a couple of 11 plus runs to give me the confidence of getting round. Using my experience, I knew this wasn’t ideal but would be enough. I would use this as the break I desperately needed and a springboard to a later May half where hopefully I will be in better condition.

During the pandemic every country had their own different way of allowing travellers to gain entry. With Spain, I needed to fill out a Health Control Form. After all the name, address, email, flight number and seat number, and multiple of other questions I had to offer proof of vaccinations. This would put me in a place Novak Djokovic wouldn’t be, a foreign country.

We flew out early Friday morning so we stayed at a B and B near the airport. Near the airport……It was a 1.5 mile trek in the dark along a busy, unlit road. I honestly thought my time was up but managed to make it to our lodgings. The proprietor said that there was an emergency road which we could access which would have avoided the busy, dark road and was only half a mile. Cheers.

We took off and left cold and wintery England at 6.20am and touchdown in Malaga two and a half hours later. A quick taxi ride and I could finally start to unwind. The stress pains in my neck, shoulders  and the back of my head began to unknot. As I was checking in several Almost Athletes, the club I would be running with as my second claim club, came up to introduce themselves. They were off for a jolly in Malaga. Sue and myself dropped off our gear, changed and went out to explore and have some lunch. We later met up with the Almosts at an Italian restaurant and were immediately made to feel welcome. Afterwards a visit to an Irish bar to drink Guinness to the demise of any realistic trophy expectations of Manchester United, who were beaten by Middlesbrough in the Cup . It was nearly 2.00am when we arrived back at the hotel. A long day.

Next day, Saturday, some Almosts were having their own parkrun  but today was registration day. This was held at a shopping mall about 3 miles away. We took the train. I presented proof of entry and my passport and they gave me my number and a gym bag with my tee shirt and a lightweight fleece and for 15 Euros. We walked back and a quieter remainder of the day in preparation for the race.

Sunday and race day. I’m always nervous when racing and especially abroad. Uncertain of the food and not drinking enough water but this was my first race post cancer on foreign soil and that had more issues. Previously mentioned, my training had been poor. I was hoping for sub 1.50 but sub 2.00 was more realistic. This was to be an ass kick to train for a later half like Tewkesbury in May. I never eat breakfast before a morning race/run but this morning I ate a croissant just to steady my nerves. The start was at the Municipal Stadium, the old Bull Ring, about 1.5 miles away and we walked.

At the start, runners were milling about like they always do everywhere. Nervously chatting away, some stretching and warming  up on the track. I said my goodbyes and good lucks and joined the runners to get away. I spoke with a guy from Worcester who insisted on telling me all about his foreign races. It was his way of settling down, I just wanted to be quiet. I thought it strange that he wore a Christmas technical tee shirt with a Robin pictured on his chest. I had read the evening before that 20% of the athletes are foreigners and there were plenty of British for sure.

The first 4 miles or so were downhill and towards the esplanade. These miles felt good. Trying to hold back a little as it was early into the race and there was a climb back up to the finish. At 9.30am local time, it was busy. Shops were open and locals were out buying groceries but still cruising well. We then hit the esplanade and then 5 miles of flat. I passed my hotel and heard the screams of support from the Almost Athletes supporters. Sue even joined me for a few metres but this was 9km not even halfway and I didn’t want to get carried away. I stuck to my boring game plan, Steady as She Goes. Now for the last 4+miles. Easy, parkrun and a bit. By now the lack of training was beginning to show and this added to the February Mediterranean heat, not the same as English (sic), and the section of climbing to the Bull Ring was starting to become prominent. The last meandering miles were tough as I’d done no hill training for months. I noticed before I re entered the stadium that I had already covered the 13.1 miles necessary for a half marathon but the run to the finish was spectacular as the non running Almost Athletes were there to cheer home their own. It was wonderful to see them and finish. I picked up my medal and goody bag, which consisted of vegetable soup, after a half marathon 🤢, and made my way back to support other runners finishing.

The vibes there were terrific as we applauded every finisher and when Ollie Nolan, the last AA, finished any roof would have been lifted by the cheers. A brisk walk back to the centre for drinks at Casa de Sherlock Holmes. That first beer could have come from Bacchus himself, in all his forms, as it tasted liked nectar from the Gods.

