This kiddie is smoking!!

Well, well it's been almost like a return to old times. And, as Bobby Davro would say, "What a week and a bit I've had"!

I have kept up my new Olympic Gold Medal Winning regime which I've found OK, though Ernie has been a bit lonely. I've not even been out in the Transit for a couple of tubes, choosing instead to stay at home and focus on winning races. No pies, no kebabs, no tubes. God isn't life chuffing boring??

But I suppose you get out of life what you put in and so it was with a keen interest that I dragged myself off to Caravan County last week to feature as an elite runner in the Faversham 10K. Well, Ronettes, all I can say is ... what a revelation I was.

I only went and pasted the rest of the high class field by recording my fastest 10K time since 2007. An hour and a minute precisely was my time and it brought back such happy memories seeing people coughing and spluttering in my wake and to hear and feel too the warmth of the crowd as they collectively gasped in amazement and wonder.

A truly marvellous athletic spectacle it must have been.

But there was more to come. After another week of living like a sodding monk - I hope I don't sound too resentful about my current enforced living regime? - it was another bash at the half marathon yesterday. We popped back to Caravan County for the Folkestone Half Marathon and my objective was to dip below 2 hours 20 minutes. Well the day dawned and we were subjected to some fierce winds and a biting cold morning. To be honest I didn't really fancy it but I couldn't let down the hundreds of people who had turned out to watch me so as I lined up with a load of ordinary people I decided to give it a bash. My strategy was to try and maintain 10 minute mile pace for as long as possible and then coast home - hopefully below that 2 hours 20 mark.

Well something must have clicked in this Olympic body of mine because after 6 miles my watch showed 59 minutes. After 8 miles, it showed 79 minutes; after 9 mile 99 minutes - you getting the picture Ronettes? Indeed after 12 miles, I was on 1 hour 59 minutes. There was a slight glitch at 12.5 miles when I came up against a ruddy big hill and I decided to have a little stroll, but I then sprunt for the line to finish in 2 hours 12 minutes 39 seconds. That was 7 minutes (or half a minute per mile) faster than my target; 15 minutes quicker than my last half two weeks ago and my fastest half marathon since February 2008.

Now if that doesn't seal my place in the Olympic squad God knows what will.

Mind you the effort involved was a tad too much for this finely toned body of mine and some three or four hours later I had something of a funny turn - the Half Share had to pour sugar in my mouth to stop me from slipping into some form of coma thing - but let me tell you the effort was worth it.

That leaves me with just a couple of targets left before leaving for Indialand next month.

This Sunday we're going to practice running up the Himalayas by doing the Lewes Downland 10 Mile race and then we're up in the midlands for missionary work and I'll be starring in the Mansfield 10K, where my target is to complete my first sub 1 hour 10K in yonks. The week afterwards we're in Amsterdam where I'll be gunning for a sub 2.10 Half Marathon and then two days later we fly off to Delhi.

So all in all I seem to be peaking at just the right time. Mentally I am focused as well and I've not even sent in a letter of complaint about being passed over for the England team at the Empire Games next week. Mind you, as soon as the selectors see the results from Folkestone yesterday there will be the smell of blood in the air in Delhi amongst the blazers.

Keep on tapering.

Ron

Back with a vengeance

The training has been going very well if I may say so myself. I've upped my mileage, increased my work rate and started going down to Stallones for something other than an ogle at the ladies in Lycra (there's no hiding place wearing that stuff, you know).

I've also cut out the legendary Ron refuelling sessions and taking to eating this unusual foreign stuff for my lunch - I think they call it salad or something. Anyway the upshot is that I'm not carrying the kind of baggage I was the other week and as a consequence my running performances have improved dramatically. So much so that I'm bound to be a shoe in for the Empire Games.

My first challenge was to up my racing distance and the half marathon was next on the Ron list. Last Sunday I starred in the Kent Half Marathon held up in Caravan County in Margate. Now if you want to see at first hand the effects of a nuclear holocaust then Margate's the place for you. It makes Toxteth look like Mayfair. However, this kiddie wasn’t there for sightseeing - I was there to win.

