So SRS were so 'up for it', we had to organise two teams for this here challenge. They're led by me and Anne-Marie Bird (I know, a girl - dead easy win already!). What's great about the two of us is our fantastic ability to lead a team, to set an example and to motivate our teams. That's why were' both off on holiday for the majority of May!

Team Kev, as they'll be known forever more are a motley crew of mainly coerced people who didn't really know what they were getting themselves in for. However, that's the perfect recipe. One thing this challenge isn't, is a competition of who is the fittest. That's like preaching to the converted. Instead, it's to get everyone interested in getting active and healthy and to ensure people realise that being physically active doesn't mean squatting a car or running a marathon. I think that's what puts people off sport - they don't realise that you don't have to be 'good' at it to do it. Beleive me, you should see some of the lads I play football with on a Wednesday evening. You'd think David blunket were playing Ray Charles at times!

Anyway, I digress. What's most impressed me, as a keen sportsman, is the fact that SRS were so keen they needed two teams. We have a fantastic atmosphere in our office, with (mostly) everyone being game for a laugh and willing to try something new. At the end of this month, my main aim is to have more people in our team staying active and having everyone try something new. Oh, and obliterating the opposition!

US:

THE REST OF YOU:

Now, where are my flip flops? I'm off to Thailand. So the next blog will be a guest one from someone in my team. Probably Adam Willsmore

Oh, and by the way, what a great initiative from Sussex Sport. They do an awful lot for us as staff at the university - thanks guys. (That's the win in the bag. Everyone loves a brown nose)

So, what’s a marathon like to run? What goes through your mind and how does your body react throughout a marathon? I thought this week I’d give a run down of what goes through MY mind during a marathon and how the Brighton marathon affected me this year. I thought it’d be an ideal opportunity for those running London this weekend – especially if you're doing it for the first time.

Hopefully it’ll give an insight into what taking part in a major event is like. There are certainly highs and lows, memories to be had and things to note for the future.

I’ve run 14 marathons so far this year, did 8 last year and one the year before that. Each and every one is a learning curve. I’ve still not mastered my technique, I still make huge mistakes and I expect it’ll take a long time to get it all right. But part of the fun for me is to discover what doesn’t work just as much as what does. If we didn’t make mistakes, I think it’d be harder to improve in the future. So long as one of those mistakes doesn’t harm me or those of others around me, then I think it can ultimately be beneficial.

Here’s an insight into what Brighton 2011 was like for me:

We’ll start Four days before the race:

There’s no doubt that Brighton was my big target for the first half of the year. I set my stall out and said I wanted to PB here. On the Wednesday before the race I went and did a slow and steady 6 miler. Running 8.30 miles, I was constantly reining myself in, forcing myself to slow down. Perfect start. On top of that, and this might sound a little sad to non-runners, I started to really visualise the race. I had thoughts about what might happen, what might influence what happens and how I can do my best. If you are running London this weekend (or have another marathon coming up at some point soon), I really do encourage you to sit down and run through your mind how you think you will feel at various points. When you reach a point that has a negative impact, focus on what good bits can impact on it – support from crowds, energy gels, PMA, emotions, music – anything. Then build a bridge and get over it(!), before hitting the next potential barrier and smashing it down again. If you have already got through troubled times in your mind, you will be rehearsed if and when they happen on the day.

I would also recommend here that you run through it in fast forward. I doubt you will get chance to sit down for a full 4 hours at a time!

The day before the Brighton marathon:

Was a busy one. First I went shopping for suits for the wedding. We decided that we didn’t want something too formal. Nice and simple was the key. We ended up with tails. What do you think?:

Note it’s the one with the human in it. Not the white one. The wife might get annoyed that I’ve published it on here. But she loves me, so that’s OK.

We had some friends come to visit with their gorgeous little lad. I had a great time haring round with him, chucking him about and throwing stones (admittedly mostly with his dad as he lost interest. We did not). Friends arrived later, as they were staying over before coming to watch/take part in the race. I also initially packed all of my gear for the next day and checked the Garmin was charged. Doing this lets me know that if something happens on the morning of the event, I can be almost sure everything is there and I can grab and run if I have to. I’d really recommend making sure you have everything the night before. It can help to keep you relaxed and make sure you have a good night’s sleep beforehand.

Sunday morning, before the race:

Up, breakfast (Weetabix and a banana, since you ask) and tea. Breakfast was hard. I don’t like force feeding myself, which this essentially was. I ended up putting it in an ice cream tub and eating it on the train. Then it was pre-race poo number 1. A good, solid start to the day. This is the staple poo of the day, though. Pre-race poo number two is always different.

Then to the train station to meet a friend to travel to Brighton. Jezz is great – he’s unbelievably laid back and exudes calmness. Brighton station and pre-race poo number 2 comes along. It seemed to for many, many people. Big old queue for the gents, every man with a single twenty pence piece in his hand ready for the turnstile. Well, all but that one bloke (there's always one)with no cash and a flustered look on his face whilst rummaging around in his pockets. I think he got there in the end. There were a great number of ‘turtles head’ looks on people’s faces.

This leads to point number two – pack some bog roll in your pre-race bag. Toilets are always a bone of contention at races. You certainly don’t want to get there and find no bog roll and end up having to use one of your running socks as an emergency wiping material. That would almost certainly lead to blisters. On your feet, unless your sock is particular abrasive. Anyway, I digress…

The event start is always something to behold. This is really where you need to start soaking in the atmosphere and get an idea of the magnitude of what you are doing. A marathon is an incredible thing to take part in. Most of us are shorts and vest types. Which is why looking around the park is amazing – you see what others are running in. Here’s a selection that I found via Flikr:

Man running with a really big tiger on his back

Man running as Noddy (with car!)

Man dressed as baby

Please note that none of these pictures are mine and were found on Flickr.

So I soaked up the atmosphere, had an interview with the news (the buggers never showed my clip though. I’m obviously too charismatic) and then relaxed and put my bag on the lorry.

Brighton was going to be a warm one, so I put on some sun cream. Please don’t forget this if you’re running in heat. You can seriously burn. Also try to get the sports stuff so it won’t be sweated off/run into your eyes.

The start

Queued with Rich, one of my best men for the wedding. Here we are: 

And here’s the crowd of people behind us:

Now, at the start of a marathon, DON’T BE FOOLED. There will be a bang of a gun followed by a loud cheer and off you go. But then you stop again. And then you start. And then you stop. This happens for a while. It’s the same effect as queuing on a motorway and you think something major has happened. Only to drive on later with nothing of significance to cause such disruption. Then you start cursing because you haven’t even seen any carnage. Chill out and don't get into a stride. You WILL hit a surge.

Then that's it, THE RACE HSA STARTED. You’re off. There are hundreds, thousands of people ahead of you. You are faster than then. You must take over them. They’re in your way. GET OUT OF THE WAY, I HAVE A RACE TO WIN!!! That’s the general thought. So you start to duck and dive and essentially waste a shit load of energy getting nowhere quick. Slow down and enjoy the first couple of miles. For the love of God slow down! They will be slow. They should be slow. And they should set a pattern for the rest of your run. Rich and I did this. Our first mile was an 8.30 I think, which was the slowest of all but the last two miles, I believe. If a smurf takes over you, don’t chase him down and kick his head in, you’ll have plenty of time for that later.

Miles 2-5

Set the standard, go easy and enjoy it. You have hours and hours ahead of yourself. Look out for people in the crowd, perhaps have a chat to someone and just plod on. In my opinion (which is worth the price of air), if you’re too tired to talk this early on, you won’t get very far. Brighton had crowds-ahoy for these miles and they went by so quick. So quick that we ended up doing 7.30 or so miles. But we felt good, so we carried on. We got slightly worried when we over took the guy with the 3.20 pacing sign.

Miles 5-10

Uneventful is the wrong term for these miles, but they just went by. We felt great and we had a laugh. We talked, laughed and saw lots of people we knew in the crowds. Second sighting of the wife and friends, some slight hills and then a first proper check of what my heart’s doing. My HR was up in the 180’s already. A general (simple) rule of thumb for your maximum heart rate is 220 minus your age. That makes mine 193. This is a flawed equation because at one point on the day my HR reached 195 and in the past couple of years I have gone a fair amount over 200.

Anyway, my HR was too high and way above what I had been training at. But as we felt good, we hammered on. Still able to talk and still able to have fun. We got a proper sight of the elite athletes run by, too. Incredible! They seemed to glide and looked ridiculously smooth. I was very jealous.

It was at mile 10 that my colleague Chris told me about a guy who cut across the road and essentially wiped out about 3 miles of the run. SHAME ON YOU!

