Week 12 - Oh, what a beautiful morning.

A step-back week this week, with things a little easier. 5 quick miles round town on the Monday was followed by a storming 8 mile session at first light on Wednesday.


Around the Carse of Lecropt on farm roads in the perfect morning quiet, with a cloudless sky above and yellowhammer, pheasant, blue tit, great tit, dunnock, curlew, skylark all twittering their lungs out. Throw in rabbits and squirrels bounding away as you pass and you start to feel like Bambi gamboling through the forest. Sort of. It was truly glorious and reignited my enthusiasm for the whole affair.

This week's long run was a loop round the town followed by the North Third route. I was joined by part of it by an erstwhile running compadre who first showed me this route some years ago. She is in half-marathon training, so it was good to get a long run in. We were not attacked, as some have been on this route, by nesting buzzards. They don't put that in the running books.

Myeloma UK, (http://www.myelomaonline.org.uk/) the primary beneficiaries of all this effort, have been great throughout the training providing support, encouragement, advice and, this week, a skyrie orange running vest. You'll not miss me come race day.

Week 11 - Only women bleed?

This was a tough week, starting with a few strides in the park on the Monday to get the legs moving again after the weekend. So far so good, even Tuesday's rather pleasant jaunt from Forthbank (the theatre of dreams) up through Milhall and Shirra's Brae and back through town left me feeling fine.

Wednesday saw another early start in order to keep up the miles, 8 of them along Swanswater in very pleasant sunshine. Pleasant that is until about 6 miles, when I was overcome by violent stomach cramps of near-Paula proportions, I think you know what I mean. I was too far past the Pirnhall Inn to go back and not close enough to home. Caught between two stools, you might say, if you were speaking scatologically. Result was cries of agony ringing around the Cambusbarron quarry and carefully timed spells of walking in order to prevent a nasty accident. Much too close for comfort. Nice sunrise, though.

The club session salvaged some pride, being 8 track laps of sprinting the straights and jogging the bends, which was fine. I foolishly played football the next day and felt the presence of my hamstrings (and not in a reassuring way) so was glad of a rest before the big one on Sunday.

18 miles done on the Sunday, in snow and sleet and rain and sun ... from home along the back road to Dunblane and back again. I experimented with eating and drinking, taking an energy bar at around the half-way point and I was aware of a wee buzz for the following few miles. What I wasn't aware of at the time was the state of my nipples. Not until I stopped and the blood dried and stuck my t-shirt to my now-shredded chest did I become aware of what I had done to myself. A solution will need to be found by next week.

Week 10 - Fat Man Running.

It is an affliction. A disease. An obsession, even at my level. 6 miles on the Monday and a realisation that Wednesday was going to be problematic lead to me getting up at 6am to run 9 miles before work. Felt fantastic at around 11, but 3pm was a different story. My long suffering wife is beginning to work about all the training, not least because it wakes her up at that time too. Can she not see the joy in looking at the clock and rolling over knowing you've got another hour's kip to come.

Same again to get 5 miles in on Friday morning, to keep the mileometer ticking over. All of this was building to the longest run to date - 17 miles on the Sunday. Caught the train to Falkirk (having negotiated to purchase a ticket the night before) and ran home via Stenny, Larbert and Plean. An extra loop round town and Kersebonny made up the necessary miles, or so I thought. Alas, I forgot to do the Cambusbarron loop and what I thought was 17 was actually 15 and a half. Amateur. Am a twit, more like.

Running through town means that you inevitably catch yourself reflected in shop windows. Very depressing. Hundreds of miles on the clock, body finely tuned but catch yourself in the plate-glass window of the local New Look and you are nothing but a fat man running.

Week 9 - Allo-ha.

Back on track this week, leading up to Easter. Straight-forward enough to get 5 miles in on Monday and a quick 3 miles with No.1 son was playing football on the Tuesday. That run past the new Forthside development will be so much nicer when some of the new path network is completed.

Work interfered with Wednesday's longer run, but being off work Friday allowed me to squeeze in almost nine miles on that morning. Not bad, considering I'd done a longer-than-average run at the club session the night before. The weekly average is now consistently over 30 miles and the knees are holding out. There is something to this training and preparation lark.

The week ended with the Alloa Half Marathon, completed in a best-ever 1 hr and 40 minutes, plus some seconds. Can't complain about that and, with hindsight, I quite enjoyed the chase against the clock along the Hillfoots (why is that not Hillfeet?) from Tillycoultry to Menstrie where I realised I was going to have to maintain 7:40 miles on tiring legs for the remainder of the race. Nice t-shirt too.

Week 8 - Reality check.

This week real life, and work, get in the way. A work excursion to Milton Keynes meant two runless days (why didn't I take my kit?) and the resulting catch-up did for the Wednesday run.


I punished myself at the club session with a full 7 reps of the Memorial Park in Bridge of Allan on the Thursday and set myself for the 15 mile stretch that the weekend was supposed to cover.


Sunday was the Sport Relief mile, and I completed this (3 miles in all, on Glasgow Green) with my son and daughter. Good fun, but not the scheduled slog I was supposed to be doing. Knocking out 10 miles that evening didn't really do the necessary, but it did keep the mileometer ticking over, albeit 10 miles short of the weekly mileage required. I'm a slave to the programme.


The other interesting thing this week (is any of this interesting?) is the offer of £3 a mile sponsorship - a princely £78 if I finish the marathon - from a colleague, provided I help him get a PB in the Dumyat Hill race. I'm no coach, I can demotivate myself very easily, but this is a tempting offer. I didn't intend running this race, it is too close to marathon day, but I'm quite happy to shout abuse at him from half-way up the hill.

Week 7 - Steady as she goes.

A good steady week, with nice runs round the town on Tuesday and Wednesday and a good club session on the Thursday, fartleking around Riverside.


Fartlek is where you run at pace for sections of your run, between agreed points. It can be a nice way of speeding up the run and making the whole thing a bit more enjoyable, despite the comedy name. It is a Swedish word meaning "speed play". But you knew that, you can use wikipedia just as easy as I can.


The aforementioned session was interrupted by a drunken ned who took it upon himself to try and create a bit of bother. Too fast for him, I'm afraid, but it must have been quite a spectacle, librarian being chased over the Old Brig in Stirling by Buckfast-boy.


The week ended with another 13 and a half miles over North Third. Nice as this run is, it is time to look for a new route as the longer runs now enter unknown territory - 15 miles and more.....

Week 6 - Run, Fat Boy, Run.

Like some creeping addiction it gets hold of you, the need to run. Despite creaking knees and demands to spend time more productively in other ways, the week starts with 5 straight days of running. Over 8 miles on Monday around Riverside and the castle in Stirling, a quick 3 mile loop around the new Forthside development (see how the fantastic new bridge is coming along) and the same Wednesday 6 and a half miles as last week.

Missed the club session and settled for a few miles on the treadmill, just to remind myself how very dull that sort of running is and that I don't like doing it.

The week ended on a high with participation in the Lasswade (http://www.lasswade-ac.org.uk/) 10 mile road race on Sunday morning. I have factored in a couple of races as part of the training (also doing Alloa Half Marathon in a couple of weeks) to keep the speed work going and to add some spice to the longer runs. The course is pretty hilly, with a nasty climb at 3 miles and a long slog at mile 5-6, but enjoyable nonetheless and followed by a very nice buffet including cream scones, lovely. Happy enough with a finish time of 1 hour and 15 mins.