Good old Benfleet bucks the trend!

"Keep going, only another 14 miles to go!"

LAST Sunday morning, at the crack of dawn, a runner I know crept out of bed to set off early for the Benfleet 15-mile race, a popular but tough annual off-road event in Essex beside the Thames estuary. There was snow and ice everywhere, but my friend had been assured this race always goes ahead no matter what. And besides, he’d paid his £15 entry fee and didn’t want to lose face by failing to show just because of dodgy weather.

Feeling anxious, but still up for the challenge, he carefully gathered up his cold-weather running gear, gulped down porridge and coffee, and crept out the front door. Within seconds he’d slipped over and bruised a knee, cracked an elbow and landed unceremoniously on his backside. Looking up, he noticed the car windscreen was frozen solid, the road past his house was a sheet of ice, and the sky was looking menacing.

All his resolve of earlier was gone in an instant. He picked himself up and, with tail between legs, crept back indoors. A picture of misery, he quietly undressed, returned to the bedroom and slipped back under the duvet next to his long-suffering wife.

"It’s shocking out there, honey," he whispered.

"Yes," she replied, "but my idiot husband still went running!"

OK, it’s an old and well-worn joke, but given current prevailing weather conditions, something similar must have happened somewhere on Planet Running last weekend?

Actually, the fact the Benfleet 15 bravely went ahead at all on Sunday was great news for runners in general, particularly the clapped-out old traditionalists like me. However, just 24 hours later, there was bad news when the Southern Cross-Country Championships on Parliament Hill Fields was called off due to the snow – SIX DAYS in advance!

Shocking that such a major historic event – at the spiritual home of cross-country running - should be cancelled at all, let alone almost a week ahead. Was this ‘health and safety’ gone mad? It was reported that the decision came from the people who manage the site (the City of London Corporation) rather than the race officials – and the reasons given were two-fold: The course is “badly rutted” and there are  “snow-related travel problems” involved.

When I started running (many aeons ago), the weather gods could throw whatever they liked at us, but cross-country races would always go ahead regardless.

Roads could become impassable, train services non-existent, all other sporting pursuits brought to their knees. But a British cross-country race always went ahead – there was nothing bad enough to cause a cancellation. NOTHING. Not even the arrival of the end of the world. And even if the world had ended, somebody would have pulled a few strings to get the race staged in a parallel universe.

It was such a badge of honour to defy the weather that an Athletics Weekly reporter, a Scotsman called Colin Shields, even published a book about the sport in 1990 which he called ‘Runs Will take Place Whatever the Weather.’

It was acknowledged back then that the whole point of this sport was for participants to tackle with gusto everything Mother Nature could throw. Difficult terrain, difficult weather and, of course, difficult opponents, were all part of the game. The harder the better. In most runners’ minds, there was no such thing as a cross-country course that was TOO difficult to run (not even the one at Stebbing!) When old Walter Rye introduced the sport to the general populus back in 1868 he never intended it would be a leisurely pursuit.

I suspect things started to change in the 1980s when TV coverage of major races came along. It wouldn’t have made good telly for the runners to head off into the distance, disappearing into woods and valleys away from the cameras. So courses had to be created that went round and round in red-and-white taped circles, with little artificial slopes built in to break the monotony, the field never venturing far from where they started.

Zola Budd came over from South Africa and ran some of our courses barefoot, but that wasn’t enough to deter the ‘health and safety’ brigade, who before long were quoting all manner of peripheral reasons for curbing or cancelling cross-country events.

Although Benfleet was a multi-terrain race and not, strictly speaking, a ‘cross-country’ event, it was good to see it buck this trend and stick two fingers up to the weather. But the Southern XC debacle comes hot on the heels of cancellation of the South of England Indoor (!) Championships at Lee Valley, proving that even with a roof over their heads, other factors are now paramount when staging athletics.

Elsewhere last week, officials did get the McCain Cardiff Cross Challenge moving, even though a high number of county schools championships and road races never happened. Even the ‘Brass Monkey Half Marathon’ near York was called off, which by its very title is surely supposed to go ahead regardless of the cold?

And here’s an amusing footnote to all this: Over in Minnesota, USA, a race was cancelled last week for the second year in a row, because there was NOT ENOUGH snow!  Mind you, dogs and sleds were apparently involved, so perhaps their caution can be forgiven . . .  

