Sunday March 1, 2009

It's snow joke this running lark you know.

Get it, SNOW JOKE, not that funny ha? Oh I get it, not funny at all. Well you appear to be correct once again. What do I know? Well I’ll tell you what I do know. I know that due to the fact that the wintry conditions i.e. snow, sleet, frozen ice invited themselves to the party, even though their names weren’t on the list (I checked myself, sad I know but oh well), the next best known running men to the 118 guys and Arnie, mister I’ll be back himself, have come across a bit of a problem. Due to safety conditions we have been forced into a quarantine situation, locked inside Michael's studio, getting ourselves reacquainted with a treadmill.

No more all weathers hitting my face, legs or muscles. Just the luxury of a warm, air-conditioned gym. Well that and the relentless torture my legs were going through. All good though, cos I won the battle between man and machine, something that even Arnie has found a challenge.



Looking back I suppose my relationship with the speed machine did enable me to run faster (Well what else was it supposed to do?), my nemesis, my Achilles heel, SPEED, was getting less and less out of reach by the day.

Two and a half weeks later, the snow had vanished but my spirit hadn't. As GEORGE MICHAEL would say "let's go outside".

The park has become what I can only describe as a magnet to me. Once again I was attracted to its charm and beauty and the paths that tend to lead to know where or everywhere, somewhere at least.

We'd completed five miles, five more to go till I’m auditioning for the FATIGUE FACTOR, with only myself to judge, didn't notice SIMON COWELL running alongside me anyway, I would've noticed cos he'd probably have given me a two for my efforts. Today was going to be the thirteen mile day (still can't find that particular day on any calendar, guess I’ll just keep looking, gullible I aren’t). Michael wanted us to reach our fifteen mile target, it seemed that today was as good a day as any to try and accomplish this foreboding task. Not gonna lie to you, we're friends now. I was struggling, breathing pretty heavily, facing new territory, a space I haven't been in, a place I haven't been to since two thousand six to seven. That's a long time in running circles (ha another joke, running circles, running in circles, get it?), oh come on give a guy some credit.

I was home aching, recovering, suffering on the outside but laughing on the inside cos I’d just completed my first fifteen miles in twenty four months..

No time to sit and relax, well not for too long anyway. I had a date with destiny, a meeting of mind and body with the lovely sixteen miles. I wasn't sure how I would feel after running that kind of distance for some time. I soon found out. The answer was revealed to me all too bluntly and to top it all, I never even had time to phone a friend, BANG, winded by a blow to the stomach, CRASH, total collapse of all senses, WALLOP, dazed, dizzy and died at least twice already. Felt like BATMAN had been in the same room and he didn't need any help from ROBIN either. As Michael said "Mark you're in a bad way". Well tell me something I don't know.

I had to try something different to get myself through this, I had to try harder, and the hardest I’ve ever tried.

The recovery was complete. I was beginning to come back to life, bit by bit. My following target was twenty miles, four more than my previous ordeal.. Could I do it? This time I didn't even know. A sure, confident man was playing a game of Russian roulette, pulling the trigger, facing the barrel; this man had become unsure, less confident, less in control. The future was yet to be decided, a scary moment, visiting once more that bad place.

We took energy sachets at five, ten and fifteen mile intervals. Nice fruity flavours, nice time had. The sachets gave us the much needed energy boosts our bodies were calling out for. At thirteen and a half miles I began to feel tiredness setting in, a whole mile better than last time. Running at a comfortable pace I was doing this. Not suffering elements of severe fatigue but instead managing to run, breathe and even talk a little, coherently. I had this feeling it was going well after the first ten miles, I didn't consume a single drop of water, no liquid touched my lips, I just didn't seem to need any. Surely this was a good sign.

We reached sixteen miles, yes it wasn't the best or the most fun place to be but I wasn't in such a bad place either. A happy medium. All good so far, nothing can go wrong now surely?

OUCH,OUCH and OUCH again, going over my previous sixteen mile nightmare, it happened.

A huge, unforgiving muscle cramp tore through my right calve causing painful spasm after spasm, forcing me to stop and rest. Just in case I’m not explaining myself clearly enough, it was KILLING me. All I could do was hobble off, limping, wobbling and suffering. Someone out there didn't like me that day. No I was not going to let this beat me. Utilising the support and advice Michael was giving me, I continued onwards, running but at a slower pace, best I could do on the day, we had to get home sometime. I knew then that I wasn't going to reach my twenty mile target. The best I could muster was a mere eighteen miles, still an excellent achievement though I felt gutted that I’d let the twenty miles fall from my grasp.

One month and a bit to go. Eight miles left to conquer.

Next time I will hopefully be sharing with the wondrous details of how I conquered my twenty mile target which up until now still remains somewhat illusive.

To find out more about donating, this blog and my videos visit the Create Yourself Run London 09 page here.