I was doing so well...

...I was too! The last decent run Rabea and I did was 4.3 miles around Bangor on March 2nd, atking us about 51 minutes, which isn't totally embarassing. But then I decided that I wanted to do a Krav Maga course in Dublin (see here, if you're interested in what it is), so off I went.

The first day was great. I even went for a run at lunchtime to warm myself up for the afternoon's activities. The second day was just 6 or 7 hours of knocking the crap out of eachother (which I thoroughly enjoyed, I must say), and then I went back to Belfast on the train. Apart from a slightly black eye, a cut to the forehead and some ancillary bruising, I thought I'd got away with it OK. But then come the middle of the week, after the pain of the bruising and muscle use had diminished, a pain in my ribs just kept getting worse and worse. OK, so you've guessed - a broken rib. Not only that, but my plantar fibromatosis was acting up rightly too.

Anyway, I had my first session with the physiotherapist on 12th March and she told me that my left foot was badly inflamed, so no more running at least until my next session. I agreed to this, even though it would mean I would be missing my running from 5th March - 21st March (2.5 weeks - eek!) I went home after this and diligently rested and iced as instructed. Then on Saturday 17th I decided (she had agreed this was OK) to have a go on the cross-trainer. Ouch - my feet have been sore ever since (2 days). However the pain from the ribs is much more bearable now, and I suppose the plantar fibromatosis itself isn't significantly worse.

So, in short, I've been doing naff all training since 5th March. It's now 19th March and we have our first run (Omagh 4 miles) on 31st March. And now my feet are sore from 30 minutes on a cross trainer - what the Hell use is that?? What am I going to do..?

MOK Run

I have conned my mate Rabea into joining me in a half-marathon on 27th May. Not just any old half marathon of course - this is the Mull of Kintyre half marathon. Last year someone voted it the most picturesque run in the UK, so I thought it would be better than pounding through the streets of some smelly old city (I've often wondered about the wisdom of training your lungs so that they can more efficiently collect all the carbon monoxide and other crap from running, say, the London Marathon. I mean, have you seen what your snot looks like after a day spent in the "big smoke"?

So we'll be running our first (possibly last) proper race across the sands of Kintyre and around the leafy byways of Campbeltown. Makes sense to me, although getting there from Ireland is a bit of an odyssey.

Meantime, the training is going OK. We're up to running 7 minutes non-stop now, and a total of 23 minutes running altogether. We've found a pretty good venue too - the Lagan Valley towpath, which runs from Belfast to Lisburn. So far we've explored as far as Shaw's Bridge (about 5 miles there and back), but I can see us doing the 12 miles to Lisburn yet (although I'm not running back again!)

The knees are holding up OK, but the left foot is getting worse (it's the plantar fibromatosis thing). Anyway, I'm interspersing cycling with running (no impact, and it helps the knees), and will just have to make do with this for the moment.

Onwards and upwards.

The Supreme Athlete awakes

3 years ago, having stopped smoking for several days, and approaching the age of 45, and being generally a lazy sonofabitch, I decided I must do a marathon. Being also an impatient and impetuous old so-and-so, I decided I must do it immediately. Two wrecked knees later, I stopped running and started smoking again.

Now it's different. Now it's personal: it's me or these knees. So I've stopped smoking again, bought a book on how to run (!?), strapped on two knee supports, and I'm off again!

This blog will chart the progress from my current state (one slightly sore right knee, 3 months of walk-running with a maximum constant run time of 25 minutes, and a newly serviced bicycle) to half-marathon fitness in May 2007 (well, we'll have to see about that I suppose).

One slightly problematic development is the, er, development, of a disease called Plantar Fibromatosis in my left foot. But it could be worse, and I'm damned if it's going to get in my way. In fact it's now doubly personal, I suppose - it's now me or these-knees-and-the-plantar-fibromatosis.

So we'll see!