Photothon 1

A number of very fine people have decided to run every day in June i.e. participate in the Juneathon. I'm not sure I am up to that as I believe in rest days. However I feel I ought to do something and so have decided on a photothon. At the furthest point from the start of my run/walk/cycle I will find something to photograph. With any luck this will help me to look around with more attention.



I had not looked closely these lock gates before. They are almost like giant, overgrown filing cabinets. So, if you like, this is a picture of my outdoor office.

Going Slow

Today was a day to celebrate slow and for this I have to thank my wife.

We don't usually run together, differing schedules, and programmes get in the way but today was an opportunity we could take. We ran the canal tow paths around Berkhamsted, which are nicely surfaced (i.e. like a clay tennis court rather than flinty and uneven), as well as being flat, and we ran at a very easy pace. In fact it was all very pleasant: the vegetation was verdant, ducklings were little bundles of fluff bobbing around on the canal, barge owners were fettling about in their boats, carrying out tasks of minor maintenance. The weather was overcast but was warm enough and carried the atmosphere of calm mistiness. In fact if you asked me to present a picture of England in repose I would give you this canal, right here.

We ran at a pace to talk easily both to ourselves and some people on the barges, or stop to help a lady get her pushchair up some steps. We could take time to look at the passing scenery. I ran a bit longer but the combined result was that we both felt refreshed after we finished.

It was especially good because I had quite forgotten about the virtues of the recovery-run. They seem to have dropped out of my repertoire and I tend to do too many runs at the same sort of middling pace. I always remember Mike Gratton saying that he thought most people ran too fast on their slow runs and too slow on their faster runs; and I know I that is me. Things seem to bunch up in the middle and almost all runs are steady.

Sometimes I just have to step back and relearn the basic lessons - again and again. Today was such a day and I will now do more of this type of session. However they are easy. The other side of the bargain means I will have to do other sessions at greater intensity. Gosh that is almost getting a bit hardcore.

I will console myself with something I learnt from Joe Beer at the Algarve training camp two years ago. He said you don't need to do too many hard sessions. Research with successful athletes showed they did a surprisingly high proportion of their mileage at an easy pace. If you think of an 80:20 distribution and you do 30 miles a week then you should only by doing 6 miles hard (and even that was not strictly necessary – and certainly not at my standard).

Back On My Feet: a running charity

The one thing I did not do in my last post was talk about the underlying truth of the differing attitudes to running. I found the fragment of dialogue entertaining enough on its own. However it was interesting that the son had a very good case and was solid in his attitude that exercise helps prevent illness and thus saves lives, and that preventative medicine is the medicine of the future. However the emotional weight in the play is with the scepticism of the father, who comes across as intellectually sharper and funnier. It is a good example of how a person can be put on the defensive by tone rather by through logic.

However in real world things are changing. I had a doctor's appointment yesterday and on the video screen in the waiting room were images of healthy people running with encouragements to exercise to help prevent a number of illnesses. It is amazing how you can write something one day and then coincidentally see something else that is related (actually it is not that amazing but that doesn't stop you thinking 'what a coincidence!' every time it happens).

I then came across something far less trivial:an example of how running can be used to turn round the lives of homeless people. Back On My Feet is a charity in Philadelphia that uses running as a way of building self esteem. The website clearly states its mission and is well worth a visit. I will just reproduce a couple of quotes:

To solve any problem you have to get at its core. We have all been on rocky roads in life and some people have unfortunately found themselves on a road without a home. BOMF does not provide food for the homeless nor does it provide shelter. While those are very important basic needs that all human beings deserve, we provide a program that teaches people to believe in themselves because it doesn't matter if you have 20 homes or 0 homes; if you don't have confidence in yourself it's very difficult to move forward.

We use running as a vehicle to show individuals they are capable accomplishing goals...but it's not going to happen overnight - it takes hard work, dedication and perseverance. BOMF focuses heavily on teamwork - when we run, we run as a family and we support, encourage and motivate each other every step of the way. No one ever runs by themselves because life is a lot harder when you go through it alone.

