Setting the scene

PJ: "So Gav why are you doing all these insane adventure races ?"

Gav: "PJ when a straight bloke reaches 40 or 50 he has 3 options. Chase young girls and look like a fool, buy flashy sports cars or big boats and look like a tool, or get fit. Dying of a heart attack in some sort of act of physical endurance is a lot better than being photographed coming out of a tittie bar by a private detective hired by your wife! ... er ... cough ... er ... so I've heard. Anyway the point is ya gotta choose the third option!"

PJ: "Or .... you could just sit on the couch and watch other people get fit!"

Gav: " PJ, no girl likes a couch potato ... now go and get some shoes and start running or something!".

This conversation must have been echoing in my subconscious because I was sitting one day drinking a beautiful Tassie wine with my sister who was visiting from England. She was telling me about a half-marathon she had done a couple of times and said "you should have a go at it". Inside my heard I was screaming "no freakin' way sister ... are you insane people have gotten seriously hurt in that race ... do I look like some sort of masochistic moron to you!" but what came out of my mouth was "alright then I will". 

So the odyssey into a world of pain and possible humiliation begins ......

_________________________________________________________________________________________

28.09.2010

Been there, done that!

Under done and injured. Not that I'm using that as an excuse, it's just how it was. I hadn't been able to train to any great extent for a month prior to the race and frankly I was found out on Sunday.

Despite the problems leading up to the event my pre-race preparation couldn't have been more effective or professional. Non-stop walking looking at all the sites and sleeping in strange beds had me relaxed and calm as we arrived at the night before ....

Classic training literature would have you believe you need to 'carbo load' the night before a race. Usually this means eating a big plate of pasta. This is then followed by a good night's sleep.

Well I know better. I had a couple of bottles of fine English wine. Well, one of their quite good whites followed by yet another really bad English red. All this was helped down by some bikkies and cheese. I didn't sleep exactly, it was more like being unconscious for a few hours. The athlete was primed to go!

I promised my sister that we would start and end the race together. So full of excited anticipation we lined up in the 2 hr and 45 min section. Surrounded by a couple of elephants, ballerinas and Mr Britain we waited for the off. The first part of the race is a 1.6km straight called the 'Great Walk'. Spectators were cheering, cameras were going off and our support crew were yelling "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi, oi, oi". The perfect start.

The race is run in Windsor Park. It is a very beautiful setting being a romantic re-imagining of the English countryside circa 1850. Green fields with deer are bounded by hedges and mini forests. I can't imagine a better place to run.

The event is also well organised. It has to be because some 5000 people come from all over Britain and around the world to compete. That's a lot of cars that need parking and bowels that need emptying. There are also other races held at the same time. Frankly I was impressed with how smooth it all went.

My problems began quite early. A couple of kms in my quad, which had been twinging for a couple of weeks, chucked a bit of a tantrum. I say a bit because I thought it might play up and had taken some anti inflammatories just in case.

Then the achilles chimed in with a 'hey don't forget me I'm injured to' and I started to think 'well aren't I just getting my money's worth!'. It was time to dig deep and remember my pledge 'I will not disgace myself in front of poms!'.

There is a world of difference between a 10km fun run and a half marathon. At the 10km mark, despite my girlie right leg trying to stop me, I was travelling pretty well. But by the 17km mark I was shattered. "Oh ok" I thought "this is what real distance running is all about". I'm not too proud to admit that for the last 4km I was in a world of pain and all I could think about was to keep going.

The final mile (1.6km) was all about just getting there. The numbers of people yelling and cheering, I think someone popular was running near me, helped a lot. But I've never been so glad to finish something in my life. Well not since cold porridge when I was a kid. 2 hours and 1 minute of my life had gone.

I was hobbling by the time I got to the people handing out the snack sized mars bars and medallions. Michelle was suitably impressed with my efforts which made it all worth it. Then I remembered my promise to finish the race with my sister. As James May from Top Gear would say "Oh Cock!"

So it was a quick change of clothes and back up to the end of the Great Walk. After a little while along came my big sister on track to do a PB. By this time it was raining and there was a head wind that had picked up. But a promise is a promise. Michelle and I ran with Pauline to the end. It was a memorable but very painful end to 9 months of training.

Half marathons are stupid, painful and totally unnecessary things. People who do them need to be medicated, counselled and physically restrained if possible...... I can't wait to do it all again!!!!

Got a comment?

14.09.2010

Parlez-Vous ......!

Well only two weeks to race day but the right Achilles is still holding me back. Kind of like those beautiful girls you see with their deadbeat boyfriends. I mean they could be going out with someone who would really appreciate them ... like me.

But enough of teenage issues I clearly haven't gotten over!

Like many travellers I have purchased that bible of foreign lingo, the phrase book. On the face of it, this is a great idea. It's chockers full of handy words and phrases designed to smooth your path with the locals who, of course, always appreciate the effort you're making. The truth is phrasebooks are a menace. It's like being given a bunch of tools, shown a sports car and being told to fix it. They give the impression that speaking the desired language is both easy and fun. The trouble is it's neither

For a start, learning a new language takes you back to your childhood and not in a good way. Suddenly you can't say anything. You resort to jumping up and down, pointing and pulling funny faces just like a baby. Trouble is an about to turn 50 year old bloke just isn't cute anymore.

What's worse phrasebooks 'help' your pronunciation by using phonetics or as I like to call it pathetics. You don't learn a language from a phrasebook. What happens is you find a phrase, mangle that phrase by reading it out and then stare at the unfortunate local with a hopeful expression.

This isn't communication, it isn't experiencing the local culture or impressing anyone. It's how wars get started. If by some miracle you are understood the local replies to you in fluent, rapid sentences full of slang. They then look at you expectantly. Locals find this sort of thing immensely entertaining.

They know that you can't carry on a conversation. So they will give a long winded and convoluted response just to watch the expression on your face. It will be a cross between a stunned mullet and abject fear. Imagine finding out, at exactly the same time, that your wife is pregnant and your girlfriend has given you an STD.

Clearly a phrasebook isn't designed to teach you phrases and isn't much of a book. So, other than inducing you to make funny noises that don't mean anything and receive a barrage of equally unintelligible sounds in return, what is it for? Well, it keeps people who would rather travel around the world than hold down a real job, travelling around the world instead of getting a real, mind numbingly boring and largely pointless job like the rest of us.

Which highlights another big fat lie. Most popular phrasebooks are supposedly written by travellers for travellers. This is tosh. Real travellers know that phrasebooks are hopeless and if they did write them they would be very short. "Speak loudly and finger point" is all they would say. This 'reality based' phrasebook would be more effective, lighter and a lot cheaper.

I wish I had known all this before I handed over some of my hard earned and became the proud owner of both a French and an Italian phrasebook.

Since I bought them I figured I should at least have a look. After a while it struck me that all the material in these phrasebooks can be divided into 3 broad categories. Useful and necessary, useful but hopefully never used and what the ...?

Both books have pages of useful stuff on ordering food, getting accommodation and asking directions. But be warned the book doesn't help you if the local has no sense of direction. I've asked people which way to the bus station while travelling in the past and had them point left and say 'you go right!'.

Some of the phrases, while useful, are not ones you want to use "I have -insert the name of some nasty medical direction here”. "I want a lawyer". "You remind me way too much of that 'chick' in The Crying Game".

But others are completely nonsensical or at least irrelevant for many of us.  Je ne suis qu'un objet sexuel pour toi is French for  "you're just using me for sex". What red blooded Australian man will ever use this phrase unless it’s with a tone of wonder and joy?.  Even if you hear that phrase all you'll say is "and your point is ...?"

I suppose there is one other category. Useful but I will never be allowed to use them. I have ripped out the 'pick up lines' page from the French book and the 2,056 'pick up lines' pages from the Italian book so I can't get into trouble from Michelle. Safety first people!

There's one last thing I noticed. The French phrasebook was clearly written by an Australian. Under the 'one too many' heading is the immortal phrase Tire sur mon doigt ("pull my finger"). Hmmm Australia's gift to international communication and harmony ... multilingual fart gags.

Well as they say in France .... actually I don’t know what they say in France, whatever it is let’s hope for everyone's sake it’s in English. .....

Got a comment?

30.08.2010

Don't push me ......!

Coz I'm close to the edge .....

Unfortunately physical training, no matter what the purpose, has one common principle. Put the body under stress in order to find it's limits. These limits are then pushed out to increase the body's capacity for further physical exertion. Notice the word 'stress'. Stress leads to greater fitness. Strain the body however and this leads to injury. The trouble is you don't always know when beneficial, wonderful and necessary stress becomes ouchy, ouchy, hurty, hurty!

The last two weeks have been a training nightmare. Not only have I been travelling, more of that soon, but I have had a couple of muscle tears just above my right Achilles. While the muscle tears have settled that Achilles is pretty sore. This has meant that I have run the grand total of just 5 km in the last fortnight instead of the required 60 - 80 km. The race is a mere 27 days away.

