A Cut Above (and below, and pretty much everywhere else)

A new year is almost upon us, and soon it will be roughly three-and-a-half months until the marathon.

In the new year I will have to start emailing (read: begging) people for sponsorship. I have a feeling that raising the sponsorship money might be more difficult the second time round - there is this thing called "donor fatigue" - I did a fantastic job in the 2011 marathon raising over £3500, but it is not unusual to find a second attempt at the marathon, particularly without a gap after the first, a lot harder to raise sponsorship. Doing the marathon the first time, people were more than willing to donate - me taking part in some form of exercise was something of a novelty and as a result the money came flowing in. This time round, there is no novelty, and it is only a year after the first marathon, although the fact that I have completed one marathon should give potential donors lots of confidence in me being able to complete a second marathon. It's also down to the effects of the recession on fundraising and people are sealing up their wallets, quite understandably. Whatever happens, I am sure that I will raise the necessary funds. In fact, my ambition is to raise more money than in 2011's marathon. It's a lofty ambition but I am sure that it can be done.

My training is going well. The days are getting colder, the weather is getting worse and the nights are coming in earlier but I have still managed to get my fair share of training in. I have come back to my hometown in Essex over the Christmas holidays to spend time with my family and in my suitcase I brought with me my running gear. Marathon training doesn't take a holiday, I'm afraid. In fact, I spent Christmas Eve and Christmas Day doing a few miles on the treadmill in the gym so hopefully nobody can question my determination!

Yesterday I did some more training, not on the treadmill but on the streets again. Admittedly it was not one of the better training sessions I've had. In fact, it probably ranks among the worst. I've run in the pouring rain, I've been chased by dogs, nearly been hit by cars, but through all that, I was at least able to say that I managed to stay on my feet. Yesterday, I suffered the ignominy of falling over while on a run. I'm deeply embarrassed. It's all rather humiliating.

I was running through Chigwell and in an effort to avoid people walking on the pavement ahead, I moved to run alongside them but tripped over something and fell to the ground. I suffered cuts to my left wrist, right hand, some of my fingers, waist, elbows and my left knee. My left knee also has a particularly nasty bruise. I quickly picked myself up again and continued running for another six miles, bleeding and in slight pain. It would probably have been a better idea to go straight home after that fall but it's going to take more than a few cuts and bruises to make me give up once I've got going. It was mainly my pride that was hurt. The cuts and bruises actually hurt more when I'd got home again and put witch hazel on them and took a shower. I have a few plasters now on my various places and I've learned now to be a bit more careful in future when running. I guess you have to suffer for your art, if marathon running can be described as an art form.

Here I Go Again

Hello there.

It has been nearly seven months since I last put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, anyway) but to be fair, I thought I would wait until I actually had something remotely interesting to write about. Perhaps I waited too long because I have rather a lot to mention.

Firstly, I am no longer living in leafy Woodford, Essex. I now find myself in the exotic climes of the North of Manchester as I got offered a better job in Salford and I decided to take the opportunity to move on to pastures new and hopefully greener. So far, so great. I am really enjoying my new role. I'm being constantly challenged. I learn something new often. I develop my skills as I go along. I develop more responsibility and confidence as a result. My manager sets me goals periodically. The team I work with are an exceptionally lovely bunch. Basically I feel valued, appreciated and respected and I feel like I am going somewhere rather than merely treading water and going through the motions as I was starting to feel in my previous department.
I am also enjoying my new life and independence up here, being able to do what I want, whenever I want, wherever I want, and to whomever I want. I miss my family and friends who are all back down in London, but I sure as Hell don't miss London. It's overcrowded, overrated, nobody has time for anybody, everybody's in a rush. Manchester, for all its perceived flaws is a really nice city to live in. The locals are friendly, the pace of life is a bit slower, so you start to appreciate some of the finer things in life, and the scenery isn't bad either.