The rational is supported by a quote from a paper from the American Heart Association about the benefits of exercise:

"...compared with sedentary individuals, active persons are more likely to be better adjusted, to perform better on tests of cognitive functioning, to exhibit reduced cardiovascular responses to stress, and to report fewer symptoms of anxiety and depression.”

Running in Literature iii - The Vertical Hour

The vertical Hour is a play by David Hare concerned with the relationship between private attitudes and public events. It starts with a definition of politics being about ways to reconcile the differing desires of people and then shows how the failure to do that in the character's personal lives has led to a certain amount of wreckage.

The bulk of the play involves three people talking. The son is a capable person, a successful physiotherapist, now living in America. His girlfriend is an academic,who had previously been a war reporter, supported the war in Iraq (which was one of the topics). The father used to be an eminent doctor in London but now lives in isolation in Shropshire and practices as a GP..

The father has an unsettling, clear eyed intelligence, whilst the son's temperament is more ameliorating and he is therefore more easily put on the defensive.

About half way through there is a nice exchange about the medicalisation of exercise, and in particular running

S - There is a fine line between formal physiotherapy and providing a client with a sense of well being

F - What does it mean?

S - I've just explained

F - Its not strict medical practise you say, its not orthodox medicine what is it? what do you offer? give me examples

S- Well I've got people on my staff: therapists, osteopaths, personal trainers

F - Personal trainers! Jesus Christ what do you do? do you send people out for a run?

S - Dad!

F - I was just asking a question.

S - What's wrong with running what's demeaning about that?

F - Nothing. Do you go running?

S - No not me personally. I employ people
...
F – If you want to know what I think. Well, I've done lots of interesting things with my patients but I've never sent the fuckers out for a jog. . I mean are you serious? ..putting in all that effort years of study , hard work , what do you do? Handing out those ridiculous little bottles of water and lifting weights?

S - You know as well as I do there are cultural factors in medicine You yourself used to teach me there is no such thing as pure medicine.

F - No but there is such a thing as charging 25O bucks to take obese Americans for a spin in the park

S - You think that's what I do?

F - And there's a word for it too

S - Jesus do you really think that's what I get up to?

F - I don't know what you get up to I'm a doctor not a personal healer

S - Personal Trainers Dad! Personal trainers. Not personal healers. Dad look, I take on people. Ordinary people. You say tell them the truth and stay with them to the end well what about delaying the end. What's wrong with that? Its not ignoble is it? Put off the end why not? Get fit. Feel better. Sort out your problems

F- Sort out your problems? Good God don't tell me you talk to the bastards as well

PS The dialogue is a bit approximate as it was taken down from listening to the radio

At the heart of this is the scorn of a medical man for an industry which charges a lot of money for feelings of well being. The word 'running' is voiced with such a mixture of incredulity and contempt, it is funny (as is the last line). Alone this is enough to make this snatch of dialogue noteworthy.

I must admit it adds nothing to our understanding of running as thats not the really the subject (illustrating the differences of outlook, the relationship between a father and son, and the mixing of medicine and the treating of illness with the vaguer concept of wellness, are the main topics). However it serves to remind us that, from the outside, what we do can be open to a certain amount of mockery.

From the inside though, running has more in common with the rather neat aphorism of what it means to be a doctor: ' tell the truth and stick with them till the end'. Running is a way of learning about our limitations, accepting them and then carrying on.

You Can See Running Everywhere

Adidas branded water

Ice Baths, Placeboes and Culture

Sometime ago I wrote a post on ice baths, happy with the idea that the idea had been tested and there seemed to be no great benefit. What pleased me was not so much the question of whether the ice bath was effective or not, but the demonstration that the plausibility of an idea does not necessarily make it true. It is something we have to be very careful about in running because there are plausible explanations for everything from the design of running shoes to the mix of training sessions, to the sort of food we ought to eat. The trouble being that many of these explanations are inconsistent and some advice comes from a limited evidence base (I am particularly suspicious of nutrition advice recommending particular foods).

