The very last run

Day 366 Monday 31st December 3 miles : miles to date 2500 Well folks, the final run is done, the stats are in and the final results from 2012 are below. Before I get there, I have to sat thank you straight away to all of my friends for such a wonderful last run. There were so many e-mails beforehand saying well done but we can't make it for one reason or another, that I wasn't surprised when we arrived at the off and there were just seven of us to go. I really wasn't expecting many more. I now know there was an orchestrated campaign run by a certain David Cook to make me think everyone was away. It worked. I even fell for Ady's excuse that he was an elf helping at Santa's grotto. Dooohhhh. Four hundred metres down the road, it was a massive and totally unexpected surprise to be joined by thirty five other runners. I didn't have a clue and it made today for me, very special indeed. Thank you to each and every person that came out. An extra hugggeee thank you to Satnav and Sherpa Sue for allowing their home to be swamped by so many wet, thirsty and hungry runners, all of whom left with a smile on their face. The food, beverages and hospitality were hugely generous. I also have to thank Chairman Jeremy Bell for his very kind words after and the present, which was a DIY cardboard toilet called the "Shitbox". Charming but very apt. George Arbuckles and Philip Horans inscribed toilet paper was an absolute gem and Rebecca Fleckney ''The Book of Poo - A Spotters Guide" was just hysterical. Who writes a book about No2 ing? Damn, missed my call. Last but certainly not least was a fab 2012 running man that already has pride of place in the kitchen from the committee. Thank you all. So, to the stats;- 1. No of runs - 369 2. No of miles - 2500 3. No of calories burnt - 289,925 4. No of hours running - 393hrs:24mins:5secs 5. No of No2 posts - too many to count 6. No of PB's in 2012 - 8 7. Highest Team Finish - 1st Men's team Chester Marathon 8. Highest solo finish - 3rd Bedford Clanger Ultra 9. Average weight loss - 2 stone 2 pounds 10. No of beers drunk - see number 5 above 11. New PB's in 2012;- -Bedford Clanger ultra 04:23:00 (previous PB 04:52:00) -Chester Marathon 03:04:13 (previous PB 03:25:24 also in 2012) -Twenty mile 02:51:34 (previous PB 02:59:59) -Half marathon 01:27:41 (previous PB 01:40:41) -10k 39:59 (previous PB 44:04) -5 mile 30:35 (no previous race) -5k 19:10 (previous PB 20:36) 12. Highest mileage month - December 270.9 13. Highest mileage week 101 - in the last week!!! 14. Average weekly mileage - 48.07 15. Lowest mileage month - 152.2 June 16. Most calories burnt one month - 29,541 December 17. No of running shoes used - 5 18. No of mates run with - see 5 and 10 above It has been an amazing running year. I have had so many great experiences, run with so many friends and achieved more this year than in all of my last eight years of running, that it is just impossible to pick one highlight or one person alone to praise. To try to do that, would be unkind to the many, many people and friends out there who have helped me along the way. All those runs we did, those comments at training or on facebook, the pressing of the like button to my often inane ramblings, the amazing interest and support my friends have shown for the entire year, the good humoured mickey taking and the often needed kick up the backside, all of it helped more than you will ever know. So, all I can do is say thank you to each and every person out there who has been kind enough to show me any interest and support. The final word's have to be dedicated to Fi, Megan and James who have had to put up with my mad challenge all year. There have been many times when family life has been disrupted through my needing to get a run in at all sorts of silly hours and at odd times. They have all put up with my year long obsession and without their help, support and encouragement I would never have made this streak. Fi has not only put up with me, but has actively encouraged to make it, ofetn putting on her own daps and coming out of the door in all sorts of weather conditions. So, in a rare show of public emotion (I am British after all and a bloke), I love you all very much and thank you from the bottom of my heart. Which is still 42 bpm. Oppssss back to me!

The penultimate one

Day 365 Sunday 30th December 3.1 miles : miles to date 2497

Tonight's run was down to one thing and one thing only. How many miles to 2500. Luckily for me, HW worked out a couple of miles longer than planned so I was left with a 3.1 mile tonight to leave me with a spot on three miler to finish on day 366. My legs and mind are tired, so it was nothing more than a very grumpy trudge around the ever so clean and mud free streets of the village. Something of a contrast to the last three days. I might just get there you know?

Hadrians Wall run Day's 1-3

Day 362 Thursday 27th December 31.1 miles : miles to date 2437.9

AKA: HWD1 - The Blood, Sweat and Beers Ultra Boys Tour 

 Like all daft idea's, it was a good one at the time. Why not run all of Hadrian's Wall between festivities was the question? A multitude of very good reasons could spill forth, not least leaving the family to run through mile upon mile of deep mud, water, cow droppings and all manner of farm debris.

