Janathon Day 7: Confined

Janathon Day 7: Walk 5.6km, Time 1hr 10min, Weather wet.

The weather again dominated the day: rain and more rain. Luckily it eased by lunchtime, which was when I set out. So I could have no no possible complaint - if I had been sensible that is. 

If I had stuck to the pavements  walking would have been straightforward. Instead I had the idiot idea that it would be nice to walk across fields and along an uphill footpath through a wooded area. And it was nice. It was very pleasant being in the open, breathing the soft post rain air, looking round and seeing the trees merge into the mistiness of the sky. It was enjoyable but, and this is a big but, walking was painfully slow. The fallen oak leaves had mulched down into a pulp on top of waterlogged, slimy clay. As a result every time I planted my foot to push-off it slipped back. Theoretically this might be good strength training but at the time it just felt like hard work.

This is probably a good thing as my Janathon is a bit light on serious exercise. In fact the aim is more to get out and try to see my surroundings afresh. If possible notice things I had never seen before. 

Today's photo is an example. The shed is about half a mile from my home and I don't think I have ever paid it any attention at all. There is no reason to; you pass and ignore because it means nothing. It is just a brick shed, that probably has some river management function (the concrete conduit behind it is where the River Gade has been channelled). 

Before today I had never thought about the strangeness of the warning. Why do you need a warning about a confined space? Does it mean the shed is a confined space or the conduit behind is a confined space? Either way it would not be a surprise. You only have to look to be aware of the dimensions. If you can read the sign you can see how big the space is. Why do you need to be told?

I am beginning to think that warning signs up and down the country are a huge conceptual art project that is secretly transforming our landscape. In that spirit I would like to take this sign and place it right in the middle of the park. I think it would be much more fun there than hidden away unnoticed in its small riverside corner.

Janathon Day 6: of dark January days

Janathon Day 6: Walk 9.15km, Time 2hrs, Weather raining like it's the Lake District

Oh my am I tired of this dull, grey light! Yesterday I promised to break my sequence of photographing wrecks by finding something shiny, whole (and by implication uplifting) but I didn't expect the weather to be so depressing. When it is like this it is difficult to make photos look cheery. I tried to follow the advice of Travelling Hopefully and look for a cuddly animal but none were out, or if they were they looked a bit bedraggled.  Good job there are cows.

The Belted Galloways on Boxmoor are an attractive herd and photogenic even on a wet day. When I saw them from a distance I thought they were huddled up against the weather but when I got closer I realised it was feed time. Why is it that feeding time at the zoo is one of the main attractions, why do we enjoy watching other animals eat? It's another question I can't answer but there is an undeniable fascination. If it hadn't been so wet I would probably have stayed longer to watch.

As I was walked I thought about colour and the narrow tonal range of a winter landscape on a rainy, or even just a dull day. Sometimes this can be quite attractive as shapes merge into each other in a misty, soft way, and "there's comfort in melancholy when there's no need to explain" .*  But it can also suck you down and you need something bright to break out.

I saw a runner who illustrated this perfectly. She was dressed all in dark: black tights, black top, dark grey hat, but she had on a pair of vividly red/pink gloves. I was fascinated by those gloves as the bobbed back and forth and the way a little bit of colour completely transformed the outfit and gave it lift 

We all need a lift this time of the year. Yesterday I listened to a radio programme, which talked of January being the saddest month and what to do about it. The main advice was not to make ambitious new year resolutions. They very rarely last  and you only feel bad about yourself when they fail. Instead you should set targets for the up coming year and timetable them realistically. You should not try to move from the indulgence of christmas to strict austerity on January 1^st. rather you should plan some treats that will keep you going.

I thought immediately of Janathon. Although it might look like a new year resolution from the outside, it is not. It is instead an excuse to get out and do something (anything). The chances are the pleasure of thinking of things and the satisfaction of doing them should be enough to ward off the January slump.

* Joni Mitchell - Hejira

Janathon Day 5: more wreckage

Janathon Day 5: Walk 11.76km, Time 2hrs 45min, Weather raw but bright

What do you think of when you are running?

This is a question I constantly ask myself yet never manage to answer. Mostly there is just a stream of thoughts with nothing that can later be recalled.  The very best moments happen when there is nothing - a blank and I am at one with the activity. I like the emptiness but this state is rare and fleeting. However it is one of the reasons I run (or rather, given my dodgy knee at the moment, like the idea of running).

Walking should be different as the gentle pace is meant to induce contemplation, and as there are so many accounts of people having flashes of insight or solving problems, I know this must be the case. But for me - no. It is still the same stream of nonsense punctuated by random observations. However I there are more observations - when walking I deliberately look around, whilst when running I am often looking inward, just keeping going.