Half way

Big milestone. It’s uphill from here. Well downhill. Well neither, because they both sound negative. You now have less distance to go than that which you have already traveled - that's what I mean. We passed through in 1.38. Way too quick but still very comfy. Crowds were ace here. If you’re doing London, I think this is around Tower Bridge, which is a sight to behold. If you have your name on your shirt, people will be calling you from all over the place. You’re a celebrity! Rich didn’t have his name so people were just shouting mine. He waved anyway.

We saw the mrs at mile 14 as she had an energy gel for me. They were barriered off on the other side of the road so in a super human fashion I hurdled the barrier to get it. This got a huge cheer from a big crowd and I imagined that if I had saved a child from a burning building, the crowds and cheers would be similar. I was a hero for jumping that barrier.

Mile 16-19

People are still cheering my name. I’m still enjoying it and we’re still trying to gee-up the crowd. Whippin’ them up into a frenzy. Although now my arms are getting tired and my feet don’t go so far off the floor. I’m still grinning a lot, but there’s trepidation as I know dark times are coming. Luckily I had rehearsed this in previous runs AND in my head in the past few days. I still feel remarkably fresh and I know that I armed myself with a whole range of great memories, stories and inspirational people to think about as it got harder. But for now, I plodded on. We were still traveling at 4.45km pace. This is roughly the time I took a lovely picture of Rich as we were running. He's loving it, as you can see:

Mile 19-22

The dreaded power station part of the course. The least support when it is most needed. It’s well out of the way, it’s well boring and it’s a massive test of your willpower. As well as being the area where people often ‘hit the wall’ in a proverbial fashion in any marathon, the lovely people of the Brighton Marathon made a huge sign that said ‘welcome to hell’ and erected an actual wall that you could actually hit when you ran through it. Brilliant.

Rich and I were still together up to mile 21. He started to slow and I plodded on. It’s an unwritten rule that you just carry on if someone struggles. I had no issue with this and I don’t think he did. I was surprised that he stuck with me to this point. It was his first proper marathon and had struggled when he did Eastbourne with me. But he was epic. I'm still in wonder at what he did. He's a bloody natural.  

Mile 22.5

CRAMP. Fucking shit bricks. My left calf has cramped. Stop, stretch and carry on. No problem. I still feel fine in my head and my heart/lungs. It’s just my leg. But it’s fine. It’s fine. It's a minor blip.

Mile 23

CRAMP AGAIN. Arse! Left calf. Stop and stretch. Shit, whilst I am stretching, my groin is cramping. Bugger. OK, your body is telling you to slow down. This is what I will do. Negative thoughts come and I’m a little upset because cramp is something that I cannot fight against. It is the only thing that can stop me running. I haven’t had to use any of my mental triggers to keep me going. I am mentally immortal right now but my muscles are screaming and doing their own thing. Slow down to a plod. I hope Rich is OK. I had prepared myself with lots of emotional thoughts – what would my dad make of today? What would he shout at me when I found it hard? What would he say to me when I finished? What was it like the last time I completed a big run? They were all there to get me through the dark times. I’ll keep them locked away for next time. That work won’t be wasted.

Mile 23.25, mile 23.5, mile 23.75 and so on and so on

Lots of stops. I feel really drained and I’m getting a little bit upset. The guy with the 2.20 marker has gone by me and I’m having to stop and stretch a lot. Rich also runs by. I catch him and tell him I’m cramping. I need to justify why I’m stopping – I need to let him know it’s not because I’m mentally weak. Being the beautiful guy he is, he apologises that he is going to keep going because if he stops he won’t be able to carry on. And off he plods.

I know a little about sports nutrition, feeding, salt, sweat and hydration. I hadn't taken on any salts throughout the run. I think my year so far has taken it's toll.

Mile 24-25

I am now resigned to slowing to a gentle plod and regular stretching stops. As disheartening as this is, I have managed to rationalise with myself that what I am doing is pretty amazing. I am running a lot of marathons this year, am ahead of schedule on a very hot day and can’t have done anything more. I’m pleased just to be running and this is a huge weight off my shoulders. My only concern is that I can’t nail the last km like I usually do. I love to tame the last km to show myself how strong I can be, but any pace about 10km/h brings the cramp on again. I have to be slow and steady.

Mile 25-26.2

Frankly, I’m just loving it. What an incredible event. I’m going to come in for a PB. I finished in 3.26.24 and I know I can go faster and harder. My run morphed into what looked like Charlie Chaplin trying to carry a piano on his own. 

Celebrations with Rich at the end (3.24.something) and big smiles. What an incredible run.

So that’s what my marathon felt like. It’s such an amazing experience and I genuinely loved every minute. My biggest tip is to take it all in and to dispel ALL negative thoughts. If you’re not on target, so what. You weren’t going to win the race and you can only do your best. And there is always another time. Go with your heart AND with your head. Use them both and so long as you work hard you’ll get your rewards.

And also, once you’ve finished and pulled yourself together, go and meet the people you love and watch some other people finish. You will see all sorts of people crossing the line and will be inspired to run again. They deserve cheers and would love someone who has finished to give them a final bit of encouragement.

Then, have some time off. I don’t have that luxury, but if you can, chill out max.

The result of all the running is my ace varicose veins – look:

That’s it from me. Before I end this, though, I want to give a shout out to Vektor, who are a specialist printing company who have sponsored my running vests. They’re really helpful and did the vest below for me. Top blokes – go there for all your printing needs.

Little Abi anecdote to finish –

We were in the office earlier discussing the joys of Twitter. Abi announced that she doesn’t really use it, but follows the likes of BBC World, Harvard Business and The Financial Times. She stated “I’m not sure why I follow them. I don’t understand what they mean, usually. Like GDP. What’s that? Gross Dirt Product or something, I think”.

What do you reckon, shall we get her to publish her thoughts to Twitter and get people following her?

Hero of the week – Richard ‘big guns’ ‘Mitch Ray’ May. Proper hard worker. He loved the run. And so he should have done.

Kev

And don’t forget to donate – http://is.gd/sJ7mO5 (I want to even the two up a bit)

Hello and welcome to the next blog. Sorry it’s taken a while to write. There’s been a lot going on and frankly, I didn’t want to write for the sake of writing. So here it is. Stick with it, I think it will appeal to most. It includes failure, running etuqiette and how I got banned from McDonalds, as well as a picture of my dog, who I shaved this week.

Failure. Just what is it? I don’t want this to sound like some kind of philosophical musing but seriously – what is it? If you ask that there interweb what it is, then you get this:

‘The condition or fact of not achieving the desired end or ends’.

I ask, because on Sunday I failed. Or at least I thought I did. I pulled up in a marathon. After 11 miles I gave in. I stopped running, pulled out, did not complete the run. So I failed, I thought. After many great comments from people, though, I realised this might not be the case. Because if my desired end (for this particular goal, anyway) is to complete 52 sub 4 hour marathons this year, then I had only not achieved a component of the challenge as opposed to failing at it.

And so I have gained some perspective this week. Because ultimately, not doing something you hope or not achieving something you desire does not mean you have failed – it means that you have not yet succeeded and reached the desired end. It doesn’t mean it won’t happen – it just means it hasn’t yet. I may not have run that marathon on Sunday, but I will make up for it at some point in the year!

What has affected me, though, is that I am now not as certain as I was before about achieving a PB at the Brighton Marathon. What if it all goes tits up? I guess I won’t know until the day. I may not be confident of beating that time, but I am confident that I will put my entire heart and soul into the run. So long as I feel like I am going to die at the end, then I will have tried my hardest.

Interestingly, I wonder that if you transfer the definition of failure to suicide, does it suggest that suicide itself is not failing in life, as you have achieved the desired end? That is if it is indeed the desired end – and whether the person is of sound mind when they make the choice to die. Because I would say that most people ‘think’ about the act before actually doing it. But that’s just my own opinion. Others may hold others.

Now then, why did I not succeed? Well, my hip flexor was giving me jip. It was pretty agonising and I made a really tough decision to stop. It’s not in my nature to stop, and I toiled from about 7 miles through to 11 trying to think of reasons to keep going, but I now see that I made the right decision to stop because my leg could have become much more painful and have formed into a long term injury. The reason this all happened, I must say, is because I had already run a marathon on Saturday. Yeah yeah yeah, two marathons in two days. I honestly thought I could do it. Turns out I couldn’t! Here are the results for Saturday’s, which was at Dorney Lake. A fast first half marathon (1hour 38minutes) made the wheels come off in the second half!

So that’s the negative stuff out of the way. Well most of it, anyway. I also didn’t run a marathon last week – because I twisted my ankle playing football. But I’m not willing to give up on the football. I can’t – I enjoy playing too much. So I continue to walk on that knife edge.

