Sign Up M-47
So, I’ve signed up for the Brighton Marathon on April 19th! That's 47 days away hence M-47. Tick tick tick tock!
Yes, I checked the small print and cynics are allowed to do marathons, and yes, I was surprised by that as well! I’m already finding the experience difficult as it involves being nice to pretty much everyone! My only recourse is to bring balance to the universe by venting my thoughts, feelings and beliefs in this blog.
Many of you will think, as I often do, ‘Here goes another weekend warrior banging on about doing a marathon.’ well perhaps not this time. Even reading back ‘I’ve signed up for the Brighton Marathon!’ fills me with anxiety. That's what I want to bring to this blog, my emotions. And just when it gets all heavy and gooey I'll deflect them away with humour.
Some say that anxiety and excitement are the same thing dependent on context. These people sign up to courses on motivational speaking in the forlorn hope that if they become skilful enough, someone will actually want to listen to them. They’ll grind you down with tips on using PowerPoint. The only tip I want is the powered point of a cattle prod shoved in their motivational regions every time they mention PowerPoint! .... that was anger.
There is an excitement for the naivety of adventure. Noel Burch phrased it as 'Unconsciously Incompetent’ i.e. ‘Stage One of his four stages of learning, which I apply to everything. In other words I’ve no idea how difficult this will be.
I could apply logic such as: I like jogging; I like Brighton; I like marathons because they’re peanutty; (That one will have the over fifties snickering!)
I have a theory that very few people who run marathons actually like the experience. I think they like the after-marathon experience way more! How many times can you steer a conversation to “Oh you ran a marathon? Cool! And Wow, you’ve still got the medal in your bag? Since 2015!”
OK, I’ve got form here. Some of you may remember my Edinburgh Fringe show blog. I hear you gasp “You had a show at the Edinburgh Fringe?” ‘Yes five shows actually’. Oooops I’ve done it again. Mr ego’s on the rampage, again! ..... That was pride.
Someone asked if it was hard to sign up for the marathon. No, it was easy. The Nightingale Cancer Support Centre in Enfield, where I volunteer as a counsellor, sent out a newsletter saying they had a couple of places.
I left it a week or two hoping that some super fit people would snap up the places but they didn't which in hindsight is a warning sign to be filed in folder marked 'I told you so'. ....So I said I’ll give it a go, and they said Ok. All I have to do is pay the entrance fee and raise a minimum of £500 (THAT’S A HINT TO VISIT MY JUST GIVING PAGE). Oh, and one other thing, I have to RUN A MARATHON!
As you can probably tell I’ve never run a marathon before. In fact I don’t consider myself a proper runner. I practice the ancient art of jogging (as invented by Forest Gump). For many of my younger friends, explaining jogging is like a martial artist saying they practice Kung Fu. The usual response is “Do they still do that?” Yes we still jog.
Jogging, for the uninitiated, is not running. It’s less efforty (yes that’s a real word, because I just typed it!).
You can spot a jogger in many ways:
Joggers don’t wear the latest running gear. The only time we’ll have a super-nanotech-beathable-five-G-ready-approved-by-NASA extreme sports running top is when someone fell off a mountain doing some event with ‘Ultra’ in the title and the top ended up in a charity shop.
Joggers
don’t carry water bottles, especially those ones with the big handles!
I’ll admit after a that after a long jog I’m fairly thirsty, but the
idea that a mere 5km will dehydrate them into a raisin is frankly
annoying. If they want to conserve moisture they should talk less! I do
use that annoyance well, seeking out bottle carrying fun-runners at the
bottom of the hill at Ally Pally. The sheer anger they inspire is like a
fuel, carrying me up the hill like an emotional escalator. By the way that’s my only strategy for the marathon, turn up early and get really annoyed!
Joggers don’t talk the talk. It’s like Fight Club. Sorry I can’t explain that comment for obvious reasons. We do notice the seasons, views, flowers etc. if etc. means: dog poo, puddles and clumps of mummies blocking the path with their SUV sized baby buggies. (This was written in Muswell Hill)
Joggers are solitary. The idea of running in a pack is alien. Why? Because we know where we’re going! I see the ‘5K’ fun runners herding themselves around a well marked course with marshals at every turn shouting encouragement “Go for it!, You’re nearly there!” like it’s a training camp for life-coaches. Of course the runners need the marshals because they’re all constantly trying to selfie themselves for ‘mega likes on Insta’.
The motivation for a jogger is different. We get out there, experience the outside world and come back again. Once we’ve got half way the choice is simple, either jog or walk back. Walking back is slow, humiliating and painful which is usually all the motivation we need to wheeze our way home.
Joggers are slow. Sometimes I see members of an athletics club train at Ally pally. They are not slow. They have motion blur and wizz lines when they run, I have moss growing on me. Many ask marathoners, another new word but not as good as Snickeristas, (just in case the fifty somethings didn’t get it the first time around) how long they’ll expect to take? I usually answer: If I start at 9.45am I’ll finish by Tuesday! ......evening.
Joggers don’t cross-train, we’re already angry enough! (oh come on it’s a good pun!)
As you can tell, my motivation’s suspect and my skills are dubious but there are a bunch of amazing people at The Nightingale and they would benefit from your support so please sponsor me and I’ll try to be nice :-)
https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/alastairsadler
By the way: No refunds!
and finally a little nostalgia for my fellow fifty somethings and beyond.
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