The last bit there, I can say with confidence as I've been going around Manchester, getting around my local area and slightly further afield. Much of this, I've been doing on foot. Yes, folks, I'm still running. I find time to go running at least one weekday each week, during my lunch break at work, and it allows me to take in a quite scenic view of the Salford Quays as well as letting off a bit of stress from work. It gives me something to talk about with my colleagues, and people that I don't personally know recognise me every time they see me going for a run. I'm basically the dark-haired, breathless, sweat-stained idiot running around in circles, wearing the same blue running shirt and turning a funny shade of crimson through overexerting myself. I also find the time to do a longer run at the weekend in Prestwich, where I'm currently living, and that's given me the ideal opportunity to explore the streets in and around my local area and really familiarise myself with the geography of my town. Just last weekend, I ran from my flat in Prestwich, down the A56 (better known as the Bury New Road - it's a very long road that, as the name suggests, runs from Bury to Manchester), into Manchester city centre. Then I turned back and ran all the way back to Prestwich, and ran further North down the other end of the Bury New Road to Bury. Then having reached Bury town centre, I ran back home to Prestwich again down the Bury New Road. Eighteen miles in all. I don't know about Bury New Road, but it's certainly a Very Long Road. I found that run as enjoyable as I found it exhausting.

And why, I hear you ask, am I running eighteen miles again? Have I taken leave of my senses? Am I trying to save money by travelling on foot instead of by car? The real answer is that I have applied for a place in the 2012 London Marathon and have been awarded one with the charity of my choice. It's a different charity from 2011 but prosaically speaking it is actually the same charity but with a different name. The charity formerly known as the RNID (Royal National Institute for the Deaf) is now currently known as Action on Hearing Loss. So, to all intents and purposes, I have effectively resumed my training.

Why am I going through this all over again? I think Einstein, assuming that the quote has been correctly attributed to him, defined insanity as "doing the same thing over and over again expecting to get different results." I'm expecting the same result, insofar as I'd like to complete the marathon again, but hoping for a different result inasmuch as I ran the 2011 Marathon in 4hrs 47 minutes and raised over £3500 and now I'd like to do even better than that this time round.
I've done the marathon once, what more do I need to prove? I guess what I'm trying to say is that I don't have anything else I need to prove, but now that I've done the marathon, the next logical step is to attempt it again, and complete it in a faster time than in the previous year, and raise more money in the process. So that is my goal. The faster time, I can achieve by putting in all the training and effort, but as for raising the money, I will need help from my friends, sponsors and well-wishers.

Doing the 2011 London Marathon was a huge learning curve for me, a very steep learning curve, steeper even than that hill down Roding Lane North that helped me build up my stamina when it came to uphill running. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. I learned so much when I was training for the 2011 marathon. The experience proved invaluable, as did the advice that I received from other runners, the things that I taught myself, and the mistakes that I made. I can train for the 2012 London Marathon knowing everything that I learned the hard way from training for the 2011 London Marathon, and hopefully the end result will be as successful (as far as completing the marathon is concerned, but more successful in that I complete it with a much improved finishing time and raise even more money for a worthy cause).

The London Marathon

Hi everybody.

I completed the London Marathon in 4 hours, 47 minutes and 47 seconds. I am very pleased with this time because I had only recently just come back from injury, having done very little training in the period of 16^th March-16^th April and almost literally jumped straight into the marathon. Obviously I’m slightly disappointed that the month’s absence from training owing to my injury meant that I was not fully fit and therefore my finishing time was not as quick as I would have liked it to be, but I think that it is amazing to have finished the race with that time, despite everything that had happened. Face it, I could have been a lot slower. And at any rate, this surely gives me a wonderful incentive to apply for next year’s London Marathon so that I can do better.

So, here’s how the day began.

I woke up at 5.30 on Sunday 17^th April after having gone to sleep at 10pm the night before. I needed all the rest I can get before what was going to be a very gruelling day. I went downstairs and had a bowl of Kellogg’s Start and a banana. Bananas have potassium in them and they give you lots of energy. They’re also incredibly easy to use. Just peel and eat. Easy.

At 7.15, I met my uncle at Woodford station who is also running the marathon. While this was my first marathon, for him this was his 4^th, which makes him a veteran when it comes to marathons. Even more of a veteran is his uncle, who ran his 20^th marathon and, at the age of 86 was the oldest runner in the race!

