Month 5 - Nelson Mandela's Still Alive!

Running is seen by many as the metaphor for life itself, self-propulsion breeding self-confidence, a mental motion filing all of lifes commotions...in the words of Bear Grylls 'there's no magic to running far, endurance is mental strength, it's all about heart.'

Heeding the advice of a man who once swigged his luke warm urine from the skin of a freshly garotted snake the confidence levels were brimming.  Like the three musketeers of musketeering fame it was with a metaphorical 'en garde' that the loom of three consecutive Sunday half marathons were welcomed.

To June, the month that summer forgot, the christian name of popular Eastenders actress and long-time advocate of the menthol cigarette Dorothy Cotton, and the common name for the much maligned scarab beetle.

First up was Bathgate, a town of people and homes, for many a place of dreams.  A half marathon of many states...industrial estates, housing estates and vistas of varying beauty and odour.  The melancholy soon faded at the sight of the birthplace of rotund choral songstress Susan Boyle (known locally as Simple Susie), I dreamed a dream this day would come, to run in West Lothian minus the sun.  After 1hr41.56 the line was crossed, and towards Dunfermline all attention did turn.

 

Alas Dunfermline, once capital of this fair land, buriel place of Robert the Bruce and birth place to Andrew Carnegie, he of philanthropy fame and fortune and without whom the historically significant and topologically rugged glen of Pittencrieff Park would have failed to play host to the botanically beautiful and ornithologically opulent starting venue of Fife's superus running event.  A lap of the park, a fondle of the surrounding scenery and a lope to the line in 1hr43.12.

Dunfermline Half

Stonehaven, the mercury kissing 20 celsius and a road called Slug to which the route would meander, upwards to a peak of exhaustion, mercilessly pursued by a fanciful cloud of flies.  Summit scaled, descent devoured, the finish approached and passed in 1hr46.34, pride was quickly replaced by excitement as the epic buffet came into view, hunger quelled.

Injury update - right knee, twin black toenails.

Next up Month 6 and 3 marathons, to subscribe why not donate £5 here - www.justgiving.com/russell-beswick

Month 4 - He's a Jolly Good Fellow

Oprah Winfrey once said 'running is the greatest metaphor for life, because you get out of it what you put into it'

Similarly Michelle McManus also once said 'the oven, refrigerator and microwave are the greatest metaphors for life, because you get out of it what you put into it, an obese head, no neck and a waddle for a walk'

Ah the month of May, the man of May (James), the Isle of May...we May move on, the time was nigh, the time for deliberating and constipation was over, it was time for the most anticipated event of the year, the annual attack of the senses, a journey of emotions, a musical masterpiece, an apocalypse of entertainment, one word, one trophy, one chance...EUROVISION!

Lest we digress, one month, four races, two legs, ten toes...lets do it.

Race one, a trip North to the AngusHam and a sun-soaked run in the blisteringly beautiful yet frightfully hilly Monikie countryside...having unwittingly chosen to leave all previous form at Dundee bus station it was a bedraggled and twice baked figure of a man that trudged over the finish line in a new Personal Worst time of 1hr52.32, the sympathy pour homme was not forthcoming so it was back to Edinburgh and the awaiting wrath of the North Berwick 20 miler.


AngusHam - Oink

A sparse throng of runners assembled for the sun drenched stroll along the coast to North Berwick, the lucky number for the day was 20, 20 miles in 20 degrees of hot orange melty stuff.  My brisk and pacey start to the race was interupted by a return of the troubles from the previous week, unlike Northern Ireland a peace deal was reached within 3 miles and that Good Friday feeling returned to guide me to the finish in an unspectacular 3hr01.03.

Next up was the Monklands half, but my chance to banish the demons went firmly down the train...a Scotrail train to be precise, thanks to their kind generosity they had chosen to engineer beyond their call of duty and cancel all morning services without so much as a whisper or announcement...choo-choo-choo-rific it was not.

Edinburgh marathon arrived, a fitting swansong to a bruising month, the weather was selected, windy sunshine with spurty showers, breakfast was quoffed, liquids downed and relieved, nerves jangled in the wind, and then we were off.  The colourfully clad running conga danced it's way along the coastal road, snaking past the mental ruins left during the battle to North Berwick two weeks previous before a fleeting foray around the Gosford House grounds and a gusty sprint to the finish in Musselburgh...3hr45.25, spectacular it wasn't but almost spectatorless it was, had the much hyped armageddon arrived, replacing the bustling grandstand carnival atmosphere of the previous year? we may never know, RIP GSi Events.



Edinburgh 5km



Edinburgh Marathon


A fond farewell to the month - total distance covered 137km in 716mins over 10 runs.

Injury update - knee (right one) not right.