I had had allusions of doing a better than average time for a midlife crisis afflicted chap but now we're back to merely finishing with some shred of dignity. As much as I hate to say it I have pushed it too hard ... again. I have been guilty of this before, the calf injury in February was a classic case of letting my ego get ahead of my capabilities. This time I am merely the victim of miscalculation.

It didn't seem too much when the weekly long run was under 15 km but once it got to 19 - 20 km I really started to notice. The technique started to falter and it seemed to take an age to recover. Once the overtraining starts to happen the niggles come a callin'.

This last minute injury isn't the only thing pushing me to the edge. Helping Michelle to organise the trip to Europe, keeping winepunters humming and the other projects I have on the go are all helping to make me a little tetchy.

Maybe this is why my recent experience with Australia's exciting and innovative domestic air carriers caused me to go close to having a spectacular tantrum. Not since the time when a vending machine refused to give me that chocolate bar I had paid for, has the urge to throw myself on the ground, beat my fists and feet on the floor and yell at the top of my voice been so strong.

Jetstar ....... or Junk Star, or Bogan Airways as it is 'affectionately' known .... is a truly maddening way to travel.

Not because they're unsafe. Quite the contrary. They have an excellent safety record. It's not because the planes are uncomfortable. No, given the limitations of cattle class, you are reasonably well seated. Their terminals are as uncomfortable and mind numbingly dull as their full cost competitors, so no complaints there either. The problem is that this 'bucket' airline appears to believe they're in the 'service' business.

Let's face it, domestic air travel is no longer a luxury as in the past. Now it's just like catching a bus. That's ok, travelling by bus is good. Nod to the driver, park your arse and away you go. There's even extremely rude but mildly entertaining graffiti to read. The point is that no one expects anything more than a safe arrival more or less on time. Bus passengers don't ring talk back radio and bus companies never appear in those 'you won't believe how bad we are' television programs.

But Jetstar, along with the other cheap airlines, are not embracing the bus ethos. We all know domestic airlines are in the business of getting people from A to B. They are not in the business of enjoyable travel or an 'exciting holiday experience'. Jetstar staff and executives should repeat this to themselves 10 times a day.

Since we all know the truth about domestic air travel. Why won't they come out and admit it? If Jetstar was to embrace the fact that they're in the bus business many wonderful things would happen.

Their staff can stop pretending to care. No more "we hope you enjoy your flight". We don't 'enjoy' our flight, we tolerate it. To pass the time we buy over priced unhealthy snacks, play with electronic devices when we're not supposed to or stare out the window like a prisoner on death row.

The staff can also stop pretending that they're friendly, love their jobs and are doing something worthwhile. Finally being able to admit that they want to be models, actors or at the least working for a 'proper' international airline will make them at least seem less surly.

Lastly it will mean the staff no longer have to use the latest 'customer loyalty enhancing' techniques dreamed up by people who have no idea how to increase customer loyalty. How do I know that Jetstar has been infected by these management consultant knobs? They kept using my first name.

Addressing a person by their first name is very Australian. It makes us all feel equal. We're not of course but we like to pretend. However, Jetstar staff have somehow managed to address their 'customers' by their first name whilst using 'that tone of voice'.

It's hard to adequately describe 'that tone' but you know what I mean. It's a cross between an irritated primary school teacher and "even though I don't know you I still think you're a jerk but I can't tell you that coz I'm paid to be polite". In any case it's not egalitarian, relaxing or 'good customer relations'. It's irritating and likely to make nice people go home and come back with something stabby or shooty.

Having some 'I should be in Hollywood instead of having to deal with you' young person demand that I put the bag on there not there, take their airline tag off for them and stop listening to my ipod 'for me' is not less infuriating because you use my first name. Bring back sir, it sounds better even if it's said in that tone of voice.

So Jetstar, honestly embrace your mediocrity and simply pack us in the plane, keep us waiting on the tarmac for 'technical' reasons and then fly the damn thing to our destination. And do all this without using our names.

Trust me people will be happier ... and I won't be so close to the edge......

Got a comment?

29.07.2010

For we might be nutjobs

When people say "you're mad!" they don't usually mean it. Not unless it's someone with a white coat and a medical degree hanging on their wall.

Actually, have you ever wondered about those fancy looking degrees? You do know that 50.1% is all you need to pass a subject. Yes, I was able to differentiate between your pulse and your bum hole just over 5 times out of 10! Now make me a doctor and give me my brand new BMW!

But I digress. You wouldn't even had to have walked past a medical school to know that I am mad. Stark raving bonkers in fact. I mean how else could you explain driving to the other end of the state to run in the Launceston 10 fun run recently?.

Launceston can be a beautiful place unless it's 6 degrees, blowing like a bugger and raining, which this year is every second day. So it was no surprise that Sunday the 18th July saw Launceston weather chucking another tantrum.

But the weather 'up north' isn't just inclement, it's sneaky. It was raining and blowing and then, just before the start of the race, a miracle. The wind dropped and the rain stopped. 'Down south' this would have meant a proper change but oh no not 'up north'.

You see 'up north' the weather lulls you into a false sense of security. You are just starting to think 'this is alright' when bam! 3km into the Launceston 10 was the moment when .... Yea verily God said unto the runners "cop that suckers!".

There is a reason that blinding cold rain doesn't feature as often in romantic fiction. When people say 'I love walking in the rain' they're referring to the 'soft, gentle, warm summer' variety. Last time I was this cold was on the Overland Track in the snow. Except you don't wear thermals and a gortex rain coat in a fun run. Mind you I would have taken my sodden running cap off to anyone who did that day.

The course is flat and involves running up the East Tamar highway till you get bored and then come back so, despite the weather, it was a fast race. It's amazing how quickly you can move when your family jewels are starting to ice over. I managed my fastest time so far. 47:47 put me in 460 something place, which out of 1300 runners wasn't too bad.

Mind you that was nothing compared to the superfit smart arses. The winner finished in around 29 minutes. That's right, in less time than it takes to watch a Seinfeld re-run this chap, who will never pull chicks like a footy player, ran 10km. He wasn't alone either. I think the first woman, who doesn't date distance runners either, also set a race record.

So the race was full of superfit showoffs. I was passed by old and young alike. I don't know what's worse, being passed by someone old enough to be your grandmother or by some snotty little kid. At least with the old folks you can think to yourself 'well I hope I'm still moving that well when I get to their age'.

It's harder with the 'little darlings'. I can be happy for them that they have their whole lives in front of them. And isn't it great that they are fit and not part of the childhood obesity epidemic. And isn't it fantastic that they have such well developed athletic ability at such a tender age.

No I lied. All those things give me the 'galloping bits' but I can look past all that ... just ... it's the look of contempt they give you as they speed past that I hate!

My ego was helped somewhat by the goodies each runner got as they finished. An apple, a bottle of water, a chic over the sholder bag and a water bottle. This water bottle is orange and glow with such blindingly intensity my eyes water every time I look at it. I don't like to waste things so I make sure my eyes drip into the bottle. Talk about environmentally aware .....

Got a comment?

29.06.2010

World Wide Whinging

Seriously what's with people now a days. What happened to the stiff upper lip, dignity in the face of adversity or just plain 'getting on with it'? Rather than an epidemic of obesity what we have is a tsunami of whinging.

Lleyton Hewitt complained about the court surface as he was 'bundled out' of the recent French open. He referred to it as "this f@#$%^@g surface" but technically speaking it should be called clay.

The Socceroos moaned about 'inconsistent umpiring' while their supporters complained about poor selection decisions. As if this excused them for letting the Germans make up for two world wars by belting them four nil. As it happens this belting undid the subsequent 'heroic' one all draw with Ghana and a 'brave' two one win over Serbia.

Meanwhile the New Zealand soccer team showed what happens when you do more of the quality soccer and less of the moany, complainy, whingey justification blah blah. Thankfully, they didn't advance into the second round otherwise I would have had to adopt the NZ soccer team as Australian as we do with every other successful Kiwi. Enough is enough.

So sport creates fertile ground for the whinger but it pales into insignificance when compared with the world of travel. Since I simply must show off my running prowess to the royal family, part of the preparation for the Windsor half marathon has been organising the travel.

This has introduced me to that world champion of "aw not fair, not fair" the tourist. There is something about leaving home that unleashes the inner Sir Complainalot in large numbers of formerly reasonable people.

These 'why can't everything be like home' types vent their respective spleens on the travel and accommodation review sites. Which are a godsend for us prospective travellers. But you notice some weird things when you start frequenting these sites.

Some companies don't understand how to handle customer reviews. An airline site we looked at said "Read all about our service on ....com". Fine, we did. The reviews were all bad. Poor service, rude staff and inedible food were some of the highlights. This is what happens when marketing staff are recruited for their looks and not their abilities.

I also notice that some people inadvertently reveal more about themselves beyond the fact that they are petty. Michelle has been looking at reviews of hotels in Paris and one in particular caught her eye. This hotel had universally positive reviews until one.

"Disregard all the previous comments" it began. Hello, she thought, someone obviously knows something that these other gullible idiots don't.