Today there was some impressive pet action to look at. An area I walk across has a ring of trees about the size of a running track. As I was approaching a magnificent boxer rushed past on its way to run two speedy laps before trotting off to join his master. Whilst he was running a couple of squirrels skittered about in panic before climbing out of danger but the dog wasn't interested in chasing them he was only interested in his 800 metres.

Now I know greyhounds do this for a living but nevertheless I was impressed.

One of the other things I saw though made me fell a little sad. Today's picture is of a wrecked boat. The same boat I saw on Day 3, when it was a fully loaded home. It is now abandoned, probably after hitting some ice. Our very own Titanic - a casualty of the winter.

I am getting worried that this blog is beginning to develop a theme of wreckage and destruction.  Tomorrow I must really make an effort to photograph something shiny and whole.

Junathon Day 4: Blasted

Janathon Day 4: Cycle 16 miles, Time 1hr 13 min, Weather grey and cold (monkey, off, balls, freeze, brass, in any order)

This morning was a total waste. If I was to mark my productivity on a scale of 1 to 10 it would have achieved a -5. Perhaps a lunchtime ride would perk things up, get the blood flowing and instil a feeling of zest, I thought. Perhaps...

Sad to relate, contrary to the prospectus of all exercise blogs (including my own), the ride did nothing to aid my concentration. I was just as useless in the afternoon; but it did increase my contentment as I came back glad to have gone out and satisfied that I had not let the day totally slip by. The sad fact is that exercise cannot really compensate for lack of sleep. 

Over Christmas my sleeping pattern tends to go haywire and it takes time to settle back into a routine. This does not mix well with Janathon because it is a well known fact that if you up your activity you need to make sure you have enough sleep to repair all the frayed threads. So I need a new New Year's resolution - make sure I have a full nights sleep. Obviously it is not a proper New Year's resolution as I have already missed 3 nights but at least I can try to start from today.

The picture from today's ride again results from a winter landscape with few leaves. For the first time I noticed this wreck of a house through the bare trees and stripped-back vegetation, even though I have cycled the road many times before. It looks as if it was a grand property, a home of some affluence, but now it is empty, destroyed. It could almost be the beginning of a romantic novel: "Last night I dreamed I went to Mandalay again".

Except it is probably not at all romantic. The house is quite close to the Buncefield depot and was probably destroyed by the blast. It is a shock to realise that it is 5 years since the explosion and a number of people have still not been properly compensated and there are a number of empty buildings looking like skeletons. The fine Total had to pay for causing £1 billion of damage was £3.6 million, which for a major oil company is not very harsh. 

Perhaps this property was caught in a limbo of compensation. I do not know. All I do know is that as a passer by I find the site of wrecks, the visible evidence of lives interrupted, quite haunting.

Janathon Day 3: of bowls and canal boats

Janathon Day 3: Walk 8.9km, Time 1hr 45min, Weather cold but with some sun and blue sky before it clouded over.

There is something reassuringly orderly about bowls: the greens are square and the surface flat and level with carefully maintained grass. Nature has been tamed and parcelled, and the tradition goes back centuries. 

I think of them as calm spaces (you can tell I don't play the game because I'm sure things get cut throat in the heat of competition), and like them as well when they are empty as when they are in use. This morning the green was still, covered with frost and with a low sun creating zebra patterns. All quite peaceful and it suited my mood as I ambled past.

There is an advantage to this bimbling: I am happy to stop to take photos or even just look around. I am not sure how this rates as exercise but it is enjoyable.

This morning I walked by the canal, on one of my standard running routes but this time I  stopped to talk to a boat owner about living on the canal in winter (running I would have passed by with just a nod). I wanted to know how cold it was when the hull was surrounded by ice and the wind was blowing. He said it was OK - the boat was well insulated and the fire kept the temperature up in the 70s. The problem came with being frozen-in. He had just spent more time than he would have liked moored at Winkwell and now he was moving back to his home berth.

The thing I like about canal boats is the variation. Some are very slick, shiny and well maintained, others are good but just a little down at heel, whilst others look as if they almost home made. In many ways they express their owners personality -  in the same way that individual running styles  say something about the runner.

Janathon Day 2: of planes, pheasants and wintertime

Janathon Day 2: Cycle -17.9 miles; Time - 1hr 29 min; Weather - coldish, greyish, faint signs of a weak sun.

It is amazing how wintery the landscape looks at the moment; even more bleak than when covered in snow. Everything is brown, bare and beaten down, dead looking - except of course it isn't. It is just the time of the season and soon things will grow again. One of the joys of exercising outdoors is a closer appreciation of seasons. Life is not meant to be all sunny uplands or relaxing, warm days in verdant pasture. You have to endure the biting cold winds and bleak landscapes to fully appreciate the good days.

The Guardian ran an article comparing the relative benefits of training outdoors and indoors. Although there was nothing clear cut about the findings as both offer scope for a good workout, the fact is the author enjoyed the outdoor sessions more.

