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