Together, my uncle and I went on the Central Line to Stratford and then changed to the Docklands Light Railway, where we took a (light) train to Greenwich. We arrive at Greenwich Park at about 8.30, where I separated from my uncle, who is starting at a different point. I met up with other runners from the RNID and we introduced ourselves to each other. I then spent the next hour or so doing my various stretches and queuing impatiently for the toilets to relieve myself of any last-minute nerves. Once again, the reality of what was about to do started to hit me. I tied my timing chip to my shoe. The device is important because it will time precisely how long it takes me to run the route from the start line to the finish line as soon as I cross both – this is as opposed to when the starting gun is fired, because there can be a time delay between the gun being fired and me crossing the line, which would distort my finish time and make it appear as if I was running for longer than I had been.

And they’re off! At 9.45, the marathon officially begins. But due to the sheer number of people taking part, it’s another 20 minutes before I actually cross the start line and begin running. The race started off well. Stomping the streets of Blackheath, then moving into Charlton. At the two-mile point, I saw a lady that I work with. A few of my colleagues, family and friends had told me in advance where they would be around the route, and this really helped my confidence, knowing that soon I would be approaching yet another familiar face.

We get to mile 5 now. It’s a pretty good run so far. Although I have crossed the 5 mile marker, my watch tells me that I have in fact run 5.3 miles. This is because I have zig-zagged across the roads, trying to circumnavigate the bodies of those running slower than me. I don’t feel breathless yet or feel the need to stop, but I am aware that my fitness might be lacking slightly due to having to take a month out of training because of my foot injury. I can take comfort in the fact that my foot is causing me absolutely no problems at all on the day.

At around the 7-mile mark, I saw my uncle. I recognised the back of his running shirt and the back of his head. He gave me encouragement as I overtook him.

Getting to mile 10 caused me no problems whatsoever. Everything was still going very smoothly. I felt no pain at this stage. The spectators seem to get noisier by the minute. It works though as their cheers are really spurring me on.

By the time I got to mile 12, I was starting to flag a little bit. The weather is quite a lot hotter than I had expected it to be. I was informed by the weather forecast that the temperature would be 14°C. I don’t know what the temperature was, but it was much hotter than 14°C. I drink plenty of water to keep me hydrated, but I am starting to feel some discomfort. As I am slowing down, I see that I am approaching Tower Bridge and such an amazing landmark in sight only serves to speed me up again. A patriotic Brit as ever.

At the halfway point, I find that I have clocked up 13 miles in 2 hours and 4 minutes. I knew that if I could complete the latter half of the marathon with the same pace, I should finish with a very good time. I also knew that realistically, I was going to get progressively slower as fatigue set in. So 4 hours and 8 minutes became less practical and 4 hours 15 minutes seemed more reasonable. But as time went on, even that seemed difficult to achieve, what with the searing heat and not being on top form. 4 hours 30 minutes became the new target. Then I saw the crowds cheering me on and I realised that I didn’t need to get bogged down with timings and such like – it would be an incredible honour and achievement to just finish the race, no matter how fast or slow.

Having now moved North of the River Thames, I am running through the Docklands. At around mile 17, I see my family, including my dad and my brother, just coming out of Mudchute station on the DLR. If had been running any faster, they would have missed me completely!

As we get to mile 20, things start to get very difficult. It becomes harder to run long distances without needing to walk for a bit. My legs seemingly turn to stone. I start to get overtaken by people wearing ridiculous costumes. I carry on regardless. Ultimately I have to start walking more and more, which is dispiriting but I felt no shame in doing that. Virtually every other participant in the race had to walk at some point, I would guarantee it. Those last five or six miles were sheer torture at times, and when I think back to it, it seems to have gone by so quickly, but my recollection of it at the time was that this last stretch took ages to get through.

At mile 24 or 25, I see my family on the Embankment and that spurs me on again. I stop for a photograph or two, as it would not have done any harm to savour the moment. I then turned into Westminster and the Mall for my sprint finish. The last mile or so along the Embankment and Westminster seemed horribly longer than I had previously thought it would be. It just kept going on and on and on.

Somehow, I cross the finish line with a time of 4hrs 47mins and 47secs which, as I said, I’m very happy with. I smell of sweat, my face and back are sunburned, I have blisters on several of my toes and I can barely move my legs but I feel an amazing sense of achievement. Job done.

There are two sides to the marathon. One is the physical side, the running part. The other is the fundraising part, and I can say at this stage that I have more than exceeded my £2000 target. As things stand, we are on more than £2800, and £3000 is looking likely. I would never have imagined it in a million years.

So, what next?

I’m conflicted.