"Martyn Standage, an expert in motivation in health, exercise and sport, was most interested by the fact that on the days when my exercise had been done outside, I used more energy through the rest of the day.

Standage said this fitted with studies that suggest working out in the outdoors leads to a greater feeling of vitality – physical and mental energy. Some studies suggest that this vitality is primeval: human beings have inhabited urban rather than natural environments for a relatively small number of generations."

An advantage of the bare landscape and stripped trees is that the birds are more obvious.  On my ride today I saw yellowhammers in the hedgerow, various tits (I will have no talking at the back and remarks that one of them was riding the bike) and most excitingly a female that shot out of a field right by me so I could clearly hear the sound of her wings flapping (like running your fingers down wooden venetian blinds).

Today's picture is a complete surprise. I cycled down this lane a coupe of months ago and never noticed planes. In short time they seem to have installed some tent-like hangers and turned an ordinary field into a landing strip. When I took the photo all my attention was focussed on the planes (especially the nearer one, which was taxiing at the time) and I completely missed the giant chair. What is that about? I only noticed it when i downloaded the photo and am completely puzzled. I think I will have to go back to check it on my next cycle ride.

Janathon Day 1: a walk on the moor

Day 1 Walk: 11.2km, 2.45 hours, Weather: misty moisty.

I did not get out early but even at 10.30 the streets were still very, very quiet. In the soft, grey, misty light with its soft focus everything looked a little unnatural; almost as if I was it was a replica of the place where I lived but not properly populated. Those people we did pass were more likely to look at you and exchange a greeting - rather nice but not quite normal for a southern town. New Year's Day in the morning has a special atmosphere and I am glad Janathon forced me outside to sense it.

All in all it was a success - a pleasant amble. If I had been wearing a Garmin the watch would have probably have given up in boredom - reckoning that there was too little movement to measure. But it was all I could do. If I walked faster I started to feel my knee, so I eased back into the pace I could sustain. Nevertheless the cumulative effect of getting out each day should be good for endurance.

My aim was to search for livestock. It was always a motto for Juneathan that you could not have too many pictures of cows so I thought I would start on the same theme in January - except this time with sheep.

There is not a lot more to say apart from the fact that I kept a look out for runners. There were fewer than expected. Those I did see looked over dressed with hats, gloves, and many layers. I don't think they quite trusted the fact that the cold snap had lifted. I hope the thaw continues; I was getting very tired of frozen ground

Janathon for the Lame

At the last moment I have signed up for Janathon - Oh how I resisted!

The problem was one of self-esteem. I did not think I could participate in any meaningful way without running and at the moment I cannot run. My knee remains totally mangled - tendons are in tatters and refuse to settle back to normal. I have the feeling it will  take a long time to heal. Nothing much can be done apart from gently working and stretching within limits of motion. It is rather pathetic, which is why I thought the idea of a meaningful amount of exercise each day was a bust.

It was Cathy, the Janathon ringmaster, who changed my mind. She suggested I could walk. Brilliant! I really hadn't thought of that as my definition of exercise is a little rigid: it should involve raising your pulse and getting breathless at some point.  Nevertheless walking might just work.

I cannot stride out in the purposeful way of an active and serious walker, because that also puts strain on my knee, but I can amble along trying to tread lightly and if I go for long enough then that can make up for the lack of athleticism and vigour.

So the plan is quite simple: every morning I will go out for at least an hour and explore my neighbourhood, starting from my front door. Each day I will try to find something interesting and take a picture and that will be the blog. 

The name  'Running Matters' should really be changed to 'Ambling About', except there will also be some cycling. 

So huzza for Janathon. Huzza getting out each day and developing good habits, and good luck to the 150 people who have signed up. There cannot be a more auspicious day for a new beginning than 1.1.11

Two Google Tools

One of the quotes I repeatedly hear is : "being a successful writer is 3% talent and 97% not being distracted by the internet". You can substitute any other occupation for writer and  it would have the same kernel of truth.

There are always reasons to procrastinate and it seems to be Google's mission to help you find more.

Their latest tool is the books Ngram viewer, which allows you to track the occurrence of words, over time, in the large number of books that have been digitised.

I don't know how how useful it is (as opposed to being an amusing distraction). I am sure someone will do something very scholarly with it at some time. I am not that person: I merely plug in a few words and phrases and then say something like "well fancy that!"

In fact, unless you are very big and clever, it is dangerous to draw too many conclusion from the occurrence of phrases or words completely devoid of context. For example 'road running' for me has a very specific meaning - it is what this blog is about; but here you cannot separate it from a phrase such as 'the road running south was impassable due to snow'. 