The truthful answer is that I wasn’t at all thinking about home whilst abroad. In fact it was the complete opposite. I wanted to stay where it was warmer. The race organisation was perfect and the Spanish have covid-19 licked by insisting on mask wearing and proof of vaccinations. Back in England Johnson wanders from scandal to scandal without anything sticking and people are leaving where I work without being replaced. I can’t control these things so I won’t. I’ll just sit in the corner, sipping on my Pina Colada 🍹

 

If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?
For I must be traveling on now
‘Cause there’s too many places I’ve got to see

Six years ago I was lying in a bed in Musgrove Park Hospital, Taunton wondering what my future was. I had had a cancerous tumour removed from me, along with a section of bowel and part of my rectum. I had tubes coming into and out of everywhere, and I mean everywhere. The canulla in the back of hand was the very worst. Every movement pulled and irritated. My hand was sore, bruised and swollen. Over the four weeks I was in hospital, the nurses tried both hands and were considering where else to put them.

One of the Sisters was a keen runner and I would ask her daily about her runs. The nurses all worked so hard I found it impossible that they could find time for a hobby. Running is more than a hobby though. It’s me time. Time for quiet contemplation. Time for me to with likewise people and chat your woes away. Oh, and it’s also exercise!

This Sister was just what I needed, a Godsend. Her stories of her runs were an insight into the world I wanted to return to and I looked forward to her rounds to hear of her runs but I felt my future running was well away especially as any future for me was far away.

Forward six years to the present. I’m running. It’s a fabulous experience. All those wonderful feelings are coming back. The anxieties of running with other runners, of racing and feelings of being in such company. But most of all, how would my fellow club runners receive me on my return? Sadly, the NHS don’t provide guidance after care. You just seem to be thrown out and without actually saying it ‘get over it’. I was lost to the system for a year and then they asked me why? I don’t blame the nurses but the administration who have to ask questions about themselves and sadly I’m not the the exception.

Running this week was a prime example to my particular problems of running after bowel cancer. To dash into the sand dunes and bushes to defaecate 4 times during a 5 mile run is not normal. It’s embarrassing, depressing and soul destroying. After 6 years it feels there is no possible improvement. I’ve got by in half marathons but can I really run a marathon again? Sometimes I wish my previous pre cancer life was my legacy but it seems I must carry on.

Running another marathon is on my wish list. Christ, I know I will not be as fast as I was but I need to prove to myself and other cancer survivors that there is a life afterwards. It represents one last great effort if only to myself. So I registered my interest in the Brighton Marathon. I’ve ran London plenty of times so I figured let others run that. After all I’m looking for a difference, a fresh marathon to start my holistic rehabilation into distant running although a trail marathon would have been ideal and could still be an option.

The London Marathon was a vision of Chris Brasher, a pacemaker for Roger Bannister’s historic first 4 minute mile, to equal the New York Marathon and improve the standard of marathon and long distance running in the UK. Sorry to say this but now it’s become a freak show for charity runners and it’s charity sponsorship over quality.

I’ve booked myself onto an England Athletics coaches course. Normally the adage is never change unless something is broken but sometimes things need bringing a fresh outlook, a different voice or face or point of view. Tracey Thomas will join me and she has so much enthusiasm for her potential role as a coach. I hope we can provide what our runners need. I’m also working on a Couch to 5k programme to commence in the New Year.

I realise I’m now very cynical probably an age thing maybe but running has to to be open to all and not just for the elite or the park runners. Many good quality club runners have no chance in running the London Marathon for instance and that race is considered the Golden Egg of races.

Park run performs a great purpose in introducing runners and walkers into regular exercise but what about the next step, that’s not really thought about and running clubs have the duty to provide the link. As club captain, I’ve looked into this and no advice is given from England Athletics. It is two seperate enerties it seems.

The onus is forced back onto the club and their coaches and run leaders to try and bridge any gap. This causes a great problem to provide the right progress route for all. Okay there’s no park runs at the moment but our club has been flooded with people wanting to step up this last 12 months and adequate help hasn’t been available.

Who remembers those selection packs that an auntie or some distant relative would give you for Christmas as a cop out pressie? In my my day it would consist of Spangles a fruit boiled sweet, Marathon a runner’s based chocolate bar and would soon be Snickers, Mars an intergalactic confectionery, and a finger of Fudge. The packaging might include a dice based game that was never played.

I don’t really embrace Christmas. It’s a time for families to get together and celebrate but not for me as my family, what’s left, is spread far and wide. Don’t feel sorry for me as I’m used to spending Christmas that way. I would love to spend Christmas with my family but that’s the way the dice always rolls. Boris always move the goalposts but why should we take heed of him and his ship of fools.