Before that, on March 13^th I did the Surrey Spitfire 20 which was run (brilliantly, by the way) by Events to Live. It was a great day. Loved it. First and foremost, it gave us the opportunity to run around the Top Gear Test Track. Running around ‘Gambon’, I knew I wasn’t the only person in the field who was making a car-tyre screeching noise in my head. Come on, we’re all children at heart. I obviously did an extra 6.2 miles on the end. The first 20 miles were flyers – I finished in 2 hours 30 minutes. Boom! Check the results page here (I came 93^rd). That day I did forget my Garmin, though. So I had to use the GPS on my phone. So here’s a link to the Runkeeper data for the last 6.2miles. Apologies that it’s a bit inaccurate. Trust me when I say the straight lines mean they’re gone off track and have taken distance away rather than added it on.

Aside from the physical act of running, it’s been a busy few weeks. I had the absolute privilege to meet Liz Yelling and Richard Whitehead on Saturday. Two incredible marathon runners and generally top people. Here’s me and my new bezzie mate Liz:

I’ve also been given the opportunity to go to New York for the marathon there. It’s not a done deal yet, but I have been donated the flights by two amazing supporters! I won’t name them, as I know one wants to remain anonymous, but the generosity speaks volumes about the kinds of support I have received from people. I really hope that I continue to grab the imagination of people following my progress. I’ll keep you updated on this. Fingers crossed I can get a guaranteed entry, but at the minute it’s falling on deaf ears – if you know anyone who may be able to help me gain a place please please please ask them for me. I’d be ever indebted.

Let’s talk about etiquette. More specifically, the etiquette running per se, as well as the etiquette of the runners themselves.

There’s much debate out there of the dos and don’ts of running. Is it OK, for instance, to stop at a pub for a wee when you are mid run, when you have no intention of also stopping for a pint, for example?

 Remember that all I offer here is totally my own opinion – if you agree or disagree then comment below…

First of all – MP3 players. Is it OK to run with these in a race? Many race directors say no and ban them. I say that you have to be an adult to race, so you should be an adult in making the decision yourself. They say it is to keep safe when you are running – but if you’re allowed to dress as a giant rhino and run, then arguably can have potential for you to do damage to yourself, as you don’t have great vision AND your hearing is impaired. So I guess the answer is that if you do run with music, make sure it’s for charity and then it’s OK. But do also know that you need to be aware of what is going on around you. I used to always run with music. Now it is hardly ever – purely down to personal preference. I use it as a reward system if I am finding a particular run quite hard. 

Next up it’s greeting other runners. I used to get pretty sick of miserable bastards ignoring me as I said hello when I ran by them. I would prefer it if runners nodded, put up a hand, said hello or even winked at me (which has happened when close to Dukes Mound in Brighton! I also once saw a condom land at my feet from the bush!). But they don’t always do it. However, it must be pointed out that they might be in a personal battle and unable to talk. They might be in the zone or simply too tired. So who am I to break them out of that? They may, of course, be wearing an MP3 player and so unable to hear. So if you’re warning them that they’re about to tread in dog shit, make sure you use actions AND words. Or just let them step in it because they deserve it for wearing an MP3 player.

Acting around other runners and pedestrians. I don’t know whether you should pass other runners down the left or the right. Or whether you should warn them first. I tend to warn people who are walking down the street with their back to me. Otherwise I could be a mugger or a rapist! So I tend to give a “Hi, I’m running towards you, but it’s OK because I’m a runner and not a mugger or a rapist”. I’m obviously a slow runner to say all of that. And then there’s which side you should go if you are running towards other runners. Do you go left or right? Or just straight into them? I always give a point in the direction I’m going to go. That then covers the plebs who might be wearing an MP3 player. Trouble is, they might think you’re indicating that it should be them who moves on that direction!

As for pedestrians, well just be careful. Hold your ground and remember that you are allowed on the path as much as them. A close colleague found this out recently when she was abused by a disabled man when running on the seafront. The fact that he is disabled plays little to no part in the fact that she was abused. As far as I’m aware, disabled people are almost as unlikely to hit a runner as your average Joe. Anyway, I mentioned he was disabled because said darling colleague informed me that the man shouted abuse at her and then hit her with his crotch. Yes, that’s right. His crotch. Now there’s a disability most men would love. To be able to hit someone with your crotch is a hell of a skill.

Talking about running. How much should you talk about running? And what should you talk about? Is it common ground? Do you sound like a knob? I was stood in a queue for the toilet at a race not long ago and the blokes in front of me were chatting. I was listening and not getting involved as a) they were having a proverbial cock measuring and b) I was concentrating on ‘waiting my turn’ and not shitting myself. Those queues are always really long. They were talking about how many miles they run per week. “I only do about 190 a week. I used to do a lot more”.

“Oh yeah, I’ve slowed down this year. I’m only doing seven Ironman and four ultramarathons.” I love the look of the veteran runners around them who invariably cover a shit load of miles per week, but equally don’t measure it and are blatantly well endowed. Not covered here, but to be considered is the fact that apparently not everyone loves running and would prefer not to talk about it. Take this with a pinch of salt, though. Because deep down, they bloody love the idea of running in Five Fingers and without doubt want to hear what every mile split was from your last long run and how brown pasta has a much longer glycaemic index.

Cheating. Or withholding information, at least. I have been involved in two events where this has happened. One was at an event where we ran three marathons in three days. All off road and all self-navigated. It was called a ‘challenge’ as opposed to a race. But some absolute bell ends decided that where they could, they would cut corners. Instead of running around the perimeter of a field, for example, they would cut across it. In one case, I even saw them run across a friggin’ building site. I mean Jeez. That really gets on my tits. There is no first prize you absolute cocknocks. Who’s going to care, really? Well obviously I do, for a start. It’s managed to piss me off enough to write about it in my blog! The other example was when I was running the Chichester Challenge last year. Again, it was off road. As we ran up a track, there was a guy about 50meters ahead who carried on up the track. He missed an arrow that pointed left. The guy running just behind me said “don’t tell him, mate. Let him go on, it’s his own fault”. That guy is a pleb. A twat. A moron and a gimp. Again, there was no way we were going to win the race. So I called him a dick (in my mind as opposed to verbally, as he looked handy) and shouted after the guy. The guy thanked me and then ran off into the distance.

Finally, going back to the question of whether you can stop in a pub for a wee – it depends what pub (or establishment) it is. I must be the only person who has ever been banned from the McDonalds on the A259 to Brighton. Last year, when I was training for the 3 marathons in 3 days thing I would often run home from work. Being quite new to distance running, my guts often took some adjusting and about 11 miles in, ideally situated, was McDonalds. And so I would plod in wearing my tight tights and little vest with woolly hat and gloves. My McShit was well deserved and a hell of a relief. Trouble is, after a few visits I gained notoriety and was met at the door by someone with a number of gold starts on his chest. I guess one of them was awarded for turning people away from using the toilet facilities without buying anything. Shit! Literally! I had to find another plan. Luckily, I always carry money with me. So I told the jobsworth that I would buy something, went to the counter and bought the cheapest item – a hambuger, since you ask – and then threw it into the bin before heading to the john for a McShit with a grin on my face. Best 79p I’ve ever spent. And cheaper than some toilets at London train stations. Trouble is, on leaving the shop, I was asked not to come back – paying or not. Discrimination, that! Good job there are lots of lovely pubs in Shoreham who are more than willing to help me out. They often provide a nice glass of water if needed.

Before I go, please also note that it is important to be nice to race marshals – they give up their own time to help at races!

Things I haven’t yet talked about and will save for another time include meeting the brilliant people at the Sports business Network, the effects of self belief and knowledge of what you can achieve and the mental states achieved when running. All topics for another time, of course.

For now, it’s over and out. But not before showing you a picture of my dog, whom I took the clippers to and shaved mercilessly. Sorry, boy.

Please do remember to spread the word of what I’m doing. Share the blog on Facebook and Twitter, direct people to the website http://www.52marathons.co.uk and give them my email if they want to find out more kev@52marathons.co.uk

And finally, don’t forget that I’m raising money for two great charities:

http://is.gd/IyWkpG - Passingiton

http://is.gd/IyWkpG2 - Rethink

Hello one and all and welcome to the fourth instalment of the blog! This week, there will be no poignant reminders of why I run, no tales of inspiration and overcoming adversity and no mention of emotional turmoil, mental anguish and death. Instead, this blog will contain anecdotes about seeping sores, the truth behind man’s obsession with weight and metrosexuality and why you shouldn’t talk about the disability discrimination act and follow it by saying “he didn’t have a leg to stand on”.

