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.
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?
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.
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.
Well, this could be the last time This could be the last time Maybe the last time I don’t know Oh, no Oh, no
Rolling Stones
March and it’s time for one of my favourite races, Newport Half Marathon. It’s a favourite because I can combine visiting my son, Elliot, and a race of my favourite and, traditionally, my best distance. 5km isn’t worth getting out of bed for. Too short and too fast even though my personal best is 16.34. 10km again is shortish but my mind always wanders in the middle section and it’s a distance I’ve never really mastered. The half marathon, for me, is totally different. 13.1 miles is the sort of distance can make up the difference after a sluggish start especially given that these races have a huge participation and working your way through the field in the early miles can be tricky. I tend to run negative in my racing days. That means running the second half faster than the first. I’ve always been told if I pass you at halfway, I’ll beat you. In those days, I ran many times under 1 hour 20 minutes. Of course times change and my running now is so much different to my younger days.
Travelling by train is fraught with so many challenges and this was to be a fine example. Sue and myself managed to squeeze on board our carriage. Carriage according to an online dictionary states any of the separateparts of a train in which the passengerssit. That’s a laugh as we were held upright by Bristol City fans going to the early Championship kick off versus Cardiff City at Ashton Gate, Bristol. Thankfully, football fans are better behaved than the 1970s version and there was no sign of any trouble. The train manager was well aware of the fixture so why weren’t her superiors and put on another carriage? Even though we were all packed in like sardines, the atmosphere was quite jolly but I bet the return journey was not so as Bristol City lost 1 nil.
At Bristol Temple Meads the train lost many passengers and seats were to be found. I had reserved seats but on a crowded train I knew this it was pointless to challenge people. Bristol during the night/early morning had had a generous sprinkling of snow which had now turned to rain. The children on our carriage were amused and entertained by such weather. When we pulled into Filton Abbey Wood such feelings from the adults were not so vibrant. The train manager announced that Patchway tunnel was flooded and a landslip had covered the line. It seems every trip to a race I make Great Western Railways puts a block in the way and every fresh announcement was drowned out by those bloody kids. First we were waiting for engineers to make it safe, then we had to head back to Bristol Temple Meads, then South Wales was completely cut off and all the time those bloody kids were screaming. Where’s the parental control I kept asking myself, it’s hard to hear the information. Eventually, after an hour of waiting, we could pass through on an another line through the tunnel.
Drago Lounge
By the time we hit Newport we were tired, fed up and hungry. We met up with our son, Elliot, and went to where his best mate, Damo, works for lunch. Damo is the manager of Drago Lounge and Drago Lounge serves the best burgers I have ever eaten. After the recent FA Cup tie between Newport County and Manchester United the BBC rocked up to feast on their tasty burgers. Unfortunately they are no reviews from Gary Lineker or Alan Shearer. We met up later after a rest and had far too much to drink but I do see my son so infrequently so I know you’ll understand. Elliot had some trouble from his manager about having time off and had to work from 5am to 12pm so he must have been knackered but he had time for us. We are like two peas in a pod and I always appreciate him.
Sunday morning and race day. Cold and icy but beautiful blue skies and sunshine. I knew I should’ve brought my sunglasses! I didn’t run those long runs in training but I ran regularly and at a good lick which was always part of my training schedule when I raced well years ago so I knew I was in goodish shape. I love the Newport Half because as a city half marathon it offers so much. The section from the city out and back to Caerleon is so good and challenging for a runner. At around 9 miles a kindly business spread rock salt across the path in a shady spot but by in large ice wasn’t too much of a problem as the warm sunshine ha melted most. Support is fantastic all along the course, all clapping and now with some with cowbells. A lone Welsh bagpiper played under a motorway bridge. All this mounts up to make the Newport Half Marathon one of my all time favourite events over 20 plus years of racing, and I get to see my son.
Mission Accomplished
I crossed the finish line in 1 hour 48 minutes, my fastest half marathon in a couple of years just to prove there’s still life in the old dog yet. Finishing a race at 11.00am and needing food is tricky as nowhere is open apart from Wagamama so we dined there for a 3rd successive year. The snow fall between Swansea and Newport meant deliveries hadn’t arrived and the menu was quite limited but we all ate well and continued our celebrations at Wetherspoons before our journey home.
Fame at last
As a postscript, I made headlines in the Gloucestershire Echo 😎😂
And finally, why The Last Time? Because this could be my last race.
The Surreal Adventures of George Bailey's Suitcase 