 As the alarm went off early doors, the rain was hammering against the window and I had to gently persuade Fi to drop me at the metro. Three hours later, Satnav and Mrs. Satnav collected me from the station having left Beddiesford land at 5:30am. We then carried on for another forty minutes until we reached the desloate coastline of Bowness on Solway. With Ireland behind us, Scotland on our left and England on our right, we ran back the way we had come before the tide came in and swamped the area.In true Roman road fashion, we ran along a windy, open and straight as an arrow stretch for three miles, before finding Sherpa Sue Jones who waited at various points all day with supplies. 

 There were very few houses and not a single shop for the entire route. Even when we wound along the river skirting Carlisle, there was nothing but trail and mud. Lots and lots of mud. We found our first field of the brown stuff early on and soon realised we were going to spend the entire day totally caked in the stuff. I have no idea how many field's we went through for mile upon mile we sank into the stuff at least up to our ankles, if not halfway up the shins. As a result, it was very slow going for almost the entire section. It is difficult convery just how muddy sapping this route was, although on the plus side it was very well sign posted for the entire run. 

We collected Sue at the 18 mile point, having waded through a field flooded by an adjacent river. The next section was relatively fine. At the 24 mile point the tables turned again. By now we were in the dark and finding it difficult to find our way out of the fields, simply due to the fact that we could not see the exits until we were virtually standing next to them. We slowed a huge amount and the cold, wetness and six hours of sodden feet beagn to take their toll. After another three miles of very deep mud, we decided to step off the trail and run an extra mile or two around to the b&b on the road. Despite the extra distance it was the wise move we eventually made it the pit stop after a long, arduous day on the trails. 

 Satnav was as always Satnav. If it hurts, run more is his mantra which came out today. Sue had a very interesting to self navigating long distance trails and to be fair, the last two hours in the dark were hard and demoralising. Still, a quick shower and nip down to the pub for a rather large steak and several pints of Welsh wine should hopefully set us up for day two. After a full English breakfast of course. 

 Pasta? Bar humbug.

Day 363 Friday 28th December 25.5 miles : miles to date 2463.4

AKA: HWD2 - The Mud, Sweat and Beers Ultra Boys Tour

 I awoke early doors in my warm, comfortable and wind free b&b on top of an exposed hillside looking over the Irthing valley not wanting to leave. It was a struggle to make it downstairs for the full English, but having done so I perked up and felt almost ready for the off. The idea of starting at a high point in a wind and rain swept isolated village was actually worse than starting itself. As soon as we were outside we realised it wasn't that bad and we were at the top of the contours, so it was a flatish start. I always say I prefer a bottom in front of me rather than a frontal lobotomy and I knew early on that I would be following the main man's buttocks for a long way which I did. 

 Within a mile we found our first Roman ruin at Banks Turret and spent a little time being tourists. We carried on slowly as Satnav's knee was playing up. The terrain had changed almost overnight. Where as we had spent the first day at a low level, with lot's of farms and very deep and filthy quagmires to try to wade through, with a bit of higher ground the cows made way for sheep and their much smaller feet made my trying to keep my very go slow daps on my feet a little easier, but not much. I still managed to fall in a Tom and Jerry way at around the three mile point as we came down one very slippy hill, landing very hard on my back with my legs in the air. Luckily the ground was very soft and muddy as it was all the way.

 The first real big tourist stop was a Roman fort at Birdoswald which had picnic benches outside and no one anywhere to be seen in every single direction. In fact, in the first two days we came across a total of one walker in 56 odd miles. This section was relatively fine, in the sense that every step was in water or mud, but at least we weren't fighting to keep the shoes on. For quite a few miles, we then battled with sheep, wind, mud and isolation. We slowed badly after that and were very glad to meet Sherpa Sue at an old quarry for a pep talk and sarnie. It had taken us over three hours to reach just over eleven miles. It turned out that this was the easy section.

 We then began to climb crag after crag after crag. There simply was not a sole to be seen for miles as we did clambered up one very big hill after another. The climbs were very steep, slippery, muddy and constantly an ankle turning or leg breaking worry. It was impossible to run up or down all of them. The descents were more difficult than the climbs. It was difficult to even walk them, but the panoramic views at the top were breath taking and worth every second of discomfort to get there. At the top of the highest it was hard to stand still it was so windy, but it was utterly fantastic to me there, especially with my very good mate and guide.

 It was blooming hard work and despite the ultra boy's fitness and sheer bloody mindness, we knew after some hours of the terrain and with light fading badly, we were in danger of serious injury as the light went and the crags continued to punish us. We still had some miles to go and made the decision to go down and wade through marshland where I doubt a single person has walked in twenty years.  We somehow managed to make the main Roman Road and as the light went, we had no real choice other than to miss the last few crags. Eventually we would have gone through the main outstanding Roman fort at Housesteads. Instead we dodged cars on a very narrow country road for some miles, before reclaiming the trail in the dark. By this point, my trench foot had begun to heal and the total immersion back into the goo had my tootsie's almost in tears.

