The final 4.3 miles.

There weren’t going to be any more miles starting with a ‘5’ now.  This was a survival exercise.  I emerged from the long underpass in the 24^th mile a different runner from the one that entered.  Going in, I was hurting, each step more painful than the last, but maintaining a respectable pace.  Now, I had slowed significantly.

I glanced at my watch.  Under 6:30/mile pace, but only just.  There was just too long to go.  My left calf - the one that I didn’t injure back in December and had been subject to less TLC over the last few months - cramped, before easing off, a pattern it enjoyed repeating.

I knew why all this was happening. It was my own fault.  I had broken just about every major marathon rule in my own way today, just like a rookie.  Don’t try anything in new in the days leading up to the race they say: but I had panicked when someone suggested eating more on the race morning, when after a huge bowl of pasta the night before I didn’t need to.  I knew in mile 1 that all of my food hadn’t digested, and the faint stitch stayed with me for the best part of 10k.  Don’t start too fast: well I didn’t. 18:04 at 5k, then 36:14 at 10k were within my goal, but when I stopped feeling like I had had an all-you-can-eat breakfast on the start line, I inadvertently sped up, led astray by runners around me.  The next two blocks of 5k were both sub-18 minutes, and lead me to a novice halfway split of 76:01.  I knew at that moment I had been an idiot.  I knew that despite immediately backing off and settling down, I was in for a long second half.

But it disintegrated much quicker than I expected, and by 15 miles I was worried.  At 16 I knew something was wrong.  My legs were heavy. So heavy.  I’d not experienced this before.  Was it the taper?  Was it the stupid early pace? It didn’t matter.  I had learnt at Ashby 20 that just because I feel bad one minute, it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s permanent.  But by 18 miles I was desperately searching for a familiar face in the crowd, anxious for a cheap psychological lift.  25-30k was low 18 minutes again, as was 30-35k; miraculous since I was now running effectively on my own, into a headwind and with legs which felt like they had barely a mile left in them.  I wasn’t out of breath and seemed in no danger of bonking, which was my primary concern before the race, but these were mere consolations.  I was genuinely worried that I was going to struggle to finish.

So here I was at 22 miles. There were runners running the other way at around 14 miles into their experience.  I envied them.  I was hurting, and knew that anyone who looked at my face would know my game was up.  I stuffed my last gel down, threw away the packet and dug in.  I knew that Ellie and my sister would be just after mile 23, on the right hand side of the road.  That was what I needed right now.  It was survival: one mile at a time.  I added five minutes fifty to my 22-mile time, anxious to not drop pace too soon, and looked towards the next mile clock.

There it was.  As the road bent around, the sanctity of the mile 23 banner approached.   The clock came into focus and I starred at it unable for the life of me to remember the number I had calculated less than six minutes before.  Sod it.  It didn’t matter, there was still 20 minutes left, more if let it slip.  I locked my eyes on the roadside, and scanned the crowd for the faces of my loved ones, one by one. 

Mile 23 has a slight downhill, which maintained the illusion of keeping pace, although n reality I lost a minute over this next 5k alone.  But in reflection I know that I could easily have handed back chunks more, had I not been so mentally strong and convinced of my physical strength through months of hard training.  The truth is, a marathon hurts just the same whether you do it in 3:07 or in 2:37, it’s just over quicker. 

The wall of noise was phenomenal along the Embankment.  You could pick out all the voices encouraging you.  And at this pace and point of the race, there is no one else around: they are all cheering for you.    But what I wouldn’t have given for my friend and training partner Dan’s companionship right now.  I hadn’t seen him since mile 14 as he sped off, clearly having a blinder.  I thought about all the mental techniques I knew for getting through.  Paula Radcliffe’s ‘count to 100 steps’ came to mind.  So I started: ‘One…two….three…ah sod it that’s too much effort.’