It is up to us to test all of these things and find what works for us. It really does not matter if research finds, for example, the ice bath doesn't do what is claimed. If it makes us feel good - it is good, and we should persist with it. I really do believe that the most powerful training effect happens when the physical training is combined with a fundamental belief that we are doing the right thing and we will therefore continue to improve. In other words the belief in an action makes that action potent.

This is the placebo effect and it is incredibly powerful. However there is an evil twin brother: the nocebo effect, where if you think things are going to get worse the probably will. This means that if we think we are in a rut and will never get faster then the training has a double load to carry and it becomes more difficult to maintain a schedule.

We therefore have to believe in what we are doing. But the placebo effect is also mysterious (for example the colour of pills affects their effectiveness) and cannot be easily and directly summoned up. In part it is built on our underlying cultural attitudes, which would explain the meanings attached to colour. It would also explain some of the attraction of ice baths, because there is a long, deep and conflicted attitude to bathing.

I have been reading Clean by katherine Ashenburg, that relates the story of something we take for granted, i.e. washing, and its cultural meaning.

I liked this passage about the gymnasium in ancient Athens:

Greek athletes, who exercised in the nude – gymnasium literally means “naked place” - first oiled their bodies and covered them with a thin layer of dust or sand to prevent chills. After wrestling, running or playing ball games, the men and boys removed their oil and dust, now mingled with sweat, with a curved metal scraper called a strigil. After using the strigil, athletes could wash, either standing up at a basin or in a shower or a tub. Although hot water would have made their oil and grit much easier to remove, there is no evidence that the gymnasiums offered hot water before the Roman period. The manly rigour of cold water bathing suited the gymnasium's spirit and reassured Athenians who brooded about the weakening and feminising effects of hot water.

She goes on to say that the attitude of equating hot water with softness and decadence is very persistent. The British Empire was built on the rigours of a cold morning bath and a modern German expression for a man short on masculinity is warmdusher, or warm shower.

So there you have it: those who like an ice bath after a run are as much following the tradition of the gymnasium as they are acting on an understanding of physiology.

Me I still like a tepid shower but having read this book I realise that I ought to keep quite about this if I meet anyone from Germany.

Just Looking

Although the last post was partly about appreciating the gracefulness of some runners, I like to look at all runners. When I am out walking, on a bus, in a car, whatever, if I see someone running I always pay attention to the way they move and I am just fascinated by the huge variations in style. I don't know if you an make any valid judgements on a persons character by the way they move but you can see indicators like tension, determination, enjoyment, and relaxation.

When I used to work near the river I always went out for a walk (rather than a run) at lunch time. I often passed a man with a rather large belly, dressed in an immaculate white cotton t-shirt and baggy khaki shorts, who ran slowly and deliberately along the foot path. Although he was heavy and slow he wasn't plodding, there were a sort of ease in his motion. It was if he had made a decision to loose weight by regularly running and was carrying out a plan in a calm, methodical and relaxed manner. Every day he was there doing the same route, there and back.

Over time I could see how it worked and how he gradually got faster and changed his shape. But his attitude never changed: the calm look was always there, his running was easy, and his t-shirt always looked freshly pressed.

I know nothing more about that man than those small glimpses over a period of time but he is an example to me. He shows what can be done by sticking plan and not forcing anything. All you have to do is get out most days: be regular and be patient.

Both Were Doing Good

I was rather grimly plodding up a hill when I was passed by two people coming down. The first was a girl, probably about twenty who bounded down with speed and grace. Her whole body was at one as she made adjustments for the uneven surface and moved slightly side to side to find the best place to land her feet. There was grace and natural elasticity in her movements and her face was in repose as if it did not require too much conscious effort. The second person down was a man in his forties running much more slowly. His legs were straight and stiff and the whole of his body was in tension. Whether he was scared to let go, worried that he might slip and fall if he went faster, or whether he was just a stiff runner doesn't matter, the fact was he was not making those micro adjustments needed when going down hill. You could see the effort on his face and his look was serious, a bit grim and full of concentration.

Both these people were doing good (I have this general rule that anybody I see out running is doing good), but oh how I wanted to be like that first person, fluid, at ease with my body, almost gliding but oh how I knew I was much more like the second.