 A lot has happened since the last blog. It was a whole two weeks ago, after all. The reception to the blog was amazing. I’m so pleased I decided to publish it. I had loads of great comments, lots of people contacted me to wish me well and more people got interested in the challenge. That’s exactly what I mean when I talk about using my experiences to influence others. Now just to keep them all reading…

 Usually this is the point where I say I have run two marathons in the two weeks since the last blog, but I’ve actually run three! Because I want to take a week off before the Brighton Marathon, I thought I’d create this ‘buffer’. So I did. The first two were treadmill marathons. The first was on the Thursday, then another on the Sunday, and then a week until another in Eastbourne. One good thing about this constant running lark is that my legs are hardy – I can walk normally the day after a marathon. Contrast this with the fact that I walked like I shit myself for an entire week after my first marathon, and it proves the body is a brilliant thing by adapting to demands!

There is nothing eventful about the first two. The Thursday one was straightforward and done in a reserved 3 hours 43. The second one was surprisingly quick. With only two days rest, I ran a 3 hour 35 marathon on the Sunday. This is because I got so bored that I changed the way I ran and did some intervals. I ran a ‘normal’ half marathon, followed by intervals for seven miles. That’s why there’s lots of peaks and troughs in the Garmin chart. I’m going to stop publishing the pictures of the running machines and the heart rate charts, but they are on file if you need proof of times. of The heart rates (and distances etc where relevant) can be accessed directly here:

Thursday 24^th Feb: http://is.gd/5v5B58  

Sunday 27^th Feb: http://is.gd/njsRas

So what else has happened in the two weeks? Running wise, not a lot. I’ve ticked over with a few jogs, played a lot of football and cycled to/from work a couple of times. But I keep putting on weight! Unbelievable. At this rate, I’m going to be running a 3.30 marathon whilst carrying the equivalent of Rick Waller on my back! I’ve so far put on 2kg this year. 4.4lbs! So it seems I have been eating too much. I’m definitely fitter, but take away the ‘i’ and add an ‘a’ and I’m also fatter. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not super chunk. I don’t wobble when I walk and I don’t get a semi at the thought of cheesy chips. But equally, my body isn’t doing what it is supposed to be doing.

Blokes talk about their weights more than you might think (ladies). I don’t know if all the blokes reading this will agree, but when we’re in groups, weight, knobs, farting (and other toilet activity) and “I suppose I can see why women might think he’s a good looking guy” all come into a general conversation. The number of times we have discussed which of our mates is the best looking (Graham invariably wins) astounds me.

I have this mate. Not unlike Ris Clang, I won’t give you his proper name. Instead, we shall call him ‘Mitch Ray’. I would say that Mitch, more than most, worries about his weight and his body shape. Here is a picture of Mitch. I have disguised his eyes so to save his identity:

Mitch wants to be a ‘big unit’; he wants people to look at him and go “wow, that bloke is massive”. Mitch also worries about his love handles, though. He wobbles them a lot and says “no matter what I do, this area of fat never goes”. Then he lifts up his next pint of Guinness and declares that it’s genetic like his short calves, which also give him jip. Mitch is a man who has many a great anecdote associated with him. One of my favourites that is often brought out in the pub is as follows: whilst working out in the gym he turned to our mates and with a straight yet inquisitive face and said, “do you weigh more with a hard on?” Sheer genius. Unless we work with professionals in the world of fitness and other areas of our lives, I don’t think we will ever reach our full potential. We will always try our best, but without people in the know, we only do what we think is right. Mitch could lose the love handles, get massive muscles and do an equation to see how much more his tallywhacker weighs when it’s in a friendly mood – but he would need the advice and guidance of people in the know to reach full potential. More on Mitch later.

 I made a couple of silly running relate mistakes in the last couple of weeks, too. The first was to wear shorts that were too short (I’m not talking budgie smuggling short, but mid-thigh). I got sores on the insides of my legs. The weepy sort that sticks to the bed clothes at night and you have to peel it off in the morning. In such a place that never properly heals because I’m always walking somewhere. I took a picture with my with my contortionist like skills, carefully hiding the wrinkly dangly bits to show the (ahem!) wounds. Yum! Note – they look worse in real life!

Anyway – this was on the Thursday, which meant I had to get a quick fix for the Sunday. Easy – pop into the Tesco Express on the way to the run, get some Vaseline and lube that bad boy up. They didn’t have any of the big pots in the shop. In fact, all they had was Vaseline lip-balm. Never mind, that’s fine. It’ll do. It was really over priced and in a small round pot, but lips or legs, it’ll stop the chaffing. I really should read the labels of things before applying them, though – turns out I bought the mint/tea-tree flavour one. It was akin to rubbing Deep Heat on your todger. The sensation/pain was somewhere between the Deep Heat scenario (ie agony worse than child birth) and the Mint Source shower gel scenario (you know the one that tingles and you’re not sure if you’re enjoying it or not?). So that hurt and wasn’t ideal.

The next idiotic thing I did was just this Sunday, where part way through the Eastbourne Half Marathon, when the sweat came on, my head started to itch more than usual. It wouldn’t go away and it felt uncomfortable. Turns out that in my early Sunday morning stupor, I had a shower and forgot to wash out the shampoo from my hair. Instead, I just wiped it out with the towel and went. You might say I only did the 'Go' half of ‘Wash&Go’!

 I’m not the most politically correct of people. Raising money for the charities I do, I realise now that I have to be careful not to offend people. Like many people, I don’t mean anything when I use terms like ‘mental’ or ‘crazy’. I never mean to offend, I just have a casual relationship with language and with descriptions of things. So whilst at a management training session just last week, I couldn’t help but laugh when the group was told that the disability discrimination act could be used for many reasons and a person may choose to sue the organisation they work for, should it be relevant. Deadpan, the course trainer said “in which case, the organisation wouldn’t have a leg to stand on”. A couple of ‘those looks’ flew my way when I sniggered a little but I’m comfortable that I don’t discriminate and that I’m a fair and non-judgemental person. That’s why I am fine with letting my mrs think she makes all the important decisions, and why I don’t have an issue with the fact that my mate Rob has Chinese heritage or that the gap between Elliot’s toes is bigger than those of most people.

 To finish, it’s back to Mitch Ray. Who this weekend became a hero. I’m not kidding, either. Eastbourne Half marathon (twice) was planned and undertaken. Mitch is a massive supporter, a top bloke and someone who flogs himself to help me out for nothing more than my thanks. He never seeks the recognition he should perhaps automatically get. He’s driven me to a number of run venues, taken part in them and cycled/run in bitter cold when he didn’t have to. This weekend he went the extra (13.1) mile(s). Instead of cycling the first half of the run followed by taking part in the second half marathon himself, he decided to take it on with me. The whole thing. The whole shebang. The lot. All of it! He is in training for the Brighton Marathon in April so he’s fit and he’s got a few decent runs in him. But his furthest ever run was 18 miles - up until Sunday, that is. Another 8.2 miles on top of that is huge. Rich, sorry – Mitch, took the first half marathon easy and felt good when it came to starting the second. Around we went and as time went on he struggled. His colour drained and his style became sluggish. Welcome to the joys of a marathon, Mitch. As I said in my Q&A, a marathon isn’t simply two half marathons back to back. It’s a huge challenge – physically and mentally. Which is why I’m bloody astounded that Mitch completed it, and a fair way under four hours, at that. I’m really proud of him for his achievement and can totally relate to his feeling of relief and emotion on completion. It’s a massive achievement – huge congratulations on completing that run. But more than that, I can’t offer enough thanks for him helping me out so much.

Having said all of that, I did take great pleasure in seeing him suffer. THAT’S WHAT IT’S LIKE. THAT’S THE PAIN A MARATHON BRINGS. HA! IT’S NOT THAT EASY, IS IT? FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEL THE BURN, BITCH!

Details for the Eastbourne run can be found here: http://is.gd/w3cBnH

 Ignore anything beyond 3 hours 55 minutes. I managed to turn the timer back on when I was on the bus back to Brighton. We didn’t run at 120km/h at any point!.

 Mitch is such a nice guy that at the end of the run, he presented me with my lunch. Here is is…

NOM NOM NOM

 And finally (in a Sir Trevor McDonald kind of way), I have some other big thanks to offer. Brooks Running donated three pairs of running shoes to me. Some trail, some standard stability shoes and some race shoes. Thank you – that’s saved a lot of cash. Here they are:

 Mark (@Marks10in10in11 on Twitter) and Sharon from the JW Ultra have given me free entry into their 30 mile trail run this year. See www.ultrarunner.co.uk for details. The site has been under construction, so keep checking back.