Turns out that a generously proportioned gentleman in his late twenties stayed at this "hotel from hell" and was appalled at the fact that it took 10 mins longer to walk to the sights than claimed by other reviewers. Worse, fat people 'will find it hard to manoeuvre around the bathroom' and "horror of horrors" there is no lift in this four story hotel. "Don't bring too much luggage" readers were advised.

The staff, referred to as fantastic in previous reviews, didn't escape the torrent of abuse. "When the Internet stopped the staff were very unhelpful. I asked why it wasn't working and all I got was 'I don't know'!" he fumed. Having hotel staff that are not internet experts is clearly unforgivable. Surely some part of the UN could be called in to assist? 

Now I know what you're thinking. People with real get up and go don't behave in this way. Really? What about the people who 'reviewed' last year's Windsor Half Marathon. These plucky individuals had completed a reasonably difficult feat but what did they have to say about their physical triumph?

Pages and pages of complaints about the size of the mars bars given out at the end of the race. Apparently it is "outrageous" to give "athletes" fun sized mars bars instead of the full sized. Actually calling something too small 'fun sized' tells me that a man made that marketing decision. But I digress.

Participants were "left standing in the blazing sun". It was 20 degrees. Finally because of a car accident outside the main gates of the park where the run is held people were stuck for hours. Presumably the organisers are responsible for ensuring excellent traffic flows as well as suitably appropriate weather.

I hate bloody whingers. I hate that they use up valuable oxygen and take up parking spaces. I hate that I have to watch them on TV and listen to them in queues at supermarkets or airports. Go and die somewhere or just shut up!

Hang on .... I just realised I'm whingeing about whingers, complaining about complainers and moaning about moaners .......  Am I part of the problem?

Oo er, I just had a zen moment.....

Got a comment?

29.06.2010

Toilet watching dobbers?

Since the recent City to Casino some truly ridiculous things have occurred.

The woman who won the 11km event was on the news in one of those post event type interviews saying how important it is to be 'smiling' as you run. Please. If you can smile you are either an annoying super fit smart arse who should be in a tougher race or just not trying. Now a grimace, particularly the 'I'm in pain' type, shows effort and commitment.

I thought that was bad but worse was to come.

A friend, who read my piece about my less than stellar start to the race, told me how she was in the toilet when the gun went off. We shared a quiet laugh about this, a couple of not quite organised but enthusiastic participants. A nice moment.

The next thing I hear is that because she was in the toilet her time wouldn't be officially recorded. Apparently this punishment sends a strong message to other people who 'flout the rules'. I couldn't believe it but sure enough looking on the official website - no name no time. Why? What possible reason could there be to penalise her and not me. After all I was also late and I was yelling profanities as I sprinted to catch the pack as it disappeared over the horizon.

Then something else occurred to me. Someone has the job of watching the toilets and dobbing in anyone seen tearing out of them at the sound of the starting gun.

Can you imagine the moment when the careers advisor turns to you and says "well we've run all the tests and analysed the results, the best job for you is toilet watching dobber".

But what if you don't get paid for that job. What if you volunteer for it. "It's my duty!" you say "Without me there would be anarchy in the field of fun runs. Can you just imagine the chaos as people come out of the toilets when ever they feel like it!"

I thought that was bad but worse was to come.

I shouldn't be surprised. Ridiculous, like trouble, seems to come in threes. On the news was an item about a new career opening up in the field of medicine. The local medical school is looking for men to be practice patients. The successful candidates are given the 'exciting opportunity' to help trainee doctors perfect 'more sensitive' examinations.

For the princely sum of $40 an hour you let strange men, and the occasional woman, fondle your testicles and put their fingers in your ..... I'm too embarrassed to say .... pass me the 'bad touching doll' and I'll show you.

Can you imagine the moment when the careers advisor turns to you and says "well we've run all the tests and analysed the results, the best job for you is ......" 

Got a comment?

20.05.2010

Mr Never Ready

How many people can point to the exact day that they peaked?

I can, it was May 16th 1994. I know this because I found something about my past on the Internet that shocked me. I felt quite the celebrity. You see that was the day I ran the City to Casino in 41 minutes and 6 seconds.

That's under 4 minutes a kilometre! I finished 86th out of a field of over 400 runners! That's in the top 25%! A truly staggeringly brilliant achievement. Bow down and worship me as your god! Unfortunately the Internet also records all my subsequent efforts through the rest of the 90's. All slower than 1994. The downward spiral had begun.

My latest effort of 52 minutes 50 seconds is simply a continuation of this depressing trend.

Now advancing age and an expanding waistline are obvious suspects in the mystery of why not exercising for 13 years should have such a disastrous impact on my running speed. But I think it's my preparation. I was simply better prepared when I was younger, slimmer, fitter and had more hair.

Every running book I've read is very clear about how to prepare for a race. Get your gear out the night before,  arrive at the race early, be relaxed and mentally rehearse the race while sipping water to ensure you are hydrated. Great advice and you should all follow it.

I, on the other hand, have my own system. Swan around the night before. Get up as close as possible to the time you need to leave. Then have a leisurely cup of coffee. Wait until your partner asks you if you have everything before running around like a nutter grabbing clothing and other equipment. Ensure you don't know where your race number is. This is very important.

Proceed to look for your race number in an increasingly agitated fashion until you have passed the time you should have left. Find the number but then leave it at home. This is very important. Discover this oversight approximately 10 - 15 minutes into your journey and turn the car around and speed home swearing loudly. Grab the number, continue swearing, jump back into your car and drive at a dangerous speed to the race. Arrive seconds before the start. Now you are ready to set a personal best.

I didn't know I had this system until last Sunday. This is probably why I didn't stick to it properly. Michelle had to channel her inner "The Lady Stig" in order to get me to the race. And she didn't get there with seconds to spare as the 'system' demands. No, she pulled over just as the gun went off. Well when I say pulled over I mean she slowed down enough so I could 'tuck and roll' on to the nature strip.


Race warm up? A race warm up should probably not comprise sprinting 200m while putting on your race number and yelling "ssshhhhiiiiiiiiiiitt" in your outside voice. Having to stop and tie up your shoe laces about a kilometre in doesn't help either. Nor does not organising where you're going to be picked up at the end of the race. Other than that everything went brilliantly, might tweek the 'system' just a tad before the next race though ......

Got a comment?

16.05.2010

Bogan's run?

I have just finished the 2010 City to Casino 11km fun run which winds its way from the 'city' of Glenorchy (the cream of the northern suburbs) to the Casino in fashionable Sandy Bay. Instead of basking in another successful step on the way to half marathon glory, I am, in a word, outraged.

I'm not upset that, due to a course change, the race is 600 metres longer. No. Nor am I doing my grumpy old man act because the "city to casino" no longer goes from the "city" like in the past. It should now be called "the bit of highway in front of the showgrounds near the city to casino".

What has caused the lower lip to tremble is the fact that this race has a reputation of bringing out the bogans. This isn't that surprising. Glenorchy has a proud history of hoons, robbers and 'shots fired at police' merchants. What's more a friend of mine has told me repeatedly that near the start of the race is a family of bogans who come out of their house to drink bundy, smoke cigarettes and hurl abuse at the passing runners. That's just the kids, apparently the parents are worse.

I find being told that, because I like to run, I must want to sleep with men hugely entertaining. I was almost beside myself with excitement as race day approached. My plan was to run as close to the house as possible so as not to miss any of the snappy, witty and brilliant quips coming from said bogans. I would pass of the best of these comments as my own at my next social event.

Nothing. Not one single solitary bogan. Polite and encouraging spectators as far as the eye could see.

I had to wait until almost the last kilometre before someone obnoxious appeared. This buffoon was complaining that his life had been reduced to tatters because of a 'disgraceful' delay to his usual Sunday drive. Runners yelling back "This happens once a year you old git" didn't seem to help the situation. Sometimes being right doesn't pay off like it should. To top it off as I passed he was yelling "don't you know who I am" into the face of a young policeman. Old gits who yell at young people armed with a gun and capsicum spray deserve the very best in life don't you think? 

Not surprisingly Mr Buffoon was from Sandy Bay. Many people from this suburb believe passionately that they are superior to those people who live in Glenorchy. The fact that this regularly turns out not be the case doesn't seem to change their minds.  I think that high priced real estate too often attracts the wrong sort of person. Don't get me started on some of the 'delightful' people from Battery Point.

The upshot is I had to endure a well organised, completely safe and very pleasant run. It's just not right ...... 

Got a comment?

11.05.2010

Cha - Ching!

See that's the problem with setting goals, you have to make an effort. As my mentor Homer J Simpson said "Effort is just the first step down the road to disappointment" and now I understand what he meant. One of my goals was to achieve my, admittedly modest, running objectives as cheaply as possible.

I am failing miserably.

Suddenly I am buying new running gear. I don't need it but I can't seem to help myself. My wallet is opening and closing so much lately it's a wonder it hasn't flown off. Suddenly I am perusing various on-line retail sites like some sort of shopping addict. Why? The stuff doesn't make me run any faster. Most of it doesn't even look good on me. Running gear is often tight fitting which, for a chunky gent such as myself, is like sliding a balloon around an egg.