That's what its like you have to accept what you are and work with it but by doing this you are in a better position to appreciate others. I love watching people who run well with good balance and posture. The girl who passed seemed graceful and have a sense of harmony.

“Athletics is still a good sport for the young” Steve Cram wrote, months ago at the height of the Dwain Chambers controversy. At the time I read those words almost as a cry of pain, that he felt he needed to justify his sport when all the talk was about drug misuse, cheating and cynicism. But when I look at someone running well, at ease with what they are doing , their mind and body engaged, it is a simple statement of fact “ running is a good sport for the young”.

One Run, Many Fish

I was running by the canal when a lady called me over. “look at all the fish” she said “there are so many I cant believe it. I have been looking at them for a long time and wanted to share it with someone. You're the first person to come by in ages. Look how big some of them are. I saw a pike down there really big; at least I think it was a pike.”

We peered into the water and it was true, the water was alive with fish. Our side of the canal was in the sun and the other side shaded by trees, perhaps the fish like the light. Below us, close to the bank, was the large pike, totally still, waiting, sinister.

Someone else came by and we extended the fish conversation. He said he had seen the pike before near some tiny moorhen chicks and he had driven it off by throwing stones. He then said that the fish often gather here but the fishermen seem to sit further along . He didn't know why, maybe they have some deep strategy. I was reminded of the Steve Wright “There's a fine line between fishing and just standing by the shore like an idiot”.

The fish were mostly roach but I also saw a perch and I was fascinated looking at them all. When you run you do not see below the surface so I was grateful for this lady bringing three strangers together to share a few moments and look at what was around us.

Bluebell Woods

The bluebells have been spectacular this year. So yesterday I remembered to take my camera.

These really are beautiful beech woods and whenever I run along the footpaths I feel very fortunate. Whatever the shape I am in, however laboured the effort, it doesn't matter. Just being here, being able to move, to breath and to listen, is enough. (listening refers particularly to the birdsong , which can often fill the air).

The best time to run is fairly early in the morning before most people arrive. When it is quieter it is common to see the deer, as in this photo.


In parts of the wood there is just a carpet of blue.



At other times it looks like a lake.

Missing Gene pt. II

Sometimes just writing about something can cause you to rethink and this is the case with my last post, which has nagged at me a bit.

Firstly I worried that the first paragraph sounded a bit dismissive of those who post statistics and properly analyse their measurements. That was not my intention and in fact would go against my whole philosophy of running. I believe that we all have to find the approach that suits us best and this is informed by a combination of our own motivations, physiology, and character. Because of this it is a good way to learn more about yourself and realise that whatever works is the right thing to do. In this way running is wonderfully permissive.

Trying to write accurately is always a work in progress and I often think I have not been totally clear. I am fairly used to putting such thoughts aside and telling myself to do better next time. This time though I was also worried that I was wrong in substance and this is what has been nagging.

My intention was to merely to describe something that has happened in my running – I have gradually become less interested in measurement whilst the general trend seems to be in the opposite direction. But the act of writing about it has made me wonder whether it is a good or not, is it careless or rational?

Coincidently I am reading about the six errors of thinking as listed by Thomas Kida, the first of which is preferring stories to statistics. So by this criterion I am sitting on the stupid side of the fence because I recognise that the best we to see underlying patterns and find the truth of our behaviour is to look at a dataset.

The data I keep is rather limited for this. I have a number of set runs which have names like: run to the border, monument to monument, or famous five. My diary entry is the name, total time, average heart rate, and times for the various segments of the route (plus any other descriptive stuff). These give me snapshots that can be compared and an idea of how I am doing. But I do not keep this data for all runs and often I just go out for a set amount of time.

This fits in with an underlying idea of keeping things simple but it is possible that I could get more out of my sessions if I measured more and kept an ongoing analysis.

