Of course I'm still here

Well you know what they say ... absence makes the world go round in a bush.

I know that I've been quiet for a little while but that doesn't mean to say I haven't been busy. It doesn't mean to say I have been busy either but lets not squash hairs eh?

If the truth be known I have been working hard at my technique to make sure that I'm fit and ready for the coming season. The New Year came with a bit of a whimper to be honest - which is a bit disappointing considering I'd finished 2011 with some stirring performances. The old Christmas pud has taken a bit of shifting and I'm back to carrying a bit of ballast. A two week bout of the lurgy which stopped me from even signing on for two weeks didn't help - but I have tried to keep up some kind of training - and as we enter March I do so with renewed optimism.

I know that you'll have missed me though but, as that woman out of the Krankies would say "Tough". Silence is silver and all that.

But what have I been up to? Well, in January I was determined not to undo all my good work in the latter half of last year and one way I can demonstrate that is with my race times. I vowed never again to top the hour mark in 10Ks - certainly I need to be just under the hour if I'm to stand any chance of an Olympic podium place next year. Well my first test was the Bromley 10K - and I rattled through that little bingo in a time of 59.06 which, OK, it met my target and will show forever on the results - but I know that the race was slightly under distance - so I have a dodgy Race Director to thank for maintaining my record! A week later I had an 8 miler to do - the Lakeside Frimley Green Canal Run or something - and set myself a modest target of 1 hour 24 minutes - and I nudged in at 1.23.24, so job done again. It was also a BP for me over the distance - but whilst I have to be satisfied with my performance, it was still chugging around in 10.5 minute miles - not good enough.

But February I went downhill. I got hit with some flu/lurgy thing. It was dumped on me by a couple of the Cash Drainers who after an orgy of tequila and Junior Aspirins at University then start kissing each other and mutating what was once a very nice, harmless cold into a raging bacteria-fuelled flu virus. Thanks kids. It put me on my back for two weeks. But this kiddie has inner strength you know. Because whilst I may well have been fit for nowt I still raised myself off my sick bed to take part in a couple of 5K runs. I did a Run for Heroes event in Swindon which I managed in 30.03 - my quickest 5K in some time but, again, I fear, slightly under distance. Then, just as I was recovering from the lurgy I ventured out to do a ParkRun.

Now these ParkRuns are becoming increasingly popular so I thought I'd chance my arm. I popped over to Reading where the eldest Cash Drainer Haille Minogue is currently squandering what few ackers I have left. ParkRun? This was no ParkRun! For a start there was no Parkie to act as a pace setter; no dog poo to skip round; no ducks, no swings, no ice cream hut. It was just a lump of grass beside the River. And my wasnt that grass heavy on my legs! It took me 32 minutes and 24 seconds to lug myself around that course - probably my slowest ever 5K!!

Since then I have got a few training runs in - I am a guest elite athlete for a small running group in Rye. A kind of local celebrity if you like - I know they appreciate me popping along and sharing some of my techniques with them. They do some strange warm-ups though - not an anal crunch or pelvic squirt in sight. I've also tried to get out and do a few miles during the week. So, at the moment I'm reasonably fit for short distances but definitely slow.

So, what do you do in those circumastances? Yep, you enter a half marathon!!

I'm off to that London place tomorrow to do the Roding Valley Half Marathon. I havent done the distance for three months, I'm over ballasted and I'm knackered.

Perfect preparation!

Next week I'm off on my first European jaunt of the year where I'll be leading the British team once again in the Ostend to Bruges 10 Mile Race. Later in the month I will have two half marathons in Hastings and Paddock Wood and then, depending on how I feel, I'll attempt to win the London Marathon again in April.

Who'd be an Olympian eh?

Keep on tapering

Ron.

That Belgium experience

I'm still seething about my aborted trip to Belgiumland last weekend to take part in the Ostend to Bruges 10 Mile Race.

You see, the deal was quite straightforward. As a celebrity Olympian the soaks at Nice Work asked to me to join them. Well I thought that's what they'd said but the old phone line was a bit crackly. I don't normally deal with the mucky side of my Olympic quest and I leave all discussions about sponsorship and endorsements to Ernie. But as Ernie was away on a Plumbers convention I took the call myself.

Well I'm sure the bloke asked me to come along to do a spot of coaching. Well that's right up my street I thought and I began looking forward to putting some of the old crocks masquerading as runners through their paces. Imagine my horror when I turn up at Ashford and the bloke chucks me a set of keys, points out where the indicators are and promptly jumps in the back and settles down with a brown ale and a Ginsters.

Coaching? I was driving the bally bus!!