 The lovely people at the Potters ‘Arf up in Staffordshire have also given me sponsored entry, too. I’m told it’s a brilliantly supported run, and Phil  (@6townsrunner) has promised me a spot on his radio show to promote me doing it. http://www.potters-arf.co.uk/

 The wonderful people at Events To Live have also given me free entry to next weekend’s Spitfire 20 (with an additional 6, obviously). They do loads of great events. Take a look: www.eventstolive.co.uk

 Finally, the lovely Liz Yelling of brilliant marathon running fame has donated a pair of signed trainers to the cause. They will be used as a prize or similar for a future event. I also gained a place on the Virgin London Marathon training day with her and her husband Martin. Can’t wait – will report back on that.

 Next blog – my plans for a New Year’s Eve fun marathon (is there such a thing?), the amazing people who support me and follow me on Facebook and Twitter, forgetting to add flour to the cake mix for my very own cake sale! I’m also going to address what I eat!

For now, it’s over and out. Keep the questions, comments and witty remarks coming. You know the drill by now – please pass this on to your friends and family. One day, I dream of trending on Twitter. Then I’ll have made it!

Cheers 

Kev

 It was pay day last week – so hand it over…

www.justgiving.com/52marathons - Passingiton

www.justgiving.com/52marathons2 - Rethink! Survivors of Suicide

Hi all.

If you have regularly read my blog, you will know that I am running 52 marathons this year for two really important charities. My blog is generally cheery, covers everything from running to mental health, dog poo to fancy dress.

This week's blog is slightly different. It was difficult to write because of the content - it's pretty raw and covers the perspective of a survivor of suicide and what inspires me to run. I'm not sure that the content is right for the university's social network so I have decided not to publish it here this week. If you would like to read it, you are more than welcome to do so. You can find it here http://is.gd/SvTihX and I would encourage you to share it with people. It's about breaking the taboo.

The next blog will revert to the light hearted approach I have grown to love. But right now, I think this one is much more important.

Comments, as always, are welcome. Discussion is encouraged!

Thanks,

Kev

Here it is, folks. Blog number four. It’s a cliché, but time is flying and I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since the last one. Further to that, I can’t believe I’ve now completed six of the marathons. Only 46 to go. I’ve done over 10% of them!

This week I’m going to talk about my experimentation with the world of television, the two runs I’ve done since the last blog and then I’m going drag the tone down a bit.

So, first things first. I am a celebrity. I hang out with awesome celebrity people like Lawrence Llewlyn-Bowen. When I say awesome people, I mean people. And when I say hang out with, I mean get ignored by. I’ll tell you what, if Gray and Keys got the sack from Sky for being sexist, you should have heard what he said about the production assistant!

Let me tell you a little about what we had to do. The setup was pretty simple. They (ITV) gave us £250 and we went out and bought a load of tat with it. Said tat was then to be ‘upcycled’ – ie cleaned up, perhaps painted and given a spruce up, and then sold at an auction party. We had a week to give everything a makeover. Unfortunately for my team, I am a charlatan. I went out with everyone to buy the tat. My contributions were to find a porcelain duck that had a smile on its face and a commemorative plate issued by the Daily Mail with the Queen Mother’s (God rest her wrinkly soul) face on it. I then proceeded to bugger off for the week to a conference – leaving my team in the lurch. For this I am not sorry. I have no practical or artistic prowess. Ask my mrs – last year I tiled our entire bathroom and used black grout. Why? You ask. Well I thought it would turn white with some sort of magical chemical reaction! It didn’t. Instead, we had an odd looking bathroom with badly fitting tiles. In my defence, I have never tiled before and was in well over my neck. We managed to sell the flat, mind you.

Anyway, back to the show. We got to the party night to meet the opposition. Bloody lovely people. Really, really nice. On top of that, they had an amazing collection of stuff with them. It wasn’t tat. Turns out they were all bloody artists and had employed other artists to spruce their stuff up. It was incredible. We had a load of old shit with the addition of a couple of cracking pieces of art donated by Matt Lambert and Henrik Simonsen. Both great artists and life savers! There was a huge disparity in the quality of items. Here are our items:

So there we were at this party and in walked the opposition and huge numbers of guests. All in eveningwear. Including a woman in what can only be described as a birds nest in her hair. That was art, apparently. Oops, I thought. But at least my team were all in the same boat as me when I turned up from work in my civvies. Matt and Henrik were dressed down and Jim looked like your average bloke. Then Jim walks in and says ‘right, I’m going to go and get changed’. Out of this bag comes a bloody Ted Baker suit. What a bloody joker! He right stitched us up. So there’s him looking dapper next to LLB (his suit was bloody awful mind you – see below), and there’s us dressed like a bunch of tramps. Oh well, we are what we are! Jim describes himself in his Ted Baker suit as Gerard’s Butler.

We had a good night. Unsurprisingly, we lost. We took a spanking. BUT we did make £1,400 for Passingiton and we did have a bloody good laugh. We’re new to this media lark. Here’s a picture of Jim talking to one of the crew.

His exact words at this point are “can you tell me how to turn this mic off? I need to go and do a poo and I don’t want the sound people to hear it going plop plop plop”. Bless him.

Right, the runs… (That joke was too easy!) Last week (Sunday 30^th Jan) was uneventful. I think it’d be silly to describe every one of my runs every time I do one. One thing did make me smile about the day, though. One of the girls I work with came down to say hi. Abi, bless her, came down, stood next to me and helped me fill some of the time. All I did was moan, as my foot was hurting. She’s so nice she pretended she didn’t mind, though. A little more on the foot in a while.

Anyway, I think it would be a travesty if I didn’t offer you an Abi anecdote. There are hundreds of them, but this is one of my favourites. We were due a delivery of stationery and alike in to the office. We were short on printer paper, which was going to be a problem. It was irresistible – I popped my head over the divide between our desks and ask her to give Keith a ring in the Print Unit. “Can you tell him we’re short on paper for me? Ask him to fax some through until we get our delivery.” Abi looked quizzically at me. Was I being serious? Do fax machines work like that? “ummm, really?” she responded. “But surely… Um ok then”. Bless her. It would be funny to say that Abi was drawn in hook, line and sinker, but that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I think she worked out (after a short while) that paper doesn’t appear through a fax machine, but certainly didn’t work it out straight away and was too lovely to question it directly!

Splits and HR for last week’s run below… I did a lot of walking towards the end because my foot swelled up and got really painful.

 Split 1                                             Split 2

Split 3                                              Split 4

On to this week’s run. My foot hurt all week. I took the advice of the lovely Helen at Finefettle, the people who are looking after my physical wellbeing, and iced it etc during the week. I don’t think playing football three times and doing a few runs helped, mind you. C’est la vie.

So I had a painful foot. This was exacerbated by the fact that I went to a gig on Friday night and both my lower calves swelled up. Well painful and rigid! So much so that my planned Saturday run turned into a Sunday run. It seems I can run multiple marathons but I can’t stand still for a couple of hours. Great gig, mind!

Anyway, it hurt from the start. First 10k was horrid. It really lagged and I was really bored. Foot got worse and worse. Second 10k was just as bad and as I approached half way, I decided I would pop to the changing room (don’t worry, I left the stopwatch running) and get some paracetamol to take the edge off of it. Third 10k was dead comfy. I was floating along and felt like challenging myself. I went a little faster. The fastest 10k of the lot so far – and I ran the entire way. I RAN 30K!!! No problem! So on to the final bit. Still felt pretty good. I actually only walked twice (See the two lulls in the HR bit for proof), and ran intervals most of the way. Fastest final section of all that I have done. Check out the times below. If I didn’t take two pisses and get the paracetamol, I would have gone proper quick! 3 hours 35 minutes! I was so surprised. And I woke up this morning feeling fantastic! Legs feel fully recovered, but the foot is a bit of an issue.

Split 1                                              Split 2

Split 3                                             Split 4

Apart from the feet, my body is holding up well. Chaffing is the only issue. I have a mate who shall remain anonymous (let’s call him Ris Clang for the story’s sake) who has pretty much rubbed his entire nipple off over the years from wearing sports tops. I don’t want this! I have scars just below what is commonly known as the ‘gooch’ or the ‘barse’ (ie the bit between the balls and the arse. I guess this means girls don’t have a barse. Anyway, I digress…). This is because my big fat legs rub together when I run, the salt acts like sand paper and it rubs my poor skin away. It’s like an old leather satchel now. And worse still, my mrs won’t have a look and tell me how bad it is. I imagine it to be like a World War 2 trench but short of becoming a yoga master, folding myself in half and reaching a camera phone or mirror in all sorts of places, I guess I’ll never know.

This week I have an appointment with Finefettle to straighten me out. Helen is already great with the advice via email. I’ll report back next week on how much pain she puts me through this week.  