 We struggled back in the dark oscillating between road and HW trail all the way down to the finish point at Cholleford. Both of us are not that far off three hour marathon boy's (ok old blokes), but it took us over seven hours to finish less than a marathon, but this was three times as hard. And ten times better. The views, the country, the experience, the fact that there was just the two of us, the isolation and the sheer majesty of this part of the UK made every painful step worthwhile. Standing at the top of Hadrians's turret's and forts quite literally looking over the same view that a Roman centurion would have looked at in AD 122 plus was spine tingling. 

Even so, it was great to finish a long, hard and difficult day. Sherpa Sue did an awesome job in supporting us at various stages and me and Satnav were very grateful. At the end, Fi was an angel in a Volvo descending down the road to collect us, before whisking us back to the outlaws small, but very warm, cosy and food fueled house on the North Tyne to a fabulous home cooked meal, a couple of bottles of wine and a short, but very nice trip to the local pub. Which was called the Grey Bull, which was next to the Black Bull. Say's it all really.

Day 364 Saturday 29th December 30.5 miles : miles to date 2493.9

AKA: HWD3 - The Mud, Sweat and Beers Ultra Boys Tour

Roman Wall Blues by W.H.Auden

Over the heather the wet wind blows,I've lice in my tunic and a cold in my nose.

The rain comes pattering out of the sky,I'm a Wall soldier, I don't know why.

The mist creeps over the hard grey stone,My girl's in Tungria; I sleep alone.

Aulus goes hanging around her place,I don't like his manners, I don't like his face.

Piso's a Christian, he worships a fish;There'd be no kissing if he had his wish.

She gave me a ring but I diced it away;I want my girl and I want my pay.

When I'm a veteran with only one eye, I shall do nothing but look at the sky.

 Having done such a sterling job, Shepra Sue was promoted to the starting grid with Fetcher Fi coming in to cover the essential support crew role. We headed back to the exact point we had finished last night at Chollerford next to a bridge crossing the North Tyne. We then proceeded to climb for two consecutive miles, with the feet soon becoming wet and muddy. The wall route from Chollerford almost exclusively follows the Roman Road and is very well sign posted. This made navigating very simple and once we were at the top, the route for longish sections was on relatively firm ground, although inevitably it dipped into the brown stuff with every undulation. There were Turret's after Turret's and as always, the panoramic views across Northumberland were stunning. 

 In this section in particular the Vallum was very obvious for many miles. It is a huge earthwork unique to Roman frontiers and runs from coast to coast on the south of the wall. The Vallum comprises a ditch, nominally 6 metres wide and 3 metres deep, with a flat bottom, flanked by two mounds about 6 metres wide and 2 metres high, set back some 9 metres  from the ditch edges. For a great deal of its length a third lower mound, the so-called marginal mound occupies the south berm (flat area between mound and ditch), right on the southern lip of the ditch. The total width of the fortification (consisting, from north to south, of mound, berm, ditch, marginal mound, berm, mound) was around 36 metres. The distance of the Vallum from the Wall varies. In general there was a preference for the earthwork to run close to the south of the Wall where the land allowed. In the central section we ran yesterday,  the Wall ran along the top of the many crags while the Vallum lay in the valley below so far away we couldn't see it.

 The route was still quite and isolated even though we were only fourteen miles from Newcastle. We came across two walkers and within a few miles, two runners who were local and dressed for a short run (probably fifteen or so miles). Despite the weather forecast, we were extremely lucky with the rain in that all we experienced in three days was drizzle every so often with the wind being the main element to contend with. Even that was South Easterly and mainly from behind. After ten miles, Sherpa Sue was picked up by Fetcher Fi and normal ultra boy's service was resumed. Mind you, it was a lot better following Sue's derriere than Satnav's.

 The route was by far the easiest to follow in the whole three days, although for the next five miles we did run through a few very wet and muddy sections. The girls met us an hour or so down the road and were a very welcome sight indeed. We were both starting to struggle a little and needed to see them and grab a sarnie. We then headed over to the first main village that had any shops or pub's open in the sixty five odd miles we had covered by then. We didn't know what to do with the bright lights and carried on as quickly as we could to join the Tyne, which we then followed for the last nine miles or so. Approximately four miles from the finish we ran into Newcastle Quayside which looked magnificent in the light rain and darkness. We ran under a number of bridges crossing the river, until we reached the main night life area. On the left we had pubs, clubs and lots of places to eat and on the other was the Sage and the huge converted Baltic Arts centre. This would have been a lovely place to stop, especially when we found the girls waiting for us in the dark under one of the bridges. 

 Wallsend was still another four miles further on and this was probably the ugliest part of the route. As we ran away from the town, the area became rougher, more rundown and for the last two miles with no street lights at all. Fi and Sue continued to be hugely supportive and were waiting for us at the end. The actual HW monument was tucked away in a closed museum  so that was a bit of an anti climax, but the warm car wasn't. 

