My very first Orient Earrings

Its been a little hectic at Chez Rons with some very sad news disrupting the last couple of weeks. Father in Law passed away last weekend and I'll miss his advice on hydration and nutrition. Lots of things have had to go by the wayside as we try and cope with the loss and also get lives back on track after what has been a difficult few months.

The old man was very proud of my efforts to bring home the Olympic bacon and I know he'll be watching me as I climb the rostrum to collect my medal in 2012.

Training has obviously been disrupted but we did have a family bonding session at the Wedding Day 7K when me, Haille Minogue, the Droog - yep she pulled on her pumps - and The Sod lined up to start the race. The Droog is not as experienced an athlete so it was a Droog/Ron bonding opportunity not to be missed! We crossed the line together in 46 minutes 39 seconds - not my best round there but there again I wasn't nailed to a cash drainer last time.

An emotional evening for the Ron brood lightened by the looks on fellow competitors faces when Haille burst into tears and they thought it was because she hadn't won!

Tuesday evening I went out running with The Old People of Hastings. Highly embarrassing end to the evening when, within 5 minutes of the finish, I suffered a mega cramp attack in my calf. When I'd recovered I discovered I was lost - and it took me 30 minutes to find my way back to the Transit. Such is life on the treadmill of life of an Olympic athlete.

Today I had my first experience of Orient Earrings. In case you've never heard of it its a sport that combines running with getting lost. Right up my street I thought. So off we went to take part in the Ightam, Seal Knole Long Trail Challenge. Run over 7K, 14K or 21K and with a course set through the forests near to and within the Knole Estate. Oh - and the course isn't marked - you have to use map reading skills to visit a series of checkpoints. When you reach the check point you stick your finger into a hole with a thing called a dibber stuck on the end of your finger. Miss a checkpoint or don't visit them in the correct order and you're out of the race.

All seemed set for a pleasant morning's run.

We probably didn't endear ourselves to the Orient Earrings regulars. To begin with we couldn't find the bally race headquarters - not a great start really. Thankfully we weren't alone in having problems locating the start.

The scary bit though was looking at the other participants - they had leg coverings, special shoes, torches, whistles, compass, route markings sellotaped to their arms. The Half Share and I had nothing but pumps, a tshirt and a packet of fruit pastiles.

Oh. And the map reading bit. The Half Share struggles to make her way to the kitchen without getting lost - and don't event go there with the left/right business.

So, the morning was spent in the company of a load of runners getting lost - but getting lost quickly. As it happens we didn't do half bad - the 14K took us three or four minutes less than the cut-off time of three hours. But we managed to get to every checkpoint in order and although our time may seem slow we still finished the race ahead of a load of people who had missed checkpoints - and even after a couple of sherbs in the pub, runners were still making it back to the finish - and full of admiration for our speedy traversing of the course.

I await the results with anticipation.

Keep on tapering

Ron

Montenegro's Revenge

It had to happen.

I have to admit that, much as I like this place, I've given it some stick. I'm particularly struck by the attitude of the public servants we come into contact with on a daily basis. Every building, be it hotel, a hut in a beach area or just a plain old building site with some derelict property - just has to have a small army of security guards. These guards are not picked for their good lucks, civility or sense of humour either! But it's the buses that really get this kiddie. A 20 seater bus is not a proper 20 seater bus - unless it has a driver, a ticket collector - or two - and an inspector of tickets - or two. 20% of the flippin' seats are taken up by these damned officials!

Anyway, somebody in authority has obviously been overhearing my comments because good old Montenegro really bit your man here on the bum today.

It started innocently enough with a straightforward 5 mile run. Which degenerated into a 4 mile torture trail. The heat just got to me. I was running easily enough - but in 30 degrees plus temperatures. After two stops for a cold beach shower and three water stops I finally gave up and limped back to my beach towel thoroughly overheated, with a stubbed toe and not feeling very well at all.

Spot of lunch should beat that though eh? Wrong! The blessed stuff went straight through me and the rest of the day and evening has just about headed as far south as it could.

So picture the scene. Half Share in the House bandaged up like an Egyptian mummy and unable to walk or to hold anything because of her road injuries. On antibiotics so can't drink. Me - I'm just on Neurofen and limping. Stomach so tender can't drink. Haille-Minogue, the eldest Cash Drainer has earache. On antibiotics. So can't drink. The Sod has sunburnt feet and a stubbed toe. The only fit one amongst the five of us is The Droog - and she's retired early with a headache.

Cracking holiday eh?

Anyway, in catch up mode I thought I'd bring you up to speed with a cracking little event we came across a couple of weeks ago. The Wedding Day 7K is now in its 27th year and commemorates the wedding of Prince Charles and Princes Diana - the race was first run on their wedding day.