I always thought my family was here with the Harriers but it’s clearly not the case as I’m not sure where I am and who I can trust. There have been some improvements. Matt and Alex have made great improvements with the speed sessions and the the regular runs are extending to 5 miles but not nearly enough as I believe 10k to be the minimum. Back at Tewkesbury, 8 miles was minimum for a club run. I am a second claim member at a club in Cheltenham and they have differing sessions every night. Ok, they are a bigger club but Burnham don’t really offer enough to new runners and I’m sure more can be done to attract new runners from other clubs and park run.

But I’m not captain anymore. I don’t need to think about club runs unless run leaders can’t be bothered and something must be set up and I must be a good club member. Why I should care is beyond me as some of the run leaders can’t be asked. I think I worked hard as club captain without any support from the committee who requested me to resign over a lack of confidence. Fancy asking someone to resign about lack of confidence with someone with no self confidence.

So in short, shit year…again and please embrace me into the club again. I’m not entirely sure how I was left out.

A most satisfying 5km. Joe’s Santa Run and it gave me immense satisfaction to run a fun run and raise money for charity.

Look out for the New Year blog.

For each a road
For everyman a religion
Find everybody and rule
For everything and rumble
Forget everything and remember
For everything a reason
Forgive everybody and remember

• 

Today was the Weston Super Half Marathon and my longest run since suffering from Covid-19. My breathing has been wheezy but I’ve been improving week on week. I’ve settled into a specific training regime of frequent runs with a chest strap transmitter and keeping the majority of my runs at a heart rate of between 120-130 with the occasional faster effort. I have been using my old Polar chest strap heart rate monitor as my Garmin Forerunner 235 uses the pulse, which is inaccurate. Today, I figured it was the right time to test my method after having missed a couple of races recently and these days racing isn’t cheap.

I was confident of my approach as my training had been a solid block with improvement on breathing and heart rate. I had ran twice over 10 miles and many times over 10 kilometers. My main disappointment was there had not been any racing opportunities since my last way back in May and August and had been running very well, I think. I admit I was jealous of others who had been racing in recent weeks and I was positive that I was running a long test run but needed that ‘buzz’. I needed to keep this a secret to my closest friends as I was sure they would not approve and talk me out of running although I knew this was an important run for me. This was literally make or break as I could feel I was running into retirement.

I was grateful for Tracey Thomas for giving myself and Sue, Madame Pompomadour, a lift to the race. Tracey had been running well recently completing Mendip Muddle the previous week and a successful Mixed Relay win a couple of weeks before. Many Harriers had rocked up for the race including Jonathan Williams on his birthday. If ever he deserved breakfast in bed it was today.

That’s the prologue done and dusted, now for the run. I was a liitle uncertain where to line up so I chose a few yards/metres behind 2.00 hour finsh pace maker. The race started at 10.15, a strange time, and we did a 2 mile loop before heading across the beach and towards Uphill and Bleadon. My heart rate spiked a little running across the sand but I was soon able to control this. I was unpertubed by the runners overtaking me as I was determined to stick to my race plan. We meanered out onto the main road and back along the Uphill cycle route back onto the beach where Alex Hamilton caught up with me. He was running cautiously as he had turned his ankle playing football. A quick chat and snap and he was gone.

After running across the sand a second time I couldn’t get my heart rate back between my parameters so I gave it a go.I was feeling great. Breathing was good and no sign of fatigue. The race now passes the pier and out onto the Kewstoke Road to a point where you turn and come back into Weston. Here you can see faster runner on the left and where I could offer encouragement to other Harriers. Going out is up hill so coming back is downhill. My 13th mile was at 8.01 was my fastest so my tactics were good. We finished on the pier. I, maybe, could have gone faster but I ticked the boxes I wanted and was pleased with my run.

Madame Pompomadour managed to pick a fight with some anti vaccination protesters. She was called a Nazi but she asked if any of them had received a flu jab and the binary answer was reluctant. Hypocrites.

Many thanks to Hannah Tucker and Madame Pompomadour for your cheering and support. It really means so much.

Thanks, Ian Brown. For Everythig A Reason.