Two miles to go.  My calf cramped again. Then again. Then spasmed.  ‘Shit,’ I thought.  ‘I need my leg to finish.’  I didn’t know what to do.  As I threw my left leg forward I tried to stretch my foot up.  Stretching on the move: it doesn’t work, ever.  My gait was all over the place.  ‘Keep going.’  It was agony.  Why was I doing this?  ‘You can do it,’ came one voice from the crowd. ‘I don’t wanna!’ I still don’t know if I screamed this out loud, or just in my head.  Possibly the former.  This was agony.

As I came into mile 25 I heard a familiar voice from the crowd on the left.  I wasn’t expecting anyone, but my uni friend and fellow athlete Nick ‘Nandos’ Howard was there with his camera.  For some reason it seemed absolutely essential to convey to him just how I was feeling.  I pulled my best grimace and shook my head.  I was embarrassed to be running at 6:27 a mile right now knowing that it was my pace just before halfway that had caused this. 

What seemed like only seconds later, a marshal calmly told me it was only 1k to go.  ‘Really?’ I thought. I know looking back that Nick and his girlfriend Nic had saved me.  They had distracted me long enough to get the final chunk of nasty distance done.  1k to go meant one thing: roughly 4 minutes left.  I looked at my watch and tried to add these numbers together.  I couldn’t work it out accurately enough.  At 800m I knew the maths would be simpler, and very exact.  I calculated it with surprising ease: there was 2:31:49 on the clock.  I needed to run 3:10, and glancing at my pace I knew I wasn’t currently fast enough.  I would fail.

I rallied, motivation renewed.  I still wasn’t out of breath, just running with dead legs.  Completely dead.  No lactate, just leaden.  600m. 400m.  I turned into the final straight passing a runner who had passed me not too long before.  He was barely moving, but I was.  200 metres to go.  According to the official stats, from 35k to the finish I passed 13 runners.  I don’t remember a single other one of them apart from the guy who I piped on the line to get the last available double digit finishing place.  I covered the last 800m in 2:57. 

The challenge of the marathon was over for today.  Dan and I had both achieved what we set out to do months ago, despite almost being derailed by a troublesome Achilles tendon before it had even started.  I ran sub 2:35 and finished in the top 100 at the greatest marathon in the world.  The dream day I was secretly hoping for may not have not materialised, but I am so proud of myself for the way I dug in, not just in the last 4.3 miles but in the last 8.3 when the day could have turned horrifically bad.  In the end Dan only finished 16 seconds ahead of me, despite being 45 seconds clear at one point.  My other training partner and friend Mark ran 2:43, a big PB, after an interrupted build up.

The challenge of the marathon was over for today, but I was about to embark on a new challenge.  I tried to stay upright and keep the contents of my stomach in.  I looked over at Dan being supported and walked by two marshals.  Then I glanced up the monstrous walk to the friends and family collection zone, lined with endless baggage lorries.  Another marathon was about to begin…

Sunday 13^th April 2014 wouldn’t have happened without many people.  Everyone single person who gave me a shout out on that course, many of whom I didn’t see but did hear their voices which made so much difference.  My gorgeous girlfriend Ellie who has put up with my anti-social running, injury worries, came down to support me, and found time to make Dan and I an amazing banner, despite a week of horrific on-call shifts.  My sister for putting me up, my housemates Rebecca, Sarah and Cat who came to London especially to support and made me feel like a celebrity.

I want to thank Bud Baldaro for his training over the last year, which has redefined me as a runner and helped me achieve the things I always set out to do and more.  And my training partners, who have made those horrible runs so much more fun. 

Dan gets his own special mention, for his endless motivation which came in so many forms. 

Finally I thank an old Yorkshire rival, Ben Beattie who I ran much of the second half with, before he pulled away from me and went onto clock an amazing PB for himself.

This has been such an experience, such an amazing experience.  And I’ve received such support and congratulations from so many people.  Thank you so much everyone. 

Stats:

2:34:47.

99^th overall.  (81^st in club and open race (excluding elites).)

5:54/mile average.

