Sunday, 30 March 2014

A week to go

This time next week we'll be running around Paris. Who knows; Andy might even carry that banana.

But bloody hell, eh? Next week. I'd say 'who knows where the time goes' but I know exactly where it's gone - it's gone into all the usual places; work, and with friends, and with stalled trains and all the typical day-to-day stuff. It's been used up by rain-sodden freezing runs around a wintry South London that became gradually more enjoyable as the mornings got brighter. It's been used up with discovering parts of the city I've never been to, even after living here for 18 years. It's been used up with listening to more podcasts and radio shows than I've listened to in years (and of finding the time to go from discovering This American Life to liking it to completely hating it. Shut up about your boring concerns! I don't care if your jazz-afficionado two year old is struggling with vegetarianism! Don't tell me about it in your whiny voice! Shut up!). And its been used up with half-hours and hours at the physio's office, trying to de-injure my bloody knee. And it's also been used up with those 'months where we gave up drinking to focus on the running' but where we actually didn't do that at all, and went to the pub anyway.

Bizarrely, all of this has been fun (apart from the time, maybe, where I read up on the history of marathons and about how Pheidippides, who ran the first one from Marathon to Athens, collapsed and died at the finish line.
That's not the kind of story you're after is it. Not if you're looking for the inspiration to get out of bed and go running, first thing in the morning).

Not that I've been out recently of course. I haven't run a mile since a couple of Saturdays ago. The time we did just over 21 miles. That's because my knee tightened up again and - on the morning that I did try to run properly, last Tuesday or Wednesday (I forget which) - something still wasn't quite right. It didn't hurt or anything but I was limping, if only a little. So instead I've been to the gym and on the cross-trainers and on the cycling machines. In fact, the other day I 'cycled' 30 miles while watching 'Allo Allo' on the gym telly. This is the Paris Marathon we're preparing for after all - and how much more French can you get? That's right mate. None more French.

As for my knee. It's alright really. And it'll be fine next weekend, I'm sure. 

But yes. Paris. Next weekend. 26 miles and 385 yards to run. God knows what my finishing time will be for all of this of course. I'd originally, laughably, put myself down for 'four hours' and I reckon it'll be miles more now with all of the knee problems I've had, but to hell with the finishing time. It was never my reason for running in the first place, was it. All that really matters at this stage is that I'm looking forward to it and am determined to enjoy it.

So. Before I head off to the gym for one last time* before the big race (*my membership runs out today) I'd just like to say cheers to everyone who's sponsored me to do this. It means a lot. Thank you.

No comments:

Post a Comment