* Rob Hadgraft’s five published books on running (plus 11 others on football) are now also available as e-books for Kindle at just £4.99 each.   Use this link:   Rob Hadgraft's running books on Amazon  or, alternatively:   www.robhadgraft.com

No skullduggery in this neck of the woods!

Southend .v. Colchester last weekend - no quarter given!

AS I write this, many miles away Lance Armstrong and Oprah Winfrey are cosying up on a sofa in the disgraced cyclist’s expensive home in Austin, Texas. TV cameras are recording their conversation for broadcast later this week. The world outside is holding its breath, excited to find out what was said in the 150-minute interview.

Did Lance apologise for being a cheat, a liar, and a bounder of the first order?  Has he finally confessed to systematic doping over a period of years? Did he tearfully beg forgiveness? Did he get a sympathetic hug from his friend Oprah or did she attack him in fierce Paxman-style?

It is widely believed that Armstrong is coming clean after years of denial because at the age of 41 he now wants to pave the way for a return to competitive sport. Not in cycling, but in marathons and triathlons.  

Not quite sure how that will work out, but he’ll need to have put up one hell of a performance on Oprah’s show if he wants the distance-running world to welcome him with open arms.  We runners have long memories.

Of course, here in the humble world of the Clapped-Out Runner, cheating is a rare and abhorrent thing. As far as I know, anyway.

Many people would say the stuff I take before a race is more likely to hinder than help. For example, the only stimulants that passed my lips last weekend were a pre-race cocktail of instant coffee, Trebor Extra Strong mints and a banana. All three were ingested (separately) in the 60 minutes before Sunday morning’s 53-12 Cross-Country League meeting on Martlesham Heath, near Ipswich. I quite fancied a Jaffa Cake or a Fig Roll too, but sadly those delicacies were not available due to a shopping malfunction earlier in the week.  

A week or so earlier I was reduced to necking a couple of sachets of Lemsip and the odd Strepsil, but I’m fairly sure those are not on the IAAF’s banned list, so I think I was running clean at Martlesham. There was a peculiar smell pervading the race, but this was probably something to do with the heaps of manure near the finish-line rather than any illegal substances being bandied about.

Down here at sport’s grass roots level the only cheating that goes on is usually accidental. Like runners who cut corners very slightly by going the wrong side of the red-and-white plastic tape. Or the bloke who barged clumsily into a runner from the home club, Ipswich JAFFA, and spiked him in very painful fashion.

Now, I ask you, is that any way to treat your hosts? Apparently the spiking incident tore the guy’s shoe open and caused a foot injury bad enough to put him out of the race.  We assume it was all accidental, but who knows? Perhaps the perpetrator was unhappy with the 5.37-mile course that JAFFA had devised and was expressing his discontent with violence? Or perhaps the fumes from the manure heaps were affecting his balance and powers of navigation?

Whatever the reasons, the victim was certainly very angry and felt there was no need for what had happened, reacting with some very fruity language.  I know exactly how he felt:  I recall a 10k road race in Peterborough a while back during which a small but well-built fellow came barrelling past me with such force and disregard for personal space that I nearly ended up in the River Nene. 

This was not one of those commonplace brushes from a stray elbow, but more like being run over from behind by a small tank. It led to one of those confrontations which in football they call ‘handbags at 10 paces’.  Most collisions in running are probably caused by somebody’s clumsiness or carelessness, but to the victim it doesn’t always feel like that. An apology is usually enough to smooth things over, but strangely that is not always forthcoming in the heat of the action. Road-racing is hard enough as it is, without it becoming a contact sport!

But we runners are nothing if not resilient and positive people, and the bruised Ipswich man from Sunday was soon treating his misfortune as a blessing in disguise. Less than 24 hours later he was announcing how he was looking forward with glee to going shopping for a lovely brand new pair of shoes to replace the damaged ones! Any excuse.

My own club also emerged from Sunday’s race wreathed in smiles. For Tiptree Road Runners, small but perfectly formed, have very nearly clinched top place in Pool ‘B’ of the 53-12 Cross-Country League. OK, it’s not a development that will sweep Lance Armstrong off the sports pages, but it’s big news in jam-making country.

