Puddles

What's the feeling you find most unbearable? I'm not talking fingers down a chalkboard or a balloon being rubbed (*shudder*) but that sensation you just can't stand.

For me it always used to be the feeling you get the morning after the night before, when you realise you've said or done something idiotic, something you'd never do sober. I once woke up to find myself surrounded by chair legs and a room that had literally been turned upside down, all done by some disgruntled friends I'd annoyed the night before. Which was genius as my sore head couldn't make sense of how or why I was sleeping on the ceiling and trapped in a cage. Of course the logical solution would be to become less of a tit when you've had a few to drink. Or, in my case, a dwindling social life will take care of the problem at source.

Every so often that cringeing sensation would come when I wasn't recovering from the effects of the Wine Appreciation Society or '20p a pint night' (God bless University) but instead watching my local news. You can guarantee every year Calendar (Yorkshire news programme for those lucky enough not to have seen it) will run a story showcasing a fat kid (ironically what they'd call a 'filler') performing a lousy version of a song to his school/the cameras. What was meant to be a touching story will instead have you wincing and in my case reaching for the remote, unable to watch any more.

As I've entered my 30's however all of this has taken a back seat to a much stronger feeling. That of unbridled anger you're left with when you encounter inept, danger to themselves, chromosome-challenged morons who - and this is the worst bit - have no idea what impact their actions have.

I sense you're not quite with me so let me give you some examples. When was the last time you followed someone in the supermarket only for them to stop, blocking the whole aisle with their thoughtlessly placed trolley, oblivious to you until you have to ask if they wouldn't mind getting out of your way? Or the Customer Advisor on a premium rate helpline that took 5mins and 3 attempts to navigate the right automated options followed by 10mins on hold listening to pan pipe music, who can't grasp the simple thing you're explaining or fix the mistake they've inexplicably billed you for? Or the coffin-dodger who pulls out from a junction in front of you, forcing you to brake sharply but who hasn't checked his rear view mirror in 20 years so can't see you flashing/mouthing/gesturing?

To a greater or lesser extent, you're left with that blood-boiling anger and frustration, not that they have inconvenienced you, but that they haven't acknowledged or apologised for what they've done and so in all likelihood will go on to infuriate someone else.

And it's in that spirit I'd like to tell you a little bit about what I've encountered in my last few runs. Just yesterday I went out, in between the showers, and had only been gone a few minutes when an oncoming vehicle decided my presence didn't merit her changing the line she was driving, thus forcing me to stand and wait for her to pass with my feet in one of the large puddles. I can only thank God I was out in the open country and that it was windy, because I turned the air so blue that Batfink would have been proud of how far my 'F bombs' could otherwise be heard.

Not long after, a woman in a red golf (note how the details stay with you) flew past me so close that some rubble bounced up and hit me.

Now don't get me wrong these people are the minority, and no matter how knackered I am I'll always put my hand out to say thank you to those who haven't scared the crap out of me. But as a rule of thumb I'd encourage you all not only to give runners and cyclists plenty of room but also to pull out early. Not only does it say "Don't worry I've seen you" but leaving it until the last minute can cause problems too.

Twice in the last few days vehicles have waited until they're nearly upon me to pull out. In the case of the stereotypical neanderthal driving the HGV that I suspect did so deliberately, it meant that the 2 cars that were (naturally) tucked up behind him waiting to overtake didn't see me or know why the HGV had pulled out, leaving them to swerve at the last second.

Again I don't want to come across all Victor Meldrew. There's been plenty of times I've cut things a little close in a car or no doubt pissed off others. But I like to think the difference is that I'm aware I've done it and will always put my hand up to say sorry if not apologise.

It was announced recently that the world population has passed the 7 billion milestone giving further food for thought as to, well, how we'll feed them. You'd be right in thinking it doesn't really have too much of an impact in a quiet little
village in North Yorkshire however I'm not one to shirk a challenge (unless it's asking me if I'll do another run after this one I'm planning) so I've come up with a plan. Why don't we do away with all those people who during the course of our day do something that leaves us feeling so angry? Maybe a 3 strikes and you're out rule so that we get the serial offenders and not the accidental incompetents?

Of course if your answer to the very first question was 'meeting people who are intolerant of others', the chances are it's me that you'd have away with!

Meaning

The impact and meaning of certain words can change - take songs for example. Cover versions can give songs a whole new lease of life and even improve it. Have you ever heard Bowie’s version of All The Young Dudes? It’s crap – and he wrote it!

Ralph Fiennes was asked in an interview how he tackled the role of Hamlet, for which he’s the only actor to have won a Tony Award for playing the part. Whether you’ve watched the play, studied it in school or just somehow know it, you’ll likely be able to recite the "To be or not to be, that is the question" dialogue. He answered that he treated it like an inner monologue, as though thinking it for the first time and not simply reciting it, and all of a sudden new life was breathed into it.

Recently the word whose meaning has completely changed for me is ‘endurance’. Without ever paying much attention to it I used to pigeon-hole endurance as sitting alongside stamina, simply meaning long-lasting. But over the last 7 weeks of training I now realise it literally means how much you can endure - how much punishment you can withstand. Much like watching Everybody Loves Raymond.

