were is next door neighbours, like. To make things worse, he were sick on their cat.Aye. He ran a crackin race next day though. Knocked three seconds of t Commonwealth 10,000m record, as I recall.Four, actually.Ah, says the angel on my left
in case I had hypochondria. I get it when Im meditating, too. Im supposed to count out 10 breaths while concentrating wholly on my breathing. If my mind strays to anything else Ducati motorcycles, the size of mangoes, the Shania Twain video then I
-increasing knackeredness. Soon, merely putting on my shoes was enough to exhaust me. I weighed myself. I was the heaviest I’d ever been. I embarked upon a virtually fat-free diet: tuna and baked potatoes, obscure leaves and roots, soya, pale, thin milk like blood
contained within the folds of a punctured football. And perched triumphantly upon its back was a fat, brown and cream striped spider. I stopped my watch at 2:07 seconds, and bent the better to observe the unfolding of this minuscule drama. Was I witnessing a
In the last 20 years, running has become inextricably entangled with fund-raising.Correct me if I’m wrong, but until the first London Marathon we ran only for ourselves. When we turned up in the rain to plod round the Cabbage Patch 10, the last
As the Trans 333 looms ever closer, a frisson of pure terror is rippling through our little band of British ‘disties’ – we who are either too old, too fat, too lame or generally too congenitally useless to run anything under 100 miles in a time
and tracks that were supposed to lead us to the ridge of the Malverns.Steeple chase: the race was run against a backdrop of villages, churches and rolling hillsI suppose propelling us up a 1:4 incline bearing 10kg rucksacks at the height of a heatwave