 There was no way that we could have done this run without the help and support of Sue and Fi, so a huge thank you is needed form us both. I know just how much Satnav benefited from Sue being there and I felt exactly the same way about Fi. Their help, support and tolerance were very much appreciated.     

The Boxing day bounce

Day 361 Wednesday 26th December 3.5 miles : miles to date 2406.8 Oh dear. Having eaten the equivalent of a small horse in the last few days, my bulging belly erupted over the top of my shiny new day glow Hilly tights today like Vesuvius eschewing molten lava down its side. The Weeble's wobble but they don't fall down advert from the 70's perfectly describes my current physique. I was a tiny bit puffy as I strode forth on yet another new route along the coast at North Shields, just over the water from the finish of the GNR at South Shields. The area was quite busy with a number of runners and walkers, even down on the sands in the darkness. I was enjoying my meander so much, I forgot to stop at 1.5 miles and turn back, as this is a taper day before HW Day 1 on the morrow. I didn't even rise to the challenge of two runners coming towards me who clearly were fast and fit. I have re-adopted my trade mark ultra marathon shuffle, which Richard Jones and I have honed to perfection over the years. Very little arm movement or knee lift and feet taken off the ground only so far as to allow us to shuffle along in the most energy conserving way possible. It was in complete contrast to the one bloke, who was bouncing so high off the ground with each stride, he looked like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh. I thought he was going to shout ''Hello buddy boy! T-I-double guh-err; that spells Tiggerrrrr'' at one point. Hi there Tigger, I'm Pablo the No2 would have been the response if he had. Oh, that reminds me, extra loo roll needed in my back pack HWD1.

Christmas Day

Day 360 Tuesday 25th December 3.3 miles : miles to date 2403.3 Happy Christmas first and foremost to one and all. For some weeks, I have been a little worried about running on Christmas day. In days of yore, I would have scoffed at obsessed fitness fanatics on this day of all days, thinking you must be barking. Despite this streaking challenge, I honestly don't think of myself as a fitness fanatic and I'm not. I run a lot, but that is due to the pleasure it brings and to stack the cards against me popping my clogs too early. Both my brother and pa were my height, in the 20 stone plus category and went to meet their maker in their 53rd year. That's one family streak I'm hoping to miss. So, today was like any other in running terms. On went the go medium daps, the back pack (for carrying my trackies) and off I headed for an urban trundle with the aim of meeting the outlaws and Fi not much later at a pub, where my bro-in-outlaw is the newly installed head honcho. As I sheepishly strode fourth, the run just took over and the thoughts of the day were lost as I gingerly wound my way through the debris of the night before. I soon found myself glad to be running before the festivities take over and I can hardly move off the couch. It was cold, northern, grey, no snow and I was in my shorts running a medium tempo on Chrimbo day. Glorious. The prezzie's had emerged early doors. To go with my Ron Hill jacket with splash of orange, Santa delivered matching bright orange gloves, orange hat and orange tinted running tights. My super new head torch, fresh fogger deodorant, jar of jelly babies and book called ''Once A Runner'' rounded off the wonderful clutch of running related presents. I cant wait to try them out in two days in the middle of nowhere in the dark.

Go go go go go go.......

Day 359 Monday 24th December 5.7 miles : miles to date 2400

There must be something about the North East, as the legs were on fire tonight as they were last time I was here. Having driven hours to get to the outlaws, I left without even having a Christmas Eve sniffler with the sole intention of getting to 5.7 miles to bring up 2400 miles for the year so far.
 The long play was stuck on a Now Music mix, but as luck would have it the first little ditty was " Gonna Fly Now '' from one of the best films ever, Rocky. Something just clicked and bang, I was flying like Pegasus himself. I was in a very built up urban area and I constantly had to stop for traffic, dodge the staggering beer hounds on the way to the kebab shop for a spot of dinner and scoot around discarded odds and sod's at some speed. It was almost like an urban adventure race. After three miles, I suddenly recalled that in three days time I am about to run possibly three ultras on consecutive days and Pegasus won't be around to give me a lift home if I blow up. The brakes went on, the long play flipped to easy listening songs and I dropped down several gears.
 I don't know about my Mojo, but I certainly found my Rojo tonight (Running One's Jacksie Off) and I reminded myself that the Voldemort plan part two, will kick in at the start of next year. Fi is looking forward to this streak stopping. I don't intend to run every day next year. Just six days a week. She's a lucky girl.

urrggghhhhhhhh......again.....