Where the hell did this sudden interest in fashion come from anyway? Fashion is a loser's game. It doesn't matter how hard you try, how much you spend, you will still be out of fashion in a few months. People who hate you design clothes that look good on models but stupid on you and yet we just keep buying the stuff. Logic obviously does get a look in. It wasn't that long ago that a clothing line had the tag 'a look as individual as you are'. Sure. Millions of people all wearing the same stuff, in the same way, at the same time. Doesn't that just scream "individual!"

The other inexplicable change in my behaviour is my increased visits to health 'professionals' even when I don't need to. Not learning my lesson from the remedial massage, which according to some research I read recently is useless in performance improvement, I went to a podiatrist. No, there's nothing wrong with either foot. I went for a gait analysis. I wanted someone to look at how I walk and run to see if I could become more efficient.

Yes, I've been running for a couple of months and already I have obviously exhausted all other options. Training, diet, mental toughness. None of that. No I need to check my gait. Worse, I thought I would be told "best gait ever!". Since when is a health professional going to say "you're right mate no need to come back". These people have luxury cars to buy, teeth to whiten and kids to privately educate.

Cha-ching! 

Anyway at least I have been making some progress in other areas. I recently ran 8km at 5 min 5 sec/ km which is the fastest pace yet. It gets better. The last 3km of that run was at 4min 53 sec/ km. I have also got my weekly long run up to 14kms which is the longest distance I have ever run.

But with every step forward there seems to be a step back. Recently I had the opportunity to chat to Donna MacFarlane who is a Commonwealth Games medallist and one of Tasmania's most successful runners. After congratulating her on winning the 4.8km event I sheepishly mentioned that I was in the 10.3km event. "Oh" she said "did you run all that way?" in that 'I can't really believe you would be capable' tone of voice. You know the one.

Sure she tried to back out of it later but I think she just doesn't rate me as a runner. Me! ..... Unbelievable .....

Got a comment?

20.04.2010

Athletes ahead

The sign, about 5.5km into the Round the River fun run, was correct, there were athletes ahead. A long way ahead. A long, long, long way ahead. In fact the winning super fit smart arse finished around 19 minutes before me. He could have gotten married and divorced in that time. Except he looked twelve. Still he might have been from the country. People do things a lot younger in the country.


Nearly there The Round the River fun run in 2010 is a much healthier beast than it was a few years ago. This year some 500 plucky Tasmanians, plus one African chap, turned up to have a go at either the 2.2, 4.8 or 10.3km runs. This is a far cry from the 50 that entered one year recently. In fact organisers were so concerned they seriously thought about dropping the 10km option altogether. Luckily they didn't because this is the best 10km fun run in Hobart.

Technically it should be called the "run along the river past the sewerage plant" fun run. In a lovely bit of irony the steepest hill is at the sewerage plant. Now wouldn't that give you the sh....  Anyway, while the course doesn't go 'around' the river you're never more than a few metres from it. On a beautiful day like we had on Sunday it was spectacular.

I also liked the fact that the course wasn't closed so you were running past people pushing prams or walking their dogs. You also met old people who tried to stop you to ask what you were doing. They looked quite miffed when no one would 'pass the time of day like we did when we were young ... I mean the rudeness of people today!'.  I can't speak for everyone else .... in fact at the time I couldn't speak at all.

The run might have been well organised but getting to it proved to be far more difficult than I imagined. Technology is overrated. There I've said it. The theory is that between Google and various other geek populated organisations finding a location should be the simplest thing in the world. No it's not, it really really isn't.

According to the race website the Round the River started at a place called Simmons Park. Now, despite living in and around Hobart for years, I hadn't heard of it. Well neither had Google or Where is or any other 'don't you worry yourself we'll give you directions' type site. Firstly these wonders of technology wanted me to believe that the race started in Victoria. Having another go at least produced a location in Hobart. But it was tagged as 'unverified'. It should have been tagged as 'wildly inaccurate'.

My third attempt produced yet another obviously wrong location. So in disgust I got out my 15 year old street directory and what do you know? This book (gen y ask your parents what a book is), this old old book had the answer. Technology let me down and I think I know why. Technology is developed by geeks. Lonely people who've never known the touch of a woman but know everything about Middle Earth. So geeks are totally focussed on their computers and they develop fantastic technology. But then they make money and suddenly women are interested and they stop concentrating. The result. They no longer watch Star Trek and we're left with technology that can't find a very large park on Hobart's eastern shore.

Anyway thanks to the printed word I managed to get to the start line. Well, there wasn't a starting line as such, it was a piece of tape laid on the road at the 'duck crossing' sign. Which was just one of many differences from my last event, the 30,000 strong mega spectacular known as the 'Run for Kids'. This is a good thing. What the Round the River lacks in 'shock and awe' it makes up for in sheer enjoyment. 

Sure there were no funny costumes but when the starting whistle went it didn't take 40 minutes to get to the duck crossing sign .. er start, it was more like 20 seconds. Also, you were able to run immediately rather than having to walk for a few kilometres waiting for the crush to reduce. The scenery was far better, there was a beach run and free Gatorade for us slow more mature gents at the finish.

By now I'm sure you want to know  ...  how did I go?. Thanks for asking. I managed somewhat of a PB. (Putting on my best Jeremy Clarkson voice) I did it .... in ..... 52 minutes and 57 seconds. Which doesn't sound much but I was expecting to take up to 60 mins. I haven't run at 5 min 10 secs pace for years and to my surprise I kept it up the whole way.


Finished really finished Despite my efforts however, I finished in the bottom half of the field, although only just. If I had been 57 secs quicker I would have been the 109th person out of a field of 218. The last person took nearly 2 hrs. Even so I could feel the patronising stares from the 'athletes' who had finished, been out for a latte and just wandered back to get their prizes. Come to think of it, why did nearly all the spot prizes go to women? The person picking the names out was a woman but I am sure that's just coincidence.

Given that I am the proud owner of the spoilt brats I was happy to pull up reasonably well. I'm a bit sore today in the ...... well everywhere really .... but I'm not hobbling and frankly I've had worse man colds. I think I will have another go at this event next year unless I'm unlucky and get hit by the lazy stick, or I'm too busy yelling at a geek about their hopeless technology ...... 

Got a comment?

12.04.2010

Firsts and finally(s)

It's been a period of firsts and finally(s). I've actually been able to run for more than a month without injury or a peep from the spoilt brats (finally).

I had my first wet weather run. This may not sound much but when you live in an area that does rain shadow better than most, running in the rain is a novelty. We had 12mm, most of which fell when everyone's favourite Mr Midlife Crisis was out and about. Still it was 19 degrees so it was more like running in the shower. This is a very dangerous thing to do kiddies so don't do it, running in the shower that is, running in the rain is fun and will make a man of you. Unless you're a girl in which case running in the rain won't cause some water induced weird sex change, you'll just get wet but you will be all the better for it. 

Er ... enough on shower safety.....

Another first. I am back to where I left off just before the injury. I ran the 8km loop yesterday which I last visited the day before disaster struck. Is that a first, finally or just deja vu all over again?.

The firsts continue into next weekend (Sun 18th April). I will be entering that 10km jaunt along the Derwent River known as the 'Round the River Run'. While it doesn't attract the numbers of a Run for Kids (there is no chance of 30,000 entrants) it is a very scenic run and if my memory serves a very pleasant one. It will give me a chance to set a baseline time over a reasonable distance. I have read that your 10km time can be used to estimate your half marathon time. Last time I ran this event was in 1996 and I was hung over.  Not this time! Well that's the plan any way. 

Although .... Michelle and I had dinner with Gav and his wife "if you mention me on your site I'll kill you" recently and they over indulged the night before a race. The result? A very nice time thank you very much. Hmmm running after a big night on Tassie wine ... innovative performance enhancer or a disaster waiting to happen......?

Got a comment?

29.03.2010

Some kinda super hero

Not much happening on the personal front at the moment. It's just head down and keep running. Since being back on the track the "spoilt brats", as my calves will forever be known, are behaving themselves. Eleven runs without injury. Now all I've got to do is get the distance up.

However, things are a lot more interesting in the wider world. A couple of incidents this week really illustrated how many sides there are to the concept of 'havin a go'. In fact they made me wonder - am I some kinda super hero?

Lately I have been worrying that Australia is on the fast track to surpass the poms as the world's greatest practitioners of learned helplessness. Admittedly I suspect that the extent to which poms are hopeless has been overstated by their traditional enemies - the rest of the world.

Unfortunately, Australians really are in danger of becoming world class cry babies. As Mark Webber pointed out yesterday we have turned into a nanny state. He's right of course. Jensen Button does a burnout and up pop the men and women in safety hats linking a low risk, but stupid and annoying, behaviour like burnouts with road deaths.

Fortunately the forces of weakness haven't conquered everywhere. At the same time Victorian authorities were treating an over exuberant Formula one driver like some sort of hardened criminal we had plucky Aussie battler and Leader of the Opposition Tony Abbott doing an ironman triathlon. Tony had to swim 3.5kms, cycle 180kms and run a marathon. All in 30 degree heat. It took him 14hrs and at the end of it he had himself a beer. Forget the politics, here was a case of havin' a go.