Half marathon next week (twice of course) in Portsmouth. Really looking forward to it. I hope the wind isn’t like it is at the minute, though.

For now, it’s over and out again. I’ve said enough (read: too much).

Feel free to contact me with encouragement or (jovial) insults at kev@52marathons.co.uk

Remember – give me your money! www.justgiving.com/52marathons

And follow me on Twitter @52marathonman

And for heaven’s sake like me on Facebook!

PS - that guy who's made me look a nob by running 365 marathons in a year - thanks a bloody lot! As Adam said - I bet he didnt hold down a 9-5 job during the week!

I write this blog sat at my desk on Monday, the day after the fourth marathon of the year so far. I’m feeling quite rough and may have over exerted myself yesterday – I very nearly passed out on the walk to the station after completing it. More on this later. I’ve decided to write only once every other week or so, as I don’t want to bore the pants off people – which is wholly possible.

So, let’s work in chronological order. First off, the third run of the year so far, which was just over a week ago. Again, on the treadmill of doom. Quite straightforward though. I finished in 3 hours 47 minutes. It made more sense to do 3 10k runs and 12.2k run and add the times together. I wore my heart rate monitor and you can see the outcome here:

Note the numerous lulls in heart rate. The first is stopping after 10k and then restarting. It takes time, you know. The next is a piss stop. After that, each lull is a walking break or a ‘restart’ of the treadmill. As you can see, I am still using a walk/run technique for the latter parts of a run. I’m not yet fit enough to run a whole one. Or I’m not patient enough to run at a slower pace but more steadily for the whole run. I’m weird like that, and would rather more punishment interspersed with bits of recovery. The only major issue I had was that I put too much salt in one of my water bottles (I have one that is just water and another that is salty – to replace that lost in sweat). Trouble is, I chose the wrong cap on the salt tub in the morning and instead of ‘sprinkling’ into the bottle, it ‘poured’. I’m still experimenting over what works best. This is the second time I’ve done this and frankly, I may as well save myself some money and get it out of the sea. Must get the basics right! Although, and consider this for a moment, why not just drink some water and intersperse it with licking my arm/shoulder to get the salt back in! Because I form a white crust where all the salt dries on.

 So that one was done and dusted. Total time of 3.46.46 according to the watch. Splits below:

Split 1                                 Split 2

Split 3                                 Split 4

 I felt great the next day, too. No recovery issues – felt loose, able to walk normally and all in all, a happy bunny was I. I also cycled to work and back one day and played football twice. This will increase.

This week has been a busy one. First off, we have had a screen test for, and subsequent invitation to take part in ‘Auction Party’  on ITV to promote Passingiton and my runs (the leg type – my guts are working jus fine!). Essentially, I will become a huge celebrity and so if you want an autograph, get in now whilst they’re cheap.

I’m not fully aware of what it involves, but my understanding is that we have to ponce around Brighton with Lawrence Llewelyn-Bowen and a film crew, buying some old tat and ‘doing it up’ before selling it on to some unsuspecting mug (you?!?!) a week later at the auction party itself. Should be a laugh and I’m bound to make a tit of myself.

If you want to come along (Monday 31^st Jan somewhere in Brighton) and possibly get on telly, give me a shout (kev@52marathons.co.uk). You don’t have to buy anything, but you do have to smile and look pretty. Well, as pretty as possible, anyway. Well OK, just not repulse the telly people. Equally, if you would like to dare me to try to get certain words on to the telly for a donation, let me know what the word is and how much you are willing to pay!

I have had loads of encouragement this week, too. Things are slowly plodding on and it was nice to be spotted on the train and talked to about all the runs. If you have any questions about it, give me a shout on the email address above. Happy to field any questions.

I got talked about in the changing rooms of Riptide on Sunday, too. I had set up my treadmill and then popped back into the changing rooms for ‘last minute preparations’. As I was sat there minding my own business and concentrating on giving it just a little extra push, I overheard a couple of guys talking about me. Brilliant, I thought – news is getting out there. The conversation then progressed towards “it’s mental. He’ll never do it” and “It’ll destroy him if he does it. And the important word is if”. “Yeah, he’ll probably just drop out in the summer or something”. I sniggered because they were talking about me. But then I was offended because they were questioning me. I WILL DO THIS!!! However, they did suggest it was a great feat if not a silly one. I flushed (I’m a conscientious gym user after all) and plodded out. They looked sheepishly at me. I think it was because they realised who I was…

This week, I made a conscious effort during the run to make myself run a bit further each time without walking. I set myself the target of 30km straight running without a walk and at a constant pace (12.1km/h, since you as). I failed. SHAME ON ME. I was gutted. I only did about 26km (16miles for the old people). I WILL get there. I think a large portion of it was psychological. I got so bored!!! Have a look at this picture of me. Stare at it for a minute:

Boring, isn’t it? Well imagine staring at it for 225 minutes. 3 hours 45 minutes of my face. Getting redder and redder. More and more tired. It’s what I have to do because the gym has mirrors in front of all the treadmills. Now do you see why it’s boring? But I got there, through to the end in a comfy 3.45 ish again. Again, heart rates are below for comparison with the week before. Please note that I forgot to turn the timer off on the watch – so I pointed out where I finished! Sorry. You can tally this with the split times – which I took a photo of. you can clearly see that my heart works a lot harder at the end of a run compared with at the start.

 I will publish these for as many runs as possible to see what happens to it over time. Steady finish time of 3.46.24 or thereabouts.

Split 1                                 Split 2

Split 3                                 Split 4 

I actually walked for about the last ten minutes because I was feeling rough. I felt worse when I got outside and walked up to train station. I thought I was going to fall over, so I had a sit down in town and relaxed for a while. I felt better later on, so have recovered quite nicely with only slightly achy legs.

Finally, developments with fundraising and PR. Aside from the telly thing, people are getting in touch to offer their support. I have a telephone meeting (check me!) this week with Oneon about nutritional/supplementary support. I have also heard from an old friend, Matt Haines, who has told me that the haulage company he works for/helps to run is keen to help. So watch this space and in advance – thank you S&J Haulage. I have the tagline already – ‘Like S&J, I’m in it for the long haul’.

I have also been in touch with the guys at the Eastbourne Half Marathon and the Portsmouth Coastal Half Marathon who have offered me free entry to take part (2 laps, of course!) in their races. For that, I am massively grateful. I have run Eastbourne  before and it’s a great run that’s growing. The runners are all really nice and it follows a decent seafront route. The Portsmouth run is a new one for me, but the guy who runs it is an avid runner and the feedback I’ve read from previous years is very positive. They also do other runs throughout the year – so keep an eye here if you're in the south and running is your bag! 

Next time - physiological changes, my weight and talk of suicide - not mine, don't worry! Bad stuff can inspire!!!

Remember, if you've enjoyed this, why not give me a couple of quid. Well, charity...

www.justgiving.com/52marathons

A couple of lovely people have pledged a pound every time I do a marathon. It doesn't sound much if it's done that way! Whatever you can afford.

follow me on Twitter @52marathonman

like me on Facebook (remember to press the like button)

So, only 50 to go. I successfully completed the second marathon of the year yesterday.

There's not yet a lot to talk about. I think things will get interesting in the weeks and months to come. Essentially, this is a marathon of marathons and at the minute, I'm at the start bit with the excitement and comfort and energy. Later will come the slog of the mid-miles where monotony kicks in, followed by the mental and physical agony of hitting the wall and then the success of finishing.

Strangely, I didn't hit the wall yesterday. It was some sort of paradoxical run where I was very mentally taxed but physically I felt generally fine. As I've said before, I love the idea that running causes a great deal of pain and I can stop that pain at any time but choose not to. It's being in charge of how hard I push myself and my mental toughness to not take the easier option.

Anyway... Enough of the cerebral stuff and down to the basics.

Yesterday's was my first ever marathon on a treadmill. Before this, I hadn't ever run further than 10k on a treadmill. Mainly because it's dull. I mean, it's mind numbing! Essentially it was me staying in one place with my legs going round, looking at myself in a mirror (pretty as I am, i can still get bored of myself) and watching numbers go (slowly) round and round.

I have to say, the people at Riptide Gym are incredibly helpful and supportive. They've sponsored me where the University gym wouldn't, allowed me to use all of their equipment and give me advice and support - all for free.

So up I got at 7.30am to go to the gym. On the treadmill ready to go at 9.15. ON A SATURDAY! There were a couple of small issues... Firstly, treadmill's aren't designed or programmed to run for 26.2 miles at a time (surprised?!?!), so logic had to be used. As far as I could work out, you could only time it in for 60minutes at a time, so this was going to be what I did. Under the agreement (with myself!) that as soon as it finished, I would start again! This is what I did. I have some videos that will be uploaded when Wid adds the module that allows it to the website.