Day 358 Sunday 23rd December 5.9 miles : miles to date 2394.3 Without realising it, I dressed for tonight's run in homage to one of the longest streakers I know of, the great Ron Hill. The only thing missing from the ensemble were my daps, which have been the same make and model for the last six years. I met Ron once, before my first ever marathon and didn't quite realise at the time that one of us was in the presence of greatness. Not to worry Ron, I'll send you an autograph. As for the run, uuurrgghhhhhh. Luckily I haven't had many tough one's, but three day's of very non-athletic munching and imbibing of too many brewski's meant I felt tired, lethargic and about ten years older than I am. There are only nine days to go and roughly 112 miles to cover. I trudged around my local 6 odd mile route, put the long play on and zoned out. It was slow, uninspired and nothing more than junk miles. I felt so out of sorts after the run, I didn't even have the greatest invention known to man, a cold beer in the shower. Shocking I know, but true.

Two for the price of one

Day 356 Friday 21st December 3.9 miles : miles to date 2384

As today is the end of the world, I thought it best to get my brief running sojourn in at lunchtime, in case the roads were busy later, what with the world exlpoding. I kept it easy and light, banging in a nonchalant peramble around the mean streerts of tinsel town Berko.

Those predicting a sudden apocalypse must have been disappointed early doors, as the morning devleped like any other. Ceremonial fires burned as the sun rose over the steps of the main pyramid at the Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza today, reaching what many believe is the conclusion of a 5,125-year cycle in the Mayan calendar. Thats almost as long as this running streak, or at least it feels like it at times.

The end of the calender has been interpreted as the prophetic moment the world ends. The peeps gathered in the Mayan city must have been well cheesed off that they didn't perish in an all consuming fireball. I suspect they also only bought a one way ticket to get there, so the taxi services must be doing a roaring trade.That having been said, I'm off out tonight for a Mexican meal with the Born Agains, so I suspect I will awake on the morrow feeling like the world has indeed come to an end.

Day 357 Saturday 22nd December 4.4 miles : miles to date 2388.4

Tis the season to get trollied, la la al la la, le la la la and boy I did last night. As predicted, the world didn't come to an end although I feel like it has following a night with the Born Agains.  I did the usual stuff when trollied. Burn quite a lot of my chest hair with a lighter, pebble dash the garden, lay on the patio floor in my t-shirt in the early cold hours and, er, go for a run.

I can honestly say the one thing I have never done before whilst under the weather in the early hours of the morning, is stick the go slow daps on and run around the village. It was just a bizarre experience, running whilst essentially hammered. It was a case of trying to focus on the road and not fall down, dodge the taxi's and make it home before it got light. I averaged 11.26 per mile, so not quite my normal pace but heck, the run's done for the day and I can now recover at leisure before we got out again. Tonight.

Oh dear, I can feel a repeat performance emerging as we are only going next door. Now I know it's a good thing to hide someone's car keys to stop them driving when trollied, but I can't say I have ever heard of someone hiding six pairs of running shoes?

AAAAAARRGGGGHHHHHH....

Day 355 Thursday 20th December 5.9 miles : miles to date 2380.1 AAAAAARGGGHHHHH. Eleven blooming days to go and Fi is going to make me take a day off. I'll be honest, on balance I just don't want to. Today was the perfect reason why. We spent the day at Harry Potter Studio tour, London. Which was in Watford. London, really? I digress. Having done the Potterphille stuff, we braved the M1 at rush hour and arrived home tired and in need of a sit down. Would I have gone out for a run in the dark and rain (eh Philip Horan) if I wasn't on the streak? I am fairly sure the answer would be no. Instead, we arrived home and to take account of the rain, I put my shorts on (eh Phil) and just went straight out. I was going to do maybe three miles and then the legs awoke, the long play kicked in and all of a sudden I was off for a close to six miler and feeling like I could have doubled it. The hardest thing when not on a streak to run, was mostly just starting. Once away, on the whole it slips into place. I had to cut short for the obligatory card game and obviously the standard beer in the shower (if you really haven't tried it yet, you just have to. Once). I did find out that beer and shaving foam don't mix, so stick to the shower. I did try to get Fi to go for a run with me, but there was something in the way she looked at me that said, no way and if you try to get me to go I will actually kill you. I took the hint and did a Billy.

soft lad sleep's in

Day 354 Wednesday 19th December 10.1 miles : miles to date 2374.2 Philip Horan put a shout out earlier on the internet looking for some company. He also wanted someone to run with, so we set up a time for an 8 miler. Forty minutes before the off, the sensitive soft lad, called to say he was pulling out as it was raining (no jokes please). Rain in England in the winter. Who would have thought it? I took pity on the pour soul and told him I wouldn't hold it against him (again no jokes please) and he should tuck himself up in a nice warm, snuggly wuggly blankie. I set off a bit later in, er, the dry from Clophill and proceeded to run through around five villages, keeping it slow and steady in the, er, dry before heading over to soft lad's hood (apologies, young person's speak for urban dwelling area). At around the seven mile mark, I ran past his house. I decided against calling in to make sure he was wrapped up in cotton wool, as it was gone 9pm and I assumed he was tucked up with his teddy. Or wearing his wife's. Being the real man's, man's man that I am, I headed off into the darkness for a few extra miles, finally before forced back through lack of food all day and in need of a beer, having been tempted by running past literally fourteen pubs and numerous take aways on route. I do feel a tad sorry for the wee fella. Having not run, he missed the best reward possible after a ten miler in the dark and,er, dry. A can of Welsh wine of course in the shower (not the same shower, no jokes please). The amber nectar never tastes better than when mixing it in with cold limbs, hot water and steam. I even felt a tad adventurous tonight. I lathered up the barnet with shampoo and enjoyed half a jar with the sud's still in. Rebel, I know.