My heart says "never again!" but my brain says "come on, next year we can beat this year’s time!"

Charity Case

It is tomorrow.

The London Marathon has fast approached with the momentum of a runaway locomotive. I say, those eight months of training went by quickly, didn’t they? Well, here we are now. I have almost met my £2000 target for the charity of my choice.

Things are really building up. Although my fitness is not at its best owing to a lack of training in the wake of my injury, I’ve come a long way since the days where I couldn’t run two or three miles without being hopelessly out of breath. My runs have been getting longer and longer. It’s getting rather odd when you now consider a 6-mile run to be a “short run.” In actual fact, 6 miles is a very long distance, but compared to my longer weekend runs of 14-20 miles, 6 miles is very short!

Aside from all the training I’ve done solo in my local area, I’ve taken part in a 10km race in Southend, and a half-marathon in Roding Valley. Entering the races has without a doubt helped me acclimatise to the conditions of a typical race, so that it won’t seem all too alien to me when I run the London Marathon. At the same time, doing those races sometimes brings out the worst in me. There’s a bit of a competitive spirit inside of me and occasionally my competitive nature gets the better of me and I feel compelled to run faster than I really ought to. I tell myself “it’s not a race, just go at your own pace. You’re just practising for the marathon.” Then I realise, “hey, this IS a race! Show these other runners what you’re made of!” And I then get carried away. So I will have to be careful not to let myself be influenced or intimidated by other runners who speed past me with apparent ease. Especially those in the silly costumes. I will hopefully take my own advice and go at my own pace. I will relax and enjoy the marathon. There really is little point in doing it if it is going to be a long, arduous and torturous slog. At the same time, I won’t take the whole thing too lightly. I’ve pledged to raise a large sum of money for a deserving cause and I am taking this responsibility seriously. This is highly unusual for me, since I tend not to take anything seriously in life.

Today I shall just relax and conserve my energy for tomorrow. Lots of carbohydrate will be eaten today, in the form of pasta, which just happens to be my favourite food. I do love Italian food. I've also been drinking plenty of water to keep me hydrated over today and tomorrow, and I will keep drinking water regularly tomorrow. Not too much water though - wouldn't want to get hyponotraemia. Early night for me tonight as well. I'm going to meet my uncle Mark at a nearby Underground station tomorrow morning at 7.15, so I will probably wake myself up at 5.30 or 6am, which will give me enough time to eat some breakfast, get everything out of my system, and prepare myself mentally and then get on the train nice and early.
Upon arrival in Greenwich, we'll both continue our preparations and steel ourselves up for the big race. Unfortunately we're not going to be together at the start as we have been allocated different starting places. My uncle was one of the lucky ones who got a place in the marathon through the ballot, whereas I got my place via a charity. We run at different speeds though, so even if we had been together at the start, it wouldn't be for very long.
Not only my uncle, but my uncle's uncle is also running in tomorrow's marathon. He also happens to be the oldest participant in this year's race, and this, at the sprightly age of 86, is his 20th marathon. He's a legend and a real inspiration and he is one of the reasons why I'm running in the marathon. After all, if he can do it, then surely anybody else can. It proves that age is no barrier, as he started running in his 60s.

Last thing before I run the marathon tomorrow - thank you to everybody who has sponsored me and/or given me their best wishes. It is all very much appreciated. If you have not sponsored me yet, and would like to, you can do so online at: http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/martinpampel

This is Martin Pampel, runner 46411, signing off. At least until tomorrow anyway. I will update again on the marathon after I've finished the marathon, assuming that 1) I finish it, and 2) I have regained the strength to get up the stairs of my house and use a computer.

Well, wish me luck. I'm going to bloody well need it!

Indecent Expo-sure

Hooray! At long last, it looks like my foot is better. What took it so long? The important thing is that it is better, although it's probably too late now to get in any extra pre-marathon training as I'm unlikely to benefit from any this close to the race.

I visited the physiotherapist again the other day. It was a different lady this time but the treatment was the same. More stretches, more gentle massaging, more rubbing of lubricating jelly on my leg with the ultrasound. Apparently it’s not quite like the ultrasound given to pregnant mothers as I asked the physiotherapist, so this time I definitely didn’t ask if I was getting a boy or a girl.

