Been there, done that

And now I've got the t shirt!!!

If you're a professional runner, it's really important that you have a running top of good fabric, well placed seams and appropriate fit. But if you're a back o' pack runner, you only need a t-shirt so people can find you five hours later, a t-shirt that your fans will spot you amongst the pack of Everyone Else, and a t-shirt and that looks good in photos.

When I run I become very patriotic in my t-shirt choice. I have even put tattoos of Australian flags on my arms and decked myself in red white and blue. A drew a line at clip on koalas, but only just. (See below in Berlin as proof.)

Technically I have even run for my country when I ran in the BUPA UK vs Australia vs Rest of the World. I lowered the national average but still, I wore the colors and you can't tell me that's not determination on my face as I approach the finish. (I can justify the water bottle on a 5km due to an upset stomach but the head band I cannot vouch for at all.)

Ahead of Athens last year there was a moment of panic when I realised I didn't have a t-shirt. I had to spend hours in Lilywhites getting something cheap, bright and slinky. I didn't have time to wear it on a long run for a test. I then bought iron on letters from Ebay only to realise I didn't have an iron. Because I had dropped it on the floor for no apparent reason. Unfortunately no Argos stories in a 10 mile radius possessed irons. Ok, I lie they had irons, but not for a tenner which after the t-shirt and iron on letter costs, was all I was willing to pay. So I had to do an outta town trip to get an iron only to afix my letters and flag all wonky on my shirt. It's a stress you don't need when putting together an epic packing list for a marathon.

But now I have a classy solution. Behold, inhale, applaud, the official Australian running shirt. With thanks to Hot Designs.

Dear diary

It’s recommended when training for a marathon or anything that seems to take up most of your year, to keep a training diary. I love notebooks and so I have several diaries. Some of them I even write in. Rarely about my runs, instead I scribble 15 versions of training plans, nice quotes, shopping lists of things I want to buy or things I have eaten.

I wish I had kept training diaries 1) because they are great for when you get Alzheimers 2) they are great for when you want to record what things you have attributed to a drop or gain in performance 3) they are useful for reminding yourself of everything you have done to get to the start line and tell yourself that you have put in the miles. Oh well.

I do have some scribbled notes from breaking in trainers, recovery runs or start of season. They are hilarious because they seem to be longer in word count than they are in time spent running. In fact long runs rarely feature in my training diary; just the short whiny ones. They also feature cryptic elements which would not look out of place in a Dan Brown novel (eg mysterious and badly written).

For example:

“Right quad very tight. Ran to Chatsworth Rd at treadmill speed. Back at run speed. Negative split [obviously]. Right foot pins and needles. Very tight calves feel awesome. [what?]” and this goes on for paragraphs for a 3km run.

In contrast a 20 mile run says “17 and around [no idea]. Hard energy. [pardon] short start very difficult. [nope no idea] sore knees. Cry at flyover.” And that was the full entry. The only thing that made sense was the crying on the flyover; I had a stomach upset the day before and desperately needed more food.

Sometimes there are stoic entries. I don’t know if they are written with false or real bravado.

“5km Toyota dealership pins and needles so far on forefoot. Tippy tappy. [this refers to a little Chris McDouggall line in Born to Run]. All ok. Calves tight but on form. [I didn’t even realise I was capable of form but in my diary it appears so]. After turnaround on hill [half way point] checked foot for friction [I had felt some serious rubbing going on]. Blister on left arch [an understatement, I had a £2 coin worth of skin turned pink and bubbly] Vaselined. On last 5km ran with one sock off. Great run, could have pushed harder but eased off from 6km to the end.”

It’s true, I did run with one sock off and actually ran the last 400m with one a bare foot which led to some strange gait as I still had my trainer on the other foot. Anyway, wasn’t I glad that little entry was recorded in the training diary; it makes up for all the entries where I was crying!

