It’s been a
little while since you last heard from me and as a result I’ve been literally
inundated with a question about whether I’m still running. Well, yes I am and the
quick explanation for having been so quiet is that I have a baby. The long
explanation is broadly similar, but involves me discussing dirty nappies and explaining
why only a glass of wine and putting my feet up appeals by the time I finally
get her to sleep on a night.
I’d offer to
bring you up to speed, except that speed looks as remarkably lethargic,
pain-staking and in need of serious hydration as when I last blogged. At least I’m
assuming that’s how it looks from the outside because that’s certainly how it
feels!
Gary
Neville, the pubescent-voiced ex-Man Utd footballer-turned-commentator who
everyone has raved about this season, said in December when asked about what
lies ahead that “these are what I like to call ‘the winter months’.”
The chances are that, even when I haven’t had the sniffles these past few months, within 10 seconds of stepping out into freezing cold drizzle I soon would. And that presents a dilemma. Whereas footballers choose to press one finger against a nostril whilst blowing out the contents of the other one (generally waiting until the cameras are on them) in the real world we’re taught to be a little more dignified.
Except have
you ever tried blowing your nose whilst running? I’ve done the legwork
(ba-dum!) and discovered it simply isn’t possible. Reaching in and getting a
tissue out of your pocket, though tricky, makes you temporarily choose between
running with a one-handed motion, or more embarrassing yet, with neither if
you’re having to rummage about. Then trying to blow your nose whilst exhaling
and out of breath becomes as difficult and frustrating as circling your foot on
the floor in one way and your hand on your tummy the other. (Bet you try it!)
So as
unappetising as it is I had no choice but to try the footballers’ solution.
Only afterwards, with evidence of my cold splattered across my running top, did
I realise why they only do it when they’ve slowed down to walking pace.
Which leaves
no alternative but to ‘hock’ and spit. Again, it’s only experience that teaches
you to first think about the wind direction before doing so and avoid
re-designing your outfit for the worse. What concerns me most however is that whereas
in the isolation of the local countryside I’m free to break as many of these
social taboos as I like, when it comes to race day not only am I going to be
self-conscious in full view of thousands of spectators, but how bad would it be
to accidentally spit on another competitor? Though at least you’d have the
incentive of running faster because someone would no doubt be chasing after
you….
And I’m
afraid these unsavoury considerations don’t stop there. Paula Radcliffe got
chastised for it but what happens when there’s other urgent matters to attend
to? My whole preparation for a long run is governed by what I’ve consumed to ensure
I’ve eaten and drunk the right amount, and left long enough for it to digest before
going out. But when you’re busting you’re busting and again I’m not sure the
Great North Run will provide many isolated trees to stop behind. On one
occasion I downed a pint of water 5mins before leaving the house and got only
100 yards down my street before regretting it. A combination of waiting until
the dehydration process kicked in together with other aches and pains taking my
mind off it made for the most unpleasant half an hour I’ve had since being in
the crowd when UB40 came on stage at Live 8.
Worse yet
those who follow my progress on the Runkeeper app (to the right of this page)
will have seen the noticeably shorter run I did at the end of last month when,
having thrown in a few interval training sprints, I got to the mile point and
realised I was in desperate need of a poo. I hoped it was just a fart but
couldn’t risk it in case I was wrong and created some horrible Hansel and
Gretel anecdote. So having turned round I was left in the unenviable position
of either running home in extreme discomfort (and the style of an Olympic
fast-walker – must be how they refine their technique) but reducing the length
of time before that was resolved or walking home but having to wait twice as
long.
(The expression on the man 20 seconds into this will help make things clear)Even more embarrassing (you thought and hoped this wouldn’t be possible I know) is the readjustment process required when my expensive specialist running gear is rubbing me up the wrong way. Thank God I’ve still got time to iron out these problems before the big day because several times (when I hope I’ve literally been nowhere to be seen) I’ve run for a good 10 seconds in a frantic waddle action with both hands trying to pull down the hemline of the asphyxiating elastic in my underwear that’s threatened to squeeze the life out of my manhood. Or trying to ease the pain being inflicted by the excruciating chaffing caused by my lycra running shorts. I will quickly stress on the embarrassment front that I do wear something over the lycra, I’m not quite yet a walking episode of Modern Family.
But fear not
reader for I’m here to go through all these moments of personal anguish,
discomfort and red raw agony in the hope that if you ever choose to do similar
you’ll learn from my mistakes. Or maybe decide it’s not worth the bother.
I realise
today’s topics have been a little crude and graphic so hope I haven’t offended
anyone. Writing this is a little glimpse into the world of being an author, all
of whom must wonder what their readers’ reactions will be. I’m not ashamed to
admit being a fan of Sex And The City in
which the lead character Carrie, a newspaper columnist, precedes the title of
her weekly column in each episode with an inner monologue that ends “…which got
me wondering…” Well I’m glad to say that the title of today’s blog wasn’t the result of any such inner turmoil and better yet not the name of a condition I’m suffering from as a result of the aforementioned chaffing. It was however a suggestion made to me at a recent dinner party at which I was able to share some of these troubles from the past few months, and so see first hand what the reaction might be.
And the
reaction was that half the guests appeared to lose their appetite, hence why I took the trouble
to recommend you finish what you were eating before reading.
MM
0 comments:
Post a Comment