It was a Friday night bash and attracted over 700 runners for a very nice run through Bushy Park in London. Now my entry obviously boosted the number of people that bowled up - but imagine my surprise to discover that I wasn't the only Olympian taking part! A woman called Sonia O'Sullivan who has won medals at previous Olympics, whilst representing Ireland - which is a small country near Liverpool - was there. Now she obviously wasn't a proper Irish woman because half way through her career she became an Australian! Imagine that! Anyway despite her now being classified as an Australian she was still wearing shoes when she turned up. And by the left can the gal still run! I decided that chivalry was the order of the day and after introducing myself, offering to share my anal crunch routine and asking her if she fancied a spot of warm weather training with me in Lanzarotte - I decided not to belch on her parade - so I let her win.

Me and the Half Share ran the thing though - and we were absolutely delighted when the organisers presented us with a real three tiered wedding cake. I thought it was a lovely gesture and I was half way through my acceptance and vote of thanks speech when some eejit told me it wasn't an award - but that we'd won the bally raffle!

Anyway a very pleasant run out indeed - and, of course another pb to chalk up.

Anyway - must dash - I need the damned loo again.

Keep on tapering.

Ron

Don't panic - I'm here!

What ho my old pining groupies.

It’s so good to be back with you – and I’m grateful for your concern about my health and welfare. The truth is that whilst I am alive and well, I’ve had a tricky dicky couple of months. The running biz has been weighed down with … well just weighed down really. I’ve suffered a few injury probs and these have held me back. So too has the fourteen stone of extra weight I now seem to be carrying – I think I have a medical condition which manifests itself whenever I see a glass of beer or a menu. One glance/sip and I’m seven pounds heavier.

I’ve also discovered that being a full-time Olympic hopeful isn’t all its cracked up to be either! Whilst I can’t say that the adulation hasn’t been fun – it doesn’t put bread on the table! My three cash drainers Haillie-Minogue, The Droog and The Sod have continued making noises about me contributing to their welfare – such as buying them food and clothes. The end result, sadly, was that I was faced with an ultimatum – either earn some dosh out of this running business or, gulp, get some work done.

So, I’m afraid that the running has had to take a second place whilst I tuned me hand to a spot of earning. I was going to have one last bash at trying to secure a place on the GB team at the World Athletic Championships in Japan later this month – but then I noticed that it clashed with the Hove Prom 5 – and I don’t want to miss that event so I ducked out.

Running-wise then I’ve done very little – apart from a couple of small events. I wandered aimlessly round a 5K in Ashford in a dreary 27.02; then a week or so ago I proved that class will always tell when I took part in the Wedding Day 7K – and only purred round in a personal best of 43.02.

OK it’s the first time I’ve ever done the 7K distance but I ain’t complaining!

So, why am I back now?

Well I’ll tell you.

The Olympic Dream is still on course – but I’ve decided to up the ante by sticking a couple of additional challenges to help me on the way.

In October this year I’ve been persuaded to do the Beach Head Marathon and three or four weeks later I’m off to the land of Chianti and Pasta to take part in the Florence Marathon.

Now for those who I consider to be my colonial friends, Beachy Head may mean nothing to you – but let me tell you its enough to strike fear into anybody.

For a start, it’s probably the number 1 suicide spot in the UK – with a stream of people bowling up on an evening to hoy themselves off the cliffs into the sea below. For runners it’s a challenge too – think of your fastest marathon – then add 50% to that time. And there’s your fairly stiff target to aim for.

But Beachy Head is a stroll in the park compared to our 2008 challenge – the 100 Mile Himalaya Challenge. That’s 100 miles in a very hilly part of the world indeed.

So, the training and ‘get back to reality’ 14 day training programme began on Saturday morning and I’m now focused on restoring my Olympic Gold Medal reputation.
But not for me a boring couple of weeks running the lanes of Sussex.

Nope. I’m in warm weather training mode in a strange place called Montenegro. It’s a place where there are more public servants than grains of sand – and not one of them smiles. However, it is perfect for me to reassert my athletic prowess.

So, over the next couple of weeks I’ll bring you up to speed with what I’ve been up to in some more detail. I’ll tell you about your man here’s performance in Luxembourg at the Night Run (you’d have been proud of me!). I’ve also been noseying around a place called Slovenia to look for places to run next year and I think I might also bring you some news on a campaign me and my cash drainers are running here in Montenegro – it’s called ‘Make a Montenegran Smile’ – and we’re failing miserably.

Coming up we’ve got races planned in Luxembourg, France, Holland and Belgium – plus we’re to have a look at the Arctic Circle next month. So much to tell you.

And “Yes, I’ve missed you too!”

Keep on tapering.

Ron