One foot on the podium

Today is a very significant day indeed for us all.

According to some numpty in the Olympic press office it is exactly 2012 days to the 2012 Olympics. Good God – how many lottery tickets were sold to pay for that stunning piece of information? And so, on this momentous day, I can now put your minds at rest. Start the engraving now chaps – because this kiddie has Gold Medal written all over him!

I had three objectives for the weekend just gone. The first was the latest target in my slight realignment of body shape and mass – target for the week? Two pounds. And how much dropped off? Two pounds chummies! No messing! My second was to stay off the juice again – a feat I managed comfortably and I saw in my seventeenth day of the month without alcohol.

Then, on Sunday I ventured way into Caravan County for the Dartford 10 – my first competitive race of the year. I’d set myself a target time of 95 minutes – a mark I finished comfortably within, eventually strolling over the line in a shade over 93 minutes.

A couple of points about Dartford. First my finishing time should have put me comfortably in the leading bunch but there was deffo some dodgy goings - on because as I passed through the finishing funnel there were a good few hundred runners milling around looking as though they’d run some kind of race. If it was the same race as I ran I can only assume they’d all packed it in half way round.

Sunday was also the day that winter finally arrived. It was a tad parky I can tell you. In fact with the old wind blowing Irishmen across the channel it called for a pretty nifty start to get the old blood pumping. I did manage 9 minute miles on eight of the ten miles – only slowing up for a two minute breather at the end of a tough-ish uphill mile 5; and then I endured a 10 minute last mile up another flippin’ big hill. On the whole though I was pretty pleased with my consistent pacing – and over a distance I hadn’t run for a good few weeks.

There was a decent turnout of Ron fans too and I kept them entertained with the odd bit of Olympic banter and a couple of my Seb Coe riddles – I had them in stitches! They were good enough to leave me alone though as I went through my anal crunches and groin stretches on the start line – indeed there wasn’t a single runner within 20 yards of me as I went through my routine. And I like that. Respect for an Olympian can only help maintain the already strong bond I have with my fans.

Still no response to my letters to Seb, the Sports Minister and the UK Athletics kiddie yet but I expect they have to have my details rubber stamped by some numpty committee or other. In the meantime I’m now looking for a media deal and some PR advice. I thought I’d drop that Max Clifford chap a line – just as soon as he’s finished with that Big Brother girl’s problems.

Saw an interesting article in the Daily Telegraph today (http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/main.jhtml?xml=/sport/2007/01/22/sofit22.xml) which had some young pretty thing doling out advice on what it takes to be a winner. Like me the young girl is an Olympic prospect (although I have to say that I was a touch peeved to learn that she’s already got her lottery funding in place, but that’s an argument for another day). Anyhow this Becky Lyne girlie listed her ‘Top Tips’ for winning in life and sport. Now, how on earth a 24 year old can dish out advice on life is beyond me but I thought it worth comparing her ‘Becky’s Top Tips’ with my own strict training regime – “Ron's Red Hot Recommendations”.

1. Have a goal. Take that as read Becky. Olympic Gold in 2012 is my aim. No more, no less – so, what’s yours Becky? And don’t dare fall for that Podium finish tosh. Its Gold or failure girl.
2. Prepare. She suggests treating yourself to some new kit – did you hear that UK Athletics? Where are my new pumps?
3. Share. Becky says you should tell people about your goal and she’s right. That’s why you and I, dear reader, are in this Olympic dream together. And that’s why Seb and I are the 2012 Dream Team.
4. Start slowly. Never been a problem for this kiddie I can tell you.
5. Add activity to your routine. Now this one gets really bizarre as she suggests, amongst other things ‘Doing some vigorous housework’ or ‘playing with your kids’. Becky – please!! There ain’t no medals for hoovering or Formation Jenga Mixed Doubles are there? Tosh.
6. Enjoy it. Becky – get real. No pain, no gain!
7. Re-fuel correctly. At last, common sense. I recommend Leffe.
8. Have a trigger. Listen to this: “When temptation stands in my way I lift my t-shirt and tap my belly”. I’m intrigued – but I’ll try it the next time I’m in the Rose & Crown Becky and see what happens!
9. Sleep. I like this one.
10. Persevere. You’re speaking sense now girl. Totally agree. And if you can’t persevere then pack it in is what I say.

All in all, there’s a fairly routine week ahead for this Olympic hopeful. I’ll be out pounding the Strasse again this week and I’m looking forward to Sunday when, in addition to a further 2 pounds shed and another five days out of seven alcohol-free, I’m anticipating another sub 95 minute run at the Canterbury 10. In fact, after my Dartford time, I’ll be disappointed not to get down to around 91 minutes.

You look after yourselves this week – it’s going to get chilly.

Keep on tapering.

Ron

All right, all right – I know ….

I know I should have let you know I was all right – but, the bottom line is, dear reader, well, to be honest, I’ve been in a spot of bother.

I’m afraid my quest for Olympic Gold in 2012 has slipped by the wayside a tad over the last four weeks – but I can assure you my silence has been for very good reasons.

For a start there was two weeks of Christmas. I have to say that it was all going swimmingly well until the Half Share in the House decided to pick a fight and start counting the Christmas coppers - after we’d already spent them. It was Christmas Eve and I’d just popped another Leffe, grabbed a tube of Pringles and was about to settle down to watch Men and Motors when she started to quiz me about our spend on booze for the festive period. Then she threw in that old chestnut about athletes and alcohol and, well, before you knew it Christmas was heading south and I was on the one way Strasse to Wrongdom.