What was the response of our PM Kevin "Pudgy" Rudd and his merry men er women er persons? Well they started by calling it a "publicity stunt". Kev. Mate. Have you ever been in a triathlon in extreme heat? Tony's spin doctors are just as over paid and ethically challenged as yours so if a publicity stunt was needed it wouldn't have been an Ironman event. It would have been something like poncing about in a mine or work site in safety clothing just like you do.

Someone must have pointed this out to the Labor party brains trust because then they were mouthing some gibberish about work life balance. Apparently Tony's fitness activities meant he was neglecting his work. Kev. Mate. Virtually everyone else in that event works full time and they all manage to do their jobs, care for their families and be good people. So by criticising and trying to belittle his achievement you weren't just having a go at Tony, you were having a go at all the participants.

Unfortunately Kevin's message of 'follow me down the path of least resistance' is rubbing off on some people in my suburb. Recently Michelle and I were walking our dogs and we were followed home by what looked like a cross between an Alsatian and a grizzly bear. Thankfully it was happy, well looked after and placid. We left a phone message with  it's owners telling them where they could find their dog. So did a couple of our neighbours when hours later the dog was still with us. Eventually we got hold of the owners and asked them why they hadn't come for the dog. "We didn't know where your street was". They didn't ring, use Google or even open a street directory. Obviously their work life balance didn't include taking responsibility, showing initiative or gettin' off their arse. Here then is a case of not havin' a go.

Which brings me to me. I regard myself as just an ordinary bloke but solving problems and having a go is as natural as breathing and, like breathing, I don't expect a pat on the back everytime I do it. I just do it. The efforts of Tony Abbott and everyone else in any Ironman event put my training and my goals to shame but at least I'm out there sweatin' and chaffin'. What's more, I would go and get my dog.

OK so maybe in this new, but less able Australia I fear is on the horizon, I wouldn't be a super hero but surely I'd qualify as a super hero's sidekick. Surely......

Got a comment?

22.03.2010

To all the moaners and Gatorade thieves - screw you!

I made many complimentary remarks about Melbournians in my summary of the Sun Herald Run for Kids. Looks like what I said about the volunteers was right on the money but my fellow participants .... er maybe not so much. I recently received an email newsletter from the organisers of the Run for Kids event. Seems Melbourne might be home to a few undesirables.

Apparently some of my fellow participants complained about the delayed start to the 14km event. If memory serves the 9.00am start was more like 9.20am.  As the newsletter explained the start was delayed to accommodate a competitor who was recovering from an accident. This accident was so bad that the doctors thought this woman wouldn't walk again but somehow she got herself to the point where she was competing in a 5km charity fun run. The organisers wanted the lady to reach a particular part of the circuit before starting the 14km event so she wouldn't be swamped by the thousands of competitors in that event.  I think that was the right decision.

Now think about this for a minute. People go in an event with 30,000 others and complain because the gun doesn't go off at the advertised time. Sure they don't know the reason but wouldn't you think that they would understand that an event like this may not achieve split second accuracy in it's timing? Seriously, these types of knobs would sound the horn as soon as the light goes green, chuck a hissy fit if their email application takes 2 seconds longer to load than normal and shoot off an 'angry from Hawthorn' letter if a train is a second late.

So to all the moaners - screw you!

Talking about the start. I notice that the super fit smart arse who won the event did so in a little over 44 minutes. So 4 minutes after I crossed the start line he was running through the tape, being congratulated by other running nerds and wishing that attractive women would notice him. He must have also been drinking a lot of gatorade because by the time I finished there was none. This puzzled me somewhat. I mean this was a very slick event so "What .... puff .... gasp .... gives ...gasp ... puff? I said.

The organisers newsletter cleared up that little point as well. Apparently there was more than enough Gatorade, fruit and other stuff for every one of the thousands of Aussie battlers that entered. The problem was that some people (and you know who you are!) were taking more than their share. The greedy, greedy early finishers were helping themselves to bucket loads of stuff leaving nothing for the more fitness challenged participants still on the course. By the time I finished all I got was a small cup of squashed, sticky and sick looking grapes. Frankly I was lucky. People coming in behind me, and there were quite a few, got zip.

Apparently the organisers have plans for next year's event that will address this issue. Knowing just how selfish a person would need to be to take 5 cups of Gatorade when only one or two is necessary means that I  confidently predict that some of the complaints next year will be of the  "I wanted more Gatorade/ grapes/ free give a ways and that nasty volunteer wouldn't let me!" type.

So to all the Gatorade thieves - screw you!

Got a comment?

15.03.2010

So many friends so little space!

Well the Sun Herald Run for Kids has been run and won by some super fit smart arse.  I don't know who it was and I have no intention of finding out. Oh sure I bet he's nice to his wife and kids and, since the race was in Melbourne, there is a chance he is an AFL umpire. Bam, two reasons to 'admire' and 'respect' him. To be fair I should say something similar about the female winner who no doubt is some annoying over achiever .... but at least she would have had great legs.

Lets leave them to their self admiration and bragging rights and talk instead about the rest of the people who fronted.After all they deserve some credit. If it wasn't for us those show offs wouldn't have anything to crow about, I mean who cares if you are first in a field of one?

Yes folks, I and 30,000 of my closest friends braved the scorching sun to run/ walk/ crawl through 14.3 kms of the finest bitumen Melbourne had to offer. Actually it was fabulous - we got to run under the Yarra river through the Domain Tunnel and over the Bolte Bridge. Two places that pedestrians aren't usually allowed to go.

I think everyone should have a crack at it. Just not all at once.  It was pretty mind blowing to see so many happy and amazingly polite people in one place. A friend told me that people in Melbourne are trying to out do New Yorkers when it comes to rudeness. But I have to say I didn't see any evidence of that . Not a single bogan yelling obscenities to be seen anywhere. Unlike what occurs on at least one major fun run in Tassie where the local bogans come out of their homes in their sleepwear with their ciggies in one hand and their bundy in the other to offer 'hilarious' commentary on the looks/ technique/ sexual persuasion of the passing runners.

Actually while I'm in an uncharacteristically generous frame of mind I have to mention the volunteers who helped organise and run this event. For those of you brought up on a diet of 'entertainment' shows like 'A Current Affair' it is a welcome reminder of the basic goodness of Australians who turn out in large numbers and freely give their valuable time to help make charity events like the Run for Kids such a success. Too much of this type of experience and I might start liking people again! Seriously, these guys worked very hard and on the day sat in the hot sun for hours to make sure it all went well. Bloody amazing. 

If mentioning 30,000 people isn't enough for you to understand the sheer scale of the Run for Kids let me tell you about the start. There was the ritual final countdown and we all dutifully joined in at the top of our voices. When we got to zero the starting horn went off and .... nothing ..... no one near me moved. After a minute or so I turned to the person next to me and said "so .... mate .... how you handling the pace so far? " "Good" he replied "don't know if I'll be able to keep it up though". 40 minutes later we shuffled over the starting line. Over the next couple of kilometres we were able to 'speed up' to a fast walk but the crowd didn't really open up until near the 4km mark.  I had been advised to nominate for the fastest runner section so I could be near the front of the crowd and now I understand what a sterling piece of advice that is, but I really enjoyed being in the 'we're here to have fun' section.

This was my first big event and I had read that it's usual for some people to dress up. Well it's true. I saw a guy who looked like his day job involves the collection of gambling debts, drug sales and other 'underbelly' type activities. But there he was raising money for kiddies wearing a delightful soft pink petticoat with a set of the biggest Madonna pointy boobs I have ever seen. Topping it all off was a stylish blond wig and, I think, some tasteful make up. 

We also had the Teenage Ninja Turtles, various superheros, goths, punks and a guy in a lion/ teddy bear costume. It was 28 degrees and he ran in the equivalent of a Humphrey B Bear suit! I was also impressed with the teachers from a primary school who had shirts saying "Run from Kids". Lastly I have to mention the group of 'Naughty Nurses' and their 'patients'. 

Unfortunately some costumes didn't work quite so well. There were a number of people wearing shirts that said "I do it outdoors". All of them looked like the only thing they did out doors was eat and drink and then eat and drink some more. And look, some people should wear lycra all the time and others ... well .... not so much. Please, if you can't work out which one you are then ask around, don't just assume that lycra should be part of 'your look'.

Awards are handed out at these events so I want to jump on the recognition band wagon. The "er .... that came out wrong" award goes to the announcer who cheerfully told us that "the wheel chair athletes are off and running". Really!! The 'sorry you couldn't make it' award goes to a mate who was unable to attend due to having a man cold. It was pointed out to me that Michelle completed the race and she's got a hole in her hip. So what? People - it was a man cold!.