Songwriters: Hook Peter, Morris Stephen Paul David, Sumner Bernard, Hague Stephen Eric, Gilbert Gillian Lesley

I feel so extraordinary
Something’s got a hold on me
I get this feeling I’m in motion
A sudden sense of liberty
I don’t care ’cause I’m not there
And I don’t care if I’m here tomorrow
Again and again I’ve taken too much
Of the things that cost you too much

I used to think that the day would never come
I’d see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun

When I was a very small boy
Very small boys talked to me
Now that we’ve grown up together
They’re afraid of what they see
That’s the price that we all pay
Our valued destiny comes to nothing
I can’t tell you where we’re going
I guess there was just no way of knowing

I used to think that the day would never come
I’d see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun

I feel so extraordinary
Something’s got a hold on me
I get this feeling I’m in motion
A sudden sense of liberty
The chances are we’ve gone too far
You took my time and you took my money
Now I fear you’ve left me standing
In a world that’s so demanding

I used to think that the day would never come
I’d see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun

I used to think that the day would never come
I’d see delight in the shade of the morning sun
My morning sun is the drug that brings me near
To the childhood I lost, replaced by fear
I used to think that the day would never come
That my life would depend on the morning sun

Work it, make it, do it, makes us

How can you run faster? By running faster? It’s not necessarily so.

I was started running by jogging and walking and was soon up to an hour of constant jogging. I played cricket so I wasn’t completely unfit. I entered the local half and finished just outside 92 minutes. My wife, Sue, worked with a more serious runner and she invited me to join her and her husband on their regular Sunday long run. It was 12 miles long and I loved it and quickly realised that this particular run should be the basis of my weekly training routine.

This didn’t seem enough for me so I dipped my blistered feet into running club life. I’d finished with cricket, for the first time! I loved running and this was more than filling any void. My, now, running was all at a similar pace. Pleased with my improvement, every run was at the same pace. Not necessarily fast but the same. Almost race pace every time and thinking that was the way to improve.Then one February evening my running changed forever. I felt like I had suddenly been shot in the outside of my knee. From flying I was spiralling down to Earth in flames. Ilio Tibial Band Syndrome. I had a good running posture but I was running too much and at the same pace.

I was out of action for many months but this gave me time to think logically about my running. I needed a plan and it worked with some brilliance.

The Sunday long run had to stay. It’s the cornerstone of running. A regular long run of 10 miles or so gives the stamina to complete any distance up to the half marathon and is fantastic aerobic exerise. This type of physical activity increases the heartrate and promotes increased use of oxygen in order to improve the body condition.

Introduce some speedwork or hill training for anaerobic training, or short bursts of engery. Speedwork would be very basic. Modest fartlek, Swedish for speed play. I would run street lamp posts alternating sprint with jog recovery. Near where I lived there is a road of about 300-350 metres length of steepish climb. 5 or 6 reps of that at a hard pace was enough. I would run one of those sessions once a week. It doesn’t need to be a long session. Just enough to wake up those fast twitcher muscles and get you breathing heavy.

Second to the long run was the recovery run. Around 3-4 miles of slow jogging at at least 2 minutes a mile slower than race pace. This was the run to think of posture, form, relaxation, stride length and to flush any lactic acid build up away. This is when energy levels are high and glucose is broken down and converted to concentrations of lactic acid which the body can’t process quickly enough. This is the heavy leg feeling we get after a race or intense session.

• 

Simply put. Mix it up. Try different sessions each week until you find what works. Don’t run the same all the time. I’m no expert but I learnt quickly. I’ve not been injured since and my race times were okay. Embrace a slow recovery run.

Sincerest apologies to the late great Gerry Rafferty

Racing for many Burnham-on-Sea Harriers begins this weekend for the Not The Glastonbury Around The Tor 10km this Bank Holiday weekend. Due to Covid-19 and social distancing the ‘race’will be a 6.2 mile time trial in the nearby and less likely to be populated town of Street.

Because spectators are persona non grata and our resident Cheerleader, Madame PomPomadour, can’t attend. She is quite noisey so this will help those suffering from the usual Sunday morning hangover. Odd as you can fill half of Wembley Stadium or the whole of the Crucible for some snooker chukka but folks are prevented from standing, social distancing, to watch a running time trial. It’s fine as she has some decorating to do. She has some help from Carrie Symonds and I can’t wait to see the final outcome!

I think most of us have found in the last 12 months that sport without spectators, fans, those people with a vested interest, is shallow. Like crackers without cheese and like a bacon butty without brown sauce that most important component is missing. People who don’t even like sport appreciate somebody ‘having a go’, trying their best to do what they can in an event or race. Everybody has their own personal agendas be it to prove something to themselves, to accomplish a feat after an addiction, raise money for charity or to honour a loved one. Some, God forbid, just want to run fast and win but that’s cool also as sport must be inclusive to all. Most are anxious. Not sure if their training has been enough, not sure if they really fit in, not sure they should be there. You are the main part of the event. Fifteen years ago I could run a marathon in under 3 hours but someone who runs a marathon in 5 or more hours still covers the same distance, has the same experience of joy and pleasure and pain.