But lets go back to the error of thinking and people preferring stories to statistics. In the area of public policy this is common and can be dangerous as a strong anecdote will trump a nuanced understanding of the actual situation (think MMR). However my running is totally my own anecdote. When I run I am looking for stories, whether they are about my surroundings, my experiences, or the exploits of others; I want some form of narrative. So by this criterion I am not being irrational in not paying too much attention to statistics.

It could therefore be that both these statements are true:

My current approach to record keeping is fully in accord with my reasons for running.
I could improve my running by more accurately recording and analysing my progress.

I like the ambiguity. The wonderful freedom of running is that I can easily change what I do, flip between approaches, and find what suits my needs at a particular time.

It doesn't matter what I do as long as I do it consciously.

A Missing Gene

I read a number of running blogs and they are full of statistics. Distance, time, heart rate, often with pretty graphs; its all there. There has also been a marketing push by Nike who have sent their Sportsband to a number of bloggers, to raise awareness. There has thus been discussion of its virtues, especially compared to a Garmin. Some people went about wearing both. I suppose if you are going to have statistics then there is an anxiety them being accurate and a need to check.

I look on and think I'm missing the runners' statistical gene because it all seems like a lot of trouble. It's not that I'm a technophobe, in fact I rather like gadgets and have always used a hrm. But I use it in a fairly loose way and have neither accurately tested my maximum heart-rate, nor based my training on exact heart-rate percentages. Instead over time, and a good number of runs, I have identified the the heart-rates associated with different levels of exercise (that is I used the feeling of intensity first, or Borg scale if we are getting sport sciencey, and then checked the numbers). I use this information from the hrm in two main ways: firstly confirming that things are going as expected, if there is a variation between what I feel and the heart-rate I know something is wrong and I can take action; secondly it is useful for holding the rate down on the long slow run, to keep it nice and easy.

Other than that the only thing I need is the watch part of the hrm. I have a paper diary in which I record time on my feet, type of session and random details such as weather, how I felt, problems, or any strange events. Mileage is a bit slapdash and often not recorded (a lot of my routes are on meandering woodland paths, which I have no way of measuring). I like writing it out in longhand, somehow it feels more in sympathy with the simple physical activity of running.

A couple of years ago I bought a Garmin 201 and at first thought it the bees roller-skates and loved playing with it but I soon gave it up. It took too long to get a signal ( I felt a bit of a ninny, all togged up but hanging around until the machine told me I could go), but more importantly it was not very good under the trees. It has gathered dust ever since and that simple action of rejecting a piece of technology made me think about the information I need and realise that it is not very much.

All I want is to chart progress (or more precisely lack of progress). Although I only have a rough idea of how far or how fast I have run, it doesn't matter because I have a number of standard routes and can compare them over time. That is good enough.

Only the trend Matters

Consistency, consistency, consistency.

I keep on repeating this mantra to myself, hoping it holds the key to making progress. But no matter how often I say it there is always something that gets in the way. Forever I am setting out a programme and then after a short time breaking the pattern. Always it feels like starting again even if the transgressions are so slight they do not affect my level of fitness. They show a lack of resolve and on the whole that pisses me off.

The latest example is the routine of two days on, one day off, which I was really pleased with and thought sustainable. However I have been away for the long weekend, and somehow did not manage to find the time to run. I could have done, I know I could have done, but somehow I just did not feel like forcing it.

So that is three days off – not a big deal but it is the principle of the thing. I feel like a dieter staring at an empty packet of biscuits wondering how they all got eaten.

Regret is however useless. All I can do is put it aside, lace up the trainers, get out, and see how long the routine lasts this time. If the overall trend is upwards then that is all that matters.

The Runner and the Crab

Here is a fable from Italo Calvino in 'Six memos for the next millennium':

Among Chuang-tzu's many skills, he was an expert draftsman. The king asked him to draw a crab. Chuang-tzu replied that he needed five years, a country house, and twelve servants. Five years later the drawing was still not begun. "I need another five years," said Chuang-tzu. The king granted them. At the end of these ten years, Chuang-tzu took up his brush and, in an instant, with a single stroke, he drew a crab, the most perfect crab ever seen.