The highlight for me was running half the race with no calf problems and watching a couple of people tow someone they didn't know up the steep climb on the Bolte Bridge. The low lights were being passed by a woman I swear was on the sunset side of 80 and some mouthy 8 year old kid. Still I managed to catch him later and trip him up ... accidently of course. Good thing the event raised a million dollars for the Melbourne Children's Hospital.

Got a comment?

10.03.2010

Real men don't walk!

First the good news. My cry baby calves have stopped channelling their inner teenage girl ("I hate you, I hate you! You never let me have any fun! I'm going to live with my friend Kyra and you can't stop me!") and have settled down. They now accept that I intend to run the half marathon with or without them and if they want to come to  England and France they will just have to behave themselves. 

The only trouble now is that the Sun Herald Run for Kids is this Sunday (14th) and I've only been back running for a week.  The four runs have been done at a comfortable pace with no sign of calf problems. But now I have to decide whether to run or walk the 14.6 kms. Sensible people would say "now PJ you are coming back from injury. Take it easy or you will re-injure yourself and then where will you be? Walking would be the safest thing, the appropriate thing, the responsible thing".  I hate sensible people. I hate their hairstyles, their clothes and their smug voices. 

Sensible people nod sagely when health minister Nicola Roxon goes on and on and on about how anything even remotely fun is bad for our health and should be banned or taxed into oblivion. These edicts are always delivered in that cheese grater voice she has perfected. What is it about Labor women and their ability to punch through a metre of concrete with their voices? Sensible people want all of us to live in a world of beige. A place that is safe, careful and indescribably dull. Worst of all I hate the fact that they can sometimes, usually completely by accident, be right.

What they don't understand is that real men don't walk. Well they can but only in very particular circumstances. It is ok to walk the dog, walk to the pub and even take romantic walks - but only during the very early stage in a relationship. Once sex has been had it's back onto the couch and the remote.  A real man can also walk into a room to foil a plot, solve a crisis or to pick up a super model.

Move to the world of sport and the same rules apply. Real sporting men can't walk. Well they can but only if they're suffering from a spectacular and life threatening injury. Walking in those circumstances makes people, especially beautiful women and Mums, sigh and say things like "he's so brave, I think I'll take him home". Don't believe me? Tell me why terms like 'respected' 'admired' or 'sexy' are never used when referring to even the best male Olympic walkers.  Was it a walker that took those shower pictures of Ms Bingle? No, of course not. She is a lady with standards after all. Plus walkers can't afford her taste in engagement rings.

Fun runs in particular are not designed for your average walking straight man. Enter into any fun run as a walker and they put you into a section with geriatric men and women with their dogs or prams. While waiting to actually start the race (a minimum of half an hour) you get laughed at, peed on and bruised. That's just from the geriatric men! No woman had been picked up in the slow jogger/ walker section of a major fun run. Nope, not ever.

Of course all this metaphorical arm waving and tantrum chucking doesn't hide the fact that I will probably don the beige cardigan, put up a Nicola Roxon poster in my bedroom and bloody walk. Well at least some of it. Or maybe none of it. No ..... better not.....that wouldn't be sensible.

Got a comment?

8.03.2010

No running for old men

It's easy to feel a bit self absorbed when you're injured. After all noone understands your pain right? There you are feeling frustrated at the forced layoff and the time it's taking to recover. To make matters worse everyone treats frustration like it's not a real emotion. I disagree. To me it's a mixture of anger and sadness it just doesn't get the kudos that comes with those gold plated emotions.

If you're sad or angry you usually get some sympathy or support at least for a while but with frustration it's all "you'll get over it", "stop moaning and wash the dishes" or "suck it up cry baby".

Still I did have some relief the other day albeit unintended. I got an email from a mate about the up and coming Run for Kids event. It appears that everyone in our group of old men and their younger partners is carrying an injury. Neck problems, back problems, knee problems, hip problems and of course my little effort.

All these injuries to fit and healthy people. As my mate said "I would be better off lying on the couch, drinkin' beer and scratching my nuts than pursuing this 'healthy' lifestyle". You know I am starting to wonder if he may be on to something there.

Got a comment?

14.02.2010

I am unbalanced .... ah .... now I'm balanced

Two weeks on and still not running on dry land. Doing lot's of water running and swimming which hopefully will make a difference when I do get back on the track but for now it's "patience glasshopper".

The injury was mostly caused by muscle and flexibility imbalances but helped along by me believing that a 12 year lay off has no impact and that, of course, you can run as long and as fast as you like right from the start!  Going to the physio has revealed that my left leg is less flexible than my right. In addition the inner calf muscle on my left leg has been working harder than the outer one. Working so hard in fact that it went off on stress leave.

So the last couple of weeks has been partly about dealing with the actual injury and partly about addressing these imbalances.

What I didn't know was that my right calf has been getting jealous about all the attention I have lavished on the left one. Sure I have been spending extra time with my left calf and rubbing it and spoiling it and making sure it was happy. But that doesn't mean it's my favourite. I love both of them equally. It's a bit like having to spend more time with the slow kids in the class - annoying for everyone else but necessary.

Despite me explaining all this to the right calf it had to chuck a hissy fit. "What's the matter?" I said. "Nothing!" was the response. That's when you know you're in trouble. Nothing you can do but wait for the inevitable unpleasant fallout. And so it was that about a week ago it threw a tantrum and gave a very good impression of a muscle tear. Thankfully it wasn't a real tear but this will probably mean another two weeks of recovery.  Well I hope you're both happy now! Seriously, they are like a couple of spoilt brats.

So I was unbalanced but now I am balanced ..... 

Got a comment?

11.02.2010

Injury update

Haven't run for just over a week and frankly it is starting to get to me.  I know it's not that long but the Melbourne run is getting closer and I am getting a tad tense. If I have any chance at all of running a 'time', or even running in this event at all I have to get back out on the track soon. The calf is on the mend and I have been working diligently at my recovery but patience and I aren't good friends or even acquaintances. Frankly I walk across the street to avoid even saying hello to patience.

Despite this I have to say some good things have come out of the injury. To keep my aerobic fitness I have rediscovered the joys of swimming. Dodges Ferry does it again. Instead of paying to go to a pool all I do is head for the beach which is about 5 min walk from my front door. In addition to the swimming, the physio has recommended that I try 'deep water running'.

As the name suggest you wade into the water until you can't touch the bottom and start running. It feels weird at first but after a while you settle into a blend of running on the spot and crawling forward. The beauty of this is that it works your legs but doesn't put any pressure on your calves. I have read that it is very effective in speeding recovery but frankly it is the psychological benefits that matter.

The worst thing about an injury is the enforced inactivity. This can lead to frustration and a desire to start training again before you should. Deep water running at least feels like training and I have found that it has taken the pressure off a bit and I am more likely to give the injury the time it needs to heal properly.

The other bonus has been that getting back in the water has also meant getting back into my old wet suit. Even at the height of summer the sea is bloody cold for anyone over about 10. For some reason kids don't feel the cold but us oldies need to rug up. For the first time in a couple of years I donned the old 3:2 wetsuit (so called because the material is 3 mm thick in the body and 2 mm in the arms). To my surprise it still fits! I couldn't wait to share this good news with Michelle.  "Look at the sleeve" she said "it says Megastretch".

Why, oh why is a man not a king in his own castle!

Got a comment?

09.02.2010

Life stages begin with a phrase

If you think about it you realise that major phases in your life are announced. "It's a girl". "It's a boy". "It's ..... well we don't know what it is but isn't it just fabulous!" Along with your birth all the other major 'firsts' are accompanied by particular phrase. The first day at school ("be good"), your first girlfriend/ boyfriend ("be good") and and your first job ("be good or at least don't get caught"). Unfortunately your advancing years are also announced. At some point all of us hear the dreaded phrase "a person of your age."

You may think you are ready but trust me you're not. Not even a little bit. The reaction is always the same. Firstly you look over your shoulder because surely they're talking about someone else. Once you realise that you are in fact the subject of that awful phrase you go through many of the stages of grief. Denial, anger ... and I suppose eventually acceptance (I'm not there yet). 

So it was that I trundled along to the physio just expecting to be given my money's worth of professional injury rehabilitation. What I got was all that plus the announcement that I am now officially old. "Well" the young, fit Bondi Vet type dude said "a man of your age needs to make sure they recover properly between sessions". Surely all us runners, no matter what our vintage, should do this I thought to myself.

See, this is why I hate injuries. No one would be talking about my age if I was still out running. Still I have made a couple of my friends happy. They were complaining that it wasn't fair that I had started running after so long and hadn't got hurt. I think they jinxed me .... maybe it was voodoo ... the black arts  ... Harry Potter style ..... 

Got a comment?

03.02.2010

The anatomy of the injury from hell!

What a difference a couple of days make, I am sitting here with my leg up on a packet of frozen, but rapidly thawing, peas. Yesterday I was in the middle of a speed session when bam! I tore the top of my soleus (this muscle sits under the calf muscle). Update - the physio says it was my calf not the soleus but what would he know!?

Now take a moment to put yourself in shoes of the average middle aged man and ask yourself. What would the worst injury you can imagine, short of death or losing a limb, look like?