Stay tuned for Month 5, pleeeeeeeeeease donate here - www.justgiving.com/russell-beswick

Month 3 - Kicking Assphalt

Inner city life, inner city pressure, this concrete world is starting to get you, the city is alive, the city is expanding, running through the streets can be quite demanding.

The sprung of spring had seen the running begin, and with its Gregorian grace saw April approach, the sun on its shoulder, wind in its hair, and a menu in hand offering an Edinburgh half for starter and a tempting Kilomathon for dessert...too kind an offer to refuse.

All but too soon Edinburgh was upon me, quite literally, as a resident of the city...a brisk stroll to the start venue of Meadowbank Stadium and my first taste of pre-'this'll look great in 40 years' architecture, quite probably constructed in the dark and furnished by the blind...but I digress, this was once an internationaly famed athletics facility and I and 3000 other athletes were stoking that fire once again...to the sound of the starters' pistol the stampede began.

FEEL THE BURN

Dancing my way through the sun-soaked-sea-hugging East Lothian towns the sun hit my eyes like a big pizza pie (that's amore), three tips were gained for the future...always wear sunscreen, never wear a thermal base layer and be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone...lesson learned.  The finish line was crossed, medal collected, apple quaffed, all in a moderate time of 1h39mins44secs.



H.O.T.T.Y

Seven days had passed, a weak to the legs and feet, the shrill of the 5am Sunday alarm could mean only one thing, arise dear Russell and find ye a kilomathon to conquer, 26.2km of 'the perfect race distance'.  Heeding the tips from the previous week the sunscreen was forgotten, red-wristed from the slapping that ensued I entered Fife, the land to where my existence was shaped...but barely did I have time to bless ye Fife than it was about turn and Forth back over the Firth to the sanctity of a Queen named Ferry and her braw Haws Brae.  At precisely 2hr6mins59secs the finish was met, medal donned and goodies bagged, race 4 twas complete.

A fond farewell to the month - total distance covered 101.17km in 486mins over 9 runs.

Injury update (but not excuses) - feet and big toe.

Stay tuned for Month 4, brought to you in association with www.justgiving.com/russell-beswick



Month 2 - Your Pace or Mines

Spring was in the air, in every stride and every sound, and almost everywhere I looked around...and I don't know if I'm being foolish and I don't know if I'm being wise, but it's there when I look in the skies.

A fond farewell was said to January and February and with eager enthusiasm and a beaming smile it was a forward March to the first race of the year and the start of what historians will almost definitely refer to as 'March 2011'.

Whilst the training failed to excite it was through the spontaneous act of entering the Meadows (insert 'Half' here if pernickety) Marathon at a week's notice that drew a sharp and cold intake of breath, a vigorous scratch of each temple and a worrying squeeze of reality from within. 

The day soon dawned and the sound of the starters horn was greeted with both trepidation and excitement, the smile continued to beam but was soon rudely joined by the trademark grimace.  The miles swept under the feet with relative ease, the warming cheer from the onlooking throng at the start of each lap provided a roar of mental motivation...striding onwards to a finishing time of 1hr40mins16secs.

Basking in the glory and ferociously polishing the medal was always a possibility but as a man of greater substance, and the fact that no medal was awarded, it was to Alloa that all attention turned and the Ochil Hills that lay within.  As predicted, and with almost chronological precision that day also arrived and once more it was with grimacing propultion, and a delightful slice of melon from Bananaman (superhero spectator), that the finishing line was greeted with a time of 1hr39mins22secs.

The curtain was drawn on the month - total distance covered 109.67km in 529mins over 12 runs.

Injury update (but not excuses) - ankle, knee and big toe.

Stay tuned for Month 3, brought to you in association with www.justgiving.com/russell-beswick

Month 1 - Hurting 4 Weeks

By the fabled words of Lewis Carroll I hereby baptize this blog - 'begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop'

It was Sunday and the weather outside was frightful but following an injury-induced and over-extended festive running break the training had to belatedly begin, the date in question was the 16th of January and the time for talking was over, the time was actually 10am and the imaginary gun was cocked, finger caressing the trigger...on your marks, get set...go!

After the crescendo of applause subsided the legs roared into action, soon the feet began to follow and the long loping stride found it's gazelle like gait with style and grace, occasionally putting a smile upon my face.  The mileage covered was insignificant as it was the metric system to which I had flourished into adulthood obeying, it was 5km that posed the problem, 25 mins provided the answer.

Having rejoiced in the success of this initial galloping gambit it was onwards and upwards, downwards and swearwords, all contributing towards a fruitful yet fanciless 4 weeks running. 

Total distance covered 88.03km in 437mins over 13 runs.

Injuries (but not excuses) - ankle, shin and knee (also known as the leg)

Stay tuned for Month 2, brought to you in association with www.justgiving.com/russell-beswick