Nevertheless you can still have some fun. It is interesting to see how language usage changes. For example the plot of 'running form' and 'running style' shows that in the early C20 the former was predominant only to be overtaken and then show a a late usage spurt. But why has the use of 'form picked up when it was previously in decline? I have no answer. I know why I like using it (because form=shape and I see style as being about the shape you cut when you run) but that does not answer the question. As I said the only response is "well fancy that!".

But there might be some trends that are worth investigating: The occurrence of the phrase 'marathon training' seemed to peak at the end of the 1990s, since when there has been a slight decline,  as is the case with 'shin splints' (which I use because it is mostly a running injury). I had thought the past decade has been been one of expanding interest in running but now I am not so sure. I will have to do some more research. 

Another Google toy that is interesting to play with is reading level. If you go to the advanced search and put the site address in the 'Search within a site or domain:' box and then select 'annotate results with reading levels' from the reading level box, the reading level of a site will be revealed.

This site is 21% basic, 78% intermediate 0% advanced.  I have no idea what this proves apart from the fact that I am easily distracted by such titbits of information and that Google truly is the procrastinators friend.

Probably The Best Runner You've Never Heard Of

Little Wonder: the untold story of Alfred Shrubb world champion runner 

by Rob Hadgraft

My reading has taken me to strange places recently, away from books on how to train or running form to athletics history. The story of how a tradition of specialist (professional) runners/footmen/pedestrians, which had gone back centuries, was supplanted by an ideal of amateur sport, which then crumbled at the edges before collapsing to be replaced by our current system of professional athletes, is fascinating.

On its own the way the amateur sporting ideal became dominant is worth further study. I know little about it apart from it being class based, and springing directly from the ideals of the Victorian English gentleman. The idea that you should only play sport for love and honour and never for any other reward is something that only makes sense if it is seen as character building. It does not recognise sport as a worthy endeavour in its own right or a way of life, and even skirts with the notion that training properly could be a touch unsporting. Yet there is no escaping the fact that to become good at a sport (in any era) requires time and dedication. The obvious consequence of that is that those who would excel would be those only those with wealth enough to spend their own time freely.

Yet there is something about running that can escape these constraints. Because it is such a basic activity, something we all do as children and it is something that can be enhanced with other aerobic activities,  it is possible for someone how has led a hard active life from childhood to discover a natural talent, even fairly late in life.

The story of Alf Shrubb is a fascinating example

He was born in 1876 and grew up in Horsham where he started out as an apprentice carpenter and building labourer (work that would include carrying bricks up a 30 rung ladder). On top of that he liked the outdoors and the countryside and would run to follow the local foxhounds but thought nothing of it. The turning point was a haystack fire, in 1899, 3 miles outside Horsham and the entertainment, common at the time, of following the fire engine (that sort of thing just doesn't happen now, we are far too sophisticated. In the age Facebook all that is needed is for the next door neighbour to post a photo). He found himself running with the captain of the local athletics club who struggled to keep-up. He was therefore encouraged him to join the club and on joining the Blue Star Harriers  immediately started winning races.

A year later he easily won the county 4 mile cross country, where he was watched by Thomas Sinnott from the South London Harriers and the coach Harry Andrews, who later reported: "Shrubb was then a little black-nobbed fellow who ran like a startled deer and I told Mr Sinnnott, whose club he eventually joined, he was something out of the common".

I love Victorian understatement.  He was so out of the common he went on to dominate distance running and over his amateur career set world records at: 2,000 yards, 1.25 miles, 1.5 miles, 1.75 miles, 2 miles, 4,000 yards, 3 miles, 5,000 metres, 4 miles, 5 miles, 6 miles, 10,000 metres, 7 miles, 8 miles, 9 miles, 10 miles, 11 miles as well as the one hour record. I can think of no modern equivalent who has that range.

From 1 mile to 15 miles he was supreme but that didn't stop him being criticised by the previous great champion, Walter George. (in the same way old cricketers sit in the Test Match Special box and shake their heads at the modern players and say "I just don't know what's going on down there"). Alf Shrubb liked to go out fast and establish an early lead after which his pace would vary and he  would surge and relax, seemingly on a whim, according to how he felt. There was a freedom in his running that others saw as tactical naivety. Walter George was convinced that the only proper way to run was his way ie to conserve energy, run an even tempo and be fresh for the end. He therefore thought Shrubb was all over the place and lacked discipline. 

It only goes to show there is more than one way to run and each person should follow the path that suits their temperament but sometimes people who have found success with one method find it impossible to recognise that theirs is not the only way. That is still true today.

Alf Shrubb's way of training was light by the standards of today's distance runners . He mixed speed work with walking (for endurance) but importantly raced very frequently, often several races in one day. As the races were all over the country is was obvious that a builder could not afford to do this as a strict amateur (there are rumours he asked for pianos as prizes, which could be sold through a relative's piano shop).

