Bugger Marathons

…well that was what I was thinking as I trudged my way through some industrial wasteland on the outskirts of Amsterdam. 'This is not fun', 'I am not enjoying this','This is not making me a better person', 'I just it to finish', 'I am not learning anything about myself', were the thought fragments. I actually did not mind the bleak scenery because I had retreated so completely inside myself I was paying little attention to the outside world. I was worn out and could run no further. Several times I tried to get going again but it quickly fizzled and all I could hope for was to complete the distance by walking.

Damn - it wasn't meant to be like this. The plan was to run fairly steadily for 42k and feel some warm glow of satisfaction but it is amazing how plans can unravel.

There were two main problems. The first was that I caught a cold a few days before the race and on Friday, as I coughed and spluttered, I wondered if it was sensible to start. But my record of not starting marathons weighs very heavy and I knew that I had to give it a go as long as the infection did not reach my chest. So off I went and Saturday was a good day and I felt quite a lot better with little coughing; everything now seemed clear, I would run. However I then stumbled into the second problem - my own stupidity. Instead of making allowances for the for the fact that the virus was still floating about and was probably not up to full strength, I just ran to my original plan.

Everything was fine in the beginning and I got to half way in 2' 05, which there or there abouts, but I knew I had been slowing and that my strength was ebbing away. I was like the man falling from a skyscraper who passes the 14 floor shouting OK so far. After 29k it was only about survival and getting to the end, which I did in a smidgen under 5 hours. For the last quarter of the race I felt mixture frustration, impotent rage, resignation and embarassment.

The odd thing was that when I crossed the line I did not feel down, decide I was useless and generally beat myself up. No I actually felt quite proud that I had finished and good that I had done it , even if it did go wrong. Whatever the time I had done it.

The thing is that it had been part of a good weekend. I really enjoy the atmosphere of Amsterdam and it was good to meet both Beanz and Womble for lunch in one of the grand cafes. The hotel was fine and in a good location and the meal after on Sunday night was excellent. On Monday we visited the Van Gogh Museum and saw a wonderful exhibition about Barcelona 1900, which included a couple of amazingly detailed architectural models, some charming early Picassos, a haunting portrait of Eric Satie in his bare apartment and some film of the docks and the streets.

So apart from 13k everything was just dandy. Even that 13k was survivable and there is always another day to get them right.

Sometime I will get them right!

Running with an iPod

I don’t normally run with my iPod as I like feeling connected with the landscape and being able to let my mind wander freely. However at the moment I am thinking about next week and worrying about lasting the distance. Perhaps listening to music in the last 6 miles would be a helpful distraction.

Today I experimented to see if that would work - and it was pretty much a failure. I didn’t sense my body properly and in a strange way felt a little off balance. I couldn’t hear the footfall and felt isolated from my surroundings. In addition the cable flapping around and the earbuds slipping were a constant irritation. In other words I just did not enjoy the run very much even though it was a perfectly still day and the temperature was just right.

Ah well another idea bites the dust.

However I really enjoyed the music in the open air, amongst the trees and woodland paths and it was particularly enjoyable when doing my stretches. That might have been a useful discovery because I maintained the stretch for longer and more easily than usual.

PS

When running I put it on shuffle play (not a feature I use that much). During the run 17 tracks were played but a couple of artists had more than one song i.e they were over represented. I remember reading articles about people who used shuffle a lot and were convinced that their iPods had favourites (or there was an Apple conspiracy to favour certain artists). Apple responded at first by saying that the order was totally random, which I’m sure was true because truly random events are likely to have clusters. However they did not hold fast to the purist line and soon altered the program to make it seem more random.

I like this as a small example of how we all like to look for patterns and how difficult it is to identify what is random.

Amsterdam

This was never designed to be a training blog. All I ever hoped to do was ramble-on about things and then make some connection with running (however tenuous the link might be). There have thus been very few clues to my gradual increase in mileage over the past three months. It has been nothing too spectacular and has peaked at about 35 miles per week. But if Womble can run back to back marathons on that sort of mileage I don’t see why I should not attempt just one.

So Amsterdam it is.

I have been keeping quiet about this because I have a truly lousy record of actually running these races. Out of the four I have attempted I have only finished one (the first). Two I failed to start because of injury or illness and in the final one I scared myself witless by having a heart rate that went out of control.

But there are now only a couple of weeks to go and apart from the paranoia of everybody around me having colds and coughs, I am fairly confident of being there. Although I am looking forward to it I am also a little apprehensive - I have no idea what it will be like.

So early on the Saturday morning we will be flying out from Luton and on Monday we return. We will also try not to feel guilty about burning up our carbon allowance on this indulgence.

Ritual

It is first thing in the morning and I am in Café Nero, drinking a coffee before work - just reading the paper and watching the world go by. A man about 30 years old comes by with a large mug of coffee, which he places on the table, before carefully removing a dirty cup to another table. He then looks at the arrangement of the chairs and moves one a little forward and the other to the side so they equidistant from the table and symmetrical. He then takes another chair to make a triangle around the small round table, a few more minor readjustments and then he is satisfied. He now disappears and returns with a paper napkin and a handful of sugar bags. He thoroughly wipes the table and places the used napkin in the dirty cup on the other table. Still standing, he starts to add sugar to his coffee. The little bag is held between thumb and forefinger at the corner and given two shakes. The corner is ripped off and the sugar poured out. Eight and a half bags of sugar are added before the coffee is stirred. He then goes off again and gets a paper, arranges things on the table and finally sits down. There is an adjustment of the zip of his jacket and his posture before finally he takes his first sip from the mug.

Everything is done with deliberation and I wonder if the first sip is accompanied with that inward sigh that says ‘ahh just right!’ or ‘that’s better’. I compare it with my behaviour – where all I did was brush the old cup to the other side of table before sitting down and drinking, without much thought of what I was doing.

I think of Kieren’s report of the Berlin Marathon, where he mentions sharing a flat with other runners and finding out about their pre-race rituals. Again I think about what I do and can think on no ritualised behaviour. When I run, all I try to do is remember everything I need and get out in one piece – there is no calm order.

Perhaps I need to give everything more focussed attention. Ceremony can be useful – it fixes an event, gives it status and puts you in the right frame of mind.

I am reminded of something from a radio programme of 35 years ago (it could have been ‘From our Own Correspondent’), when the reporter talked of meeting some native Americans who used tobacco in their ceremonies. He asked what they thought of the way tobacco was used by westerners and they replied it was bad because it was not treated with enough respect.

This has stayed with me because it makes me think of how full attention can change the nature of a thing – give it a different cultural meaning.

In Café Nero the man is certainly giving his coffee full attention. Perhaps it is a valuable ceremony that enhances his pleasure. On the other hand he could just have a compulsive obsessive personality.