Earlier today, I visited the London Marathon Expo. It's a huge exhibition where exhibitors exhibit their products and services in relation to the London Marathon, from sports drinks to sportswear to watches and all sorts of crazy gizmos. It is being held at the ExCeL Centre, by Custom House station on the Docklands Light Railway. Just done some research, and apparently, ExCeL stands for Exhibition Centre, London. You heard it here first. The Expo is open for four days between Wednesday and Saturday, but today was the only day in which I was actually free to visit. There, I officially register in the race and collect my chip and my running number and kit bag, all in preparation for the big day on Sunday.
The building was huge. Absolutely enormous. The exhibition itself was also enormous. So many stands, so many products being sold. It was all rather overwhelming.

The first thing I did when arriving was get my name printed on my running vest so that people can see my name as I run along and call out my name, either to motivate or heckle me. It now has my name on it, in big, bold, black lettering, on both the front and the back and I’ll be wearing it on Sunday with pride. Pride and nervousness. And plenty of sweat.

I helped myself to lots of freebies – mainly energy bars and energy sweets, bits of cake and so on. So much so, I didn’t need to make myself any dinner when I got home at 7.30pm because I was full up!

I learned plenty at the exhibition. From the man at the Lucozade stand, you cannot really expect to complete a marathon on water alone. You need carbohydrate and sugar to keep you going. He would say that, though. He’s trying to sell a product. I suppose he has a point though. I’ve run 21 miles just on water and although I did manage to keep myself going, I’m not sure I could have managed 26. By the time I finished that 21-mile run, I was almost delirious.
So that’s one thing learned – take energy foods/drink with me, whether in the form of sweets or gel or whatever works. I was warned by my uncle to be careful with some of these, and never try anything during the marathon that you haven’t already tried in training. Especially when it comes to energy drinks and gels. There is this phenomenon known as the “runner’s tummy” or “runner’s trots.” All that running has an effect on the abdomen, making it more likely that you’ll need to use the toilet. If you’re running for two, three four, five, six, seven, et cetera hours continuously, that can have quite an effect, and consuming something that you are not used to can exacerbate it. My uncle also advised bringing toilet paper with me “in case you need the toilet and there’s no toilet paper there.” So after my uncle’s warning, I am now paranoid that if I’m not careful, I will end up shitting myself in front of a crowd and TV audience of millions.

Let's Get Physio

Visited the physiotherapist this morning to see if there was anything that she could do for me, in the final stretch leading up to the marathon. I have been prodded, poked, probed, twisted, bent double and been subjected to a barrage of questions. Upon inspection, there doesn’t seem to be any real damage and the foot itself is fine. The physiotherapist recommended a few stretches that I shall do to help me. Then she rubbed some lubricating jelly-like substance onto my lower leg and gave me an ultrasound. I was half-tempted to ask if I was going to have a boy or a girl. Following that, she stuck some patches onto my leg and plugged electrodes to them and sent an electric current through me for about fifteen minutes. Overall, I think it helped, and I am going back there on Tuesday evening. I think I’m going to be all right now.

I turned up at my secondary school on Wednesday. I attended that school between the years of 1995 and 2002, so it had been a fair while since I was last on the premises! Some of the pupils there were taking part in a sponsored run in the streets surrounding the school, all to benefit my marathon fundraising. The whole thing had been carefully planned and coordinated as if it were a military operation. I was asked to come along in order to give the proceedings a bit more authenticity. It is, after all, better for the pupils doing the running to see who they are doing it for. By meeting them and explaining why I was running the marathon for the RNID, it gave them a sense of perspective. I think. I hope. It was a lovely day for a run, and the kids really got into the spirit of things, even the ones, who I was told weren’t particularly known for making much movement!

At the end of an hour’s running (or walking as some chose to do), I awarded a prize to the person that had run the most laps of the school perimeter (seven). I also awarded a prize to the best costume – the decision was easy. It was a blonde lad who had decided to put on a nice pink bra. I figured that anybody who had the sheer gall to run around the local streets sporting a bright pink brassiere deserves a prize for his efforts.

The local paper never did turn up. I guess they didn’t consider the story remotely newsworthy. A shame really. It kind of belittled the sterling effort put in by the kids who really did work hard. I was not expecting much money to be raised from the afternoon, but I was told that between everybody, an astonishing £250-£300 was raised. Fantastic, really, and very much appreciated.