We can now begin to look forward to next season and the chance to compete with the big boys and girls in Pool ‘A’!  It will be rather like Swansea City’s arrival in football’s Premier League last year: Everyone will expect instant relegation for such small fry, but Tiptree will attempt to emulate Swansea by using our limited budget sensibly and producing some attractive displays out on the grass. The only problem might be finding a new signing like Michu to win us the necessary points to stay up.

* Rob Hadgraft’s five published books on running (plus 11 others on football) are now also available as e-books for Kindle at just £4.99 each.   Use this link:   Rob Hadgraft's running books on Amazon  or, alternatively:   www.robhadgraft.com

          

Night time is the right time!

NOS GALAN: A great atmosphere - despite the lardy cakes!

IT would be nice to start the new year full of beans, setting some new running targets for the 12 months ahead.

But large swathes of recent weeks have been rendered zero-mileage zones. My progress into 2013 has been littered with support bandages, tubes of Ibuprofen gel, packs of Strepsils and sachets of Lemsip.   

It was exactly the same a year ago – and the one before that. A pattern seems to be developing. Perhaps it’s nature’s way of telling me to take a short break from running. Maybe it’s a hiaitus that wouldn’t happen at all if the authorities could change the calendar a little and stage the festive period once every four years in future. This works well for the Olympics and the World Cup, after all.  

For me, the running year nowadays runs out of steam in mid-December and only splutters back into life around mid-February. This means my annual ambition to run a full set of league cross-country fixtures is left in tatters every winter.  

The only saving grace in 2012-13 has been the arrival of the Parkrun project on my manor. These low-key weekly 5k races in town parks are ideal when coming back from injury, illness, or periods of low mileage. 

Until recently there were none within an hour of your Clapped-Out Runner’s residence, but now I suddenly have three to choose from every Saturday. You spoil us, Mr Parkrun Ambassador!

New Year arrived in the UK with folk repeating that grumpy mantra about it being an overrated occasion. As far as I can tell, most people over 30 stayed home and watched Jools’ Hootenanny on TV, accompanied by friends or family or a fridge full of booze. Maybe all three. Nobody holds parties any more, and town centre pubs are only accessible by ticket or entry fee!

Seems to me there’s an urgent need for more New Year’s Eve midnight races. There’s a famous one in South Wales (Nos Galan) and they are popular in Brazil, Portugal (Sao Silvestre races), Spain and Italy.  The idea involves a road race commencing a few minutes before midnight, so you run into the new year amid a sparkling, floodlit atmosphere, watching crowds cheering on friends and family while throwing drink and hot food down their necks in the cool night air. You can’t beat it.

In my 30 years as a runner, I’ve spent four New Year’s Eves in sweat-soaked running kit – Nos Galan races in 1988 and 1994, Lisbon in Portugal in 1990 and the Peak District in 2000. Four very different races, all rather surreal, but a great way to see in the new year.

The Nos Galan event in Mountain Ash, South Wales, was founded in 1958 and soon attracted big fields and famous names, and at its height was covered live on BBC TV. But in 1973 the police got shirty about traffic congestion and it was cancelled. In 1984 it returned and is still going today, although the wretched health and safety aspect means it’s no longer staged at midnight which was the whole point in the first place.

It all starts with a wreath being laid on the grave of local hero Guto Nyth Bran. A flaming torch is then carried into Mountain Ash by a mystery celebrity runner, who reveals themselves to the awaiting crowds before the main race in the hilly narrow streets of the town. Past mystery runners have included Olympians Mary Rand, Dave Bedford, Lynn Davies and – most recently – Dai Greene.

By all accounts old Guto Nyth Bran deserves the homage this event pays him. Apparently he was such a fast runner he could catch a bird in flight, and once ran to Pontypridd and back before the kettle boiled. When he was 37, he won a 12-mile challenge against ‘The Prince of Bedwas’ but all the congratulatory slaps on the back proved too much for him and he died in the arms of girlfriend Sian.  There’s no film footage to prove any of this I’m afraid, because it happened in the year 1737.

I recall my first Nos Galan appearance in 1988 rather well because it was probably my best race performance ever. Despite steep hills I managed 19:35 for 6k  (5:16 per mile) although still only came 110^th of 600, such was the quality of this and other fields back then. Four of us travelled to Wales for the event and this week I contacted the other three for their 24-year-old memories:

According to Mark: “I remember the extraordinary race well, with all its torchlight and tradition and celebrity, and enjoyed the Guinness afterwards and the race T shirt. I also recall an aggressive goat called Henry Cooper where we stayed, as well as some fairly unpalatable lardy cakes eaten pre-race in the grounds of Cardiff Castle."