16 minute PB.

Mile 25, by Nick 'Nandos' Howard.

Sister Jo and Ellie, holding up her amazing banner.

Myself and beautiful Ellie, after I finally made it to the
friends and family 'claim your corpse area'.

Mark Ince, Ed Barlow, myself and Dan Robinson.
PBs all around.

News was clearly a little slow on
Monday morning.

Official result, excluding elites.

Too Horse to Race

Athletics fans will be devastated today to lean of the breaking news which has emerged from BRAT Club official sources this morning.  

Like Gebrselassie before the 2000 Sydney Olympics, athletes Tim 'Carthorse' Carter and Dan 'Slow' Robinson who successfully finished Saturday's Birmingham XC League, are facing a battle against time to be fit for tomorrow Leeds Abbey Dash (LAD) event. 

The official announcement, which was believed to have been leaked to the Brat Club official website at around 03:00 GMT before bring quickly removed, stated: "we are worried to announce minor niggles to two of our non-star athletes ahead of Sunday's 10K event."

Although unconfirmed, it is believed that Carter, who recently celebrated his 21+8th birthday using body paint multiple times, has eaten far too much cake over the last 10 days, and is no longer considered race weight. Robinson is believed to have developed a sympathy injury. 

The club are hopeful that both athletes, who are undergoing late fitness tests, will make the start line: Robinson is today participating in his 100th park run, where he will be racing against a friend, albeit with the handicap of 20 press ups per kilometre. The winner will receive a rest day. Carter meanwhile is believed to be wallowing in his pit, missing Ellie.

Those Moments that Made my Year

For the Carthorse and friends, 2013 has been quite a year of running. This year has seen many of us in my training group significantly improve. Personally, my season was probably summed up by three outstanding races in July (Mile), August (5000m) and September (HM), each better than the last. But that hasn't been complete story of this year which has just been made up of moments of hilarity, unbelievable happenings and fun. Now seems like the opportune time to recap some of my favourite moments. In chronological order of course. 

10^th April, Villamoura, Portugal:

Villamoura was a fantastic two week 'holiday' with friends in the sun at a time when the UK was still getting snow. It was great training aboard, although some of the routes got a little repetitive.  This Wednesday, I remember Nick 'Nandos' Howard showing me the beach cliff trail route for the first time. The weather was amazing, there were fantastic views of the ocean, and the steep trails were a real breathe of fresh air.  I ran that same route later that day too.

18^th May, Yate:

Summer had arrived in force and it was the first of four Track & Field League fixtures. We were pushing for promotion this season, but unfortunately we had a depleted team, meaning we were all doubling, or tripling up in the events. By the time it got to the 4x400 relay, the last event, we had only a disparate crew of exhausted distance runners left able to run.

I volunteered to go first leg as I had prior experience of holding a baton. The start line was hilarious; amongst five serious teams in blocks, I took a standing-start position and had only managed a single step by the time my competitors had sprung away and managed three….I was 50 metres behind by 100m. Dan, with a 1500m and a 5000m in his legs, finished the third leg just ahead of the leaders completing the event. This ensured we didn’t get lapped, meaning Ed, the anchor, was so jubilant that he performed a double Mobot as he eventually crossed the line.

25^th May, Leicestershire & Warwickshire joint County Champs finish line, Leicester. 

Having narrowly missed it in Yate the week before, it was widely known that I was attempting to run my maiden sub-16 minute 5000m. After one of the most physically painful races I can remember, I crossed the line, collapsing almost immediately to all fours, unable to move or do anything but hope the lactate would clear.

'What did you do?' would have been a polite way for a recovered-Ed to have enquired as to my result. But probably not convinced I would’ve been able to respond, he instead simply grabbed my watch arm from where it lay limp on the floor and pulled to his eye level. I subsequently found out I’d come second in the county, but recalling Ed's violation of my watch/arm is what I smile about when I remember that day. 

June 23^rd, My bed. 

