Sussex by the sea

Hastings is a curious place. Living so close to the place, I've now got used to its little idiosyncrasies - but now, thanks to zillions of regeneration dosh, it has received the ultimate insult. Some lefty rag last week described Hastings as the Notting Hill of the south coast. Presumably that’ll be Notting Hill without all the filth, crime and deprivation?

Anyhow, if there's one event that really brings out the best in the town, it's the Hastings Half Marathon. Regularly voted one of the best events in the country it is probably rivalled only by the London Marathon for crowd support and atmosphere.

But this year marked an extra special occasion. I was there. And my appearance at this run-fest had caused something of a stir. For a start there was a record entry of almost 5,000 - around half of whom were flocked around me at the start of the race, no doubt looking for evidence of my explosive start. In fact, so crowded was it on the start line that I had great difficulty demonstrating my one-fingered press up and programme of rectal squelches.

Sadly, the race also attracts a motley bunch of mercenaries who, frankly, are only there for the prize money. A bunch of Kenyans joined a few nippy Brits and assorted Eastern Europeans who seemed more interested in dreaming about the winner’s wonga than they did in exchanging training trips with a fellow elite athlete. I decided to nip into the elite enclosure to introduce myself but my way was blocked by some rugby-looking, thuggish type, who insisted that I needed a VIP pass to get in the chuffing thing. When I told him that my pass must have been left at home he still wouldn't budge. So I decided to resort to the, admittedly cringe inducing routine - "Don't you know who I am?” I enquired, innocently, “I'm Ron, Britains's next Olympic Running star - one of the fastest blokes here today." "Well" the goon replied "In that case, it won't take you long to run along home and get your pass then will it?”

Cheek.

But these elite athletes were simply miserable. No chat, no smiles, no warmth. Mind you, you should have seen the look of wonder on the Kenyan woman's face when I demonstrated my anal crunches in front of her! You watch that little practice spread around the tracks of Europe now!

But frankly I found the whole experience distinctly unfriendly and so when I was being escorted out of the enclosure I couldn't resist a little "You wait till London in five years time, then matey" dig at the lot of them. A shame I last furtive cry of “And watch your knuckles don’t scrape on the tarmac” was somewhat muffled by the arm of the goon.

Anyhow it was time to put politics to the back of my mind and concentrate on the task in hand and I made my way to the start line, waving at the hundreds of people lined up to watch me. Coiled I was - like a coiled 12 inch ruler.

How did I do? Well let me tell you that this kiddie ran his little socks off. I ran as hard as I have done all year - and on such a very hot day too. First up at Mile 2-ish is a 2 to 3 mile trek up the notorious hill on Queensway - this part of the race spoiled for me somewhat by being overtaken by a 6 ft tall pig pushing a piglet in a pram and a bloke in a rhinoceros suit. Thank God these ridiculous sideshows will have no part in the Olympics.

In fact, your man here has completed a couple of London Marathons and both occasions have been spoiled by stupid characters grinning inanely in the background of my finish photograph. In 2004 I’m pictured with Winnie the Pooh and in 2005 I've got a grinning Chicken next to me. Bizarrely and for reasons known only to the organisers, as soon as the chicken crossed the line, they wrapped it in tin foil. Now what was that all about??

Anyhow, I completed the first half of Sunday's race - most of which is uphill in a slightly worrying 1 hour 4 minutes - but boy how your man here flew in the second half! I eventually finished the thing in 1.59.02 - but it did take me a minute to cross the line at the start. So, whilst my time was some three minutes slower than I would have liked, in the circumstances, I have to be satisfied. One thing it has done for me, hopefully, is to bury once and for all the curse of the post-2 hour half. Now think back to last year and my target was to complete a sub 2 hour jobbie - so there's improvement for you! So, I'd like to think that if I can run that bally thing, with its three mile toil up Queensway, in 1.58 I can conquer any half you throw at me in sub 2.

But hats off and well done to the people of Hastings. They lined the entire route in their hundreds if not thousands – we had music, bands, churchy stuff and the old ladies outside their home banging saucepans. Made this Ron proud to be a Brit! You can catch a little taste of the race here

This week sees your man here on a big push to get miles under my belt. After Sunday's 13.1 miles, it was on the treadmill for a speedy 8 miles last night - and this Friday sees a biggie - a 20 mile training run, the first of three such distances I need to cover if my London Marathon is not to go pear shaped. The weekend though looks like heading south as I’m heading to France where I'm hoping to meet up with a few Leffe mates.

So, a pretty serious week for your man here - but don't worry, have I got some fun lined up for next week ....

Keep on tapering


Ron