Bibbetty Bobbetty Boo

You see, you lot just don't understand the pain and suffering us Olympic Hopefuls (I hate that word - it sounds so defeatist - but I can't say Olympic Cert can I? Yup, I can) have to go through.

I'm just back from a short training run - 18 flippin' miles!!

That's right 18 miles. I can't move a muscle and I hurt all over. So, why do I do it?

Let me tell you why I do it.

I do it for you. Not for me. But for you and the rest of my fellow countrymen. You see, I remember the pride I felt when I saw Sally Gunnell win Gold all those years ago. The pride I felt when I watched Seb and that scruffy one battling it out for 800 and 1500 metres Olympic glory. I felt pride when the French Triple Jumper fouled on all of his attempts. So, I want you to feel that same pride when I turn that corner in the Mall and sprint over the line in 2012. I want you to share the moment when that Gold Medal is placed around my neck (incidentally, memo to Olympic organisers - forget those flippin' flowers. They make hardened athletes look like wussies and they only bin them when the cameras have gone). So, that's why I turned out for an 18 miler today.

It was a bit of a milestone run for me actually. You see I'm a bit of a traditionalist when I run - none of these fancy gadgets for me. But I was persuaded by the Half Share in the House to try running with one of those IMacpodmp3 things today.

Never again.

First of all, the flippin' ear plug things wouldn't stay in my ears - so I had to run in a chuffin' hat. And the only hat I could find was The Droog's Barbie Girl pink bobble hat. Secondly I made the mistake of asking the Cash Drainers to put some decent music on. Big mistake.

So, I set off and on comes the noise. And when I say noise I mean noise. Some band called Mucus played their greatest hits and that set me off trying to run to keep time with a drummer out of his pea brain on cocaine - so by the time I reached Mile 3 I was shattered. Eventually some proper quality music came on and I was jogging along to some Gerry & the Pacemakers and Lonnie Donnegan. However the whole thing went south when I approached a particularly steep hill at Mile 6. Hoping for some inspiring music to get me up the hill, I ramped up the volume and just as I approached the hill the track changed.

To Bibbetty Bobbetty Boo.

Yup, that's right. Our youngest, The Sod, had only loaded a load of his kids stuff on and there was I trying to run a hill to the rhythm of some spell from Disney's Cinderella!

It got worse.

I had to endure themes from The Simpsons, The Birdie Song, The JCB Song and countless other kiddie songs. But the ultimate insult happened at a hill close to the finish around 17 miles into the run. Just when I needed the inspiration, the motivation and the get up and go - what came on?

Only the bloody theme from Tellytubbies.

So that ‘whoosh’ you heard was the IMacpodmp3 being ditched in a hedge.

Getting ready now for my first International run of the year on Sunday. I'm off to Bruges to take part in their 10 Mile Ostend to Bruges race. And, in talking to the Race Numptie yesterday I was delighted that my appearance has boosted the entry to well over 1350 runners. Of course, one of the downsides of running in Belgium is that it does tend to attract some of those pesky French types. Not that I've anything against them (OK, I lie) - but they're just so flippin' competitive. Even at the southern end of the field they just can't go out and enjoy a nice run - they have to finish in front of you.

Reminds me of a little race I did in France a couple of years ago. I was, not to put too fine a point on it, struggling. In fact I was last. But I was hard on the heels of this French chappie. To my utter horror he then started to abuse me "Hee haaw, hee haw - aren't you embarrassed by being the last person in the race?" he shouted. Well I ignored the abuse but pointed out that he wasn't exactly going to trouble the engraver with his run "But at least I have somebody behind me" he said.

"Not now you haven't" I said.

And I retired from the race.

Keep on tapering.


Ron