In June, Dan was the athlete in form. The previous day had been the Midland 5000m champs which has been a disaster. The conditions were miserable, and even though Dan and Ed had PB-ed, no one was over the moon about it. 

In uncustomary fashion we hit the town to drown our sorrows, and after stumbling in at 4am, I managed to drag myself around an ‘easy’ 90 mins with Ed, in a massive struggle of hangover and sore legs. 

Dan, in contrast it turned out, had used his hangover to positive effect. I got a phone call as I lay in bed post-run trying to recover. He had somehow gone out and done a 9 mile race, finishing third in an unbelievably quick time. I do not know how, only that I could not have done that. 

July 20^th, Iffley Road track, 15 metres from the line.

The opportunity to run at the famous Roger Bannister track in Oxford was too much to pass on, even though I didn't consider myself to be in good shape to race a Mile. Dan and Mark were in the heat before mine and both ran 4:40. Not a chance I thought.

Somehow I found myself still in it coming down the final 100m, and with my friends ecstatic with jubilation on the sidelines, my legs beginning to burn, bend and wobble, I was starting intently at the finish clock which was slowly ticking up, and not getting any closer.

The winner crossed the line two seconds ahead of me, stopping the clock, but fifteen metres away I was so out of it I didn’t really absorb this. I just remember thinking I has managed to stop time, and that I'd now exist forever in a sea of painful purgatory at 4:32.

This mile was probably my breakthrough race this season, and my 1500m split probably a good 6 or 7 seconds faster than a race over the same distance just four days earlier. 

24^th August, Coventry University track finish line:

Coventry BMC 5000m was the ultimate of races. Paced by super-metronomic Ed Banks, it featured four of my other friends and training partners. I crossed the line just three seconds behind Dan, and I'll never forget the scenes that subsequently unfolded....

As I crossed the line, Dan had had just enough time to release the enormity of what he'd done, and turn around, with a shocked look on his face. I simply ran straight into an embrace, and turned around to see my friend Sarah cross the line inside her PB too. Lying around on the floor and self-congratulations initially got in the way of knowing what anyone else had done, but I then spotted Mark 10 metres away. He was frozen still, a massive smile on his face, arms stretched out wide and his body language said 'just ask me' all over it. He’d taken over 20 seconds off a 20 year old PB, breaking the 16-minute barrier which he’d given up on long ago. What a hero. It's rare that everyone you go to a race with has a screamer. On that day myself, Dan, Mark, Sarah and Chris all smashed it. And Ed's contribution was a massive part of that. Those scenes may never be repeated again.

A Pentalogy of Proven Folktales II

A year ago I wrote a blog about the five biggest things that I'd learnt or felt hadmade a difference to my running in 2012. 2013 has been something of a breakthrough year for me, and bares many similarities to the winter of 2009/10, where I experienced similar improvements. 

Bud Baldaro:

To suggest that I have changed coaches would be an overstatement: I don't consider myself to have a coach. But on Tuesday nights at the university track, our BRAT group now joins Mister Johnny Cullen, and we put the fate of our sessions in the hands of a world-renowned coach and extremely great motivator, Bud Baldaro. 

Running tough sessions as a group has made these both fun and manageable. The sessions involve mixed paces, terrain and rep lengths, and they would be very difficult solo. A large training group at my pace is something I've not had since early 2010 when I was still at university. 

Racing better than I train:

This has been my biggest shift. I'm not running any faster in training now than I have been in the last three years. In truth probably a little slower for the most part. But we run as a group, and practice running relaxed and comfortable at the paces, rather than slogging them out. Times don't matter to us now in training - we can judge training performances against each other not the clock. The sessions are not the race. 

Relaxed training approach:

I've probably done less miles to this point of the year than in 2012. My training has been far more unstructured, I don't even plan it anymore, just identify each week what I need to be doing outside of Bud's sessions. I'm highly flexible.  I've also not been too bothered when I've had a bad race (the good ones have helped keep this in perspective), and not let it cast doubts about my ability as a runner. 