Julie confirms the “nasty lardy cakes” but was convinced ‘Henry Cooper’ was a sheep and not a goat. Bev, who had to go shopping for new sheets, such was the inferior standard of our accommodation, recalls: “We stayed in the world's worst B&B. Really uncomfortable beds and a grumpy landlady. And as I’m definitely a lark and not an owl, I was so tired by midnight I could hardly be bothered to jog let alone race!”

There were certainly more creature comforts on offer at the Sao Silvestre midnight race which followed in 1990 in Portugal. For starters there was free hotel accommodation because the manager apparently mistook me for someone famous (perfectly understandable!). No flaming torch or lardy cakes, but warmer temperatures, Champagne on the beach, and fireworks. “A pretty fab way to see in the new year,” recalls Bev.  

In cautious, safety-conscious UK it’s hard to imagine the authorities encouraging midnight races in our boozed-up 21^st century city centres. Mind you, back in 1980 nobody could have predicted London allowing a major marathon on its streets every year. 
Come back Chris Brasher, we need you . . . .

* Rob Hadgraft’s five published books on running (plus others on football) are now also available as e-books for Kindle at just £4.99 each.   Use this link:   Rob Hadgraft's running books on Amazon  or, alternatively:   www.robhadgraft.com

Come Hell or High Water!

It may look picturesque, but this Norfolk road caused my achilles strain!

ODD things can happen on a New Year’s eve. Like your Clapped-Out Runner going for a run three times in one day, for example!

There is a logical explanation for this unprecedented and frankly rather odd behaviour, however. I may be getting old (57 of your human years at the last count), but I haven’t mislaid all my marbles yet.

What happened is that New Year’s Eve arrived and I found myself just 4.5 miles short of completing 600 miles during the calendar year of 2012. One of my main targets for the year had been to ensure I didn’t fall below 600, which is after all only a modest total for a committed club runner. There was no way I was going to write 595.5 miles in the Old Grey Training Log.  Those final few miles simply HAD to be done, come hell or high water (and, yes, there was plenty of high water to contend with).

The main problem, however, was a pesky achilles tendon strain picked up a week earlier, which meant completing those 4.5 miles would be a tad tricky. The only solution was to break the distance into three separate sessions, and then shuffle along the road with a tiny economical stride to protect the injury. Sad and strange, but it had to be done!

This injury had caused a rather forlorn ‘DNF’ at the Witham Boxing Day 5-miler a few days earlier.  If any of you saw a man in shorts limping along Spa Road on December 26, cursing and wincing, it was not a homeless hobo looking for his super-strength lager, it was just me and my inflamed heel.

I was barely a mile from the end when the pain began to get serious, but there was no point in carrying on. That dastardly upward hill near the finish-line meant I would only be risking further damage. As if the prospect of a rare ‘DNF’ wasn’t bad enough, falling just short of 600 miles for the year was looking likely too. I was injured and marooned in the 590s - rather like a batsman chasing a century in cricket while stuck in the nervous 90s.  

By the way, for the uninitiated, the acronym ‘DNF’ doesn’t stand for Deliberately Not Functioning, Down ‘n Floundering, nor even Danbury National Front. It actually means Did Not Finish.

The little Essex town of Witham may not be the best place to suffer a ‘DNF’ and consequently become stranded on foot. For Witham reportedly has more potholes per street than any other place in Essex and there is also a famous ‘smell’ that lingers over part of the town. In addition, some of the locals are odd characters given to wild bursts of fantasy and exaggeration: For example, one bloke was photographed driving through town last week with a personalised car registration number which claimed:  12” NOB! (For further information contact Laura via Facebook).

Nevertheless, the local running club (Witham RC), rise above all this nonsense and are a lively and friendly lot, despite those yellow shirts of theirs.  They are very PC, and a have an unusually high proportion of female members. One of these is Brigid, who powers round cross-country races employing an impressive Sharapova-style shriek. The best thing is to let her pass. Another unique aspect of this club is the infamous Witham Greasy Breakfast, which some of their number wolf down at Morrison’s café every Sunday.

Doesn’t sound very runner-nutritious to me, but if it might help clear up an achilles tendon strain, I’d be willing to give it a go.  Other suggested remedies, less fattening perhaps, would be welcome.

