Cornered myself

When I conceived of this blog whilst driving along the M23 early one morning about a month ago  I didn’t give much thought to the hardships I would have to endure in order to succeed in what I was setting out to do, which is this:  to write about training for the London Marathon. As is so often the case with my motorway daydreams, there were plenty of romantic artistic notions bouncing around my mind but not much thought for the harsh realities of strict training schedules and – more importantly – overcoming writers block.

I admin that training for a marathon is a rather extreme method of coping with writer’s block, but after two years of idleness I decided that a mighty kick up the arse is what it will take to get me writing again. However, what I failed to grasp during those first fleeting moments of inspiration was that I would need a kick up the arse every morning for six months to get me out of bed and into my running shoes if I was to stand any chance of succeeding in my literary ambitions.

My location (the M23) on that fateful morning is not coincidental to the thought processes which led me to decide to start running – and writing again. I had spent the August bank holiday weekend on Lundy Island – one of the more exotic and remote destinations in the south west – with a group of friends which included Rachel, a keen runner who is taking part in the New York Marathon next month. Within an hour of arriving on the island (which was preceded by two hours of seasickness) Rachel set out to break the record for a Double Lundy Run, requiring her to run the entire length of the island and back again, twice – 16 miles in all, up and down some pretty steep hills too, in under 3 hours.

I was – and still am – in awe of her, imagining the dedication required to achieve that level of fitness and motivation. It was with these inspiring thoughts running riot in my head that I found myself approaching junction 7 of the M25 on that fateful Wednesday morning – as far as I’m concerned the most scenic stretch of that mighty circular – and the most enjoyable to drive too. Cruising down that long, gentle hill, my troubled little car finds it’s legs and I can easily get carried away, switching to the fast lane and joyously cruising past every other car in the vicinity. Perhaps the adrenaline was still pumping a few minutes later as I manoeuvred through light traffic on the M23 and saw the sign which inspired my great epiphany: Brighton – 26 miles.

“That’s a coincidence,” I said to myself. “This stretch of road from Gatwick to Brighton that I’ve become so familiar with during this last year is the exact length of a marathon. What a novel way to gauge the true distance of this epic race!”

I settled back in my seat and as the miles passed I continued to reflect on the challenge that Rachel has in store for her next month. It didn’t take very long for me to realise that 26 miles seems an absurdly long distance – particularly when driving it at seventy miles per hour while simultaneously imagining running. However, before that realisation struck I had already resolved to begin my training for the London Marathon next year as a means to get myself writing again. At this point I was inspired more by the neat (if somewhat gimmicky) structure that the number 26 might impose on such a wrting project (26 miles, 26 chapters, 26 weeks of training etc) than by anything to do with ultimate physical challenges or raising money for great causes. For me the challenge was to complete a writing project not complete a marathon… or so it seemed at the time. 5 miles down the road and still only halfway home I realised that the writing was probably going to be the easy part.

This is probably an opportune moment to tell you that in the aftermath of the London Marathon earlier this year I signed up for 2010 and, flushed with enthusiasm and dreams of achieving my lifelong goal of getting fit, I started jogging down the hill to the local park and returning sweaty and excited to my computer to calculate the distance I’d achieved. I succeeded on three occasions to don my running shoes before I got distracted and lost interest – the story of my life when it comes to exercise, alas. In the back of my mind all these months, tempering the feeling of failure that this latest foray into exercise engendered, has been the knowledge that I might beat the odds and get a place in the marathon next year. “How will I feel in this unlikely event?” I’ve often pondered.

Well, now is the time to find out because I’ve inadvertently foiled any plan that I may have been subconsciously entertaining to back out of the enterprise. Successfully negotiating my way out of bed and into my running shoes on three consecutive mornings last week lent something of a swagger to my posture and a bounce to my step as I carried myself around the office and finally I was tricked into revealing the cause of my good humour – I admitted to Bruno that I had entered the London Marathon and was waiting to hear if I’d got a place. My voice must’ve carried because within seconds everyone on the co-working table were involved in an animated discussion about marathons in general and my training schedule in particular.

“The odds of getting a place are pretty slim,” I explained, “Twenty to one I calculated.”
“What about the Brighton Marathon?” someone piped up helpfully, “You can do that if you don’t get a place!”

With a dawning sense of realisation I admitted that I knew nothing about it. As the pertinent details were outlined I realised that, finally, I was committed. I had cornered myself. All the cocky intellectual posturing I had been enjoying so much during the preceding weeks had led to this point and these unequivocal truths: The Brighton Marathon takes place within days of London’s so there’s no difference from a training point of view. Conceptually it’s even more appropriate subject matter for my blog, ”26 Miles to Brighton” is a perfect name for a blog about training for the Brighton Marathon. Whether I like it or not I’m running a marathon in six months time. Damn it.

It’s time to get busy training and get busy writing.

With less than a month to go you can find out how Rachel’s training is progressing here – please sponsor her!