Numbers

Day 353 Tuesday 18th December 4.8 miles : miles to date 2364.1 Tonight's little jaunt was all about the numbers and the timetable;- 17.53 - change in the luxury of the office 17.55 - leave late and drive like Meatloaf as coaching 18.27 - arrive at club 18.28 - another luxury - a No.1 inside 18.30 - start running; session was 15secs x2, 30 x 2, 45 x 2, 1 min x 2, 2 min x2, 3 min x 2 , 4 min x 2 with half time recoveries 19.17 - watch Ste Hartley and Stephen Morales No. 1 outside (tut tut) 19.28 - stop session missing last two 4 min efforts 19.28 - abuse from whippets who thought I was bailing 19.30 - jump in car and leave Flitwick 19.36 - strip naked, put air condition on full and drive 19.42 - stop car, put whistle back on and stop sweating 19.59 - arrive at Wagamma's for 50th birthday meal (only 30 minutes late) 23:47 - write diary Despite having to cut the session short, I was able to bang in a few miles towards the target which is now so close I can almost count the minutes. I have become worried about picking up an injury, which is partly why I didn't pan it at the session and spent almost the entire time some distance off the lad's coat tails. The route we took was quite dark in places on the pavement and my finishing fever just made me slow, along with the apparent lack of fitness since party weekend number one just gone. With party weekend number two on its way, I fear my hard fought fitness levels are going to be hammered. Luckily enough, I only have three days over Christmas self navigating 82 odd miles across likely sodden, desolate, cold, wet, windy and undulating country side with Satnav, punctuated with beer stops at any hostellerie we may happen upon mid run. This is going to be the British ultra boys version of the Medoc Marathon, save we wont do it in fancy dress and will drink pints of brew such as Buster Nut Brown Ale, Badonk-A-Dunkel Port or Hoptimus Prime (all real). I can't wait!

Dap rage!!

Day 352 Monday 17th December 5 miles : miles to date 2359.3

Its confession time. I suffered from a case of go fast dap rage on tonight's little effort. After two days of bingeing, I needed to put in a faster run to remind the Earnies how to do it.
I put the long play onto fast twitch mode, donned the head torch and began motoring up the highway. I quickly slipped into pace mode and battled the 

head wind, puffing a little in truth at a pace I wouldn't normally expect. As I ran on, the weekends festivities were clearly impacting on my fitness and the beverage belly did feel a tad rotund.
I kept my focus and ran around a set of shops when bang, it happened. A bloke in a car could clearly seeing me running at pace towards him and rather than wait for me to cross a very small car park entrance, he turned right into my path. I was watching him and checked my pace. Having done so, he then stopped right in the middle of the entrance blocking me. I just lost it for a nano second and shouted very loudly to ''MOVE ITTTTT'', before diverting my energy back to the run, side stepping the back of the death trap like J.P.R. William's and charging on.
I muttered to myself for a mile, before the instructions of Salt n' Pepper made me push it, push it real good. Just like Ant and Dec, I can never tell those two apart. I did have to slow in the second half, as despite the head gear, it was too dark and dangerous to go flat out although I did put in an average of sub seven minute mile pace, which I'l happily take after the weekend beer and food fest and tonight's conditions. I had better not mention which village I was in just in case the car driver knew me, but I can say that the Forest centre was dark again tonight. Opps, given it away.

post party run slow down

Day 351 Sunday 16th December 9.3 miles : miles to date 2354.3

This old blokes body just can't party like its 1999 anymore. A hefty all you can eat buffet last night was followed by a huge slab of stilton at David Morley's place and more left over chinese when I eventually arrived back home.
There was no way I was going to run miles today although the 2500 target meant I had to get something in

 the bank. I set off on the paper round chase course, helping my daughter deliver a few before heading off into the blue yonder not entirely sure where I was going or how far.
I meandered around the village before heading off towards the rather swollen river Great Ouse. I didn't have the long play with me, I just tried to chill out, enjoy the scenery and for once, I dodged the puddles and the mud at least at the start. I took as many country paths I could find, so inevitably the mud made its mark at the end. It was a case of just getting the job done today, with limited athletic benefit.
It's BBC sports personality of the year tonight. I'm getting slightly anxious as no one has called to let me know when I'm going to pick up the award. Or how I'm going to get to the venue, which is 200 miles away and, er, its started. Crumbs, its possible I've missed the cut. Again. They clearly don't know I've won the paper round race both times of asking. Bar humbug.

