I DON'T LIKE RUNNING!!
For the most part I am a fat, lazy slob inside a (slightly tubby) athlete's body. I like food and I love beer. When I gave up smoking 20+ years ago I started to put weight on very quickly, probably because of all the biscuits I was eating as cigarette substitutes. I was a 20 a day man as a smoker and a 20 a day man as a Hob Nob eater!! I decided the best way to counteract this was through exercise and I took up running. I hated it instantly. I had measured a route of 3.7 miles in the car and decided that was a good place to start. Half way round this loop, I was a blubbering wreck, my lungs and legs resenting every step.
A slightly more sane person may have decided at that moment that maybe this wasn't such a good idea and look for something else. However, either the desire not to be a fatty or the primeval instinct to run great distances kicked in. A matter of a few weeks later I had watched the London Marathon on TV and, rather than thinking that would be nice but there's no way I could do it, decided that was a challenge I could rise to and had submitted my postal entry. It seems that fate was on my side as I managed to get a place at my first attempt and another distance runner was born.
I ran my first marathon in London on April 2nd 1994 and forced myself across the line in 4:30. I was unable to walk for 2 days following the 'race' even having to phone in sick on the Monday as I couldn't get down stairs. I had achieved the challenge I had set myself and, having done it, vowed I would never do another one. It really had hurt that much and I couldn't see myself going through that pain again. In fact it was another 2 years before I did my second one and that was mainly due to the lure of Barcelona and the opportunity to run in the Olympic Stadium. I faired slightly better, getting round in 3:38, not experiencing the pain of 2 years ago and even managing a sprint finish over the last 200mtrs in true Olympic fashion. I have since covered the marathon distance or more 40 times.
Since that first short run of 3.7 miles, I estimate (using my MapMyRun stats as a base) that I have covered approximately 19,000 further miles. It's unfair to say that I have hated every single mile as, given the right set of circumstances, running is an absolute pleasure. When I'm on a trail, the sun is shining, there is little wind and the endorphins are flowing it's a great feeling to be out and about, especially if I record a good time. There are runs that are memorable - the aforementioned experience in Barcelona,flying down the Embankment and Birdcage walk like a Kenyan on the way to a marathon PB, the last 20 miles of the long stage and the marathon stage on MdS and a training run in the rain on Llanddwyn Beach when I worked out how I was going to ask Claire out on a date.
There are other times, however, when I really just cannot be arsed. I don't want to go through the hassle of getting changed, I don't want to go out when it's windy and I resent the smell of sweaty running clothes, especially when I have to put them on the following day. This week, for instance, I overdid it on the ascent of Snowdon and had very sore quads for the rest of the week. The reason being I had to get 82.25km, including 1640mtrs of ascent in to complete the latest G2G Challenge.
And that pretty much sums me up. If there is no challenge, I won't bother myself to train and will turn to the default setting of beer and junk food. This is why I enter what some people call 'mad events' and why I am very grateful for the guys who dreamt up the G2G series of challenges. There's no obligation for me to do them but they save me from myself.
So there it is. I don't like running but can't resist a challenge. So long may they keep coming, I'll keep taking them on and avoid having to buy trousers with elasticated waistbands!
Time for a beer...
...or a run!!