Recovery means recovery:

I listen to my body now, far more than even before. If I'm tired I do less. I run slower on easy runs, like I did back in late 2009. Recovery runs are for recovery, not to get a good pace average, and if I stay relaxed with good cadence / form, then they're beneficial in multiple ways.

I rest before important races, sometimes they go well, occasionally not. It means my training looks a bit inconstant....I have massive mileage weeks followed by low mileage weeks. But it's worked. 

Long tempos:

I've improved my half marathon time from 75:49 (PB) in October '12 to 71:53 in September '13. That's a big increase. I think that long tempo runs have been key to this. I've been building up to 8 miles (45 ish mins) at almost HM pace. Sometimes I start slow and increase it, sometime I break it down, (say 4x2miles off a minute jog). But I get to the point the week before the race where I can do 8 miles continuously and reasonably comfortably at a similar pace.  If you know you can do the pace for that long, than you can hang on in the race for another 5 miles for sure. 

Glute activation:

I visited a physio last December who told me I still had a problem with my hip flexors. Too tight, he said. I obsessively stretched them for three months and saw a sports masseur, but to no avail. Until I realised that this could actually be caused by compensation for weak glutes. I found an article that massively supported this, and since April have instead been obsessively doing glute activation exercises every time before I run. I think it's worked. 

Form:

Finally, I've never had the best form, but improved glute function (above) has helped, as has introducing more strides and leg cycle drills. I now do 5-6x strides at least once a week on none session days, often after a long run, and the day before a race. Just on the road outside my house, but they've really helped my body develop a better range of motion and run far more relaxed at my faster paces. 

Ok, so that's seven (a heptathlon if you will), but all of these things I've been doing regularly since February / March. Clearly I can't say exactly which have worked to a greater extent than others, but if the ideas here help anyone reading this as much as they've helped me, then this has been useful. 

The Circle of Life

World media has been surprisingly slow on the uptake of Coventry BMC 5000m which occurred two saturdays ago, at a back-to-front - albeit it blue - track hidden away at Coventry University which drew monster crowds of former Sheffield University Athletes.

However the race, in which the highest placed finisher worth mentioning finished in a position which would rank him a toasty 340 in the National Rankings for the year, has generated a disproportional amount of column inches, with two blogs and a website article amassing almost double figures of interest between them.

Dan Robinson, who was said highest finisher, was in pole position coming in to the final kilometre, having been accidentally tucked into Ed Bank’s super tight pink racing shorts and carried round the first 10 laps.  “It was just about staying with Ed for the first four kilometres and trying to remember how many laps the race was.  I knew that Carter was on my shoulder the entire time because I could hear him panting like a Horse.”

Carter, who we have been able to confirm was also in the race, offered “I wasn’t really enjoying myself.  I knew we were going for curry afterwards, and I was getting quite hungry deciding if I could manage a whole naan myself.  I spent the first three laps deciding the best way to drop out, and whether I would need to feign tripping over in order to make it look legit.”

After reaching four kilometres in a highly symmetrical 12:40, the 3 minute and 3 second race to the line was won by Robinson in 2:59, to which Carter was incensed.  “Robinson pulled away in the final two and a half laps.  I’d already planned that we would cross the line together holding hands, but when he did that all I had left was to beat the Irish International runner.  Sarah Mac afterwards stated that her favourite laps had been “2, 5, 6, 8 and 11,” and that she was “no longer talking to Tim” because of his 450m sprint for the line.  “Where I come from [of which no one is sure], friends don’t beat friends.”

Veteran38 Mark Ince overcame a severe bout of ageing which has been afflicting him for the past 10 years, and was in the race the entire way, with only a wrong turn on the 10th lap letting him down.  He came in as the 5th Significant Person, in 3:11, just behind Chris (also 3:11).  Mark was giddy after breaking a PB that has stood for 20 years, back from his student days where he claims to have run 1:39 and 3:25 for the middle distance events.  He was reportedly “very giddy” the whole way back as he snacked on Haribo Sourmix.