Well I think it’s fair to say I nervous, apprehensive, worried, scared, anxious, and yet delighted to be on a starting line again even if it was in groups of 20 and in one of 50 waves starting at 2 minutes intervals. I even took a Covid-19 test to prove I was negative and posed no threat to others.

My good buddy and vice captain of The Harriers, Tracey Thomas, kindly gave me a lift to the race and we spoke of club matters and the usual frivolous nonsense that nervous people talk about before a race. This was particularly odd as we hadn’t competed in over a year and over this period we had not pushed ourselves.

Walking to the start line we met up with other club mates as we would have normally 14 months ago and it felt weird to observe all the protocols like social distancing. As none of us had raced in well over a year none of us were really sure how the event would turn out. Race packs were sent out a few days before race day. This included a snood for masking, final instuctions and our bib number on which was printed our wave number and start time. We were all informed to enter a holding area, car park, which also served as a warm-up track 30 minutes before our start time where we would be called to the start in wave order and sent off on their way. I must admit that any fears I had were completely quashed and the organisers carried out this procedure with Germanic effiency.

At 10.22 am my wave were off and away. The nervous joking was over and the serious business of racing began. The only other Harrier in my wave was Lewis Perry and we set off together and within the first few hundred metres 6 or 8 runners sped off into the distance. I immediately thought I was definitely in the wrong place and time and I was no way prepared for this. I was also hoping that the subsquent waves wouldn’t swallow me up. Lewis and I carried on as best we could encouraging each other but trying not to waste too much energy or breath on chatting and we gradually got into race mode and rhythm.

The course was a quiet country road that had been closed to traffic and was out and back. At the 5 kilometre turn I felt strong so I kicked on. Only a park run to go 🤣 is normally the mantra but of course that is complete 💩. I could now see other runners on the other side of the road heading towards the turn and waving encouragement to my friends. Not wasting valuable oxygen by shouting. I passed a poor lady runner hobbling badly, her race had clearly been ran, and soon after the supporting cavalry in the shape of an ambulance was tearing up the middle of the road to assist her.

The kilometres passed quickly and I started overtaking some of those in my wave who got off to a fast start. Approaching the 400 metres to go sign and I felt sorry I was finishing as the whole event had been a hoot but some hadn’t even started their adventure. I stopped my watch but without my glasses I couldn’t really make out my time but I was well pleased with my effort.

Heading back to the holding area, after picking up my medal and bottle of water, we gathered to excitedly speak about our emotions of the morning. Each finishing Harrier was bekoned over to our corner that was Burnham-on-Sea to tell us of their own tales of joy, or woe.

All in all a fabulous morning and many thanks and congratulations to Mendip Athletics Club for staging a very successful event. It certainly was a rare treat to wear club colours again and to see others wearing theirs. Right, when’s the next race?

Come gather ’round people wherever you roam
And admit that the waters around you have grown
And accept it that soon you’ll be drenched to the bone
And if your breath to you is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’ or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times, they are a-changin’.

A good old classic rock lyric is always a good place to start.

The times they are a changin’. Good Ol’ Bob Dylan. He couldn’t have realised what a Nostradamus he would become. Popular culture is often a barometer of the public feeling and Bobby Dylan is is certainly up there. It is easy to fit their words into prophecies. The words of the prophet are written on a subway wall. A line from Spirit of Radio by Rush. It is so easy to pluck a line from a song and consider it divine intervention. It’s so easy to do that but it’s probably better coming from Bob Dylan than DJ Clucky Cucks and his Mighty Ducks or whatever passes for musical culture these days.

The reason for my rant; well, it’s our return to running, and running in groups. It seems groups of teenagers can hang around in groups of many yet official club runs are criticised. I am club captain of Burnham-on-Sea Harriers and am meticulous in arranging our runs into small groups of 6 maximun but, of course, this is not always possible. It depends on pace, on distance, on friendship within the group and availability to run and it can be a bloody headache.

So far things have gone okay. We’ve only had a couple of complaints, one joking the other more serious but outdoor running can’t really be more serious than queuing for fish and chips so why are we vilified so much. Public perception, media?