So the first 60 minutes was steady if not a little tiring as the muscle aches from last week came back quite soon. I did 11.95km. That then finished and I started doing the next hour's stint. As I came to the end of that hour, I pressed a button and it allowed me to continue. So I did - up to 90 minutes as there were only enough spaces on the screen to go up to 99 minutes and I didnt want to start working at fractions of hours. Anyway... after 2 and a half hours I run at an average of nearly 12km/h and completed 11.95km in hour 1 and 17.92km in the second hour and a half. 2.5 hours - 29.87km done and 'only' 12.33km to go.

I ended up doing that final 12.33km in 67minutes 20 seconds. So a total for the full 42.2km was 3hours 37minutes and 20 seconds. Add in a bit of time for those changeovers (I wouldn't want anyone to think i was trying to steal a few seconds!) and I reckon it was still under 3 hours 40. Which was essentially the second fastest marathon I have ever run!

You know what could have been easier, of course? Instead of adding up all the distance and that sort of thing, I could just programme it to do four equal runs of 10.5km!!! What a numpty. But then did the constant maths in my head take my mind off the running? Probably not, but I'm in an uncertain mind as to whether I should change it or not.

That's it for now. Next week, look out for my chat about putting too much salt in my water, the great audition for a new TV show with some of the Passingiton guys and how I secretly hope my wee is dead orange when I finally finish running!

Remember, I wouldn't be doing this if a) I were not mad, b) I was not running for two really important charities and c) I didn't secretly want an MBE in the future for my endeavours in my life. Please follow me on twitter - @52marathonman or 'like me on Facebook

Remember too, there is lots more information available on my website www.52marathons.co.uk 

For now - thanks for reading!

New year, new challenge.

Hi everyone. So this is the first blog of the new year and with it comes a new challenge. This year I’ve charged myself with the task of completing 52 sub-4 hour marathons.

Last year I ran a few marathons/ultramarathons and it turned out to be a hell of a challenge. I laughed, cried, bled, wee’d myself, enjoyed it, hated it, fel over, stood in numerous dog shits and generally had a whale of a time. It was a hell of an achievement and one of the things I enjoyed most was blogging about it. So I will be doing it again this year!

So why do something else? Why not have some time off and do something else? It’s the mental challenge, I think. I read a book earlier this year my Mike Stroud that suggested that once the intense pain of an event is over, we are quick to forget it and can’t fathom just how much it hurt until we do it again. Apparently it’s why women are eager to give birth again after their first. That, and some sort of bond that adults and children allegedly develop throughout the years…

There is of course the obligatory charity challenge. I wouldn’t bother if it was just for myself. I want motivation beyond my own ego, and hopefully people will benefit from it in the form of money, promotion and raised awareness.

So this year they are:

• Passingiton www.passingiton.org.uk
• Rethink – Survivors of Suicide www.rethink.org

I have to have the obligatory suicide charity in there – and this one is local to Brighton. I don’t think I would be motivated enough if dad hadn’t have topped himself – something good has to come of it. BUT, there’s plenty of time in the next year to discuss the ins and outs of the effects of suicide.

Passingiton is an amazing Brighton based charity. Run by two cracking blokes, James and Matt, with the help of lots of great well wishers, they have gone from running the Dublin Marathon dressed as Batman and Robin to staging a World Record breaking Heroes run on Brighton seafront each year. www.heroesrun.org.uk for more information. Further to this, James is acting as my PR machine. For this, I’m eternally grateful!

So here goes – tomorrow is New Years Day and already we’ve hit a snag. We’re unable to make the Brooks Serpentine 10km, so I’m playing cat and mouse with James instead. Here’s the deal –

I am running setting off from Shoreham train station at 1.30pm. James will leave Brighton at the same time. We will both head to Newhaven swing bridge and back, finishing within 4 hours. Question is, will I catch him before he gets there? Doubtful if you ask me – I’ve done naff all, all Christmas!

Finally, a huge thank you for reading this – please keep checking back. The website is very important and will be updated as much as possible. There will be many more insights into how it’s all going and hopefully some great tales of support. I’ve already had people get in touch with their best wishes. I always want to hear from people. You can get me at kev@52marathons.co.uk

Thanks a lot

Kev

www.52marathons.co.uk

Please ‘like’ me on Facebook by clicking here

So... I did it! I have completed three marathons in three days. Not only three marathons, but technically three ultramarathons, as all of them were over the regulation 26.2 miles.

I've written in my blog a lot of times about my training, preparation and the challenges I've faced. I didn't know what to expect from it, and found out that I'm much stronger than I ever thought I could be. Now, a couple of warnings here... 1) I think this will be pretty long and 2) it'll be full of cliches.

I'll go into the details of the run in a while, but will get the results etc out of the way first of all. I completed all three marathons in under 15 hours - 14hours 59minuntes and 39seconds. 14:59:39!!!

Run 1: 26.2miles, 4:58:22 (20th place)

Run 2: 28miles, 4:45:54 (14th place)

Run 3: 27.5miles, 5:15:40 (11th place)

Unbelievably, I came in 12th place overall. Out of 270ish starters, I came 12th!!! Only 180ish finished the whole thing. If you want to see the entire lot of results (and see I'm not lying!), you can: http://is.gd/bd2LM

And so, the event itself... Well I couldn't have imagined what it would be like, how hard it would be and what sort of issues I would face. Although I scored a mini victory in that I didn't tread in a single dog shit, I couldn't avoid many other problems. I started marathon 1 in good spirits, but weather faded and I soon found myself in solitude. I always seem to get into a place like that - in front of me are the best runners, the guys who are built for running and train like dogs. Behind me are everyone else - I seem to be somewhere in between. I realised at six miles that I was in for a hell of a slog, but stayed in good spirits, not expecting anything but a finish. I've run a marathon before, I've trained quite a lot so I plodded along. The hills were incredible and can be seen on the link at the bottom of the page, along with the videos I took. Some of them make interesting viewing, if not only for the spectacular views and bits of dribble coming from my mouth!

Because the weather was terrible, the terrain was really bad, too. I'm not exaggerating when I say we were ankle deep in mud and water. My feet soon blistered and the tracks were strewn with brambles and sharp plants - I cut my arm and ripped the inside of my tights. An inch higher, and I'd have ripped a lot more - which is the answer to why some runners wear shorts over the top of their tights - not because they've got stuff to hide, but they can predict sharp baby maker damaging brambles approaching! I finished the marathon in a much better than expected 20th place and felt quite well, in general. I thought I hit the wall at mile 20 - turns out that was a false alarm. I hobbled a little after the run, but ate a lot, relaxed and looked forward to day two.

So Day 2 came around and I woke up still feeling quite physically fresh, but feeling mentally distressed. I struggled to motivate myself and started to question myself. Had I started too fast and would I be able to continue at the pace I did? Although I entered this race with no expectations, coming 20th on day one made me have targets - I couldn't lose face and go down the pecking order and so I doubted myself massively and worried about continuing. But I started. And with rotten guts. I worked out whilst trying to occupy my mind that I was burning about 5,000-6,000 calories a day. It meant consuming a lot of sugar and a lot of anything else I could lay my hand on.

I managed to get motivated after a couple of hours and can vividly remember the point at which my body started to work for me. Because I was struggling in my head, my legs and my heart and my lungs relaxed and I continued at a reasonable pace. I ran for long periods and that's where I started doing my sums, thinking of random things and wiling away the time. If you're reading this now, sit down and look at your watch. Watch the second hand go around for a minute and don't move. It's a long time - so imagine doing that 286 times, but hitting your leg every second - it's a long time to be party to that much pain and solitude. Believe me, you wouldn't want to be left alone for that amount of time with my mind to occupy you!

So I reached a happy place physically and my mind was occupied with two thing - I don't know why, but one was a repeated call of 'Terra Firma, Terra Firma' (A song by a band whose name escapes me) and the word monosyllabic. And then disaster strikes - I met up with a group of other runners and we got lost. I ran an extra mile around a quarry and lost about 15 minutes in total. I was gutted and got really demoralised. It was horrible to think that I had wasted that much time and it's then that I started to struggle. Properly struggle, that is - like I hadn't witnessed before when physically exercising. I soon zoned out from the other people I was with and concentrated on why I was doing this run. We were told from the outset that spirit in the event would always be good and runners could always support each other. So I was very surprised when I was running ahead of about 4 people, who I then caught out of the corner of my eye taking a short cut. People were straying from the course and cutting out chunks (this one was about a mile). I was initially annoyed about this, but had plenty of time to mull the situation over. I realised that this was ultimately a challenge and neither myself nor these guys would win the event. So cliché time, but who were they really cheating? Surely it was themselves, because they will go home and tell everyone they did it, they ran three (ultra)marathons in three days and they didn’t. Shame on them. It also gave me a brilliant target, because I was determined to beat these numpties on day two. And I did – well three of them anyway.

