Geek chic

I discussed the burden of glasses in my last entry and it's fair to say it stems from joining a community who's most prominent members at the time were Dennis Taylor and Deirdre Barlow. They were hardly synonymous with fashion but nevertheless not far removed from the style of glasses around in the early 90's. My first pair wouldn't have looked out of place attached to some string hung around an OAP’s neck. Worse yet my 2nd pair were the forerunners for Harry Potter's, only too narrow for my admittedly massive head so had to be tilted up to a 45 degree angle to avoid leaving ridges in the side of my head that people mistook for white marks where the sun hadn't tanned me.

The trend for cool kids to imitate those brave celebrities who increasingly chose to look like a poindexter never quite took off. Or at least that was the case where I grew up. Anyone who copied the first that I knew about, Chris Evans, was met a reaction similar to Jim Royle’s "Aye, and he's still got ginger bollocks!" I once turned up to a Christmas party in an expensive new designer cord jacket and - together with my rebelliously long hair at the time - got laughed at (rather than admired) for the similarities to Jarvis Cocker.

The term geek chic came annoyingly after my adolesence but I like to think I'd have qualified. Half my life seems to be spent working on spreadsheets. From organising the house bills to making a note of present ideas throughout the year to make Christmas easier, if there's a way to monitor and improve a process you can guarantee I can show you how on Excel!

I did say at the start of all this I'd try to inform as well as entertain. And since I'm struggling to do the latter I thought I'd have a crack at the other!

The ability to measure how my training is progressing has made the task infinitely easier and so I’d encourage anyone going for even the occasional run to download an app for their phone. They vary in terms of reliability and nuances, but should as a minimum keep track of how far you’ve been and for how long. Most will link to their own website to allow you to monitor how your training has progressed and many will have some kind of community you can participate in to answer common questions or make it feel like you’re not in it alone!

I started with a free one called mapmyrun. As I’ve mentioned before I'm not sure what the difference is between this and mapmyfitness since most apps of this nature ask what type (cycling etc) of activity you're doing. The website seemed fairly straightforward and I liked finding several runs around my village (as small as mine) entered by other users, so was obviously popular. But ultimately I was frustrated at not being able to monitor how fast I was running, which looking at the message boards seemed a common request over a long period but hadn’t been incorporated. So I looked at the alternatives.

I'd downloaded the nike+ app a while back when it was temporarily free (usually £1.49). I'd never really looked at it but if like me you assume you get what you pay for I was surprised to see that this received fairly average feedback. That coupled with an initial look at the lay-out had me looking for another. I was, after all, looking for a clear improvement by consensus, all too aware how brittle my motivation was and therefore how likely I’d use a crap app as an excuse not to train!

My first tip of this (and any app) is to look at what the reviewers compare it to in it's criticism. One person mentioned 'Runmeter' which did indeed get universal approval. In particular the ability to run 'against yourself' seemed brilliant. However it was £2.99 and, like runner's nipple and as a Yorkshireman, it went against the grain.

I remembered a couple of friends having posted their runs onto facebook and quickly saw they'd both used the same one, a free app called Runkeeper. Like most of the others it seemed to suffer some criticism for its potential to have problems with its GPS tracking (providing the various data) but on the basis that 1. Most of those who criticised it pointed to how brilliantly it had previously performed and 2. I assume most people are like me and will generally only leave feedback if they'd a negative experience thus skewing the results, I downloaded it and explored further. Immediately I saw a function I'd not seen on the others. I'm following a training plan which mixes up the duration and severity of exercise you do each week, so the ability to enter my own simple workout of 'Run 2 mins, Walk 2 mins, Repeat x 4' and amend it each week was perfect. It also very easily asks what music you'd like to listen to (e.g. shuffle, specific mix) from the same interface which again made it simple.

A few months on and I can’t really fault it. I registered a problem I was having viewing my results online, which a few others also had, and a month later they updated the app to fix it. There’s a ‘Street team’ feature which as well as allowing you to view runs others had done locally means you can keep updated on how others are doing who you know use the app.

