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.

No panic - 2012 is back on track

Well, I've just proved again that class is most deffo a permanent fixture in your man's make-up.

After admittedly weighing in a tad over the limit for a Cruiserweight Sumo Bloke I have knocked out a schedule and tonight went for a 3 mile wadddle down the Harbour. It took me about 40 minutes - so if that doesnt put the fear of God up the Kenyans I dont know what will.

2012?

Slice of gateaux Ronettes.

Keep on tapering.

Ron

Yep - bigger than ever!

I sat watching the debacle that passed for the England football team on Wednesday night - and I realised it.

My country needs me.

Yep. My country needs a sporting hero and I owe it to my fellow countrymen to get myself off my backside and start to bring a little cheer to the miserable lives of the people in England. Especially those in Birmingham and Yorkshire who have a miserable existence anyway.

"But where have you been Ron?" I hear you say. "And are you still up for that Olympic Gold in 2012?" Well I've been lots of places my little Ronettes but I can assure you, the dream is still very much alive.

There has been a little hiccup in the old training regime department though - which is why never a truer word was spoken when I say "I'm back - and bigger than ever". You see my athletic life simply wasn't paying the bills so the Half Share in the House delivered an ultimatum - either I got a real job or she scarpered. I mulled that one over for a while then realised that even for no other reason than I'd be guaranteed clean socks once a fortnight, it was probably worth getting some work.

So that's how I ended up working at the local biscuit factory. For the first couple of weeks I was in charge of putting the jam in Jammy Dodgers - and, well I just couldn't resist having a nibble or two. And although I've progressed through to Dunk testing Digestives and onto spreading the vanilla in Vanilla Creams, I've been unable to resist the temptations -and I've packed on the weight.

But you can't hold back a good athlete.

I've found myself assuming what can only be described as an Ambassadorial role - and I've visited a few countries to greet and meet some of my overseas fans.

I'll bring you news of some of my adventures in due course - and mark my words there have been some! - but take a look at this list of places that your man here has been seen in:

Norway - for the Arctic Circle
Luxembourg - for the Route du Vin
Amsterdam - for ... well never mind what for
Arnhem - for a quick scoot around
Amsterdam - again, this time for the Marathon
Arnhem - again - for a bizarre race in the dark
France - for a 10K run in the country.

I've only taken part in a couple of UK races since the summer - and pretty disastrous they were too. But I'm now back in training - because 2008 is going to be a huge year for your man here.

Let's see if this little lot indicates how serious my Olympic training is set to become - I'm in for the Paris Marathon in April, I'm in for the Midnight Sun Marathon some 300 miles north of the Arctic Circle in June - and I'm looking at possibly doing the Himalayas 100 Mile run next November.

So, as you can see, once an athlete, always an athlete.

So let's get together again shall we? I'll bring you news of my adventures to date over the course of this week - in the meantime, I'll be sharing with you, once again, my life as an athletic superstar.

Oh - it's great to be back.

Keep on tapering

Ron