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Life in the slow lane: exploring mid life

The other day, someone said to me: “I couldn’t do what you’re doing. I need to be busy. I need to be doing things.” Fair enough. Each to their own. But busyness feels like a trap that I want to use this year to wriggle free from. I’m going to give life in the slow lane a whirl.  There’s a concept in running called periodisation. You train hard for a block of weeks, then ease back, allowing your body to recover and adapt. The fitness gains don’t come just from the training itself, but from giving your body time to absorb the work. Nature understands this. Fields lie fallow. Heathland is burned to create the conditions for new growth. Seasons turn. Things die back, endings happen, and space opens up for something new. So that’s the idea for my year out: to make some space, see the world from different vantage points and replenish my stores of energy and enthusiasm.  I’m feeling excited. Here’s a sketch for the year ahead  Chapter one: The running monk First up, a mo...
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running in ice blocks

you have to back to 1901 to find a december that was as cold as the one we ran in Holland today! duncan and i raunthrough snow for almost 5 hours and slipped and slidded our way to the Hook of Holland. It was a mamouth experience! it started in such great pain as our legs started working after the 30miles of yesterday. Profanities spilled from my mouth as I tried to come to terms with running on a dodgy knee. i whinced with pain every time it bent - which isn't great when you have 20 miles to go. Duncan was dealing with his own private hell and we got through singing various hits from Simon and Garfunkel. the snow started to fall and the wind blew. Icicles formed on our hats and scarves. but it was going to take more than a blizzard to stop us! I got passed by a cyclist who wanted to know where i was running. I told him. 10mins later he returned pushing 35euros in my pocket. Amazing! Duncan had to go faster than my shuffling pace and I lost sight of him after about two hours. From...
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God loves a Tryer ; the Frankfurt Marathon

I wanted to write a blog about dreams coming true -   how I conquered the sub-three-hour marathon.  But as I sit here, barely two hours after crossing the line, that isn’t a story I can tell. I ran Frankfurt in 3:04.35 officially (3.03 without the loo break!).  I’ve probably run more than a dozen marathons in my life, and my expectations tend to outstrip either my ability or my execution. The gap between what I hoped for and what I achieve can be a difficult place to sit. Today was no different. I wanted sub-three. I didn’t get it. My two great friends, Phil and Jon both achieved their goals. Phil ran 2:59:58 (incredible). Jon ran like a pro for 3:03. They set out their goals and nailed it.  Does coming up short reveal some fundamental weakness? Does failure tell us something deterministic about ourselves, some immutable truth about our character?  We want the things we achieve to tell us that we’re good enough. But the marathon is a dangerous peg on whic...
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