This brings us right back to the rigid code of amateurism and how even travel expenses were forbidden. The AAA didn't want him to accept an invitation to tour Canada but negotiations over tickets still took place and so he was investigated and banned. The thing is that up to a point people would have turned a blind eye. His club fixed him up with a trainer and obviously supported him in a number of ways that were not strictly allowed. So it is an example of the tangled mess amateurism caused: athlete and club covertly against the governing body.

Such battles often leave an individual feeling aggrieved. To this day I don't think there has been a time when the people on the ground, running and coaching have felt that the administrators are really on their side.

I think I like reading these books - one can enjoy the specifics of a bygone era and look at how things have changed.

P.S. If you want more information there is a website dedicated to him here

P.P.S. Forgive the presumption of the title. It should be "Probably the best runner I had never heard of". I should never assume other people share my ignorance. Very bad form!

An Anthology of London Marathon Runners

I am a bit behind on this. Both Warriorwoman and Jogblog have long ago commented on The Official Register of London Marathon Runners , which lists everybody who has taken part in the London Marathon, with their times.

My only comment is that it sounds a lot like "The Anthology of Huntingdonshire Cabmen" :

It can hardly be claimed for the newly published Anthology of Huntingdonshire Cabmen that it is, in the words of an over-enthusiastic critic, 'a masterpiece of imaginative literature'. The Anthology consists of the more striking names (with initials) from each of the three volumes. It is a factual and unemphatic work, and the compiler has skinned the cream from the lists. Here are such old favourites as Whackfast, E.W., Fodge, S., and Nurthers, P.L. The index is accurate, and the introduction by Cabman Skinner is brief and workmanlike.

I have mentioned this before but failed to attribute the quote

It was written by J B Morton who wrote a humorous column for the Daily Express under the name of Beachcomber. I don't know how well he is remembered today but he influenced a whole absurdist/silly strand in English comedy including Spike Milligan, Monty Python and Terry Pratchett.

In a time when someone has a criminal conviction and lost his job merely for the flippant tweet: "Crap! Robin Hood Airport is closed. You've got a week... otherwise I'm blowing the airport sky high!" (a fuller account of the case can be found here), his influence might be spreading wider. Absurdity seems to have escaped from the humour section into the main news pages. To use another Beachcomber quote:

Justice must not only be seen to be done it must be seen to be believed

Bradley Wiggins

There are any number of reasons for liking individual sports but one of them is that they force you to look harder and  know yourself better. After all it you control your own performance and you know if you have succeeded or if you have let yourself down.

It is the same at every level and applies just as much to me plodding along, trying to keep going, as it does to someone competing at the Olympics. There might be the world of difference in ability and ambition but each of us has a framework of what we expect. 

As I have said many times before an essential virtue of running is its honesty. The times do no lie and you cannot pretend to be faster than your actual results. However there can be a difference between a clear assessment in private and what you are prepared to admit publicly (all of us have some sort of image we like to maintain).

That is why I love it when you find sportsmen who will talk openly - I find them inspiring. 

This interview with Bradley Wiggins is a case in point. I admire a man who can own up to the failure of his 2010 Tour de France and  not try to coat it with stock excuses or phrases from the sport psychologists cookbook. He obviously likes to be grounded as shown by the assessment that his Sky team got too pompous last year and that he "ended up up my own arse a little – and it was so far from the truth it was unreal."

He seems to have realised that you can become overly professional, overly focussed, overly constrained and as a result lose your way a little.

"Widening the focus will help. I remember coming back from the national road race in 2009 and, a week before the Tour, we stopped at a service station. I had a pizza and a couple of beers. This year I wouldn't have a little glass of wine in case it ruined my Tour. But a more relaxed Brad, after a glass of wine, would've had a much better Tour. When you look back it seems so simple and you think: 'What a dick!' I've learned my lesson."

I will be cheering for him on next year's tour.

School Sports

This is not a political blog (if I wrote about what is happening at the moment I think I would spin downwards into gloom and despondency); its topic is running (and cycling).  However there is also an interest in exercise and public health - which is why I want to write about the proposed abolition of the the £162m school sports strategy. 

At a time when the public health consequences of an increasingly unfit and overweight population are well known, when the cost of diabetes is rising and set to rise much further, the government should be doing everything in its power to encourage exercise as well as a good diet. But what is it doing? What is it doing? 

Their first action was to abolish the ‘Change 4 Life’, a programme that attempted to encourage healthier living. In the past I have been critical of the tone of some of their information (though the comment of Travelling Hopefully is well worth reading as a counterbalance) but I think the intention is good. Information and encouragement are a necessary part of trying to change engrained behaviour. The job of any campaign is to try things, evaluate, develop, adapt, try again. Sometimes things are not right at the beginning and sometimes things take a long time to have an effect but you do not give up too early. If something is important (and this is) you have to keep going.

