OK then - whilst I'm here

I suppose I might as well give you a quick run down of what I've been doing. Not, of course, that it appears to have been worth all the effort, but hey ho.

I've managed a few decent lumps of training in the weeks leading up to Easter. But, as with most elite athletes I have had my share of disappointments too.

March was looking very good. I popped over to Belgiumland to take part in the Ostend to Bruges 10 Mile Race and I had a remarkable race finishing in 1.41.38 which was my fastest 10 mile time in over three years, so happy, happy days indeed. We also had a great time in one my spiritual heartlands and I certainly gave my sponsors at Leffe a great boost to their profile.

Its a funny little country but I do enjoy going there. They're nice people (although I did notice that all the children have square mouths - apparently its to make it easier for them to eat chips) and they are always very hospitable. And, of course, they certainly know how to make a beer. Its also great for running because its mainly flat too! I'll be back Belgiumites!

But what happened after Belgium? Hmm a familiar story Ronnettes. I have to work now for a living thanks to this new Government and so because none of my running exploits are sponsored I found the rest of the month very difficult to find training time. I did a fair amount of PR work though - I was the official starter for the Lydd Half Marathon (gimme six all you Lydd people!!) and undertook a similar job for a race organised by students at Reading University. A strange experience for most of the students because the race started really early in the morning and I'm sure many of them had to go through a real personal journey to get up for 11 o'clock - so well done you chaps. I'll try to remember to bring some soap next year!

I haven't done any more races since Belgium although I did travel with the Nice Work laggards to Paris for the Paris Marathon a couple of weeks ago. I didn't want to run the thing and so I was there as a kind of ambassador for this great country of ours - though if I'd know then what I know now I wouldn't have bothered (yes I am bitter, Coe).

But as we were standing beneath their fake Blackpool Tower the realisation hit me that I wouldn't be able to make one of my biggest appearances of the year - and so I made the decision to withdraw from this year's London Marathon. I am aware, of course, that my decision not to run was greeted with dismay by most (the Kenyans, of course, were delighted) and I just hope that the event was able to recover at least financially. I did offer to lend my mankini to Gordon Ramsay but he was already running in a plastic bum costume so I'll hopefully be able to use it again next year. And you can rest assured that there will be a next year - because take it from me, this kiddie will be running at least one great Marathon on the streets of London in 2012. And my entry has already been confirmed - so stick that in your fridge and smoke it Coe-ey. Take note too Lord Coe - the London mMrathon will always be better than your little one off event. And we'll have better costumes.

But life is for living and as Moira Stewart says 'Let's not get too bitter Henry'. So, I have picked up my running boots and carried on with my training.

My goal for the year now is to train up for an August Marathon and I have decided to take part in the Reykjavik Marathon in Iceland - how cool is that? Iceland is a bleak, desolate landscape with featureless communities full of people who never see daylight from one month to the next. So, to acclimatise I went to the Isle of Wight last weekend and did an 8 mile training run - my longest run since Bruges. On Tuesday evening I also went out with the Old People of Hastings for a tough 6 mile hilly run. Both should hold me in good stead for my next race - which is on Good Friday. The Folkestone 10 is a decent race and I'll be looking to post my fastest Folkestone time since 2007 - and I will if I can dip below 1 hr 47 minutes.

Next Friday I'll be popping over to Bexhill to take part in a little 5K race to celebrate the Royal Wedding (I know, another invite I got. Not.).

So, I'll be back soon to see if we have sorted out this little Olympic entry business thing.

In the meantime - have a good Easter, Ronnetes and may all your eggs be unfertilised.

Keep on tapering.

Ron

On the crest of a slump

Sometimes its very, very difficult being an elite athlete.

You see, because I am one of the leading lights in the sport, I have to ration my time very precisely so that all my sporting priorities are placed very firmly where they should be - and this sometimes causes me some difficulties when people say to me 'Hey Ron, why the big silence?'.

And without being patronising, the fact of the matter is that if I spent all day writing replies to fan letters, jotting down my thoughts on this, that and the bally other, sorting out begging letters (though I don't send many these days) then I'd have very little time left for the proper things in life. I mean sometimes its a heck of a job for Ernie and I to try and slip away for a hard earned tube - sometimes we can only get a couple of hours a day.

So the next time you start whingeing and having a go at me for not doing my Internet thing - just remember that, OK? And if that appears heartless and cruel well then you'll just have to deal with it won't you?

You may by now sense that your man here isn't in the best frames of mind - and you know what? You're dead right. Why? I'll flippin' tell you why.

I have given my all for this great country of ours. I've made sacrifices - some of them have cost me money too, I can tell you; I've shed blood, sweat and other body fluids for Queen, Country and Cameron; I've worn my vest and underpants with pride; and you know what? In most cases I've done it without demanding anything back in return (apart from a few exes for me and Ernie and the van).

I've travelled the globe competing on behalf of this great country of ours - sometimes I've even embraced the Welsh in my quest to see Great Britain reach the peak of sporting number one-ness. And if I'd have known now what I knew then, you know what? I might not have bothered. Remember - when I first started running it was just so I could hear that heavy breathing stuff again. I had no great ambitions for myself in this sport other than maybe to appear at an Olympic Games. My mind often drifts. And sometimes it drifts back to those days all those years ago when I first started puinding the pavements. There was nothing like getting up at 5 in the morning, doing a quick six miler and then jumping into an ice bath. Indeed, there is still nothing like it. That's why I've never done it.

But what have all these achievements and sacrifices got me? Nowt is the short answer. Well nowt but a kick in the teeth with a size 10 Timpson.

Because today I have just received my Olympic notifications. Not,as you would expect, my number, safety pins, baggage label, van parking instructions etc Nope - I've received ... an invitation to apply for tickets!!

Let me just run that by you again so that it sinks in.

After all these years of toil and sweat ... they have sent me an invitation to apply for tickets. That is tickets - to buy. Tickets ... to watch. I am shattered, I don't mind confiding in you. And do you know what? I don't even know if I have the mental thingy to go on.

To add insult to perjury, they're not even VIP tickets. Plus - and here's the rub. They are expecting me to pay!! What planet do these people live on?? Do they send a letter to Ces Fibreglass asking him if he wants to buy a ticket to watch Manchester United win the Premiership? Do they send a letter to Bobby Davro asking him if he wants to buy a ticket to watch Britain's Got Talent? I don't think so, do you? So, what's going on your Lord Coeship?

(Just an observation by the way, I don't understand why they're selling Olympic tickets anyway - they might as well just give them to blokes from Liverpool and save a lot of messing about - they always end up with them anyway).

Well you're hearing this here now first - and this includes you Lord Coe. If you think that this kiddie here is going to buy tickets to watch a bunch of second rate athletes, who can't hold a candle to me, puff and pant their way round and round a running track - then think again. And another thing Coe-ey - you have exactly one week (well, OK a week and a bit because its a bank holiday) to get my number and pins in an envelope and round here to Ron Towers. Pronto you understand?

And you know what happens if I don't get them?

You can stick your Olympics up your Oxo Tower mate - and I'll go to a country that does want me. Yes, I mean exactly that. If Jack Charlton can pretend to be another country person - like an Irish man then so can I. So, from May 1st - I will become a proud member of Burkino Faso's Olympic Marathon Squad.

Ernie - get the paint ready. the van might need a makeover.

Keep on tapering

Ron.