Christmas party run toooo

Day 350 Saturday 14th December 4.2 miles : miles to date 2345 After last nights partying, today's run was always going to be short and squeezed into what ever gap I could find, before I head out tonight with a group of blokes who like playing with funny shaped balls. I headed over to Bedford Park run, which had been cancelled this morning for no obvious reason. The course was clear and I lapped the park four times, overtaking a lady a few times as I did so. After starting slowly, my hung over feeling subsided and I started motoring, partly due to the need to pick Jimbo up from watching the mighty Blues trounce the once mighty Neath. I was flying by the end and the woman I passed must have experienced the Doppler Effect. This is the change in frequency of a wave (or other periodic event) for an observer moving relative to its source. It is commonly heard when a vehicle sounding a siren or horn approaches, passes, and recedes from an observer. The received frequency is higher (compared to the emitted frequency) during the approach, it is identical at the instant of passing by, and it is lower during the recession. Whilst I didn't have a siren, I was pushing hard in sections and for once was breathing quite hard. Right, time to get the party pants back on and over eat at a Chinese buffet with the boy wonder and the rest of the rugby crew. It is Christmas after all.

Christmas party run

Day 349 Friday 13th December 3.2 miles : miles to date 2340.8 Due to a late court hearing in Stevenage and an office party night out that I had organised, tonight's little jaunt was a madcap dash at some speed around the bustling streets of Dunstable. I had hoped to be able to do a longer one, due to the highly likely pending hangover on Saturday. Instead, I made do with jostling car's and pedestrians trying to get home at rush hour. I just ran hard, quickly and on a dull route going out with the traffic and straight back in. I arrived back in the hotel in my tight Max Wall running pants and general running garb giving a few of the peeps a bit of a shock, as they have only ever seen me in a suit. I didn't immediately say I was going to get changed and let them wonder if that was my party outfit. I eventually made my way back up to the honeymoon suite where I had been upgraded free of charge by the hotel, spending a little time on the chaise longue before heading once more into the breach dear friends, once more. If Henry V had finished that off with ''Follow your spirit or beer of choice, and upon this hotel charge, Cry 'God for Pablo, Taffyland, and Saint David" that would have been more apt as my flexible friend took a hammering in the bar.

Day 348 Thursday 13th December 7.9 miles : miles to date 2337.6 I arrived at the club tonight for my last Thursday session of the year, cold, tired and a tad lethargic (still two more Thursdays but I can't get to the club). This feeling has been with me now for a little while and I can only put it down to almost finished fever. There is no other obvious reason why I should now feel tired, having been hammering away at this running lark all year without more than a handful of bad days. I just need miles now and the go fast daps have been stored by utilizing the best currently known cryropreservation methodologies. They have been put in the garage and the monster mile munchers have been dusted down. It was great to see Jerry Day back on the start line for what turned out to be quite a nippy figure of eight on the normal hilly winter loop, along with the ever dependable Silver Surfer Phil Clarke. There were only two of the ultra quick whippets springing out of the traps and I just didn't fancy another run on my own. I would inevitably have ended in the middle, so I went out for a much more social run with the lads. That wasn't the easy option as both are back on form. Despite chatting all the way, we still managed it in around 58 minutes which on a night like tonight, I will happily take. It was in truth so much easier with them both, so cheers lads.

1212121212121212122 arrrghhhhh

Day 347 Wednesday 12th December 8.3 miles : miles to date 2329.7

The plan today was to do 12 on my 12th at 12.12.12 on 12.12.12, but due to work at 12.12, I missed doing my 12 at 12.12.12 on 12.12.12 and instead did around 12 on the 12.12.12 at 5 but not 12 on the 12.12.12. Hope that's all clear.  I did consider a 12 at 12.12.12 or a 12 at 12.12.12 but instead decided to stay at home and enjoy 1:21:02am. For a whole second, I partied hard celebrating the point the date and time is the same read forward and backwards : 2012-12-12 1:21:02 = 201212-1-212102.

 Other interesting facts about 12 include:-

1. The dirty dozen - were actually quite clean in real life

2. 12 - the average pregnancy age in Merthyr Tydfil

3. The original number of dwarfs: missing are Smelly, Itchy, Sweaty, Pongo and Poo (not sure why they not in the film)

4. 12 peeps have walked on the moon (not including Sting)

5. A bakers dozen is 13

6.  The Chinese year of birth is represented by one of these: Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, and Pig.