One, it would happen after a period of high, maybe overblown, confidence. Two, it would happen at the worst possible location. Three, it would happen at the worst possible time. Finally it would be something that, if you had thought about it, could have been avoided. If I apply these criteria to the last 24 hours.

One, I have just finished patting myself on the back about how well I have been doing (see previous entry) and had started to think maybe I was worrying too much about injuries.

Two, it happened at the busiest part of the run - in front of the local shops and at least 2km from home. How come no one sees you when you are running well but as soon as trouble hits there's everyone there to see!

Three, I had just passed a couple of young girls. Sure they probably had finished laughing at my efforts by the time I had to stop but I knew they were there. You'll be happy to know I kept my dignity and didn't look around. How come .... well you know.  Far worse is the fact that the day before I had booked flights to Melbourne and entered the Sun Herald Run for Kids (14.6km). The plan was to fly over, impress my big city friends with a blistering time, swan back over to Tassie and then create a triumphant and slightly smug entry for this blog.

Finally, looking back over the runs I had been doing there is no doubt that I had started to introduce speed work too soon. According to a couple of physiotherapy sites what I just did is a classic 'training too hard too early' type of injury.

On the bright side I have been icing the tear like mad and I am off to the physio tomorrow. Lets hope I've brought my usual level of competence to bear and haven't done the injury 'properly'. If I am going to make the Melbourne deadline (14th March) I need to be back training in a week or so.

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31.01.2010

Well that's the end of month one!

It seems only yesterday, but was in fact 30 yesterdays, that I dragged my sorry butt out onto the roads of Dodges Ferry for that middle aged man shuffle I call a jog.  So how has it gone? ...

Well I have covered 80 injury free kms running and 259 kms walking the dogs. I count the walks because they are part of my recovery. The recovery is great because it also includes rest and post-run snacks. In fact recovery is the only ray of sunshine so far in this whole sorry exercise.

I have learned that massage is now only painful rather than excruciating. I have discovered that a surprisingly large number of dogs roam the streets of our fine neighbourhood and none of them like runners. I have received a lot of advice from people driving past in cars. This advice has covered a wide range of topics from my running style, looks and how to improve the relationship with my parents - if I ever meet them. Lastly I have noticed that talking about my plan to run this half-marathon doesn't result in the adulation I expected.  In fact, it causes people's eyes to glaze over. Why are people so hard to impress?

On a serious note it was nice to run a personal best (pb) on my forty ninth birthday. I guess I'll keep going.

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25.01.2010

See that's why I like to run!

I tried a new circuit yesterday that saw me covering 8 km (longest distance so far) in 45 min 30 sec (quickest time so far).

Not only did I feel good the whole way but I ran my fastest time over the last three kilometres. Sure the Ethiopians and Kenyans aren't looking over their shoulders but at least my times are heading in the right direction.

The run also saw the welcome return of the 'runner's high'. If you haven't experienced an exercise induced 'drug high' you should. The body produces a range of home made pain killing chemicals that give you a real buzz. The problem is that you have to go through a bit of pain in order to get the hit. Still it's cheaper than the alternative and, so far, still legal.

Why did I ever stop running?

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22.01.2010

Remedial Massage! ... definately no happy ending here

"Right, strip to your undies and jump on the bed" she told me.

Now don't be concerned. This blog hasn't suddenly gone all adult entertainment. I recently got introduced to the wonderful world of remedial massage. You'd think that there wouldn't be much to say about getting a massage but .... well you'd be wrong!

Michelle is a great believer in massage and has been suggesting I try it for some time. Unfortunately she keeps saying I should go to a male massager to 'make me feel more comfortable'. Well. No. Actually that wouldn't make me feel more comfortable - wrong generation and upbringing you see. If I am going to get touched up, it will be by a woman thank you.

However my scepticism has been over taken by my paranoia about getting injured so I bit the bullet and rang the local 'alternative' 'wholistic' health thingamee and made a booking. Being a novice I asked Michelle what to expect. "Well" she said "you do have to nude up, or at least strip down to your underwear". "Make sure they're clean" she warned "no one likes nasty surprises!". After some serious thinking I decided I was 80% certain I could find a clean pair.

"Make sure you ask for lots of pressure, too many of them just pfaff about and that's no good" Michelle added. "Don't worry it won't hurt .... well it's a good hurt anyway".  Now anyone who starts talking like that really gets me worrying. It's just a bit too much like the old 'this will hurt me a lot more than it will hurt you' routine you got as a child and everyone knows it always hurt us more than it hurt them.

The day came and off I went fully confident that I wouldn't embarrass myself or anyone else.  The room was obviously set up to relax people and I was impressed with the gentle music, scented candles and soft lighting. I always look my best in soft or non-existent lighting. For the first time in many years a woman, other than a doctor or customs official, asked me to take my clothes off. This massage caper is quite pleasant I decided.

But then I hit my first problem. Looking at the 'massage table' I noticed a pillow at one end and a sort of toilet seat at the other. "Ok" I thought "which way do I lie down?". Being well brought up I know you don't put your feet on the pillow. But surely my feet aren't supposed to go in the toilet thingy? Now in these situations it is better to do nothing rather than the wrong thing so I sat on the table and waited.

Since I was 'sans clothes' I hit my second problem. You see the 'therapist' had left the room to 'lock the door' and this put me in an awkward spot. If she had stayed in the room I would have taken off my shirt and only had to suck in my gut for the time needed to remove my shorts and lie on the massage table. If I had taken my shorts off first this would be even easier. But there I was waiting for her to come back and having to watch the door so I knew when to ... well you know ... make myself look fitter.  I couldn't anticipate her arrival because if I got it wrong my gut would be going out just as she was coming in!

Anyway it all turned out well and I ended up lying in the right position. Now I know that you do put your feet on the pillow and your head on the toilet seat thingy. Ah head down the toilet, I haven't thought of primary school and bullies in years.  Having got the logistics right it was now time for the slap and tickle. I should point out that Deb is a lovely woman who looks like the sort of person who is nice to kids and animals. This is probably true but she also has the ability to inflict horrible, mind destroying and seemingly never ending pain. To start with, despite her small stature, Deb can crush ball bearings between her fingers. She also loves to find those little knots in your muscles and grind them until either you or they disappear.

Nothing up to this point had prepared me for the pain. "When I find a knot" Deb explained " I push on it as hard as I can for thirty seconds to send the brain a message to tell this muscle to relax". Well, I thought as I writhed in agony, my brain has got the message but it's not relax. "Just breath through the pain" Deb soothingly advised. Now I understand why men who say this to their wives during child birth receive a gob full of abuse in return. Breathing does no freakin' good. Looking through the toilet seat during this ordeal I could see a 'healing crystal' on the floor below me. 'Well don't just sit there you freakin' bit of hippie rock' I thought ' do something!'

Even though I didn't feel them before the massage I 'discovered' I had two large knots in my calves - one in each just to make it nice and even. I have been working on them myself since the massage to see if I can reduce them before I go and see the lovely Deb again. I decided one painful session isn't enough. I must be a masochist!

Ten runs down and no injury - not much but a start.

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18.01.2010

Man up! ... the gentle art of mental toughening

Running a half marathon requires both physical and mental strength. A lot of the 'advice' and information out there deals extensively with the physical aspects of distance running. There are training schedules, injury prevention strategies and nutrition advice. But what about the old noggin?

One of the websites I've seen had a quote from Henry Ford, "if you think you can or think you can't you are right". Which is a neat summary of the role the brain has in any achievement. This is no surprise for us AFL lovers who are used to hearing the commentators bangin' on about how a team's 'self belief' proved to be the difference on the day. So I accept that achievement lives or dies in the mind but how do you man up mentally?

Despite the massive size of the 'self esteem' industry it is the last place I would go to find answers. It has been way too successful in promoting the 'quaint' belief that wishing will make it so! Bollocks. Just believing has never, does not and will not lead automatically to success although I do agree that having enough confidence to get started is a requirement. Similarly the 'power of positive thinking' approach is completely ineffective at developing resilience and perseverance. I am going to need both of these things to have any hope of a decent performance at Windsor.

'Real' mental strength develops in a cyclical way. Confidence comes from skill or achievement and this, in turn, promotes further confidence, skill and effort. Applying this to my little mid-life crisis, it isn't enough to 'believe' that I can run 21km I have to actually do it. Worryingly I have seen training schedules (even the one on the Windsor site itself) that do not have you running the whole distance prior to the race. To me this is a fundamental mistake. I know the schedule authors believe that adrenaline will 'get you through' but it ignores a critical part of self belief. That is, knowing you can achieve because you have done it in training.

This lack is also repeated for the other elements required to complete a half marathon with any sort of style. To make sure I don't embarrass myself in front of thousands of poms I will need to develop an adequate 'race pace'. Obviously this will be a lot slower than the serious 'all prick and ribs' athletes but it must be quicker than a 'jog'.  But many of the training schedules I have seen don't contain any speed development at all.