So you’re thinking: “enough about the bloody children and their running. We want to know about you!” OK. Since my last post, I’ve done a bit more running and a bit more resting, and I think it’s fair to say that my foot is very nearly healed. There’s no question of me pulling out of the marathon. Definitely not. Most certainly not. I will cross that finish line by any means necessary, fair or unfair. Perhaps this injury was a blessing in disguise. Before I became injured, I was beginning to become complacent, and rather getting bored of the long runs every weekend. Now this has made me more determined than ever. It’s fuelled a great anger and burning desire to complete the race. As I said in one of my first posts, this is going to be my first marathon and as such, I don’t have a finishing time in mind. I just want to complete the bloody thing. As my running technique improved, I did start to get a finishing time in my head – but that can wait for another year. This is my first marathon and I don’t have a time to beat; that can come next year when I attempt to beat whatever my time will be this year.

Running Wounds All Heels

Apologies for the sporadic updates. I've spent the last week or so not training, allowing my foot to get better. It is in fact feeling much better now as I went out for a short run earlier and managed to run for three miles. I did not intend to cover a further distance as I didn't want to overdo it just as soon as I'd recovered. I could still feel my foot playing up a little, but it was not painful in the least so I think it's more or less better. I'm thinking that if I can run three miles on it now, I should certainly be able to run 26 miles on it in two weeks' time.
That reminds me. The marathon is now but a mere fortnight away. What worries me now is not just my foot but my fitness. Having not run for over a week until today, I could tell that I was clearly not as fit as I was prior to hurting my foot. Which is to be expected really. So I shall have to build up my fitness a bit more over the next two weeks but without putting any additional pressure on my foot.

The fundraising is going very well now. I've raised more than half of my £2000 target. I'm nearly 70% of the way there. Technically speaking, I am actually 68.6% of the way there. Many of the recent donors have been people that I work with and people from the religious community. I'm grateful for whatever money I can get from whoever wants to donate, and the address is http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/martinpampel for whoever wants to make a donation.

I will be visiting my old secondary school later this week because some of the pupils there are doing some fundraising of their own to help me out, thanks to one of the teachers at the school who I am still in touch with now. I think the kids are doing a sponsored run around the school perimeter, which should be interesting. There might be local press in attendance. Hope I don't get interviewed as I will have to think very carefully about what I say because I'm more gaffe-prone than Prince Philip and Boris Johnson combined.

Anyway, looking forward to the marathon now. I think I have a very good chance of crossing that finish line, however long it takes me. All I can do is my best.

Trouble A-foot

The recovery from my foot injury is going slowly but surely. I was able to run for a mile and a half last night, though the foot still needs more rest. At times it felt like I was dragging my bad foot behind me like a deadweight. Obviously I need more time for the foot to heal, but I am quietly hopeful that it will improve and I will be able do some more training before the marathon takes place. The next time I train, I will try and up the distance to two miles, then five miles after that, and then on to ten miles and hopefully fifteen or twenty, and I should be back on form again.

I am a bit conflicted though. I have got to let this foot recover, but I can't go too long without training this close to the main event, even though you are supposed to taper down the training at this stage. I'm doing everything possible to expedite my recovery. I am regularly pressing ice packs against my foot, running the foot under a scalding hot shower and using tonnes and tonnes of Deep Heat (confidentially, that stuff really stinks). I don't know if any of the above is actually making a difference but I'll try anything to accelerate my recovery. Painkillers, alternative medicine, praying to Him Upstairs, whatever works.
Anybody got any suggestions?
Anybody?
Anyone?
God?

Injury Time

My fears have been confirmed and I am down, injured.

I went to the hospital on Wednesday afternoon, to the Accident and Emergency department while it was quiet at work (yes, I got permission from my manager!). Surprisingly I only had to wait for about half an hour to be seen. Say what you like about the NHS. It’s a mess but the staff, doctors, nurses, porters, et cetera, do a creditable job under extremely difficult circumstances.

I was called in by the doctor. I had rather a lot of difficulty trying to understand what he was saying. He had a very strong accent. I am not sure what accent he spoke in. It was probably Eastern European but for all I know, it could have been South African. You know, I can’t even tell a Scots accent from an Irish one.