Although this is a story about how it takes a long time to perfect a skill, it is wonderfully condensed. It says nothing directly about how it is feat is achieved. The implication is that the final drawing is the result of all the life experiences but we don't know if he spent the time in contemplation, study, endlessly practising or getting drunk. In other words we know nothing of the training, we only know there is one final, perfect performance.

In this way the story can apply to sport as well as art because sport is also about those extraordinary moments when a lifetime of practise and trying suddenly come together in a way that transcends all previous expectations. Think of Bob Beaman in the 1968 Olympics (see the Wikipedia entry here)who in breaking the world record by such a wide margin also broke the hearts of all the other competitors. Think of Paula Radcliffe in the 2003 London Marathon, cheered on by the whole of the city. Such moments also bind the spectators in a collective euphoria. For example I can still vividly remember the mounting excitement of the closing laps as David Bedford broke the world 10,000 metres record at Crystal Palace, 35 years ago.

In the fable there is a painting that will continue to exist but for the sportsman there is only the moment. The record books tell nothing of the spirit of the moment, memories get distorted and TV pictures flatten out the physicality of the event. The moment can only be savoured and then there is the next event. Sometimes the magic can be repeated but eventually there will be decline, and that state of grace can never be recaptured. That is the law of nature.

But what of all of us plodders who will never get close to such perfection, is there anything we can take from this fable?

Actually there is quite a lot because it is not primarily about the crab, it's about time. It's about recognising things take time and that you are ready when you are ready. Before that there may be nothing - you have to be patient, have faith and keep going.

And that is all you ever need to know about running

Except its own Furtherance

Today is wonderfully warm and sunny. It is as if the weather has switched from February to June without the intervening months. As a result everybody has come out and the woods and fields are alive with people enjoying the outdoors, blinking at the unfamiliar sunlight.

I have been on the trails in the woods but instead of taking a familiar route everything was done randomly: left, right, straight ahead, all based on what the path looked like, with no idea of destination. I ended up in places I had not previously been, without a clear idea of exactly where I was. Quite by chance I came across a carpet of bluebells, a patch ahead of the rest of the woods, that created its own soft haze of violet blue.

I so desperately want this to be a metaphor for my running: I have no clear plan or any idea of where it my lead me; all I want it to occasionally discover the odd moment of peace, repose and beauty.

As for why this is important I found this is in the introduction to 'Cultural amnesia' by Clive James (there is a neat review by Nicholas Lezard here):

The usual division is to treat our daily job as the adventure and our cultural diversions as a mere mechanism for renewal and repose. But the adventurous jobs are becoming more predictable all the time, even at the level of celebrity and conspicuous material success … The real adventure is no longer in the job. In the job we can have a profile written about us , and be summed up: all profiles will be the same and all summaries add up to the same thing. The real adventure is what we do to entertain ourselves … But even the entertainment can no longer be adventurous if it serves a purpose. It will be adventurous only if it serves itself. In other words it will not be utilitarian. It has always been part of the definition of humanism that true learning has no end in view except its own furtherance.

Well that will do.

More Cheers From The Sideline

So a short time after celebrating the performance breakthrough of Plodding Hippo I really must do the same for my sister and brother-in-law. Last Sunday they ran the Vancouver Sun Run in 54 and 46 minutes. Last year they completed the run in 63 minutes so their improvement is brilliant and even more satisfying is that they did it together and could feel good about themselves and each other.

I am full of admiration because I know of their whole-hearted, honest approach and desire to do things properly. The schedule they followed was the Sun Run's run faster schedule and it shows what can be achieved by being disciplined enough to follow good advice

I am on the sidelines cheering and thinking again of that poem read out at last Saturday's wedding

All the happiness in the world is caused by wanting the happiness of others
And all the unhappiness is caused by wanting happiness for yourself

Now you could logically argue this is not totally true but it does contain a fundamental truth. The great thing about mass runs like the London Marathon or the Sun Run is that they are celebrations of endeavour. Thousands and Thousands of people are wanting or working for the happiness of others. Not only should the runners be saluted but also the supporters like Beanz, who travelled down from Derby to cheer on her Runner's World friends.