BBC token pundit Denise Lewis has been quick to offer some expert insight into what might have caused this spectacle of super-human feats on this late summer evening: “The thing about the 5000m is, that it is 5000m long.”  The BBC are hopeful of not renewing her contract.

The Perfect 5000

They say that the county champs are in decline. As true as that maybe, and as sad as it is for athletics, it doesn't bother me in the slightest as with decent competition I honestly wouldn't have been standing on the second tier of the rickety podium at the Warwickshire's yesterday, second only to the ever-reliable Ed Banks in the 5000m, who now holds a head-to-head record against me of about 200-0. Mo Farah in contrast has never beaten me, which puts into perspective how much better than Mo Ed 'The Beard' Banks is. 

A pre-planned racing strategy with second-favourite training partner Dan Robinson was going to be the secret to us both breaking 16 minutes, although unfortunately the ultra-marathoner fell a little shy on the day.

As I stretched for the finish of the most painful race I'd ever done, the capacity crowd willed me forward. I flung myself at the line having given everything, and sunk to the ground gasping for air and willing the screaming in my legs to dissipate. 

The pandemonium on the track silenced as the words came over the loudspeakers: 'The time is Fifteen minutes....' The rest of the announcement was drowned out by the joyous cries of several people who had just witnessed history in the making. At last the barrier was broken.*

Breaking 16 was everything I dreamed. 'Tell me about your race?' said an important looking gentleman to me as I collected my medal, who I incorrectly assumed was from world media. I quickly tailed off my overly detailed description as I realised he was merely the guy who had timetabled the events. All he actually wanted to know was if an 11:30 start suited and would be fine next year as well? 'Great!' I said, after quickly mulling over if in my brief moment of power there was a more preferable time of day for me to be comprehensively beaten in 365 days time. '11:30 is great.'

* 'The Perfect Mile' by Neal Bascomb is available from all good bookstores. 

2013 looms

It has been a positive Christmas in the Carthorse camp.  News of a new sponsorship deal to rival Sarah Mac’s Inavo Eight contract came in just day’s before the holiday, in the form a text message from Mother, who offered cooked meals all Christmas in exchange for keeping my bedroom tidy and my bed made. 

Seemingly spitefully however, my fell shoes by the afore mentioned manufacturer had other ideas, slicing a layer of skin clean off the back of my heel on day two of the holiday.  Ten days have now passed and this latest injury now resembles a gouge out of my foot, making requests by Malcolm to make the 10 minute limp to the postbox cause for anquish.

Meanwhile I am fully prepared for this weekend’s Warwickshire County Champs (XC), despite my girly injury scare, and fresh from record 341 man-minutes of labour to remove the spikes from the footwear from last time out. 

In other news, tales of my double-December PBs has clearly spread, with fan tribute video[s] now starting to emerge on the internet.  Teenage running sensation Emilia Gorecka used the term “fantastic” on her website while Steven Bayton replacement training partner Dan Robinson has not been seen since it went viral.

A tail of two blogs

It’s amazing how the same piece of news can be both the best thing you could ask for and the worst.  For me that news came just over three weeks ago, when frustrated with my physio, I went for a second opinion.  This gentleman invited me onto his torture table and attempted to bend me every which way he could think of. 

The three words he then uttered redefined my running, and have been the cause of severe optimism, and unimaginable frustration, as shown in the two blogs that I wrote on two consecutive days.

-----------------------------

Day 18: Going to the physio was the best thing I ever did. 

Anterior pelvic rotation weren't new words to me.  Three years ago I was diagnosed as having a massive anterior rotation, caused by ridiculously tight hip flexors, which restricted my pelvis position, and thus how high I could lift my knees, which stunted my stride. 