A common complaint across most apps is that the GPS is faulty and in my experience this is helped by turning the app on a few minutes (rather than shortly before) you go for a run to allow it to get a good ‘trace’ on you.

You can get a feel for how it works by clicking on the Runkeeper link on the right of this page. Above all my main tip would be to download an app and use it the next time you go out for a walk, even if it’s just a shopping trip. You never know you might end up analysing how far you’ve walked so much that you decide to take your new-found interest one step further.

Don’t worry though, I’m not imploring you to become a glasses-wearing nerd like me, just a runner.

MM

Glasses

Glasses wearers get a rough deal. Every time I walk into the warmth of a pub in winter from the bitter cold outside it's like a recreation of the scene in An American Werewolf In London where everyone turns around in surprise to see two Americans walking into the Yorkshire pub (for local people!), only this time thinking what a prat I look with steamed up lenses. I've tried temporarily taking them off until they've adjusted to the new temperature and formed tiny circular look-outs but that doesn't work either. Blind as a bat I find myself having to choose between either ignoring what could be friendly smiles from regulars that I might well know, or smiling inanely at everyone in the hope I haven't offended anyone.

Being short-sighted I'm amazed at the number of people over the years to whom I've had to explain that it doesn't mean I can see perfectly up to a point before a sudden deterioration. It is in fact fairly similar to (my ability at) running - all's fine for a very short distance before a gradual worsening that ultimately leads to a blur. I don't run a total of 3.5 miles because that's as far as my ability stretches but because that's the point at which my tolerance has finally ebbed away, having started to worsen not far from my front door.

I've still been religiously following the beginners training schedule but last week got to the point at which I'd normally turn round and realised I still felt good (compared to usual, not compared to being sat on the sofa) so carried on a bit further. "I can manage 4 miles!" I thought, then getting to the 2 mile mark at which point I should have turned round only to tell myself "Sod 4 miles, I can make it round this long circuit I hoped to do one day!"

It all seems so predictable now, but suffice to say a mile on from my first moment of inspiration I was in considerably more pain only now even further from home. All of a sudden running a first stint of 2.5 miles had gone from impressive to a dawning realisation that I still had that far left to run home. "I wonder if Emma would be happy to come and pick me up?"

That's the thing about an exercise/sport/recurring hell that is so individual, so completely dependant on you. You need a bit of intuition, of getting to know your body and your limitations. I'm not advocating hippy love and exploring yourself but of getting a better understanding of yourself. Much like my Mum who has somehow over the years come to know which foods "don't agree with her". Nor it seems do some shopkeepers given that one of them called the Police in to resolve a complaint she had last week.....

Having somehow survived the rest of that run I'm then left with the dilemna. Do I go back to the old distances on the schedule or, having shown I can do it once, should I do it again? Don't want to look like a southern jessie after all.

So on the face of it I've had a really good week. Having first added 1.5 miles to my previous best I then reluctantly did the same run again but in a better time before yesterday running a bit further to get me over the 5 mile barrier.

There is a reason for this seemingly sudden improvement. It's not come from any exercising I've done or steroid abuse (now there's a thought for a future blog) but because when I first had those ambitious thoughts my 'id' took over. I won't pretend to know any more about psychology than what I pick up watching Frasier but quite simply your 'id' is the part of your psyche that is most instinctive and impulsive. The bit that takes over when you wave your balls around. That makes you choose a 7 iron because 5 years ago you a hit a 7 iron 200 yards and damn it that means you're macho enough to do it again.

I suspect if you look it up in the dictionary id will be defined as an abbreviation, meaning idiotic. Because that's the psyche of someone who runs further than they really ought but who hasn't yet realised how much more pain is involved when they still have to run 2.5 times further.

MM

P.S. A couple of weeks I got challenged to fit a chosen made-up word into my blog in return for sharing my blog on their facebook / twitter status. I hopefully managed to do it without you all noticing but just to say I thought it was a great idea. If any of you have any requests (ignoring the father-in-law's repeated requests for me to "fuck off") then please let me know. All I ask in return is that you help me increase my loyal fanbase!

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