My underlying objective was to get round the course with as little walking as possible and, Ronnettes, I managed just that. I had the occasional, teensy weensy walk but nothing too much and I reckon I ran well over 12 miles of the course. I finished in just over 2 hours 31 minutes - so I guess that put me in the top ten, so I can't grumble.

Next up this weekend just passed was a trip with the old soaks from Nice Work. I haven’t been away with them for a few months so it was good to catch up with some old friends. And my how old they were too!! But our destination for the weekend was a place called France. We set off on Saturday morning and ended up around lunchtime in a place called The Somme where there was a fight with the Germans once.

We had a very agreeable day on Saturday doing the old touristy bit. Of course it made a real change for me. France is a place I can go without being bothered and I'm virtually unrecognised by the majority of the Frogs. Well, so I thought, but I snuck off to a little bar for a tube or three and happened to pick one I'd been in last year and ... ahem .. well I kind of left without paying the bill. Anyway, that little domestic incident out of the way and I planned an early-ish no-kebab night.

Then I was dragged out for a nightcap.

Well I ask you. I spend all week living like a nunk, starving myself and refusing all tubes and bevs only to let it all go the night before a race. The upshot of it was that I lined up at the start of the Somme Half Marathon with the old nut bouncing like a steam hammer and a mouth as dry as a budgie's cage.

Away from the start - and what do I find? Yup. A Hill. Not just any old hill but a hill that went on for over a kilogram. Well I made it to the top of the hill without stopping ... and promptly brought up my breakfast. Ronnettes, when I tell you that things did not bode well for the next 12 and three quarter miles I am not exaggerating.

But then something happened. I set off on my way and a gentle downhill slope soon had me picking off the backmarkers and after about 3 kilograms I came across a very agreeable young gal who was pottering around and who seemed to want me to latch on to her.
So latch on I did.

In fact we stuck to each other like glue for the rest of the race. The course was hilly and needed some effort but do you know something Ronnettes? Through mutual respect for each other and because we both helped each other in our time of need we not only completed the race without stopping - a major, major achievement for yours truly - but I did it in 2.27.16. Now I know that sounds fast - I came about 7th I think - but it was five minutes quicker than Kent and, indeed, my quickest half for two years.

Impress mange tout?

So I came back from France full of confidence and full of beans - and not a little pride in my achievements.

What's next?

Well I went to Stallones on Monday for a loosener, got in the wrong queue and ended up in the swimming pool. Doesn’t wool get heavy when it’s wet? Last night I went out for a run with The Old People of Hastings and did an hour or so. This weekend we get shut of the Droog as she goes off to spend her inheritance on drugs and LPs at university. That leaves Sunday free so we're off to Caravan County again for a 10K in Faversham. Next up will be two further half marathons in Folkestone and Amsterdam before we make that rather special return journey to Indialand for the Himalaya 100 Mile race.

But more on that later.

Keep on tapering.

Ron

RIP Stig

I always had a feeling about 2010 and sure enough it’s turning into my horrible anus.

My best mate in the whole world passed away on Tuesday.

He was also a good runner and enjoyed his refuelling sessions and, my, could he drink! But I used to train with him regularly and it was only the passing of years and my emergence as a much better athlete than him which curtailed our joint training sessions.

I have had his constant company for around twelve years now and in that time so close had we got that he always slept in my room. To be honest his snoring, sleepwalking, breaking wind and frequent visits to the toilet for a drink kept me awake but I came to appreciate that him doing so tended to deflect attention away from me.

The day had started so well - he went off for his morning constitutional when his eye caught a squirrel ... and that was it, he was away. Diving and crashing through the undergrowth he didn't catch the thing of course ... but there again he never did. In fact he was the worst hunter I'd ever come across. Unfortunately, though, the effort he'd expended was too much for him and the poor fella had some kind of heart attack, seizure or stroke and collapsed when he came back in the house.

His time had come. I think he knew it. And he parted with the tiniest wag of his tail – as he lay on the table in the vets.

He was much loved and much appreciated for his companionship and he’ll be much missed.

See you sometime later Stig.

Of course the demise of the old boy had a pretty devastating affect on the family. With Haille Minogue gone awol somewhere in Africa, the Droog was inconsolable and we were conscious of the fact that The Sod would come home to find one of the dogs missing. I wanted to try and break it to him gently but, as usual, my efforts backfired.