* Rob Hadgraft’s five published books on running (plus others on football) are now also available as e-books for Kindle at just £4.99 each.   Use this link:   Rob Hadgraft's running books on Amazon  or, alternatively:   www.robhadgraft.com

   

   

Nudists, Emus, Elephants and Other Runners in the News!

RUNNING is a more newsworthy activity than you might think.

This week I dug out my little reporter’s notebook, brushed up on my Pitman shorthand, and sniffed out some true stories involving runners, all of which hit the news in this one average week of December. 

So, in time-honoured ITV style, here's today’s ‘Running News at Ten’:

Bong!
Nude runner wins appeal as judge rejects claims of ‘penile terrorism’!

Bong!
Emu volunteers to be a runner’s new training partner!

Bong!
Running in towns makes you stupid, says bonkers Daily Mail story!

Bong!
Policeman runner makes an arrest during training session!

Bong!
Marathon girl Morag gives lung cancer a run for its money!

Bong!
Drunken elephants go for a quick run in Siberia!

Bong!
Meet the man who’s a cross between Bear Grylls and Forrest Gump!

Bong!
Essex girl’s hamstrings are refusing to talk to her!

Good evening everyone……………

WELLINGTON, NEW ZEALAND: The right to go running in the nude has been upheld by a New Zealand court. Andrew Pointon was wearing only shoes on an early morning run in a forest when spotted by a woman walking her dog. She called police and Pointon was convicted of offensive behavior. He lodged an appeal, claiming: “If it was offensive, God wouldn't have given us genitals.” He said women were allowed to ride naked in a busy town during the recent ‘Boobs on Bikes’ event, but he’d been nabbed while naked in a remote area. The High Court judge sympathised and quashed his conviction. 

VIRGINIA, USA: A runner got more than he bargained for when setting off last week for a leisurely few miles in a quiet neighbourhood of Virginia Beach.  After a couple of miles he was suddenly joined by an emu, which ran happily alongside. The worried runner kept quiet and kept going, but passers-by became alarmed and called police. Animal control officers were called in and revealed that the emu was the pet of a local person and had drifted away from its home.

LONDON, UK:  Running in towns can make you go senile, according to university research highlighted in the Daily Mail. Studies showed people who exercise in urban areas have higher levels of mental decline and inflammation in their brains. Traffic pollution could significantly age the brains of over-50s. We must therefore conclude that running in towns can make you stupid - especially if you’re a Daily Mail reader!

GEORGIA, USA: The City of Dalton's Chief of Police Jason Parker set off for an enjoyable steady run recently, but it turned into an unplanned speed session when he found himself chasing a suspect. Chief Parker saw a man acting suspiciously and carrying items away from a residential premises. As he approached, the suspect began running, and when Parker shouted that he was a police officer, the man picked up the pace. It turned into quite a race, but eventually the officer’s fitness from regular running won the day. Fair cop, guv.

EAST SUSSEX, UK:  Last Christmas, Morag Murray was told she had lung cancer and 40% of her right lung had to be removed. A year later she is raising a glass with clubmates at Hastings Runners Club to toast many miles run and charity pounds raised since her major surgery. The 54-year-old was back up and running within months, completing the Hastings Half-Marathon. a 50-mile bike ride in Liverpool, traversing the three highest peaks in Yorkshire and the Great North Run. She puts her recovery down to the basic fitness achieved from her years of marathon running.

SIBERIA, RUSSIA:  Glugging down vast quantities of vodka and then going for a jog is not recommended procedure for serious runners, but it seems to have saved the lives of two Indian circus elephants. The truck in which they were being transported caught fire and was left stranded on a highway in the middle of freezing Siberia. Their handlers did the only thing they could think of, which was to give them two cases of vodka mixed with water and get them to run around a bit. Eventually help arrived and all have now arrived safely at their Omsk destination.

MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA:  These days your Clapped-Out Runner rarely runs for longer than 60 minutes – but Aussie Richard Bowles this week got back from a run lasting 60 days! Bowles became the first person to run the 3,054-kilometre Te Araroa Trail, which spans the entire length of New Zealand. It was no flash in the pan either, for earlier this year he was first to run the world’s longest marked trail, the rugged National Trail of Australia. The equivalent of 127 marathons, it took him 23 weeks.