I got back to the caravan park after day two feeling lifted albeit with a left knee that was giving me some serious issues. I rested up, tried to relieve the swelling in my knee and ate a shed load more.

We lost an hour’s sleep that night, but to be honest, I didn’t notice it. I was so exhausted that I slept right through and woke up early with an icky tummy (again). I was massively buoyed though, because my sister called to say she, her fiancé and my niece and nephew were driving all the way down from Melton Mowbray to watch the race.

Now, the weather was variable to say the least on the final day. It started raining hard, followed by high winds on the journey to the start.

I got to the start, and met my sister and co, and then looked around to see my Mum had also come with them. Almost enough to tip a fatigued man over the edge, but I held it together. The start was delayed because someone needed an emergency poo, and who were we to hold the poor guy up? It could have been a disaster for him! He got a massive cheer from everyone as he ran towards the crowd of starters for the delayed bang of the gun. Do you remember Linford Christie saying he always started a race on the ‘B’ of the bang?! Well I started the race a little after the ‘G’ of the bang. As did most of the other racers, who hobbled, limped, shuffled and struggled to get their muscles working. It was like trying to start a car in the dead of winter!

We got going and my paparazzi family snapped away as we left.

As I started running on the final day, I was reasonably close to the front and running with a few guys. We had different tactics. One guy ran the whole thing – slowly, but ran everything – including the hills. Another was a quicker jogger who plodded along. And I was the guy who got to the top of the hills slowly and then on the way down the other side I lengthened my stride, leant forward and hoped to God that I wouldn’t hurt too much if I fell over. I was like a speeding cannonball going down those hills. The other two would then catch me on the other side and the cycle continued.

We climbed a lot more than before on the third day, and that’s saying something. At one point, we actually climbed into some low clouds. Visibility became low and the pressure was on to find our way around correctly. The scenery, when I could see it was special, though. It was amazing!

Coming to the first checkpoint my knee was playing up and I really had to concentrate to ignore the pain. I couldn’t ‘float away’ into a trance like I had before. It seems that every downhill was taking its toll and was sending a thundering pain through my legs with every step.

At checkpoint 1 I asked around for painkillers and was given some (not really ideal) ibuprofen by the nice guy next to me. I then saw my sister and ran over to them all. They had taken the trouble to make me a brilliant sign and cheered me on when I left them. I welled up but still manned up and not a tear passed my eye. Mainly because I was getting dehydrated. Stupidly, in the excitement of seeing them, I forgot to get my Camelbak (other hydration systems are available) filled up. Big mistake and schoolboy error. The next six miles were spent sans water. And I felt it. I was desperate for some of the wet stuff and had to ask some passers by if they had any. They were very sweet and let me have some. Thank God they were there!

By now my mind was firmly on the pain in my knee. I got to the top of a hill and was really upset by what I saw (see video below). There were hundreds of steps – down the hill and then up the other side. Every step was taking with an ‘F’ word and my knee almost buckled. To make it worse, I was going hazy in the head and had an awful headache. I was getting *really* dehydrated now.

But… I looked forward to half way, which was only a mile away. And my family were there. I rang my sister and asked her to pick up some paracetamol on the way to the checkpoint. As I reached the brow of the final hill in that stage, all I could see was my sister waving madly at me. I filled myself with far too much paracetamol, ate a couple of sweets from the truck and went to give my nephew a quick cuddle. He turned his head and looked sad. He then said “he smells” and walked away. Ouch! That pain was akin to the one in my knee. The boy had a point, though. I was wearing the same tights from day 1, as well as the same over vest. I could almost taste myself.

Anyway, this time I filled my water, ate a sandwich and ran on…

Into the worst personal turmoil I’ve been through in a long time. I hit the wall at about mile 15. I knew the end of the race was coming, and the pain in my knees was going because of the drugs. But I had to challenge myself to get to small goals ahead of me. I had to actually talk out loud to gee myself up and I remember seeing a massive hill ahead of me. I fought with myself to take it on and then went a bit crazy. I took over a couple of guys at the bottom and took the hardest but shortest route. I sprinted it. I had more explosive power in my muscles than stored long term energy, and it spurred me on. I head one of the guys behind me say “f... me, look at him go”. What he didn’t know was that when I got to the top, I was sapped but satisfied. I plodded on to checkpoint 3.

I didn’t spend much time at CP3. Enough time to see my mum get a bit upset because she said I didn’t look well. I didn’t feel it, but there was no way I wasn’t going to complete it. Also pleasing was that they had big Haribo snakes at that checkpoint. That spurred me on...

For the best part of ten minutes. 6 miles to go and I was really really struggling. I walked for about 5 minutes – the longest period of time I had walked continuously. I was on a really tight cliff path and started to get upset. I had filled my water at CP3, but made the fatal error of putting in too much concentrated electrolyte in with it. Essentially, I had created a sack of sea water. It was way too salty and was dehydrating me further. It was a disaster and added to my already blurred vision and lack of coordination. I’m not exaggerating when I say I was unsteady on my feet and found it hard to concentrate. I was starting to twist my ankles regularly and fell over a couple of times. I was struggling in my consciousness and didn’t realise until it was too late that I had wee’d myself a little. That’s not easy to admit, but hell, this has always been frank. I was losing my faculties. I also cried. Only a little at first, but then a lot. Let me explain. I have always adored my family and have ALWAYS been spurred on by them. They have encouraged me and supported what I have done. My brother sent me a text and said two really important things. One was that my dad would be incredibly proud and to remember I am doing this for him. That set me off. Because I wouldn't have taken this on without good reason, and a charity like Survivors of Bereavement by Suicide is just that. I don't just want to raise money, but awareness of the issued surrounding suicide, too. The other, and the one that really made me cry, was he finished the test with “you’re my idol, bro. I’m really proud of you”. I was his idol! I couldn’t not finish. My brother won't admit it, but he's a caring sole and would give anything for any of us. And so with tears in my eyes, I started to run. And I’ll tell you what, I didn’t stop until I reached the finish. That is the God’s honest truth. I ran for about 4 straight miles. Over all terrain and caught a lot of people.

And so to the finish. With 400 meters to go I was in my element. All of my pain had gone and I was running quickly. Well it felt quick, anyway. I sprinted over the finish line to lots of cheers and that was it. I had done it.

I collapsed and on hands and knees revelled in my victory. When I steadied myself, I found a quie(er) area and retched. I was sick, my head was raging and I was massively dehydrated. So where better to be than in my Mum’s arms? I got a massive cuddle and congratulations and I tried to hold myself together. Photos, trophy and off the family went back to Melton and off to the holiday park I went.

I didn’t realise quite how bad a state I was in until I got back in the caravan and passed out for about 15 minutes. I was conscious (kind of) but just laid there for that quarter of an hour in a real haze. I couldn’t see well and breathed in a laboured way. Eventually though, I got in the shower and basked. I could be clean again! I did a wee (I know, it was in the shower but I didn’t care) and it was bright red. I had sufficiently damaged my kidneys and was pissing a lot of the red stuff. It was thick and clotted. Note to self – keep an eye on that.

So that’s that. That was the end of the adventure. I had to drive home that night, which was interesting, and got into bed and slept badly.

Apart from the story of the weekend, there is a lot that has gone on during the runs. I haven’t spoken of the huge support my friends offered as ‘I Facebook’d’ pictures and comments on my way round. They helped massively.

And the input of my fiance Amy, was huge. She constantly encouraged me, supported me and put up with me. Not just through the weekend, but throughout all my training. I pretty much neglected her throughout my training. To her, a massive thank you. I truely couldn’t have done it without her. She understands that I need to put myself through these things. And it is a need and I know she will never stop me doing it.   

I’m sorry this hasn’t been as comical as past blogs. The weekend wasn’t that humorous. It was bloody hard. Laughs were had, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t remember many of them, because I was usually in too much pain.

It’s been a long winded insight into my adventure. And the adventure isn’t over. I still have a good few marathons to do this year, and although I’ve got to the peak of the challenges, as discussed, the downhill parts aren’t always the easiest.

If you haven’t sponsored me and would like to, please feel free:

www.justgiving.com/kevin-betts

www.justgiving.com/kevin-betts2

I also videoed parts of the run. For a real insight into the run, and for a good couple of laughs, see here:

http://is.gd/bd2LP

Many thanks

Kev