7. 12 - the average number of pints Welsh girls drink on a Tuesday night

8.  There are twelve astrological signs

9. 12% is the average number of made up facts

10. 12 - the last time I ate carrots - urrrgghh

11. 12 - the number of Leo Sayer LP's I own

12. 12 - the amount ear marked for Fi's Chrimbo present's

(OK, I'll explain the above. 12 miles on the 12th run of the month, at 12pm 12mins 12secs on the 12th Dec 2012, but work at 12.12pm, meant I missed doing what I just said and did around 12 km on the  above date at 5pm but not 12 miles on the above date.) The next list is 12.12.12 am etc!

Hello pop pickers

Day 346 Tuesday 11th December 6 miles : miles to date 2306 With exactly three weeks and two hundred miles to go, today's little trot was a laid back affair trying to re-charge the batteries and re-focus the mind for the last big push. A day off gave me the chance to don the Max Wall pants, turn up the long play and go for an easy, slow, cold cross country run. For once I blew the club speed session out, ran early and enjoyed more sumptuous repast with the clan. I put the pod on shuffle and chuckled at the eclectic mix that poured out, which included from recollection the following classics :- Funkadelic - One nation under a Groove Tenpole Tudor - Swords of a Thousand Men Pigbag - Papa's Got a brand new Pigbag Blue Oyster Cult - Don't fear the Reaper Boomtown Rats - She's so Modern Foo Fighters - Pretender Heaven 17 - Temptation Madness - Bed and Breakfast Man I felt like I was back on the 80's on the way to the school disco. Come to think of it, I was dressed the same. Skinny pants, trainers, t-shirt and a bit sweaty. Yep, I looked a wally then as well. I was just taking it slow and wound back at five miles. I was going to stop, when Ian Drury and the Blockheads came on just as I was pulling up. It would have been a sacrilege to stop at that point, so I turned around and put in another mile listening to one of the first records I ever bought. Strewth, that dates me.

The Old Bill run

Day 345 Monday 10th December 6.5 miles : miles to date 2300 For once I looked at the total as I knew I was close to moving into the penultimate hundred miles. I decided it would be nice to settle on a nice round number and save the 4's for Tuesday. I ran my normal six mile loop and tacked on a half mile on the course of my famous paper round race, which I won earlier this year both times of asking. The crowds were a bit sparse tonight and even Megan declined to take part. Still, the race entry limit was again reached and I didn't even advertise it this time. To be entirely fair to me, even London marathon can't boast a 100% race day entry, with such a consistent winner. Who also happens to the loser at the same time. I ran up and down the local streets a few times, looking like I was casing the hood (yuff speak apparently), going around in ever decreasing circles to get to the exact distance. I must have looked a bit of a wally to anyone looking out. What am I saying? All the sane peeps were inside, toasting marshmallows and watching the soaps. They wouldn't have bothered opening the curtains. All the same, as soon as I finished I legged it home just in case someone had called the old bill.

Bedford Half Marathon 2012

Day 344 Sunday 9th December 13.1 miles : miles to date 2293.5 Oh dear, it had to happen. For me, the worst race of the year. Not in terms of time, as a 1:29:30 half marathon is semi ok I guess, but I just didn't enjoy it. I just wasn't in the game today and the positive neurotransmitters were just smoking weed or were on holiday. As we all know from earlier posts, neurotransmitters are packaged into synaptic vesicles clustered beneath the membrane in the axon terminal, on the presynaptic side of a synapse. They are released into and diffuse across the synaptic cleft, where they bind to specific receptors in the membrane on the postsynaptic side of the synapse. Yeah, whatever. Mine were in serious grumpy old man mode today. I'm just not in the fast running frame of mind and in truth, I have half an eye on finishing the year streak and three quarters of an eye on the last serious challenge of the year, Hadrian's Wall. I spent the first part of the year running long and slow, the middle part burning it up and now I'm trying to go slow and long. Truth is slow used to be easy and it just isn't anymore. I suspect that last bottle of wine and three double Baileys to round off the night on Friday influenced my two day hangover and general grumpiness, but I woke up this morning thinking I just can't be bothered to hammer it, so I didn't. That having been said, I set off with a runner that earlier in the year, I just wouldn't have thought I would be in the same league, Steven Upton . We stayed together until half way, when my blooming shoe lace came undone. Just stopping for 30 seconds meant I couldn't catch him and I dropped the pace for the middle section. I slowed so badly, that the world and his wife went past me including one bloke who was breathing so hard I thought he was going to have a heart attack. I just didn't have any breathing problems at all, although the 9 miles I did on Thursday was in the legs. My slowest mile was at 8 when I did 7.14 (shocking I know), followed by 7.02, 6.45, 6.38, 6.28 and 6.28. The only reason why I picked it up? Ivor the Engine obviously. The heavy breather was getting on my wick. The best part of the day was seeing my fellow club mates doing so well. Yet another great day out for the mighty AFF! Close on the heels of that, was catching up with my fellow shadow Olympic torch hero's (?) Belinda Bradberry and Adrian Smith. Without question, the highlight of the day