Chapter 15: Post Pisa, The Road To Paris with a Spitfire Thrown in For Good Measure

It’s always tough to re-motivate yourself after a marathon. You are sore, elated and don't see the point in pushing yourself for a while. Let the good time roll I thought and pretty much did nothing all week until a full 7 days post race.

Once you have lost the momentum of running so often it takes a few days to get back into the swing of things.

I took it easy, doing off-road runs and using softer surfaces so as not to cause me problems, mixing up on road and off-road. I have read that this is a good tactic and reduces the impact on your joints.
But there was little time to truly kick back as Paris was at the start of April and now I had sub 3:15 and a “good for age” (automatic entry into any marathon of my choosing) in my sights.

However 2014 ushered in a new year and before I knew it I was back in the swing of things, running 3 x 10k every week around the aquadrome in Rickmansworth, hoping that the softer ground would help my poor joints.

I also tried some serious x country running too, through mud and waterlogged ground, losing my shoe in the process. Works different muscle groups so was good but very very messy.
There was a point to this training..yes! The Watford half marathon was looming at the start of February.

My time in 2013 had been 1:34 and I had found it tough so was mentally prepared for a horrible race.
It did not disappoint.

The heavens had opened in the days and weeks prior to the race. Britain was gripped in widespread flooding and there was a risk that the race might have to be abandoned.

We started though on a chilly Sunday morning and the very respectable time of 10:00.
I was in two minds about whether to go for it or not..and guess what? Boy did I go for it delivering a PB in the process by about 20 seconds.

Should Have Worn Swimming Trunks

I was extatic – a positive omen for the audacious task of smashing 3:15 at the Paris marathon in April.

There was (as is always the case – perhaps its an age thing) a problem.. In my quest to enjoy myself (see chapter 17) I had run through a flooded depression towards the end of the half. In my amped up state I decided to kick furiously through the ankle-deep water to showboat for the cameras.
A couple of days later I realise that kicking heavy muddy water hurt my knees and this came home to roost when I ran a 16 miler the following week and was incapacitated for a couple of days, having to resort to smaller distances and less intensity.

Saw the physio who advised me to cut down. My sports masseur was more brutal, advising me through my wife to stop running for a couple of weeks and ditch the Reading Half Marathon.
So stubbornness got in the way (doesn’t it always) and I steadfastly refused to stop running but gave into common sense and decided to not run the Reading Half.

Part of the problem is an inability under race conditions to hold myself back and I know that with a tender knee that could mean and end to my dream of shattering a sub 3:15 at Paris in April.

Instead I signed up to the Surrey Spitfire, a 20 mile 2-lap course a couple of weeks later. This was a much better solution and would allow me another 2 weeks to have fully recovered.

Then as planned I was off to Barcelona for Mobile World Congress. Usually not the best place for keeping fit as the order of the day (and night) was to drink and eat and stay up late.

I arrived on the Sunday lunchtime having left home at 5am (yuk!).. All I could think of apart from the forthcoming business meetings and continuous presence of Senior Management meaning you had to be on your effervescent best behaviour was running.

My knee was hurting and I was very worried that unless I stepped back into my intensive training regime it would all be over before it started.

I touched down at the hotel and within 20 minutes was out pounding the streets and soaking up the 15-16 degree Barcelona sunshine.

Threatening skies but 17 degree "HEAT". Barcelona: I was back!

I had never run there before so ended up running across a visually impressive bridge around the shipbuilding area before blasting back to the hotel.

I had covered 7 miles. I was on the turnaround and building up to my peak week of 50+ miles!
victory at Paris was  still in sight.

Barcelona business trip moved to Dusseldorf Business trip and the miles per week and average distance continued to climb, elongating my days.

And today I sit here having just posted my ramblings for the first time and bringing the story to present day.

It is 5:21pm on Saturday, 15th March 2014. Tomorrow I will be running 20 miles around The Top Gear test track and Godalming/Dunsfold... kind of my old stomping ground for a brief period in the mid-nineties.

Tomorrow it is about finishing and feeling strong at the end, not beasting myself.

Will I be able to contain myself?