Anyway through a mix of luck and good judgement I got the 1956 Bedford Tourer to a spot that looked vaguely like Belgium, parked the thing up and went straight for the chips and Leffe. We had a pleasant enough evening mixing with my friends and supporters over there. I think they particularly liked the new musical routine I've invented - I've put one of my pelvic squirt routines to music. It went OK - but I did get the feeling that not many of the Frenchies had heard of either Rolf Harris or The Court of King Caractacus - but never mind. And the table was old and nearly broken anyway!

Switch now dear Reader to the morning after the night before - and to where things started to tip the weekend downhill. I have to say that I was feeling on tip top form and after I'd got a couple of the runners to give us a push start I got the Bedford down to the start line, parked up and got stripped off ready for the race.

And then some clever clogs Charlie pointed out that there was a bally puncture on the bus!! Well, I wasn't too chuffed but I thought it would get us home - I mean there was six wheels on the flippin' bus and I reckoned four - one for each corner - plus one spare was quite enough thank you. But no - they started shouting Health and Safety stuff at me. The bottom line was that matey boy here had to pull the old Hi-Vis on over my lycra and wait for the flippin' RAC or whatever they're called in Belgiumland.

And as well as standing around waiting for the bloke to come out and fix it, I missed the race. All that way and all I had to show for it was a fading hangover and a foreign Hi-Vis.

A sore experience and believe me did I tear a strip off Ernie when I got back. Well fair's fair - I need him to sort out the commercial part of my sporting superstar career leaving me to free to focus on what I'm good at.

Winning medals for England.

Keep on tapering.

Ron

I suppose you think that was some kind of joke eh?

So, off I set with a spring in my step, a whistle on my lips and a Leffe in my hand. Off to Belgiumland to do a spot of missionary work, a bit of Olympian gladhanding and do a spot of Leffe carbo loading.

Oh - and the little matter of the Ostend to Bruges 10 Mile Race.

Well thank you God!! Thank you, thank you, thank you.

More to come on my weekend in Bruges - plus exclusive photos of the man himself. But suffice to say, I'd no sooner said Ola to my Belgiumland friends than it was Hasta La Vista as the Krankies used to say. I'd just got stripped down to my orange lycra and Dunlop Green Flashes ... then some clever clog discovered our bus had a puncture!

And because I'd cadged a free ride with the old soaks from Nice Work it was left to your man here to sort it out.

So whilst the rest of them were flying down the canal from Zeebrugges, this kiddie was stood freezing his championchips off, stood like a prat in my yellow Hi-Vis waiting for the Belgiumlandish equivalent of the chuffing AA. And I missed the race.

Miffed?

You bet your sweet waffle I was.

Its no way to treat an Olympian. When I've calmed down I'll bring you more information on what was an interesting couple of days away.

So, nothing can go wrong this weekend can it? Well, after a 9 miler and a 4 miler yesterday I'm gearing up for a weekend of personal appearances. Tomorrow I'm in a place called Reading with a bunch of unwashed students taking part in the St Patrick's 5 Mile Scurry. I'm only there because a) the eldest cash drainer, Haille Minogue is taking part and wanted me to take her some soap and b) there's a smell of Guinness about the place. On Sunday I'm in a place called Lydd for their Half Marathon.

What a life eh?

More news soon.

Keep on tapering.

Ron.

Out of sight, out of mind? No chance.

Just a short note to tell you that I'm still here - and let me tell you, this kiddie is smoking!!

I've had a head-down attitude over the last four weeks putting in some miles. I bumped into some old people in Hastings and they've kindly let me use them as pace-laggers for my training runs. They're a kindly bunch, if you excuse the smell of stale beer and woodbines, but if I've helped them just half as much as they've helped me ... then they will have helped me twice as much as I've helped them.

Which I think is fair.

I've not done any racing since the start of the year - it doesn't do an Olympian much good to over-race, although I did make a couple of personal cameo-like appearances at a couple of races in Caravan County. I popped over to the Dartford 10 to see what was occurring and then on Sunday I signed a few autographs at the Ashford & District 10K where my old muckers Nice Work were trying to make a fist out of organising the race.

But my weekly sessions with the old people in Hastings has helped - none of that sea-front-shuffling-for-jessies stuff - I've been running up and down hills. As Amanda Holden would say "Yeah - hills".

I've been trying to build up my stamina and my mileage to get ready for that London Marathon thing in April. At the moment I'm a touch above my fighting weight - well more than a touch entre noo - but class is permanent and I'm confident I'll be in the top three come podium time. Can't wait to lock noses with my old mucker Paul Radcliffe again - that's if he can keep his iffy toilet habits in check that is!