You see I thought it would be sensible to try and avoid use of the words Dog and Dead in the same sentence. But I suppose telling the lad I'd got good news and bad news for him wasn't the best approach - he wanted to hear the good news first and when I said he'd only have to take one dog for a walk the shilling dropped. The Half Share hinted that I could have been a little more sensitive to his feelings. Well, actually, what she said was that I was selfish, cruel, heartless and as cold as a polar bear's backside - but you get my drift.

It’s taken me a while to get round to this - but he was a great mate.

Bye lad.

Keep on tapering (sorry Stig)

Ron

All quiet on the Western thing?

Oi Oi!

Long time no beep!

It might have gone quiet a bit - but that doesn't mean to say it's been ... err quiet.

August has been and gone but my what an eventful month for your popular Olympic hopeful. It was all going swimmingly well until a nip down to see the local quack Crippen threw a spoke in the wheelbarrow. Seems like all my health measurements have gone pear-shaped - well either that or Crippen was reading my notes upside down.

Now I know what you're thinking. How can a super fit Olympian like me have a blood sugar level of 28? Cholesterol levels higher than a Chavettes skirt - and a kidney and pancreas which are, apparently, on the verge of jacking in. Well you're not alone there and you could have knocked me down with a spoon when I got the news.

So, where to from here?

Well first thing was to try and get my blood sugar levels to below their then near-fatal level. I've had to spend the last three weeks popping pills till they came out of my ears; exercising like there's no tomorrow and laying off the rehydration fluid. So far it seems to be having the desired effect with a few kilometers of weight already shed - and those sugar levels down to a still scary - but more manageable - 17 (still a tad above the norm of 6!!)

Of course I got no help from the UK Athletics medical team who seem to have dropped me like a stone just as I come into form - but I'm wasting no time in worrying about them. What's good enough for Wayne Chambers is good enough for me.

One good thing that has come out of it is a dramatic increase in my training - I have races coming up in France, Holland and, of course, a return to see my mates in Indialand next month.

First of all though I had a go at running a 5 miler in Staplehurst. What should have been a straightforward flat run of an easy distance though turned into something of a nightmare. The old health stuff came up nippy-ish and stopped me in my tracks at 3 miles. I had feet of lead and couldn't move - and I was only able to struggle to the finish thanks to a kind marshal who gave me his drinks.

Things did start to get better though as the healthy regime kicked in and I managed to complete a very tough 5 miler the following Thursday in Holtye.

So, it was a time for a break. And I decided to head up a place called the North where I discovered somewhere called the Peak District. Peak District? Don't make me laugh. The only thing peaky were the faces of the poor beggars who have to live in this remote outpost. Rain? Rain? Don't even go there!

However the Half Share said it would do my soul good by living a week under canvas. Well that might sound funny to you but let me tell you after a week of hopping round a bally tent on one leg trying to get my trolleys on and off I was in no mood to enjoy it. We took the Sod with us just to make the tent even more cramped and him and his flippin' sleep walking made for a few entertaining nights.

Whilst we were there though we did get a few miles strong hill walking under our belts - intended to be training for Indialand. And between you, me and the drainpipe I did feel a lot better for it. I have kept the pounds off and lost a bit more and I've edged Ernie and his pub/kebab regime out of the picture. I decided to put my new found fitness to the test - and was suitable rewarded with two fine runs at the weekend.

On Friday evening I starred in the Newstead Abbey 3 Mile Dash in Nottingham. I targeted myself for a sub minute 30 minute dash and came in somewhat below that in 29.06. 48 hours later your favourite globe trotter was the elite runner in the Stratford-upon-Avon 10K. Here I hadn't really thought about times but, on a hilly-ish course, I had to get round the thing without either stopping or walking up the hills. A non-stop storming run achieved exactly that in a blistering time of 1.05.48 - I think I came about 4th.

I've kept up the straight and narrow stuff this week - well I have to with the beady eyes watching over me. This Sunday I have a big test with my first half marathon in yonks when I take part in the Kent Half Marathon. Next weekend I do the distance again in the Somme.

So, you see. You thought I'd gone off the boil.

Not on your nelly.

Keep on tapering.

Ron