The long and short of it

According to the training plan, written in pencil, this is “week one” of marathon training. Which means I should be able to run 4 miles this week. I think that’s probably possible as I have done training with the Running School for up to an hour and fun run around the block for about 3 miles. But I am not running 4 miles this week. And it’s not the incessant it-must-be-tennis-season-so-lets-chuck-down-the-rain that’s stopping me, but that I would like a full two weeks of resting these feet:

As you can see by the adjacent image which I hope you’re not viewing over your breakfast (or indeed any meal or snack), the feet are healing remarkably. Gone are the huge blisters filled with liquid of mysterious qualities. Gone are most of the clusters of toadspawn-like bumps. (Who on earth invented this ailment?) But as my hands have flared up in recent days due to a condition I call being allergic to work, I would like to spend another few days smearing my feet in toxic cream burning layers of my epidermis and waiting for the pharmaceutical company to call and tell me I am indeed allergic to cholorcresol. Anyway, I digress. 4 miles lies ahead, as does a plan to do some catch up exercise, which shall involve pilates at home, a session with the wonderful Galina, some strength sessions with Barry and no doubt being dragged around the block whimpering for 4 miles.

Which brings me to the point of this post, if you can call it a point. I hate running 4 miles. 5kms. Anything longer than the run for a bus and under 10km. I’d sooner run 18miles than three. And that also means if I run 18 miles, I hate the first three. I start slow, I stitch, I bitch, I grumble, my foot pronates, then the other, then it suppinates. Then my knee hurts, and my chest, and my breathing is labored. Oh I hate it. And I tell anyone I am running with or passing by or looking at or thinking of. If it’s a short run (see definition above) then I carry on like this till the half way point. Then I realise I am half way home, and I think “I can’t do this anymore, what a stupid dumb arse sport, I am going to die” and it feels like I physically pass through something like hatred and come out the other side gambolling like Bambi and run a negative split fast all the way without so much as a boo and annoy anyone I am running with. Really annoying.

In my first year or marathon training I got around this by running lots of 5km races as they are very exciting and you whinge less than if you were plodding round your local park. I did this through Nike Town Run Club (sure it’s not a race, you tell the girls I race home down the end of Regent St), the England vs Australia vs Rest of the World and a lot of Race for Life, Hydroactive and other charity runs. I built up a good 5km base which I found transferred to a quieter first 5km on long runs. So while I am sitting on my butt watching my feet heal, I am going to surf the web for some great 5km races to give me something mildly exciting to do while I get back into things.

The blog is back

Ah yes the blog is back. And not just because I want your money this time. That comes later...

It's because I can't run. For now. Maybe for a while. And so a blog, being public and shared with strangers, is the perfect place to wax lyrical about why I can't run.

I have, you see, a special Greek worded ailment. How appropriate. It's called pompholyx eczema, which translates as hand and bubble. How cute. Picture small children holding bubble rings to sunny skies and blowing rainbow blushed baubles skyward. Now burst that bubble.

What this means for me is a series of small "frogspawn"-like lumps on the sole of my foot clustered around lots of great big angry f-ck off weeping open, about to burst, killer tender blisters, nestled amongst broken, dry, cracked open wounds. Sorry, should have warned you: don't eat and read this post.

At first it was diagnosed as something I got in the beach of Ghana on recent holiday. That was my diagnosis. Then we thought maybes a verucca. Then the doctor, Mr Shipman of 59 Anson Road, who couldn't bother to look, confirmed such verucca. Then the lovely lady at NHS Barnet gave me some special salicylic acid and turpentine which made tears stream down my face in silent frustration. And now thanks to hours on google and a confirmation to a proper Antipodean doctor, we find I am blessed with hand and bubble foot.

I am so tempted to show you photos but people who know me might read this. Stick the word in google images.

Shudder.

PS there's a hashtag to follow #rowenasmankyfoot including photos. You know you want to...

In the footsteps of legends...?

[If you want recent posts: pls scroll down: this post is always on top]

Rowena ran the original Marathon to Athens route for the 2500th anniversary of the marathon event. The 26.2 mile route is a gruelling and lonely course through desolate stretches between the towns, along a highway, including a 13 mile relentless climb and steep descent to the finish at the Olympic stadium. And you can be a part of it without having to work up a sweat.

Over the years I have had a lot of generous support for big charities for big causes. This year I wanted to feel closer to the causes I am running for and for you as supporters to be closer to the causes you donate to. Living in London I see firsthand, work alongside and volunteer on a wide range of local issues. I see that there is so much that can be done on a small scale at local level that will have a knock on effect and long term impact that far outweighs the size of the donation.

East London Community Foundation (ELCF) is a grant-giving organisation that works to provide small amounts of money to grassroots organisations. For every pound donated, ELCF will obtain at least another pound in match funding from the government, increasing the value of your donation, without any cost to you. If you gift aid your donation, it will be worth £2.56 for every pound donated.