Big day for me this Sunday though with my first half marathon for almost a year. I'm down Caravan County again doing a bit of tarmac dodging in the Dover Half Marathon. The Half Share is threatening to come along too - but if there's a breath of wind she'll no doubt want to stay sat in front of the box with her curlers, knitting and a box of Newberry Fruits if I know her. The step up in distance is a big one for me - I'm not expecting graet things either and if I finish in the top ten I'll be happy.

A week later and I'm the celebrity starter at another CC event - the Isle of Oxney Hot Soup 5 Mile Hot Soup Dash - well at least I'll get a bowl of soup out of it!! Then its up to London for a first time race in the capital since that fiend Livingstone got bounced out of the Great Unfinished City. If I can dodge the needles and dog pooh I'll be hoping I can win the Roding Valley Half Marathon - and then a week later its over to my spiritual home - Belgiumland.

We're there for the Ostend to Bruges 10 Mile Race - again with that bunch of gin-soaked has-beens from Nice Work (Christ, they're getting some mentions today!!). Its an event that I get invited to every year - its always flippin' parky, but there's always a nice beer awaiting!

As it happens I paid a flying vsisit to Belgiumland last week to see the fine burghers of Veurne. A sprightly place with more varieties of beer than there are people. Had such a good time I can't remmber a flippin' thing about it - apart from, that is, some beer called Guillotine.

Give me strength I muttered to the barman - and he did.

12% worth!!

Keep on tapering.

Ron

The perils of being an elite athlete

Its all right for you ordinary people - and you women!!

The last six weeks have been an utter tale of woe, woe and woe again - and its at times like this that you begin to understand what it must have been like when Paul Radcliffe bottled out of the Olympic Marathon in Grease.

Six weeks ago I had it all mapped out - a few weeks back in training and the old Olympic dream was back on track again. Right? Wrong!!

Sure I managed to get my first two weeks of training in - but my attempt at putting that training to competitive use was washed out - literally - by the torrential rain we had last month. “Oh right - fair weather runner”, I hear you saying. Well yah boo sucks as Andrew Marr would say - does Haille Gabriellwotsit train in Manchester? Does Paul Radcliffe spend his winter months in Brentwood? Of course they don't - they beggar off to sunnier climes! Well what's good for the goose is good for the seagull as far as I'm concerned. So there was no way I was venturing out in sub-zero temperatures and hissing rain.

Yeah, OK then - fair weather running.

Things looked up a bit at the beginning of the month though when I accompanied the Nice Work mob on their annual junket to Bruges for the Ostend to Bruges 10 Mile Race. Its normally a gin-fuelled weekend and this year was no exception. Meeting the rest of the party at some God unearthly hour In Ashford and the scene resembled a fire drill outside my local Lidl. However after a weekend diet of God's Own Brew, chocolate, chips and some kind of salad cream stuff and I was ready to rumble on race day.



The race was full of Belgiumites and French people but the rest of the field was OK and they looked on in obvious awe as I went through my new Credit Crunch and Pelvic Thrust Warm Up routine - a routine made all the more memorable with my new tangerine Lycra all-in-one running suit. Unfortunately I'd overdone it a bit on the old Leffe and chocolate bit the night before and the ripping noise on my third anal crunch confirmed my worst fear - there was a tad more of this kiddie showing than I would have wished.

However a tear in the backside of my shorts was not going to stop me and as I crouched at the line ready for my first competitive race of 2009 I felt a surge of confidence run through my body – and down my leg. Although I hoped it was sweat my worst fears were soon confirmed and I had to nip to the loo rather sharpish – and I had beggared up my start.

Nevertheless I soon ramped up and enjoyed the run out – I finished in an impressive 1 hour 48 minutes – and let me tell you, if that hasn't put the fear of God up the Kenyans I don't know what will!!

So, with my season under way I returned to training with the Paris Marathon firmly in my sights – and my are those Parasites in for a treat.

Or so I thought.

First of all I collected a foot injury and that put me out of training for ten days. Just got over that in time to turn up for our local shindig down in Hastings where the Half Marathon is an opportunity for many thousands of locals to catch a glimpse of me. I'm a kind of local hero in this part of Sussex and I always try and put on a show for them – its a kind of reward for all those ordinary people who do so much to support me through the year. Well this year they had rather more time to catch that glimpse than in previous years – still recovering from my foot injury meant I had to take the event rather more easier than I would have wished – and I ended up taking a little under 3 hours to completer the course!

One of the reasons for my 'touch off world record pace' time became apparent the day after when the foot injury that had plagued me in the week leading up to Hastings returned with a vengeance – wiping out another flippin' week of training.

Never mind, I thought, I'd soon be back.