This problem hasn't gotten worse, but I had wrongly assumed that I had maximised my range of motion.  Not true.  This physio demonstrated that with my pelvis in neutral, I literally cannot move my upper leg backwards beyond vertical.  I therefore have to choose between enabling knee lift which restricts my stride length, or enabling my glutes (the largest muscle in the body) to work correctly without being able to lift my knees. 

Just 15 minutes of stretching three times a day should be enough to change this, and given that the first time I made this adjustment, the biomechanical change allowed me to train effectively to reduce my 10k time from 37:14 (Sept. 2009) to 34:41 (Dec. 2009), the optimism of even a slight improvement alone is enough motivation to stick at this.  It’s not easy, but it’s exciting.

-----------------------------

Day 19: Going to the physio was the worst thing I ever did. 

Anterior pelvic rotation is like a curse.  I thought I had resolved this.  I went through all of the physio three years ago.  The problem is I’m now really aware of how awkwardly I run.  I can feel when my whole pelvis tilts forwards now.  It annoys the hell out of me.  An evening run through the countryside shouldn’t end in me screaming and kicking a fence in pure frustration.  Writing 18 seconds off my PB last week should feel satisfying, not worthless because I know that this time is easily beatable if I can overcome this problem. 

I hate stretching three times a day….it uses all of my free time.  Just when I want to relax, its time to contort myself again.  Now I struggle for motivation to run because I know that it’s pointless without rectifying biomechanical factors first.  I wish I’d never known and could just carry on in ignorance.  I was happy being a very average runner.  Argh.

-----------------------------

It’s amazing how the same situation can be perceived in two such different ways.  I’m just hoping that the positives eventually overcome the negative.

Goals as achievable targets: Act II

10,000m PB : 33:36 (May 2012)

I'm a big fan of setting medium term goals. Challenging but achievable targets that are far enough away that they allow for a few hiccups on the way, but near enough that you stay motivated.   A discussion with a housemate this week made me realise that these are what motivate me most, and that my current goals, with the exception of making it through an entire chocolate moose last night, are a bit loose. 

London Marathon 2010, BUCS 5k 2012. Those are just a couple of running goals that I have set myself previously. And in doing those I have achieved more in a short time than when I 'float' with an aim of 'to be able to run faster'. 

So in true November style, it seems fitting that I now find a new goal. One that I've had in mind for a while, but that I've decided to put a time scale on.  One that I've been motivated towards by the recent valiant efforts of my training partner.  My goal is to run 32:30 for 10k by September 2013. An improvement of 3.3%, 6.6 seconds per km, or to run 10k at my current 5k pace.  This should be highly dooable.  Why ever not?

This is a goal that if I achieve, I will feel like I've realised my potential as a runner. An achievement that will validate myself as a semi-decent runner and a coach in my own eyes. 

That is what I'm going to work towards these next 10 months.  This is what I'm going to achieve.

UKA stirrup more trouble

The Carter family are said to be disappointed after finally getting around to checking the list of new lottery funded athletes last night, only to discover second-born Timothy has not been given lottery support for his jogging.

Timothy, who is currently in the bath, has declined the opportunity to comment, but in an interview with his parents (who play the National Lottery with limited success every week), it became apparent that they have very limited knowledge of athletics.  “I read that there was a level of funding that applied to contenders for Rio 2016, and I’ve been telling my friends at swimming that I know what Rio is,” said his mother while separating Timothy’s whites from colours.  “For [UKA] to say that Timothy has no chance of making it is just like school P.E all over again when he was only given an effort grade of ‘C’.”

Timothy, who this week has been working on wearing longer shorts in training, is rumoured to have filled out an entry form and stamped-addressed-envelope for a 10k later this year, after deliberating between this and the fun run option which incentivised a free Santa hat.  It has also been suggested that he may be tempted to do another Park Run if he feels like it at some point, although the idea that he still knows where his bar code is quite a far-fetched.

The only silver lining in all this is that Mark Lewis Francis has been dropped from funding.  The athlete is rumoured to have been sent to the Inflator Room at Theme Hospital.