Beanz Meanz Timez

So, you want to know the secret of top-notch athletic performance?

Well, I’ve discovered it.

Beans.

Not just any old beans mind you – to be specific, Branston Baked Beans. Let me explain.

As the fog hung like a discarded duffle coat over Sussex early on Sunday morning, your man here swung his legs out of the pit. Between you and I it was a heck of a wrench to continue that process and actually get myself out of the bed. It was bleak, gloomy, cold, miserable – and, of course, it was Sunday. Ahead of me was a 120 mile journey to Essex for my first half marathon of 2007. The alternative was a lie-in, breakfast in front of Match of the Day and a morning with the Sunday newspapers.

No contest.

Because, to achieve sporting excellence you just have to accept that pain and sacrifice are part and parcel of life’s daily curriculum. So I jumped into the Allegro and set off for Great Bentley.

Of course an essential part of any athlete’s training regime is diet and you’ll know from our previous conversations that I place a significant emphasis on ensuring I have the right food and fuel inside me. You’ll also notice, however, that as my date with destiny and the 2012 Olympic Games draws ever closer, my diet has had to evolve accordingly.

Incidentally, whilst the Ginsters and Leffes may have disappeared – my yearning for them remains and it is truly a great sacrifice sometimes to ignore their temptations. (Actually the Ginsters fetish is only symbolic as any pastry connoisseur knows that there’s only pie manufacturer worth its place on the Lard Podium – and that, of course, is Holland’s.)

But the question of choosing the right pre-race fuel has been worrying me for a few weeks now. Obviously, I’m quite partial to a full English – particularly if I’ve had a couple of Leffes and a kebab the night before. But with my new found conversion to proper race preparation I’ve started experimenting with some weird concoctions.

I’ve tried Special K, Muesli and Shredded Wheat but all three to me have the consistency – and taste - of rotting vegetation. I’ve tried poached egg but I’ve always considered the poached egg as the hermaphrodite of the breakfast menu – its not really good, wholesome and filling in the way that a bacon sandwich is. And whenever I’ve eaten one I’ve just been left with an urge to eat a fried egg!

I also went through a fruit phase with a bowl of apple, banana, orange and grapes as an early morning appetiser. The problem there was that within seconds of emptying the bowl clean of fruit I knew I was seconds away from … well, filling the other bowl.

But I’ve had a kind of religious moment. And it all started on Sunday morning when, with just minutes to go before we needed to scrape the ice off the Allegro, we were still scratching around for some brekky. Things haven’t been too good on the old finance front of late and all we had in the cupboard was a tin of Branston Baked Beans and a couple of slices of bread.

And that was the start of a remarkable discovery.

Two slices of toast and a decent dollop of BBB’s later and we’re off to Great Bentley. Now, admittedly there is a downside of this particular pre-race meal especially when in a confined space with my other half. The Half Share in the House does have something of a reputation, with just one glance at a Brussels Sprout all that is required to bring on a rush of wind to rival the Sirocco.

So, arriving in Great Bentley must have been a sight for sore eyes – having had to keep the old car windows down meant the pair of us arrived looking as blue as a couple of Smurfs and it didn’t half take some warming up to get the old circulation going. A huge crowd of people had turned out for this first-time half marathon – and I reckon my appearance had added a good few hundred to the entry list too. A goodly crowd of pretty things in Great Bentley too – and I was faced with a queue of them who seemed keen to have their frontages signed by your man here. So, naturally I spent a happy few minutes obliging.

And then it was time to go. You’ll recall that my target time was a tad under 2 hours 5 minutes. Well those beans did the trick I can tell you. Because I only went and zipped round in a full ten minutes under my target time!

That’s right I finally achieved that important sub 2 hour half marathon that had eluded me for so long last year. Yup, I dashed over the tape, complete with my ceremonial Ron-dip for the line, in 1 hour 55.18.

And for that I have to thank those Branston Baked Beans!

So I’m going to use Sunday’s performance as a springboard for the future. I now need to build on that performance and consolidate this sub-2 hour benchmark before mounting an attack on the important next mark – a sub 1 hour 50 minutes half marathon. That should propel me into the world rankings and from there it should be downhill all the way. By this time next year I hope to be approaching the times set me by my Elite Athlete coaching staff.

I’m also now so convinced about the power of my Branston Baked Beans that I feel duty bound to write to the bloke who makes them and offer my services as an ambassador for his product. Now, can you see how I’m developing my select group of product partners?

So, I’ve a few letters to fire off this week as I sort both my media and product partners – plus, of course sorting out my training partners. In the meantime I’m knuckling down for a return to Caravan County this Sunday with a bash at the Dover Half Marathon. Its not an easy course though so a sub 2 hour performance here could be just that little bit too much – so I’ll play safe and aim for a 2-05 again.

But I’ll be back to you before the end of the week with an update of my progress.

Keep on tapering.


Ron