Yes it is good to cheer on the achievements of others.

Continuity

Over the weekend I attended a rather wonderful wedding in the New Forest. In some ways it was a reminder of how weddings used to be before the growth of the 'wedding industry'. A group of relatives and friends gathered for a simple ceremony before going to the pub for the reception. The pub was old with low ceilings and oak beams and outside, all around, were the trees of the forest, fresh green with the new growth of leaves, and soft with the mist of rain that had just stopped. All was continuity: a wedding, a new beginning, celebrated in a place that had seen many such celebrations through the generations, in a landscape that had retained its character for hundreds of years.

In the ceremony there had been two readings. One was a poem by John Donne, the other a poem by a Buddhist poet. As I looked out at the trees I thought of Buddhist verse.

It is difficult to cover the world in leather but if two feet can be shod then the task can be accomplished.

How many times had these paths and roads been covered in leather? I saw myself running, covering a small part of the world, leaving little trace, part of a history of animals and people who had covered the same ground. Again I saw continuity.

Continuity is not a reason for running but, if you do run, it is one of its characteristics. You are doing what your ancestors did, what you were evolved to do. You pass through the landscape one run leaving little mark but over time paths are worn. You follow the paths of those who had gone before.

Looking at the trees of the New Forest and remembering my runs through the woods of Ashridge it was undoubtedly a romantic notion. But if you cannot entertain romantic notions when at a wedding, when can you?

P.S. the quote is only approximate. I have an atrocious memory for verbatim quotes. In this case I could not check the wording as I did not catch the name either of the poet or the title of his poem

Cake

One of the traditions of cycling is the cake stop. It makes an outing pleasantly English to pop out for a nice cup of tea and a piece of cake – it gives a focus for the route.

The National Trust tea room at Ashridge is perfect as they serve the tea in a mug and their cakes are home made. The cakes are so well regarded the man who makes them was persuaded to produce a little book with all the recipes.

Although there is not the same tradition in running (i.e. you don't want to break off in the middle),this place is quite important in my training. It is the start point for one of my circular routes and when I finish I am particularly partial to their chocolate, walnut brownie.

Why bother with sports bars or recovery drinks when you can have a mug of tea and a brownie?

P.S. The cake book showed the importance of good proof reading. It had to be withdrawn and then reprinted as ingredients were missed out in a couple of the recipes (in one case it was flour!)

P.P.S. As you can see from the photo my bike is a Planet X Kaffenback. I have to make sure it lives up to its name.

Plodding Hippo is Pretty Nippy

One of the great things about running is that you can take genuine delight in the achievement of others. Because we have internal goals that are untarnished by the accomplishments of others, we can look with a clear eye at and enjoy other people's successes. From the fast to the slow there is an awful lot to celebrate.

The London Marathon is, of course, full of stories of wonderful accomplishments but the one that gives me the most pleasure is of someone who has broken her personal best by such a wide margin she will have to start a new page and look at herself as a different type of runner. Plodding Hippo had previously run over 70 marathons, not broken 5 hours and thought of herself of someone who chugged around at the back. On Sunday she not only broke 5 hours she broke 4hrs 30. Brilliant.

It just shows what determination, consistency and character can do. However I reckon the biggest challenge will be changing her self image. It takes a long time and whilst the mind is coming to terms with the new found speed it can act like a brake.

Anyway all I want to say, if she still reads this blog, is many congratulations

Proust, the Squid and the Runner

This is from a review of the book Proust and the squid.

... reading has given us "the gift of time"- time when our thoughts can move beyond the words on the page to new levels of understanding, time to think the unthinkable. Reading is not just about absorbing information and finding ready-made answers; it is thought-in-action. There are no pre-packaged answers in life. "We can receive the truth from nobody," said Proust; "we must create it ourselves."

If you just substitute the word 'running' for 'reading' this quote is a description of what I am doing plodding along in Ashridge or by the canal.

So if anybody asks you 'why are you doing running?' you can reply “I am just testing something that Proust once said”. (You will then be slapped round the chops for being a bit of a pretentious fop).