Your donation will be used to support many different small community-based charitable projects in East and North East London. You can have a say: use the comments section of the website or email me to tell me what causes you’d like to see the donations go towards. It could be working on domestic violence, a self-help group for people with disabilities and their carers, a sustainability project, social activities to bring older people out of isolation, or an activity to engage with anti-social children, to name but a few examples. Whatever it is used for, it will put local people at the heart of making a difference in their own local areas. And as the beneficiaries of that funding go on to achieve more, thanks to our support of their projects, so your donation continues to give.

I know times are tight, so I am not asking for big contributions, even the cost of a congratulation pint after a marathon will go a really long way. If I could get every facebook friend to buy me a pint then we’d have more than £1200 to spread across the community from those donations alone – not to mention giftaid and match funding. If you’re not able to donate, why not send this link to a mutual friend.

Thank you.

Donate here.

PS I did it! New posts will always be below this one so please scroll down to read on. Or back.

How the money works

A friend recently asked me how much money the charity gets after paying my airfare so I thought I'd let everyone know exactly how it works: they don't pay me to do anything! And they get all the money raised. And then a bit more.

First of all, I decide on what event to do on my own. I don't respond to charity advertising saying "do this event" or "guaranteed places" because I am looking for a charity with low fundraising overheads. So about two weeks before the marathon, East London Community Foundation was the charity that had passed all my checks! I look at their accounts, I look at their overheads, and I look at their impact. If it was a larger charity, that did a lot of fundraising with individuals like yourselves, I would look at their fundraising ratio - that is, how much it costs to raise a pound. But as ELCF get their money from trusts, government and major donors, they don't have costs for things like advertising campaigns and producing ribbons etc.

Next step, because this is the first time ELCF have had someone fundraise for them as an individual, we need to set up an online giving page. There are a lot about as it's a money making exercise. The people behind the websites take commission from every donation. But not Bmcharity, which is why ELCF chose them. They're good like that when it comes to money.

And yes, if you're a UK taxpayer, you end up giving them a little bit more, thanks to something wonderful called Gift Aid.

So back to the cost of the airline ticket. That's me! I paid for the airfare, the hotel, the entry fee and any running costs! Same as last year in Berlin, where I even flew over a first aider and a support crew! Yes I could just donate that money straight to charity and not run a step, but where's the fun in that. But also, I know about great charities and the causes they do, and I have a large number of contacts that I could spread that awareness to. Even if I got £3 from all of them it would be great. And those who can't give, might read this, and remember, and when they become a successful City worker, might remember to do a little something for a great cause.

So there's the finances laid bear but please ask if you have more questions.

Why I run for charity

A columnist in yesterday's Observer newspaper explained far better than I, why I am running for this year's charity. He writes from Islington, the situation in East London is worse. Read the full article.

"I have become a small a part of David Cameron's "big society". Islington is my corner of London and, contrary to stereotype, latte-slurping, croissant-nibbling liberals do not fill its every street. Around the islands of prosperity laps a grey ocean of poverty. Islington is the eighth-poorest borough in England, with suicide rates that can match the worst in the country. About one-third of its residents are in social housing, although where they will be living after government commissars have cleared the poor from their homes is anyone's guess.

"Local charities had already done what Conservatives and Liberals want them to do and formed a campaign group, Islington Giving, to raise money and volunteers to fill the gaps left by the shrinking state. After writing a few press releases – as I said, my contribution was shamefully small – I have learned that there is little point in leftists denigrating volunteers, particularly if they are scoffing at those who are more willing than they are to give money and time to others.

"Public-school conservatives are in power, however, not the left, and their prejudices matter more. I accept David Cameron, Nick Clegg and Iain Duncan Smith are not members of a conspiracy of plutocrats but well-meaning men, who look at the billions spent to keep millions in idleness and wish to reform the system. The trouble is that they do not understand how the system mistreats the poor and inarticulate. Inadvertently or not, they are ensuring that the law will not hear their appeals when they protest against injustice.

"I doubt many Observer readers understand either. To be educated and middle class is to know how to raise your voice without losing your temper; how to ask in an icy tone for a bureaucrat's name and the contact details of his superior, while leaving the question: "Do you know who I am and how much trouble I can cause you?" hanging in the air."