That might sound obvious but because it’s an ability I’ve never been tested on it’s one I’ve never had a real appreciation of. I’m pushing myself each week to run further and for longer (and am currently at only a quarter of the distance I’ll need to run) so with each run I’m always hoping it gets a bit easier, hurts a bit less. But it never happens. Running an extra quarter of a mile one day compared to the last doesn’t come from an improvement in ability, as it would with most skills but simply from prolonging the pain that little bit more each time. Of course you could argue that you gain the ability to endure more but it doesn’t feel like it whilst you’re out there. Certainly not this morning when I struggled to over-take an OAP doing his best impression of a power-walking Harold Bishop.

There’s been a few times over the years where I’ve made a concerted effort to get fit and joined a gym. Sadly paying more to move from the dingy dissanitary ones to the all-singing all-dancing doesn’t help you get fit sooner (my definition for that always being able to run for 20mins without stopping).  But whilst I always got myself beyond that level I’ve always been disappointed that running has never transformed from something that you can endure to something that you can enjoy.

It must happen to some people. Like those 70yr old lycra-clad cyclists with saggy bums on show who hold you up on country lanes. We’ve all met (usually worked with) the types that are one step removed from being an adrenaline junkie, always exercising and getting a buzz from pushing their body to the limits. But whilst I can look forward to going for a run it takes no time for it to become a will of resistance. Of mind over matter. The only buzz I get usually comes just before dehydration takes hold.

I don’t know whether I’m unique in feeling this way or just haven’t quite got to the level where it does transcend, but the prospect of another 10 months’ training is pretty disheartening at times because of it.

I’m as guilty as anyone for underestimating how difficult challenges can be. An ex-colleague of mine would pass the sponsorship form round for the Great North Run every year and if I’m honest I subconsciously belittled the effort it took (even to do it just once) despite always admiring it. Matt Baker is currently pedalling a rickshaw from Edinburgh to London for Children in Need and I can’t begin to imagine how tough that is.

I’m not saying all this to blow my own trumpet (if only) but to try and convey what the experience (for me at least) is like of training to do a half-marathon. Even this blog takes a lot of time and effort.

Having enjoyed/managed/coped with 37wks of pregnancy, Emma is now officially "full term". In other words our baby can now drop at any point in the next 5weeks, no later. Sadly of course the baby doesn't drop out at all (even if she pinches her nose and blows which she hopes will work) but in fact needs a hell of a lot of effort.

It's amazing how often having a child is likened to running a marathon. Apparently both take “time, knowledge, training and endurance". Yet as much as I might have a new-found appreciation of endurance, somehow I really don't fancy my chances of being taken seriously in the delivery room if I claim to understand what Emma's going through!

Nipples

There are certain things that you just don't do. Things that are just wrong. Like choosing ITV's news/sports coverage if there's a BBC option; standing next to another man at the urinals if there's a spare one further away; allowing yourself to be served before the man next to you at the bar if he was there first; feeling comfortable whilst watching 'adult' scenes with your parents; responding to your wife's admiration of a male celebrity with a list of who you quite fancy yourself; ordering half a pint if it's a pub you plan to show your face in again; or clasping your hands under the table at a sales meeting, accidentally making a farting sound.

Well you can now add getting jogger's nipple to that list. Like all those listed before, this is one of those lessons I've had to learn through painful experience.

So how did it happen? Because on the next run after last writing (typing?), I decided that a bit of rain wasn't an excuse to cancel but would in fact be an important part of my training, readying myself for all weather conditions I might face on the big day.

Within no time I was soaked from head to toe and by the mile point I'd reached saturation point. The football shirt that I thought would be an ideal cheap alternative to expensive running gear had got soaking wet and well, not to pull any punches, with it being so cold my tiny man nipples got cold, giving the sodden material something to rub against.

The same thing happened with my shorts rubbing against my inner thighs, though of course in this cold November temperature things weren't protruding quite as much from that region.

All of which brings me onto the subject of what equipment you need to become a runner.

First and foremost, if you're planning on running even occasionally, do a little research and get the right footwear. It's the most common tip I've heard and for a good reason - not having it caused my knee injury. Don't make the mistake I did of thinking your 10yr old, still in decent nick trainers are up to the job. Even the best purpose-built trainers are said to have a useful life-span of about 700 miles.

Second when it comes to clothing think about what it will feel and (just as importantly) look like when you're running. Feel because you don't want nipples as tender as mine have been and look because you don't want to be self-conscious. I don't necessarily mean about looking unfashionable but more your bits being on show. Personally I've found for example that tight/unfeasibly-small-for-everyday-use boxers are the way to go. I don't like the prospect of spectators waving at me only to see parts of me inadvertently waving back, however combined with the cold this solution doesn't help with Obi-Wan's cape.

Lastly, if you think encouragement will help consider getting the right earphones. Regardless of whether you've downloaded an app for your phone or are listening to an MP3 player you don't want the diversion of putting them back in place all the time, which happens with most that aren't purpose-built. I've tried several (including expensive ones) and am currently using some I found with good reviews on Amazon costing just £6. Sure for that price I've compromised on sound quality, but that's not my priority.