To cut a long story short, the doctor told me that I had tendonitis. Or tendinitis. I’ve seen both spellings. I’m not sure which is correct. It refers to the tendon, so surely tendonitis should be the spelling to employ. The doctor said that I should rest my foot, carry on walking as normal, and it should be healed in a week or two. Or at least, that is what I think I heard him say.

As things stand, I can feel my foot slowly getting better, in that it’s nowhere near as painful to walk and I’m no longer walking ‘funny.’ I hope the recovery is a speedy one, but I will have to take care not to jump back into the running too soon, otherwise I risk aggravating the situation. My cousin made the valid point that perhaps the injury has come at the right time: with a month to go until the marathon, I should be winding down the training. You are supposed to cut down on your training a few weeks before the marathon, and as I have already done the bulk of my training, my situation is perhaps not too dire.

The whole thing has shaken me and affected my confidence a little. It has made me realise that I am not apparently indestructible after all and that I have to watch myself a bit more. I’ve subsequently had to pull out of the Brentwood half-marathon that I was planning to run, which is disappointing (that’s twenty quid I’ll never get back!) but I’m hopeful and positive that all will be well come the marathon itself in a month’s time. I’ve trained too hard for too long to see it all come to nothing. I will run that marathon and cross the finish line, come hell or (more relevantly, given recent circumstances in the Far East) high water.

Scrambled Aches

It looks like my 'off day' the other day was just that, an 'off day.' A mere, trivial, inconsequential little blip. From an off day to a day off, yesterday I was on leave from work, trying to use up my remaining annual leave before the end of the financial year.

I spent most of yesterday in the gym. This was the Esporta in Repton Park, or as I prefer to call it "the gym and health centre for people with more money than sense." I'm not a fan of gymnasia(?? Gymnasiums??) in general, probably due to my own little insecurities meaning that inevitably I'm going to be comparing myself unfavourably to other, fitter members of the gym, despite the fact that I think I am relatively fit and have a nice body as it currently is. I dislike this gym in particular because the membership fees are tantamount to extortion and can't fathom for the life of me why anybody would be willing to pay such silly money for a yearly membership. (Fortunately I had a free day pass so I took advantage of it and didn't have to pay a single penny.) Granted, it is a very nice looking gym, and the swimming pool is lovely. In fact, I think it is because of that lovely swimming pool that the prices are so steep. Perhaps there's nothing inherently wrong with the gym and I just have an irrational loathing of gyms.

Anyway, back on topic, aside from doing some bicep curls and shoulder presses, I ran on the treadmill for an hour, and although the silly treadmill only measured my distance in kilometres, I think that I must have run for about seven miles, give or take. Hopefully I am back on form. Despite the air conditioning in the room, I was completely drenched in my own sweat by the end of my little stint on the treadmill. Never, in all my months of running have I managed to sweat so profusely. You could have wrung entire buckets full of water out of my sweaty shirt and bottled the stuff up as L'eau de Martin. I am actually rather impressed that I ran on the treadmill for an hour since it is extraordinarily odd for me to be able to run on the same spot for such a long time. Normally I dislike treadmills because you are essentially running on the same spot for ages, and despite listening to music or looking at the TV screens in front of you, it is still a very boring activity, just running and not actually going anywhere. Maybe I misjudged the humble treadmill and perhaps I will use one more often in the future, instead of taking to the streets all the time.

I also did a short run this evening as part of my regular training (four miles). At the end of the run, I felt a dull pain in my right foot. Actually, it wasn't quite the foot. It wasn't the ankle either. It was somewhere in the lower leg, approaching the foot, but isn't the foot or the ankle. I'm not a specialist in podiatry so I have no idea what the problem is but it is giving me cause for concern and I do hope it heals up soon, preferably before this half-marathon on Sunday. To be frank, I'm quite surprised that it has taken me this long to injure myself again. I thought it would happen much sooner. I am crossing my fingers, toes, and any other body part that can reasonably be crossed, in the hope that everything will soon be all right. So for now, plenty of rest for this foot of mine.

I won't get all melodramatic about my foot ("Woe is me!" "Why do bad things always happen to me?" et cetera, et cetera) because, to put things in perspective, thousands of people have been killed in an earthquake and tsunami in Japan, so to complain about my foot with all this tragedy going on seems downright petulant and perverse at best.