Wrong!! A snuffly nose, a a sore throat, aching limbs. Yep – my annual dose of lurgy arrived bang on cue. Actually I started having an urge to have an illogical argument, wanted to go shopping and couldn't parallel park – so I reckon I've got Bird Flu.

But whatever it is I have got, it means another week without training and my Doctor now tells me that my planned assault on the Paris Marathon is now in Jeopardy, which I can't understand because I was certain it was in Paris.

But the next few weeks do look to be crucial weeks – not only do I have Paris, but three weeks later I feature as a guest celebrity in this year's London Marathon and then shortly afterwards I travel down to Luxembourg for the Night Marathon. All sounds good – but if the body ain't working .......

And you thought the life of a elite athlete was a bed of violets!!

But never let it be said that this kiddie hasn't got bottle.

Like Barrack Osama says “I'll be Back!”.

Keep on tapering.

Ron.

Don't panic - I'm back!!!

Well I hasten to utter the words too loudly .... but ... yup. I'm back.

Yer old mucker has wiped the sleep from his eyes and emerged fresh faced and lily livered to face his legion of fans and Ronnettes. No more hiding under stones. No more dodging the media. No more looking away embarrassed when eye contact is made with an adoring fan.

For too long now this kiddie has been hiding his light under a bushel.

But now its fess time.

Where have I been? What have I been doing? Why have I kept quiet? What am I going to do now? And what of that highly publicised Olympic ambition?

Well I'll tell you.

I began the year on a bit of a low. Training wasn't going well. I only had to look at a menu and another 10 pounds in weight clamped itself, limpet-wise to my midriff. The Half Share in the House was giving me grief that I seemed to love my career as an Olympic Champion-in-Waiting more than I loved her. (Bit of a tricky one to defend that one entre nous). But, to be fair, this kiddie was still pulling in the crowds. Like a kind of modern day equivalent of a road running George Best, I continued attracting huge crowds wherever I went. (Mind you I also seemed to attract more than my fair share of nutters, liberal democrats and people from Yorkshire too, but that just goes with the territory I suppose).

But what really caused me to nip behind the bike shed for a few months was a result of some devastating news I received just around the New Year.

I wasn't going to Peking for the Chinese Olympics.

I know. I can sense that you share my disappointment. My shock. My despair.

Now I acknowledge that my Olympic ambitions might appear lofty to mere mortals but I firmly believe that the road I'm on will lead inexorably to Gold in 2012. As sure as retired 110 metre hurdlers are uphill gardeners. So, whilst I was pretty chilled about the Peking bash, twixt you and I, I did think it would have been good to have a bash at the Marathon. I know that I've probably got another six months training needed to bring me up to Olympic standard. But this glorious sport of ours is not just about winning gongs. Its about fellowship. About supporting your team mates. About flying that flag. So that's why I offered myself to the British team off to Peking as a kind of talisman. Just imagine the impact I would have on the team as a mentor to the likes of Paul Radcliffe and that bloke who jumps.

But it wasn't to be. I got blown out. The team bosses just refused to have me along. I know finances are tight – but come on you blazers!!

Anyway that's in the past now. My rejection though did leave some scars that have taken some time to heal And that's why I've kept myself quiet.

But as Peking got off the ground last weekend, I decided to let bygones be hasbeens.

Its time to pull on my Green Flash Dunlops and get back into the groove.

Ron is back.

Not that I've been entirely idle this year mind you. I've pottered around the fine city of Bruges for the Ostend to Bruges 10 Mile Race; I've been to Paris for the Marathon in April – did it in 5 hours 7 minutes (I think I finished 5th); I've been rfto Luxembourg for the Night Run and to the Arctic Circle for the Midnight Sun events in Tromso, Norway (food was eight and half quid a pint!!).

But the biggest is yet to come.

Because in November I'm off with the Half Share in the House to win the Himalaya 100 Mile Race.

How exciting is that?

And so it was that on Sunday, with around 105 kgs in added weight I took in my first proper training race. I travelled to a place called the North to take part in the Great Warford 10 Mile Race.

Now I don't mind missionary work - but let me tell you that is some distance to travel – but indicative of the sacrifices an elite athlete has to make. It took me some 6 hours to get there – although granted we did stop off in the Midlands to get used to funny accents.

I did OK. Went through my anal crunch routine for the locals then zipped through the race in what I thought was a rather nippy 1.52.33. Now, if you think that Paul Radcliffe is aiming to do the Peking Marathon in 2.20 – well, wow, I'm half an hour ahead of him!!

So that's race 1 under my belt – here's to the next ones.

Anyway I'll keep in touch with you once again. I promise no more sulks and no more unexplained absences.

Himalaya here I come!!

Keep on tapering.

Ron