And finally…………

ESSEX, UK: “My hamstrings are not speaking to me,” was the verdict of Harwich Runners’ star Becky McCorquodale at the end of the Waveney Valley Turkey Trot 10-miler in Beccles last weekend. Becky is on the comeback trail after a year out with a foot injury - and although her hamstrings are in a strop, she’s pleased to be “best buddies with the foot” this week!  Becky is sometimes known by the nickname ‘TomTom’, which was given to her after she got lost during one of the most straightforward cross-country routes known to mankind (“Someone mentioned cake”, was her only excuse!). 

* Rob Hadgraft’s five books on running are now also available as e-books for Kindle at just £4.99 each.   Use this link:   Rob Hadgraft's running books on Amazon
or  www.robhadgraft.com

My Top Ten 'Celebrity' Runners

Rocket Ronnie leads the way . . . 

EVER bumped into somebody famous when out on a run? 

Celebs often look completely different when exhausted and drenched in sweat, and therefore can pass largely unnoticed by spectators and fellow runners. For some of them, that's exactly how they like it. 

Below is my own Top Ten list of running celebrities, some of whom I’ve spotted in action, a couple I’ve even managed to overtake, and some who have probably passed me too!

1. Ronnie O’Sullivan 

The man hailed the most naturally-gifted snooker player in history admits he enjoys running more than his main sport - even though he’s been world champ five times. But Rocket Ronnie from Chigwell is no fun-runner. His victories include a five-miler in Epping and last year’s Lactic Rush adventure race. He’s also chalked up several high finishes in cross-country, including the murderous Essex championship race in Basildon, and boasts a road PB at 10k of 34:54. He gets his stamina from his Italian-born mum, who last year walked 192 miles for charity.

2. Nell McAndrew 

I’m not entirely sure why Nell (real name Tracey) is actually a celebrity. This former Leeds bank clerk looks a lot like Marilyn Monroe, so that could be something to do with it. But there’s no doubting her running ability. She’s proved her mettle over a number of years and in 2012 improved to a sensational 1:21.53 at the Bath Half-Marathon, followed by 2.54.39 at the Virgin London Marathon. There’s more to Nell than just good looks.

3. Paolo di Canio 

The mad ex-footballer doesn’t do anything by halves. After a colourful career that included knocking referees over, Paolo last year ran the Swindon Half-Marathon by mistake! The volatile Italian went along as official starter of the race and after firing the pistol headed off to join the two-mile fun-run for kids and beginners. However, after taking a wrong turn, he ended up running the entire 13.1 miles, wearing the heavy kit of Swindon Town FC, whom he now manages. Despite the cock-up, he managed an impressive 1:49 without stopping once. Two other footballers deserve recognition: Former Exeter City man Barry McConnell embarked on a charity run from John O'Groats to Lands End last year, with a fine marathon PB of 2:58 already under his belt. Sadly severe knee pain forced him to quit after 126 miles, near Inverness. Meanwhile, former Real Madrid and Barcelona star Luis Enrique – who beat the 3-hour mark at the Florence Marathon - had a successful crack at the vicious Marathon des Sables (151 miles across the desert) and is now said to be training for a 400 mile mountain bike epic.

4. Graham Gooch 

Cricket legend Goochie wins his place in my top ten – not for his batting ability or a successful hair transplant, but due to the fact that he is a ‘real’ runner. Over the years, he has quietly and without fuss entered all manner of races and fun-runs around Essex, enjoying some very respectable middle-of-the-pack performances. He’s a big bloke and perhaps not a natural distance-runner, but his attitude and work ethic couldn’t fail to impress. In his playing days he would often be seen training in Chelmsford’s Central Park, sometimes with reluctant teammates trailing behind.

5. Chris Boardman 

The best running displays by any cyclist are probably those of the disgraced Lance Armstrong (e.g. 2:46 at the New York Marathon), but in the light of recent events we can’t be sure exactly how they were achieved. Therefore, Chris Boardman MBE sails past Lance thanks largely to his splendid 3:19.27 at the 2009 London Marathon, achieved only months after he was diagnosed with osteopenia, the precursor to osteoporosis. It forced him out of cycling and is a condition normally afflicting middle-aged woman, but Chris tackled the problem full-on, saying: “Cycling is good for strengthening muscles, but does very little for bones. I need high-impact activity to strengthen my skeleton, so I run about 30 miles a week instead.”