And that's it. There's more I can and will talk about another time but they're considerations that are either not important for the beginner looking to give it a go or only come into play when you run further.

I was going to add to that list at the start not wearing a snood or pair of gloves if you want to be taken seriously as a professional sportsman. But on Sunday morning I set my alarm early and took on the English winter again, only this time the frosty cold.

Every stride I took felt like I was punching ice and I haven't had brain freeze like that since I last ate a Mr Freeze. The low lying sun was giving off unbearable glare that gave me eyeache.

And because of that you might find that in a few months I've become the runners' equivalent of the middle aged blazer-wearing man with the hood down on his convertible, wearing sunglasses in winter i.e. adorned in all the derisible fashion accessories.

A trip to the sports shop today confirmed my worst fears. Not only can I get the snood and gloves but there's also an array of other gear you'd never thought of, including 'skull' hats, luminous headbands and wallets you can fit into your shoes.

My only consolation is that hopefully underneath all that gear you won't be able to recognise me. And that, fingers crossed, my poor nipples never have to go through that ordeal again.

MM

Targets

I'm never going to hit the 5 a day fruit 'n' veg target that the Government says we all ought to be aiming for. Somewhere amongst all the nicknames I go by, the term 'salad dodger' sits firmly and fairly. Whilst as a toddler I'm told I couldn't get enough fruit cake, only one of those two ingredients ever had a starring role in my upbringing from then on.

By similar decree we should also (apparently) all be striving towards another target of at least 30 mins exercise, 5 times a week. This I would argue is implausible, if not impossible, for a different reason. Namely that half an hour's run actually takes 2 hours.

Now I know it's human nature to react by thinking that one doesn't equal the other, but in the same way our subconscious can see £9.99 as a bargain and £10 as too dear, we are being misled. Let me explain.

Up until last week (ignoring my injury) my progress has been pretty good. Times have been tumbling week by week, I've begun to resemble someone that knows what they're doing and I'd become much more efficient in getting from A to B. I am of course talking about how long it takes me to get to the start line.

I once asked a very successful colleague what one piece of advice he could offer that had set him apart from his peers and his reply was simple. "Fail to prepare and prepare to fail."

Now preparation is key in all kinds of ways but perhaps none more notable than in sports, where the 'pre-match routine' has become crucial. Linford Christie for example would mentally "get into the zone", focussing solely on the piece of track in front of him and blocking out all exterior distractions. More recently you'll see the prevalence of athletes listening to their iPod for the same effect, which I remember caused a big stir in the commentary box when Barry Cowan did so in between games at Wimbledon as he tried (and failed, after all he was English) to topple Pete Sampras.

I mentioned that the Doctor recently recommended 30 mins of stretching exercises each day to strengthen my knees. The truth is I shouldn't have needed telling. I quit playing junior football for my local team because of the pain in my legs after each match. A specialist diagnosed me as having particularly tight hamstring and calf muscles, but that it could be fixed by doing certain stretches. Suffice to say I didn't do as I was told and so my new routine is agony albeit should get easier as I become more supple and stretch the muscles more and more. (Why not have a go and see how easy/difficult you find them?) Nevertheless having quickly learnt the lesson of the importance of injury prevention, this now forms part of my own pre-match routine.

Add to that getting changed, making sure all the equipment is fitted correctly and spending the time leading up to my run making sure I'm hydrated and fuelled to the correct levels and all of a sudden my preparation is pretty lengthy.

After my first run back from injury last week the pain in my knees was replaced with pain in each calf muscle from the warm-up. By the time I'd realised it had become too painful to stretch them again, as I should have done in a warm-down which again has now taken on new importance.

So throw in the time to warm down, cool down and get a shower and all of a sudden my half an hour spent running forms just part of a total 2 hours. Suddenly that 5 a week target looks more challenging.

Last week I had a meeting with the regional head of a multi-national bank that sets their staff no targets. Their hierarchy decided a long time ago that for a variety of valid reasons they were proving counter-productive. The result? Higher staff retention borne from enjoyment of working in a non target-orientated workplace. Remuneration based on overall contribution and not short-term success in achieving pre-defined (and commonly based on quickly outdated so therefore easily achievable/impossible to achieve) results. And therefore no pressure to lend money for the sake of it, thus leading to them currently being one of the strongest and safest banks in the world.

I guess ultimately it comes down to whether you're a carrot or a stick person. At University, for example, I'd always leave my coursework until the very last minute and it couldn't be put off any longer. Hence my only obscure claim to fame being that Zoe Ball read out my email on her Radio 1 breakfast show, telling me to go to sleep and that she loves my surname!

On the other hand the Great North Run represents (if you'll pardon the Carry On imagery it conjures) a huge carrot being dangled in front of me, with loads of positive reasons for me to do it.

In amongst the helpful advice that I've had, one or two people have suggested different targets for me to aim for in completing the Great North Run, most commonly beating the 2 hour mark. And there's nothing wrong with that. But for me my only target is to complete it, preferably without collapsing, getting fit in the process and raising some money for a very worthy cause.

MM