Fail better

On 29 April I will be running the Greater Manchester Marathon to raise money for Sue Ryder. Sponsor me now!


Sometimes you wonder exactly how it was you came to be somewhere. So it was one Sunday morning last July, when I found myself halfway up a hill in the Lake District, sprawled on the ground in agony, watching the legs of hundreds of super fit, lycra-clad marathon runners go by. In theory we were part of the same event. But under-prepared, under-hydrated and now under their feet, I realised I had no place among these people.

I can’t remember why a Lake District marathon ever seemed a good idea in the first place. I think I had this idea that the magnificence of the scenery would somehow offset the unpleasantness of running up mountains. Well, it didn’t. The first few miles weren’t so bad, but as the climbs began to get fiercer, my nervous system starting asking my knees some pointed questions. My knees - never ones to take criticism lying down - argued back. A couple of miles later, there was a major falling out. From that point on I couldn’t walk, let alone run.

I finally limped home around two hours outside my target time. The crowds of cheering supporters were long gone, the last of the catering vans slowly driving off into the distance. I think perhaps one or two curious sheep were there to watch me stagger over the fading mark in the ground where the finishing line had been. Still, I learned a lot about myself that day. For one, I learned I that I am not a very good runner.

So why, a year later, am I doing it all again? It’s not like I’m going to set the world of athletics on fire - shuffling along wheezily in my baggy old tracksuit, hobnob crumbling in my pocket, Radio 4 babbling away benignly in my battered old earphones. In fact, when I see bright young things striding down the street in their shiny tight gear, guzzling energy drinks and listening to Skrillex, I don’t see kindred spirits, I see an alien species. And when I see people like this guy I feel deeply impressed, and envious, but mainly I just feel exhausted.

No, the best I can hope for is to fail better. But the cold fact is, somehow I need to get fit enough to run 26 miles by 29 April. Madness - particularly as the only way to do it is to go outside, where it’s freezing. At the moment I can just about manage eight or nine miles before collapsing on my doorstep in a dishevelled heap. This makes my target time of four hours – unremarkable to most marathon runners – rather ambitious. Improbable, even. In just two months I have to somehow run three times further than I can manage now, at a much faster pace. I think my best hope may be to bring in a stunt double. Cheat. Cheat better.

I’ve tried to give myself a chance this time, so I’ve entered the Greater Manchester Marathon. In stark contrast to the Lake District, it takes place across the borough of Trafford, which makes Holland look like Nepal. In fact it promises to be quite the dullest, most featureless route imaginable. All I can say is that it better live up to that promise. What’s more it starts and finishes in my local park, so there’s at least a chance of making it in for work on time the next day. If it was a couple of streets further away I may not have bothered, to be honest.

So what’s it all for? I’m really not sure. The health benefits are highly questionable, at least the way I do it. And my girlfriend certainly can’t see much good in my disappearing for hours on end, leaving her to cope with our young family. Some good has to come of it all, though, so I’m asking people to sponsor me for the charity I work for, Sue Ryder. I’m not going to set a financial target for myself. My role in the organisation is to raise money for our projects, so I have quite enough of fundraising targets with the day job, thank you very much. But to make it interesting I’m willing to undergo a forfeit if I don’t achieve my target time. I’m open to suggestions about what it should be. Perhaps I should pay back all my sponsors from my own money. Maybe I could get a tattoo of Lady Sue Ryder. Any ideas, let me know.

I’ll be talking a bit about Sue Ryder in each post – about some of ways we help people and why you should support this great charity. Mostly, though, I’ll be using this as an excuse to bang on about myself and anything inconsequential that enters my mind. So perhaps I’ll talk about what it’s like working from home, things I think about when I’m running, the joys of running around South Manchester, or about how marathons can tear a happy family apart. I’ll try to stay vaguely on topic. But the one thing I’m not going to bore you with is the ins and outs of my training plan - partly because it’s boring but mostly because I don’t have one. Yep, still. Hmm, I think maybe I should check out those running websites...

Fitness: 3
Confidence: 4
Fundraising: 0
Days to go: 68
Chance of hitting target: 24%

While I was running I listened to: Django Django by Django Django. The insistent, urgent rhythms of these insidious songs seemed to almost physically propel me forward, making this album an ideal jogging soundtrack (though I suggest anyone who wants to write about it should copy and paste the word Django to save themselves time).