6. Dr. Alan Turing 

The brainbox mathematician, celebrated as the founder of computer science and for his wartime heroics breaking the Enigma code, was also a brilliant runner. It was his escape from the stresses of work and of being gay in an era when such a thing was simply not accepted or tolerated. Turing would storm down country lanes like a rampant buffalo, eventually being enticed to join local club Walton AC soon after the war. He was ranked in Britain’s top ten and fell not far short of Olympic selection. At the 1947 AAA marathon at Loughborough he ran 2:46 to finish fifth and regularly ran six miles under 34 minutes.

7. Alastair Campbell 

The spin doctor and Burnley supporter is included to represent those politicians who take their running seriously. Although he couldn’t quite match the marathon time of 3:44.52 achieved by George Dubya Bush (Houston, 1993), Campbell gets the vote for overcoming the handicap of a body clearly not designed for distance work. He finished the 2003 London Marathon in 3:53.45 which, among other things, beats the 3:59.36 by US politician Sarah Palin at the amusingly-named Humpy’s Marathon in Anchorage, Alaska.

8. Joe Strummer 

Punk icon and main man in The Clash, Strummer could well be the unlikeliest marathon hero of our times. Back in 1982 he disappeared to Paris where he grew a beard and lived anonymously. Later, Strummer would claim he’d competed in the Paris Marathon with his girlfriend during this time (Your Clapped-Out Runner has raced in Paris and can confirm a degree of chaos and cheating is usually involved in mass participation events in this city!). Strummer said he didn’t do any training, apart from downing ten pints the night before the race and not running a single step in the four-week build-up. He urged fans not to try this method, as it would only work for him and the writer Hunter Thompson. His girlfriend came last in Paris, while Joe’s time and position remain unknown, although he would later be credited with a highly respectable 3:20 at the London Marathon of 1983 (allegedly). 

9. Hugh Laurie 

The talented and mega-rich actor wins a place in my top ten thanks mostly to the fact that I bumped into him (almost literally) when we were both on training runs in a chilly Regent’s Park a while ago. Hugh is an extremely big fellow and his progress was not quick by any stretch of the imagination. As we passed, our eyes met and he gave a weary flick of the eyebrows as if to say “Hard work isn’t it?” I thought about answering in the manner of Stephen Fry, but thankfully didn’t. Hugh has inherited stamina from a father who was a champion rower, but a speed merchant he is not. But he gets out and runs often, and told one interviewer: “I run six-to-eight miles a day, plus weights and aerobics in the lunch hour. I also lie a lot, which keeps me thin.”

10. Bjorn Ulvaeus of Abba 

Some celebs exaggerate their running exploits, some tell blatant porkies. But when Bjorn from Abba (the one with the chubby, non-bearded face) claims he did a marathon in 3:23.54 he’s not fibbing. There’s documentary and photographic evidence to prove it. Wearing headband and short dark socks, Bjorn cruised the 1980 Stockholm Marathon. Apparently he was persuaded to take part by insistent race sponsors Nike. Super Trouper indeed.

* Rob Hadgraft’s five books on running are now also available as e-books for Kindle at just £4.99 each.   Use this link:   Rob Hadgraft's running books on Amazon

Marathoners and triathletes urged to go steady!

Triathlons too wet for me, so I did the Mildenhall Duathlon instead!

IN the same week that East Anglia’s fittest woman Chrissie Wellington quit full-time sport, there was another scare story in the media about people who overdo exercise.

The two things were not related of course.  Chrissie was quitting purely to take up fresh challenges in her life, and not because she’s clapped-out from thousands of miles running and cycling. 

She announced on Monday she was retiring as a professional triathlete at the age of 35, bringing to an end an incredible career devoted entirely to the ‘Ironman’ discipline. She won Ironman world titles four times, remaining unbeaten at the distance and clocking the four fastest female times on record.  Not bad for an ordinary working-class girl who grew up in the sticks (that’s ‘boondocks’ for any American readers, and ‘Back o’Bourke’ for any Aussies).

She went to school in the unremarkable little town of Downham Market, and lived in the even less remarkable village of Feltwell.  In recent years the only time I’ve had occasion to visit those two places was in the wee small hours, towards the end of the annual Round Norfolk Relay. Being weary and irritable from lack of sleep, I barely noticed them at all, let alone looked upon them as places where an elite endurance athlete was made.

