London Calling To The Faraway Towns

Posted on January 4, 2015. Filed under: running, virgin london marathon, virgin london marathon 2012 |

Yesterday I went for a short, painful, barely dignified run.  I called it a jog.

Tomorrow, I am going for what I expect to be a short, painful, barely dignified run.  I shall be calling it marathon training.

What a difference a day makes.  Today London is calling.  Despite pretending not to, I hear the call.

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And so I find myself with sixteen weeks to go until London Marathon with barely 3 weeks of consistent running under my well stretched belt.  What could go wrong?  Well, the virgin birth of the Little Baby Jesus could go wrong, that’s what.  As I approach the start line at Blackheath I find myself festively stuffed with 72% beer, and 19% cheese. The remainder is chocolate, indolence and barely digested turkey.

Today, in anticipation of starting marathon training tomorrow, I went full Rocky Balboa.  Jogging through thigh deep snow with giant logs on my back. Well, it was frosty and I did chop up a Christmas tree.  A big Christmas tree into very small pieces to fit into a wheelie bin.  Just like the Kenyans do 4 months before a marathon.

As this is not my first marathon I know what is coming.  In fact it’s not even my first London marathon but my first London campaign was marred by projectile vomiting and rampant shits.  I know what is coming and, in my braver moments, I don’t blindly panic.  But I am ready for the hurt.  As long as the legs don’t break.  Again.

And that’s it.  To paraphrase the great dance teacher Lydia Grant of Fame fame, right here is where I start paying – with sweat.


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