Shoot the runner

I ran 3.5 miles tonight.  I'm tapering so trying to keep it slow and steady before April 13th.  This was more difficult than it sounds.  I was trying to keep to the pace of 10 minutes per mile for the first two miles which is what I want to run the first 3 or 4 miles of the marathon in.  But unfortunately my pace kept creeping up.  

It's weird. Four weeks ago I was struggling to run anything faster than 10 minute miles and now when I want to keep that pace it's virtually impossible.  I think it's nerves. Everyone I talk to who is running the marathon is just itching to get to the starting line now.  Yesterday, someone quite bluntly, as I was telling them about what's going through my mind, simply said: 'You just need to get it over with now, don't you?'

Yes.

Anyway, after the two miles of watching my speed I just let myself go and ran home.   I knew I was doing a decent pace but to my knowledge it was nothing out of the ordinary.  But when I got home and pressed End Workout on my Ipod Paula Radcliffe popped up to tell me I'd just run my fastest mile.  That's ridiculous, when all I wanted to do last month was go out hard hoping to try and improve my shorter distance time and simply couldn't. 

Anyway its given me a boost. A boost that seriously doesn't explain the bad mood I've been in all night. Weird things are afoot.

Oh, and Kasabian's Shoot The Runner came on at the end of my run which I though was apt for tonight's blog.

Keep on running

On my 18 mile run - and yes, I will be banging on about this mileage for a while - I started by listening to the Flaming Lips and Polyphonic Spree.  The epic choral rock music seems to ease me into a rhythm which I do find difficult to get into at the beginning of a long run.  

I was just about ready to find some jangly pop on my Ipod when I met up with another runner on Tower Bridge and we ran together for a while, swapping tips and idling away a few miles. When we separated I hit play again and went back to the Polyphonic Spree.  I needed something else but couldn't be bothered faffing around concentrating on finding music when I needed to find my own running cadence.

Three miles later I was suffering and on a much needed walking break I hit shuffle. Luckily, the Klaxon's It's Not Over Yet didn't pop up, which has done in the past, but more irrelevant tunes from Oasis, Kate Nash and Kaiser Chiefs lifted my spirits.  Then with a mile to go Queen's Don't Stop Me Now took me to a different level.

I chuckled at the reference to keeping going and got into the beat. I then listened to see if not only Freddie's music could give me a boost but if his lyrics cold too.   

How could you not start swaggering, even if your legs are like jelly, your stomach's cramping up and there's a blister growing with every footstep on the inside off your right foot, to words such as...I'm a shooting star leaping through the skies like a tiger defying the laws of gravity?

Or I'm burning through the skies two hundred degrees that's why they call me Mr Fahrenheit?

Or I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars...satellite out of control?

None of it seems to make much sense now but on the run I was motivated.

I'm not a sex machine so I won't write those lyrics in the vague hope that I don't look sadder than anyone getting excited about a Queen song could.  Or anyone who at the end of the song who quickly took his Ipod out of his pocket and made it play again.  

I'm now going to devise a set list of songs that will instantly give me a jolt if I'm flagging through the latter stages of the marathon. Some will be cool tunes including Stone Roses, Courteeners and a lot of Oasis's first album.  But I'm guessing most won't. Somebody should stop me at some point though, I could get carried away.

Thanks Lance

Lance Armstrong congratulated me on my furthest run yet, today, in my preparation for this year's London Marathon on April 13th. I took the congratulations in my stride, put my ipod and its Nike+ attachment back in my pocket, then hobbled home.  (If you have an Ipod Nike+ you'll know what I mean, if not, Lance Armstrong congratulated me - let's leave it at that).  The hobble was supposed to be a 200 metre warm down.  But it was definitely a hobble marked by a woman who passed me while talking to her boyfriend.  She paused her conversation and in her loudest whisper, after snatching a second glance at me, said: 'He must be mad, him'. 

When I got home, my wife looked in horror at me and said that I looked like I'd been crying for the 2 hours+ that I'd been out.

I wasn't feeling great, but good that I'd completed the 3rd longest run I'll be running until the big day itself, until met by these two comments, so thanks Lance for the enthusiasm. 

So, that's my first post on my new blog which will mainly be about my runs, tips I find out about running and marathon training in the next few weeks.  But until the next run I'm off to put my feet up and knees on ice.