The next action was theatrically bizarre. The thing is they know that the most important element for weight is diet and they know the major problem with the western diet is fatty, sugary, salty, processed foods (that are extremely profitable for the major food manufacturers). They also know that it is hard to get these firms to change their ways (as an example you have the example of the difficulties the Food Standards Agency has had to impose a traffic lights system to indicate the relative healthiness of foods).  So the policy to diminish the role of the Food Standard Agency (after all those pesky scientists are just too bothersome) and place health policy in the hands of the big food companies was surreal.  Secretly they must believe that foxes have been much maligned are really make the best guards for  chicken coops.

And so to exercise:

There is a widespread concern about declining levels of activity amongst kids ( e.g this blog post) and school should have an important role in counterbalancing these changes in lifestyle. It can offer training, a chance to sample different forms of sport and exercise, help kids find the activities they enjoy, and provide competition to stretch abilities.  Sadly since the 1980s school sports provision  declined to such an extent that a few years ago it was little more than a token presence in the curriculum. (Some background on the ground to be made-up and how it was being attempted can be found here)

The consequence of poor PE for non-athletic kids is described in the  personal article by Johann Hari, which describes his effort to lose weight and the belated discovery that good, hard physical exercise is fun.

And then, suddenly, I felt angry. It occurred to me that what I had been given so brilliantly at Matt Roberts was a physical education. I had been taught how my body works, what will keep it in good condition, and what best fuels it. I had been taught how to exercise and stretch and eat. And I thought – why was I never taught this at school? Yes, there is a subject called physical education – but it does precisely the opposite. Just a few phrases will remind every mildly unhealthy person in Britain of what that experience is like: "All four corners of the gym – go!" "Pick a team!" "Jump OVER the horse!"

The School Sports Partnerships and the strategy that is to be scrapped tried to address this problem. Its aim was to increase participation and increase the options beyond the traditional, competitive sports. And it was succeeding. This is anecdotally reported here (which incidentally puts £162m in context - it is the cost overrun of the Olympic swimming pool). The more formal assessments are listed here 

In 2009 Ofsted surveyed the effect of the sports strategy on 99 primary and 84 secondary schools and noted the improvements. Their main recommendations were:

• continue funding the physical education and sports strategy for young people up to and beyond 2012 to ensure that schools have the capacity to sustain and build on the improvements they have introduced

• establish a post-16 entitlement to physical education and school sport, including providing access courses for students across the full range of ability levels

• enable sports colleges and school sport partnerships to be at the heart of local and regional initiatives to tackle childhood obesity and to promote a lifelong commitment to ‘being healthy’.

Their recommendations were definitely not to scrap everything and replace it with a few days of 'School Olympics' (i.e. sports days, or inter school competitions). In fact I can not find anyone with detailed knowledge of what is actually happening in our schools who agrees with this destruction.

And that is why I don't write about politics. I cannot cope with the distress of seeing evidence and reason count for nothing.


P.S This fact check show how politicians use statistics on the subject in a way that is misleading even if it is not strictly inaccurate.

A Break Can Be Good

I have now not run for a month but the leg is now OK and next week I will start again. To be truthful I probably could have started a couple of weeks ago but didn't want to.

Now there is a terrible admission for a runner. Anybody who wants to live up to the name, and certainly anybody who writes a blog about running, should be chomping at the bit - mad with frustration. Yet I have been feeling remarkably content. It is a form of heresy.

The reasons are twofold. The first is that I am following a plan and so don't feel I am backsliding. As I want to training for a spring marathon I do not want the beginning compromised by worrying about a weakness. I therefore decided to wait until there was no discomfort (rather than just waiting until the pain was dull enough to bear). There is plenty of time and I am sure patience now will be rewarded later.

The second reason is that I have been enjoying cycling. It is a weird thing but the slightly different range of leg movement has left cycling unaffected: so I have been spending my time in the country roads, looking about and noticing how the autumn colours are getting ever more interesting.

Today's picture is nothing special - I could have stopped in any number of places and shown the mixture of reds, yellows, brown and greens. But it gives a good indication of how things look at the moment.

If you think the road looks small, rural and peaceful: you would be right. The strange thing is that it is only a short distance from the MI, full of thundering cars and lorries: the epitome of hustle. Also it is not that far from Watford and the edges of London, but that could all of that could be a million miles away. I like these contrasts. On a fairly easy ride you can slip between the agricultural, the wooded, the isolated village, the suburban, and the town centre.

Cycling has its distinct pleasures and I don't want to lose them when I start marathon training. So at least two sessions a week will be on the bike.  Sorted.

I actually think this break has been beneficial.