What made it worse was not so much that she worked out I’d spent £248.50 on Leffe in December – but my counter-argument that she’d spent roughly the same amount on perfumes, flippin’ bubble baths, haircuts and all the rest of the beauty palaver that currently carpets half the bedroom floor and bathroom cabinets. She claimed that she had to spend that much on beauty stuff to make herself attractive to me. Fine. But, dear God, you should have heard the racket when I put forward a similar principle - that I drank so much Leffe to try and make herself look attractive too. The racket was such that it stopped next door watching Countdown and out they came suspecting murder had been committed.

They weren’t far wrong.

Suffice to say that I didn’t spend an awful lot of time round the Ron house over Christmas. But that said I had an agreeable sort of few days with my mate Ernie. I did pop in – obviously – on Christmas morning to wish the family Bon Noel. And to fetch my bottle opener. But apart from that it was a strange sort of Christmas for this kiddie.

But, of course, true love runs deep and all that. And it didn’t take her long to come round to my way of thinking and I eventually moved back into Hill Towers on New Years Eve. Just as well really – Ernie only stocks Carling and he was running a bit low.

Anyway. to tell you the truth I’ve been on best behaviour this year and having kind of messed up my end of year preparations I started 2007 with a real determination to sort out my body and get myself back on track for 2012.

First though it was the weigh-in. So, on January 1st I sunk my last Leffe around lunchtime, trotted off to the footie, snaffled a couple of Pukka Pies – and returned home to find the scales on the front door step.

Now I don’t know about you but I like to prepare for a weigh-in and, well, without getting too graphic, I like to try and lighten my load as much as I can before I stand to be weighed. But there was no chance here as the Half Share had whipped off my Duffel Coat and thrust me on the scales and, before I could say Paula Radcliffe, I was watching the dial enter uncharted territory. I think the medical experts have a word for my condition. I think it’s called Round. Because that’s what I’d become. A Blob. A Mass. In fact a round, blobby mass.

Modesty forbids me from actually spelling out in English money just what I did weigh on that fateful New Years Day. Suffice to say my target weight loss for my first marathon of the year in April – is 28lbs!! That’s right I’ve got to shift that wheelbarrow load of blobness before I can even begin my first proper tilt at my chosen Olympic distance.

How am I going to do that?

Well let me tell you.

With the same grit, determination and dedication that brought me all my athletic glories in 2006 – that’s how. This kiddie is nothing if not determined.

So the regime has started. And I’m pleased to report that I’ve shed 11 of those 28 pounds already. Friday’s weigh-in saw another 3 pounds heading south and I’ve a target loss of a further 2 pounds before this weekend’s weigh-in.

My marathon training meanwhile is – well, let’s just say I've found it difficult! However I did enjoy a tough 7 mile training run on Sunday and entered this week full of confidence – until I was struck down my some lurgy yesterday. As a result my next venture out won’t be until tomorrow when a little 6 miler is on the cards.

I’ve also drawn up my racing schedule for my pre-London Marathon programme. To be honest this is always a tricky one because naturally I’m asked to appear in so many different events that I get spoilt for choice. Obviously a lot of these running clubs can make a good few extra quid when the entry is boosted by the appearance of Yours Truly. So I do try and spread myself around a little and try to reach as many different outposts of my fan base as I can. I even go to Essex sometimes.

But just to prove what a decent chap I am I’ve even decided to make a couple of appearances in Kent and so watch out you Ronners in Caravan County as I make a guest appearance at this Sunday’s Dartford 10 Mile event. I have a soft spot for Dartford – they always put on good events and it’s the home of one of my favourite girlie runners. I’ll spare her any embarrassment by revealing her true name. So lets call her Cara - cos that’s her name anyway.

The Half Share and I first bumped into Cara the night before a prestige piddling 10K event in Nice, in the south of France a couple of years ago. I was injured and being one of those accompanying spouses set about knocking back the stuff in the optics behind the bar. Going great. Except this girl, a county athlete no less, kept up with me – drink for drink! Then at 3 o’clock in the morning she decided to start smoking and I think the evening – or morning - was finished off with a kebab. Well, come the following day the Half Share and Cara lined up for the start of the race whilst I lined up behind dark glasses and another Kronenburg. My missus lasted 200 yards before emptying up over the sea wall and into the Mediterranean. Not Cara though. What a girl – only legged it to complete a 34 minute 10K!

What a girl!

So, its Dartford this week then back to Caravan County for another 10 miler in Canterbury the week after before hitting Essex for the Great Bentley half marathon on February 4th.

Short term targets for your man here are to get round the first couple of 10 milers in as close to 95 minutes as I can – and then have bash at reaching that sub 2 hour mark for my half marathon in February. That lines me up pretty nicely for an attack on some times in February and March. I’ve earmarked a couple of events that I want to do well in. On March 3rd I’m in Belgium for the Ostend to Bruges 10 miler and I’m looking at sub 90 minutes for that one. And I’d like to do well in our local half marathon in Hastings the week after.

But I’ll keep you up to speed with my progress. In the meantime I should be back with you on a regular basis.

Especially now that I’ve got my front door key back.

I’ll also let share with you over the next couple of weeks the correspondence I’ve had with the Olympic people and my place in the Elite training squad.

Keep on tapering.

Ron.