Exercise, activity, getting off your arse and doing something is great for our health but also our mental health. It provides a change of view, a different focus. Something to aim for and therefore achieve, a sense of self satisfaction and a release of our problems. Maybe to chat on a run with buddy can release all those demons that have been cooped up in your psyche. It really is great to talk.

Online help has never been greater. The choice is up to you. England Athletics affiliated clubs have Mental Health Champions who you can speak to with without judgement ot prejudice. Facebook groups like Runr or Team Jelly Babies are another alternative. Help is available if you’re too sensitive to reach out to people you know.

The point of this is that there is help available. Sometimes not professional but others have suffered liked you have and you’re not alone and they have some experience. Please reach out, they’ll always be someone to listen without judging. The stigma isn’t there as much. Regrettably more and more people are feeling the strain especially now, without meeting with family and friends during this horrible time.

The weather was unseasonally warm with a cloudless sky and endless sunshine. Charlton Athletic had lost to The Posh so what better reason to run than lift my spirits. This was a route a Run Leader colleague of mine, Tracey Thomas, had used a couple of weeks previous and I thought would be a perfect antidote to a day at work and release from those pressures for a club run of my own. During the weeks of spring and summer, I think it’s important to get away from the dusty roads that we trample over the dark days of winter and seek the trails. Another reason is to avoid the beach and Esplanade that is so busy always for a seaside town. Public perception is everything and mentioned before we must respect this.

Hopefully I’m going to participate in my first race in over a year next weekend and I’m not sure what to expect. One day this will all be a distant memory but let’s all reduce the mental health cost we will all have to pay. We have to be optimistic, we must look forward because the past has gone.

The future’s so bright, I have to wear shades 😎.

I come to you, so silent in the night
So stealthy, so animal quiet
I’ll be your saviour, steadfast and true
I’ll come to your emotional rescue
I’ll come to your emotional rescue

• 

In under 10 days our hell may be over. The roll out of vaccinations and increased testing of Covid-19 may help us feel a little safer and secure but we have all been isolated from our friends and family, the people we truly love. The Harriers will again return to our club night runs. We will start with organising ourselves in small groups of 6 or 7. We could have groups of up to 12 but I think that is insensitive. Some runners will be happy and quite prepared to get out and run with friends in a group again but some may feel not so.

Some of our friends could feel an amount of anxiety. Hey, yeah, it’ll be really great to see my buddies again but am I safe? Will they be safe? Do they have signs of symptoms of Covid? Has everybody been vaccinated? Are they tested regularly?

Anxiety is a performance killer. It has destroyed many potential great athletes, business people, politicians, in fact anybody and everybody. Try not to let anxiety prevent you from coming to club runs or racing. I truly shudder when I type this as it’s such a massive obstacle with anyone who thinks too deeply or worries about things. I am a worrier. I get severely anxious and nervous. I’m not perfect or have the answers but I hope I can help. Here is a simple traffic light system to assess your feelings.

It comes down to how you feel and your thought process. If you can evaluate that, it could be a massive step in the right direction.

What is anxiety?
A feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease about something with an uncertain outcome. A nervous disorder marked by excessive uneasiness and apprehension, typically with compulsive behaviour or panic attacks.

Whatever words you use, it can be crippling and prevent the most tuned athlete from performing at their best. After a year of not racing and competing, without being with friends and family we will all feel some sort of anxiety when we can return together. A certain amount of anxiety can be good and help to give the edge when competing or performing a certain training session. An excessive amount can be obstructive to performance.

What techniques can we use to overcome anxiety? Anxiety typically affects our breathing rate as it is a defence to fight or flight tendencies. When anxious, our breathing becomes shallow and oxygen is not transported around the body as it should be. Deep breathing, or diaphragmatic breathing, can help regulate oxygenation around the body.

Other techniques can also be used such as Progressive Muscle Relaxation, PMR, where you tense and relax muscles in order. Podcasts are available to guide you in this process. I believe breathing is a good place to start.

Anxiety can start with thoughts but our thoughts can be can be controlled. Our first thought may be ‘I’m good enough’ but that comes with comparison and especially at the moment there can be no comparison to how you achieved last February/ March or to how our friends have been doing. It’s just a challenge to maintain our own fitness to level that we find acceptable and without races that’s difficult. So it’s vital, when we do return, to just concentrate on the social aspect. Enjoy the company of the friends that we all have missed. Chat and run and soon enough that edge, that pace, that competitiveness will return. And, it always helps to talk.