Dave Hill Runs the South Riding

This is from Dave Hill's london Blog in the Guardian

"I've decided to run next year's London Marathon. As part of my training programme I intend to run from far west to far east London, passing through all 32 boroughs and the City along the way. I made a start a few weeks back, and already I have found that I'm on a journey of discovery - one that I'll be sharing with you in the months to come. I'm also raising money for Shelter."

This is my sort of enterprise - running as a form of exploration and I should have linked to it before. 

Perhaps though it is good that I waited because today he covers some of the ground I covered on day 1 of the South Riding: Sutton to Colliers Wood.

I am pleased he mentioned the River Wandle because it is something I forgot to talk about in my post (well actually there were a lot of things I remembered but didn't write about - I didn't want to be too self indulgent). I have memories of paper mills and factories and a filthy discoloured river covered with patches of foamy scum. Now it is amazing how such rivers were filled with the untreated effluent from factories along them because now it is so much better. It is a great example of how much the environment of our cities have improved over the last 50 years or so

In a time when the default position of people talking about the state of the country is to say the place is going to the dogs, everything is falling apart, not good enough, it's all a rip-off, it seems almost embarrassing to point to something and say "erm well actually some things are dramatically better." 

The River Wandle is a case in point and something I can point to and say: "If only you knew how it used to be!"

Trying To Be Injury Free

When people talk of running goals they usually do so in terms of targets: first to run a 10k, 12 marathon, marathon, and then to run them in specific times. I have suddenly realised that, for me, these targets are incidental. For sure they focus the mind, give training a shape and a purpose, and keep you stimulated, but they are not the most important thing. The most important thing is consistency: regularly getting out, not getting distracted, keeping going. It is the basis of everything.

So if you asked me what my running goals are, I would say I have only one and that is to keep on keeping on.

Except that at this precise moment I am not running. I have an injury that has not fully healed and so I am spending my time regretting my stupidity and fretting about how long it now takes for my body to repair itself. My Immediate goal is therefore to let the injury fully heal and then establish a routine that will allow me to stay injury free. Only then will I be able to attain my real goal of consistency.

The pathetic thing is that everytime I am injured I make the same plans but everytime I still do something stupid (my only defence is that it is often a different type of stupid). I am therefore building up a list of things I have learned. Here are my top 5

1. The most vulnerable time is when you are coming back from an injury. My injuries have certainly clustered with long periods without problems interspersed with times when everything seems to go wrong.

I think there are two reasons. The first is that there is a tendency to come back too quickly, when the pain is acceptable rather than gone. The second is more speculative but is based on my experience of back pain (when the whole of the back and shoulders freeze, not just the hurt area): when we are injured other parts of our bodies compensate and we move differently. Imperceptibly we get out of balance and when we run again our gait can be effected, which can cause unusual stresses and lead to new problems.

Lesson: come back gently. The first runs should feel easy and relaxed and you should be very aware of form.

2. Doing too much is a dangerous temptation. This is obviously related to the problems of coming back from injury in a gentle way, but it can also be a problem at other times. A tendency to overestimate ones strength and/or ability is difficult to control. It is easy to make decisions based on memories of what you could do when you were at you peak or what you wished you could do. The inevitable result is a breakdown.

Lesson: be very realistic about your capabilities. It is no use thinking you ought to be able to do something, you have to be sure you can do something. For me realism can be very painful. Sometimes I cannot bear to admit to myself that I am that slow or that out of shape - but it has to be done.

3. Be careful about training on consecutive days. This article says that the number of consecutive days is the second best predictor of running injury (however it gives no supporting reference for this assertion so I don't know how reliable it is). My experience is more to do with intensity: I have had problems with back to back hard days and so I now know variety is important and the old adage of mixing hard and easy days should be followed.

Lesson: Take rest days and make sure easy days are truly easy.

4. Be careful about changing your running style. This might be a little controversial with the current fashion for throwing away cushioned trainers and running barefoot but I believe changes can only be made very carefully and very gradually and should only be done if there is a very good reason. After all our bodies have spent many years adapting to our own way of moving and building very particular strengths. Change too quickly and weaknesses can be exposed. With me it was POSE. For some reason I thought it worth a try, bought a pair of Puma H Streets (the then fashionable minimal shoe) and Hey Presto hurt my ankle.

Lesson: such things should not be done on a whim. Only change your style if you are very sure that you need to and then do so very carefully.

5. Be careful with stretching. It is undoubtably true that running does nothing for your flexibility and a regime of stretching is a good counterbalance, which can help to maintain a good range of movement. However it is not without risk. It is possible to overstretch and cause damage. I am most likely to do this if I stretch after a hard sessions (and I think this is the cause of my current injury). I have therefore come to the conclusion that stretching and running should be separate programmes.

Lesson: not all running injuries are caused by running be just as careful with other forms of training.

Autumn

After completing my account of the South Riding I planned to have a little break before writing about the next cycle trip and get back to some running. Ha - fate has a way of chewing up my plans, spitting them out, and then laughing at me.