I know it's all very well for me to criticise but what am I doing to man up? To start with I am not changing my normal routine. So all of my training is in addition to any activity I would normally undertake. I have, for example, done a training run on the same day as walking the dogs, watering all the fruit trees and vegies and building a compost pile. In addition, I have also attempted to get my body used to longer distances as quickly as possible.

On Sunday Michelle and I took our dogs on their usual 12km jaunt (which is a mixture of footpath, sand and bush track) as soon as we got back I went for a 6km run. This is the longest distance I have covered so far and means that I can cover some 18kms without any real problem. This is a real boost to my confidence this early in the training cycle. I will continue this approach until the combination of walk/ run equals 21km. Once that is done it will be a matter of replacing the walk bit with more running until I am running the whole distance. 

At some point I will need to introduce speed work into my routine. I have to confess I am not looking forward to it because with speed work will come all the 'I think I am going to be sick' fun of anaerobic training .... yeah I know ..... man up!

Eight runs down and no injury - not much but a start.

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10.01.2010

Oh ... you have to train for these things

There is a reason why people say ignorance is bliss. That's because if you don't know you are doing something wrong then you are relaxed and happy. The old bliss took a real pounding this week. I made the mistake of looking at half marathon training plans on the internet.....

The first thing I realised is that I have never trained for a run before - not I didn't train properly but I didn't train at all. Oh, there was plenty of activity just no training. My approach was basically run, then run some more. I would almost always have an over use or excessive training injury along the way but I would do enough so I could finish. While I was generally happy with my achievement I was always left with nagging doubts. Why did so many people pass me on the way? Why were people who I thought were around my level of fitness running better times than me?. Seems they had been doing 'real' training not the old 'hey, look at me I am training' training. Since not looking stupid in front of poms is one of my goals I might need to tackle this race just a bit differently.

All the training plans I have looked at have some things in common. They all involve rest. Good, I can do that ... I am an elite rester! They all involve variety in distances, pace and run layout. You do a long, medium and short runs. There is a bit too much hill work in some of the plans if you ask me but since I live in a bumpy area I am not going to be able to avoid doing at least some of it. Lastly they all use progression. Some are based on regular but small increases in distance but others appear to favour the 'shock and awe' of sudden and relatively large increases - one includes a 'long run' of over 12kms at the end of the first week!

That's the other problem with information once it's in your head you think you have to do something with it. So I will be developing my own training schedule over the next couple of weeks. It will have the core principles that seem to be necessary but I'm not rushing into it. This will allow me to continue creating a aerobic base and getting my body used to running regularly. It will also give me time to say goodbye to my old favourite but hopelessly inadequate way of doing things.

Five runs down and no injury - not much but a start.

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07.01.2010

I've done it now

Well that's it no turning back. I have officially entered the race. I just completed the online entry form and more importantly ordered the commemorative T shirt. Can you imagine the shame of wearing the T shirt and then having to admit that you didn't go in the race and it wasn't because of some horrendous injury. In the old days you could lie about a whole range of stuff but now getting found out is just an internet search away.....

Actually reading the fine print I think the organisers are used to people asking for their money back. One of the conditions says "Entry fees will not be refunded just because you entered on the spur of the moment and after doing a couple of runs you realise it's going to be harder than you think. Stop being a wimp and keep going you wee jessie". Ouch, how did they know what I was thinking?

All up it cost about $75 to enter which, due to the improving exchange rate, is less than it would have been last year. Thank the lord for England's tanking economy, may it continue into 2010!

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06.01.2010

What the hell was I thinking ?

"My first run was up to the shop and back. 4 kilometres in total over a flat course only interrupted by one small hill". ..... Bollocks!

It has savage undulations and a freakin' giant hill right at the start! Oh the pain ..... sob .... the paaaaiiiinnnnnn!

As you may have guessed things have become much harder as the reality of the years away from the running caper take their toll. The two days following my first run made me realise that despite walking the dogs my quads had basically been coasting. Just like ex-footballers they had been lyin' around getting fat and lazy while pretending that they are still attractive to young women.

The other thing I have noticed is that the wind changes direction so that it is always a head win. Running up to the shop - head wind. 'That's alright' you think 'I will have a tailwind on the way back'. Turn around and start heading back - head wind. What's the deal with that!? I always wondered why I hated topography and micro climates and now I know. Talking of micro climates, living in a rain shadow has some advantages at least I haven't had to run in the rain .... yet. 

Three runs down and no injury - not much but a start.

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01.01.2010

The first run

Staring at my new shoes didn't seem to be getting me any fitter I had to bite the bullet and take them outside. Standing in the carport holding my new shoes didn't seem to be getting me any fitter either .... damn ... I had to bite the bullet and actually go for a run ....

Everybody knows that if you haven't been exercising for a while the first time results in pain, a lot of pain. I really wasn't looking forward to this, not one bit. Still, as some famous philosopher once said " the longest journey begins with the first step". I want this journey to begin with my first step being into my car - I could drive the rest. Sigh ... there was nothing for it - I was going to have to be reintroduced to the world of chaffing.

One of the major traps for people who start exercising after a long layoff is that you go too hard too early and get injured. Injuries are discouraging as well as time consuming so this is one time when that old saying "an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure" really makes sense. Kids go and ask your parents what the words ounce and pound mean.

My first run was up to the shop and back. 4 kilometres in total over a flat course only interrupted by one small hill. While I didn't time the run I set a pace a bit above 'first time jog by an over weight middle aged man'. I felt pretty good aerobically. The long distance dog walking was paying off. My quads did feel a bit like jelly by the time I got back but importantly my left Achilles (the one damaged in the motorcycle accident) felt fine.

One run down and no injury - not much but a start.

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30.12.2009

Pimp my shoes!!

Doing as Gav suggested I went looking for a pair of running shoes for the first time in 13 years. I decided that, while I could buy shoes off the Internet, I could really benefit from some advice. Surely, I thought, the wonders of technology had been applied to footwear since the last time I ran and I would be able to buy shoes in which I could run an awesome time with the minimum of training. Maybe the boffins had invented a shoe that did away with the whole tiresome necessity of training all together? ....

I ventured into a specialty running shop and got served by the sort of pleasant, fit and impossibly young person you expect to find. After a bit of testing he recommended a stability shoe. Personally I thought I needed a sanity shoe but what the hell would I know?

He grabbed a pair of shoes off the shelf exclaiming "these are just the ones you need!". Seriously, they gave me a headache just looking at them. A sort of Flouro red and silver that screamed "drug dealer!". "Haven't you got anything a little less .... pimp?" I asked. He looked at me with a serious expression "they're red, don't you want to go fast?".

Having no answer to such a deep question all I could say was "I did an accounting degree and I am pretty sure I'm not allowed to wear shoes like that. " Fortunately we found a pair that did the stability thing without shouting "look at me I live off women!" and off I went .....

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28.12.2009

In the fattening paddock

Ok I have set the objective. Now it's time to begin to plan but first I need to take stock ....

This will be my first half marathon. I will be 50 in early 2011. The last time I ran any sort of race was 1996 or 1997 and it was around 10km. The last time I ran anywhere was a short funrun 3 years ago and that was about 5km. My legs hurt for days afterward. I am 'just a touch' over my fighting weight and have dodgy ankles, the result of a motorcycle accident and repeatedly rolling. I have an addiction to chocolate and Tasmanian wine. My meals are served at sizes that would shock your average American and most dietitians.

On the plus side I have a delightful personality and movie star good looks. Actually that's another thing, I have a tendency to believe and say things that are just not true. Lastly I have a track record of starting things, getting bored and going on to something else.

What can possibly go wrong?

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27.12.2009

A man with a plan?

Ok so I have agreed to something without knowing what the hell I am letting myself in for - no problems. I've done that before and probably will again. What's different this time is I'm actually going to record it warts and all. Hopefully anyone reading this running blog will realise that viewing the world and all it's antics from a couch is not such a bad move after all.

But having made a 'commitment' (who says men don't do commitment?) I decided I'd better find out a bit more about the Windsor Half Marathon. Every year in the last week of September up to 6,000 people gather to run 21 kilometres through the grounds of Windsor Castle. It's not the toughest half marathon in the world but it takes place in a wonderfully unique location. Not only is the route dominated by a magnificent castle but it is mere train ride from the wine regions of France, Italy, Germany, Spain and Portugal.

The official website has some information about the course and what to expect. It also has a suggested training schedule which I downloaded but didn't look at. The act of downloading a training schedule and thinking "I'll have a gander at that later" means that I have in fact started of my training schedule - see gettin' fitter already and  .... have I lost weight? ...... Yes! I think I have. 

Before I can begin to plan the rest of my training schedule I need to set an overall objective. I decided that I would set a modest goal. I intend to complete the 2010 Windsor Half Marathon without walking, vomiting or dying. It's important that I don't make a fool of myself in front of thousands of poms you see. Being a tight arse I want to achieve this with a minimum of expenditure and being lazy I want to have my achievement with a minimum of sweat, panting and chaffing. Of course, once the race is over it is over to France to drink wine for a month - I will have earned it.

That's enough exertion for one day there's a bottle of riesling upstairs just waiting for me to open ...

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