Being a bit of a ’townie’ myself, it’s tempting to suggest that growing up in a quiet place like Feltwell would be enough to prompt anyone to run/cycle as far away and as quickly as possible. But that would be out of order. I’m sure Feltwell is a very interesting place. For example, here’s an interesting fact about Feltwell:  It’s village school headmaster for 20 years was called Mr. Don Feltwell. Yes, really!

If you don’t believe me, ask Chrissie Wellington, because he used to teach her!  And Mr Feltwell had other star pupils too, including TV weatherman Jim Bacon and two members of Katrina and the Waves.  I told you Feltwell was quite interesting, didn’t I?

And there’s more. Mr Feltwell of Feltwell was a wireless operator during the Suez crisis who played football for the likes of Downham Town FC into his late 40s. And when his school opened its new swimming pool he showed he was no ordinary headmaster by leaping in fully clothed to entertain the assembled crowd.  Dull in Norfolk? You must be kidding.

But I digress.  The main topic of this week’s blog was supposed to be those scare stories mentioned earlier about the effects of intense exercise - i.e. the sort of thing Chrissie Wellington did every day until last Monday.

According to the report published by a group of cardiologists, fitness fanatics should restrict themselves to only the odd one or two marathons or full-distance triathlons in their life-time, because over-exerting the heart for years can lead to long-term damage.

They reckoned repeatedly asking the heart to pump massive volumes of blood can lead to an array of problems - overstretching the organ’s chambers, thickening of its walls and changes to electrical signalling. These could trigger dangerous rhythm problems.

Their warnings were directed at those of us who exercise hard for long periods, often repeating their training programmes over many years. They cited the example of ultra-runner Micah True, the hero of the 2009 book Born to Run by Christopher MacDougall. Micah died earlier this year in the USA aged 58, collapsing during a 12-mile run on a remote trail, his body undiscovered for several days. Micah routinely ran a marathon a day, sometimes more. An autopsy revealed heart problems, although it was not immediately clear whether this was genetic, or whether his extreme training did the damage.

The cardiologists insisted that most people should limit vigorous exercise to 30 to 50 minutes per day, only tackle the odd marathon or two, and then proceed to “safer and healthier exercise patterns.”

Many news outlets ran the story, and, predictably, it was not universally well received. Ultra-runner John Storkamp, one of my 'Facebook friends’, responded angrily:

“And what oppressive tax shall be levied on our spirit should we become stagnant and quit running out of fear? Running is one of the most natural acts most people will ever do. My dad gave me this article and said it was very interesting.  No, it’s bullshit!  Even if it were true, it’s bullshit and a waste of paper and ink. Don't they have anything better to do with their time? When the time comes, I’ll be happy to run into the woods, have a heart attack, die doing something I love and will be honored when the ravens, turkey-vultures, hawks and eagles pick my bones clean so I am reincarnated in all of nature. The other alternative is to quit running, get old and sick in a nursing home and die a long, drawn-out, painful death. ”

Basically the cardiologists want mileage freaks to become more moderate and circumspect.  But I’m sure I’m not the only ordinary club runner who has many friends and colleagues unable to stick to ‘moderate’ levels of competition and exercise. These people need new challenges and new adventures so they can stretch themselves to the limit.  Ageing and injury are just occupational hazards.

In the case of your Clapped-Out Runner, my marathon days seem to be long gone thanks to knee trouble.  Runs of around one hour – and not too many of them – are my maximum these days.

And my pitiful efforts over the years in the swimming pool have always ensured I’d never be able to complete a full triathlon. Way back in 1989 I did manage a desperate 25 metres at a pool in Stowmarket. The sheer bizarre spectacle of it stopped everyone else in their tracks and led to huge cheers when I finally smashed into the far wall. I wasn’t able to join the celebrations due to my innards being full of chlorinated water instead of oxygen. I had simply been too low in the water to breathe for the entire 25-metre journey!

My claims about having ‘heavy bones’ and ‘dense muscles’ and therefore a seriously-compromised buoyancy have always raised a laugh. But I’m sure there must be others out there who have the same genuine excuse? Aren’t there?

* Rob Hadgraft’s five books on running now also available as e-books for Kindle at just £4.99 each.  Go to:   Rob Hadgraft's running books on Amazon