At the moment I am not running at all. Somehow or other I have messed up my knee and walking any distance is painful. As I am not going to run before I can walk (Yay I can legitimately use a well worn phrase or saying) I am a bit stymied.

The problem seems to be at the back of my knee, just above the calf. It feels like a tendonitis sort of pain that happens when I stretch my leg forward (as you do when you are walking). Luckily it doesn't affect the rather more limited, circular leg movement of cycling - so that is my current fitness activity.

Today I rode through the woods at Ashridge and it was glorious. The sky was cool blue, streaked with white and although the sun was clear, bright. the temperature was a little nippy but this kept you feeling fresh. Overnight there had been rain and the leaves and grass glistened as if bejewelled. As I looked at the landscape of undulating hills the wooded areas had the variegated colour of early autumn, whilst many of the fields were freshly ploughed and a rich brown that added to the colour pallet.

It was good to be out and days like this are the reason we run or ride. They pay for ll the days when it feels like hard work

Today I alsoI found this video full of lovely time lapse photography of trees and autumn leaves that reminded my of my ride. The landscape might be central European and certainly the end sequence shows a starry night we cannot match in the light polluted South of England. Nevertheless it is a celebration of autumnal beauty - exactly what today's ride felt like.

South Riding 20: The End

Diggers on the M25 and I know I am nearly home

Total: 3 Days 150 miles.

I need a final post to wrap up my journey. This has been hanging a round too long.

My initial plan was to talk about the final cycle ride and how tired I felt. So tired, everything was done on automatic. It should not have been like this as it was only a 35 mile mile day but the cumulative effect, on someone who had not been doing enough cycling before setting off, was heavy. There is not much to say about it except I got through. There were however moments of pleasure, one of which was cycling up to High Barnet and realising the hill was not as steep as I thought it would be.

Perhaps that is one of the lessons of the trip: do not over emphasise difficulties, just get on and work them out as you go along. If you are not careful pre-visualisation can be a powerful negative force.

In the end though I was happy to reach the familiar landscapes of Hertfordshire. When I finally got home a feeling of relief and happiness washed over me. After some food, I lay down and let my mind swirl with images and memories from the past three days. It had been worth doing.

This final post really ought to be a summation of what I found and an attempt to draw some conclusions. But where to start?

The answer came yesterday when I was listening to Russell Brand plugging his latest book. He was asked if he now considered Los Angeles his home. He said no and quoted a line from Howard Barker:

"In the end there is nowhere left to go than where you are from"

That is it! The summary of the whole trip.

It took me back to Colliers Wood, where I lived for my first eight years. When I stood in front of that house and walked the streets, there were a heap of memories, random events that I didn't write about:

I remembered the way my grandfather loved Music Hall and used to sing Harry Champion:

Boiled beef and carrots
Boiled beef and carrots
That's the stuff for your derby kell
Makes you fat and it keeps you well
Don't live like vegetarians on stuff they feed to parrots
From noon till night blow out your kite
On boiled beef and carrots

I have just typed that out from memory so it might not be 100% accurate (in fact I am sure the 4th line is 'makes you fit' but fat is what I always heard). It made a big impression. I can remember loving the sound of the words 'derby kell' and the idea of 'blowing out your kite'. Other, more cultured people, might cite poetry or high class literature but for me the enjoyment and appreciation of words came from Music Hall.

In the same way I was fascinated by Max Miller. My father had a record of one of his performances and I can remember playing it over and over again. Of course I didn't understand the sexual innuendo. I just loved the way he repeated things and drew you in close as if he was having a natter with the audience: "I say here's a funny thing. Here's a funny thing". I could appreciate something about the rhythm of the performance, could sense something was happening but I didn't really know what it was.

I remember my first stupid argument (not the normal tussles and frustrations but an argument about something stupid). It was with a boy at primary school who insisted the best car ever made was a Vauxhall because that's what his dad had. I got agitated because I knew it was bad reasoning but could not explain why and had to fall back on 'everyone knows its a Rolls Royce' (which is also logically weak).

I also remember something that has a link with this cycling trip. When I was seven I had a scooter that I loved to push along the pavement. One day I started out on the road to Cricket Green and just kept on going until I got there. It was not planned. I just went bit by bit. At first I was just going to one road junction, then I went to the next and then the next and so on. When I got back my mother was furious with worry and I couldn't understand why she didn't share my pride at how far I had explored (now of course I fully understand). I was not a rebellious or difficult child. I just lived in a world of my own.

Looking back suddenly understand that I am still that seven year old: I still live in my own world; I still go on excursions by bike or running; I still get frustrated by false or weak logic; I still appreciate lots of things without fully understanding them; and I still love the sound of words and the way they can be played with.

The child is the father to the man and yes - In the end I have nowhere left to go than where I am from.