“One thing about living in Santa Carla I never could stomach; all the damn vampires”

Grandpa, The Lost Boys

Hold on, this one’s going to be a rollercoaster. Week 9. The first (and hopefully only) week where I won’t be able to run at all on the weekend.

Instead, this weekend I will be London. As the football (soccer to my US friends) team I support have got themselves to a Cup Final. So I’m off to the home of Football Cup Finals, Wembley Stadium, to attend it on Sunday.

Reasons for celebration? Not really. The team I support, who’ve I’ve been going to watch every week since I was 7, are always the Bridesmaid and never the Bride. They are also going to be in the Final against arguably the best team in Europe at the moment.

In short, they’re probably going to get a hiding. I expect them to get a hiding. They will get a hiding. But if you don’t have hope, what do you have?

So from Saturday morning when I board the train, to Monday evening when I return, I’ll be dealing with this highly probable outcome in the only way I know. I’ll be drinking copious amounts of alcohol.

So, no big run on the weekend. Instead, my week will look like this:

• Monday – Core Strength (rest day)
• Tuesday – Club Speed Session with 5 mile warm up
• Wednesday – 6 mile easy
• Thursday – 4 mile easy with 10 hill reps
• Friday – 22 mile long run
• Saturday – Drink heavily
• Sunday – Drink heavily, watch Newcastle get stuffed, drink even heavier.

Elite athlete stuff, I think you’ll agree. Weather Klaxon – our mild weather was nothing but a tease. The temperature is due to drop a few degrees, and it’s going to rain most of the week. Fanfuckintastic.

Monday, we Yoga and we Weight train. I’m creaking but I’m ok. It looks like my left knee is going to grumble at me till the end of this process. As long as it stays as a grumble, it’s all good.

The weather has done as predicted. It’s noticeably colder, the wind is rolling off the sea and it’s bitter. I begrudgingly get the base layer out for Tuesday, but refuse to bring back the leggings. That’s accepting defeat.

It’s a Track session that evening, Broken Miles. The last few Tuesday warm ups have been shit, so I take up the offer of meeting three other guys from the Club who are Marathon training, to get them done together. This is just what I needed. The 5 miles fly by, as we chat shit like some sort of victim support group.

The Broken Miles session is a bit of a killer on paper. Then again, aren’t they all. It’s 1200m at 10k pace, 200 jog, 400m 5k pace, rest for 2 mins, then do it 3 more times. I’m tired just reading it.

However, this ends up being my best track session in weeks. I’m in a small group of 6 and we stay tight and at a good pace. By the end, myself and another of the Marathon guys I warmed up with are flying at the front. We both pass comment on this afterwards, that despite the tiredness and the intensity, our fitness and endurance levels have definitely gone up. It’s a great shot in the arm mentally that 8 weeks of graft seems be paying off.

On Tuesday evening, my wife asks if I’ve remembered that tomorrow night I promised to attend a meeting at the school about a trip my daughter is going on. ‘Oh yes, no problem’ I reply. Shit. I’d forgotten.

I don’t fancy running early on Wednesday, I’ll still be knackered from the night before. And by the time I get back from the school and get my shit together, it’ll be late. So the answer is, a lunchtime run.

The shit weather this week is now well and truly set in. The sea continues to shit in cold rain and hail with a strongish wind. Wednesday morning is biblical at times.

Lunchtime though, the clouds part and blue skies appear. It is still windy, and I don’t trust it as far as I can chuck it, so I go out ready for rain. But it doesn’t rain, and 3 miles in I’m feeling too hot. That’ll learn me.

I’m also very leggy. Once again though, I’m pushing through it. I’m tired, but there isn’t even a small part of me that thinks I’m going to stop. An ‘easy’ 6 miles completed.

I go to the meeting at the school in the evening, which is as you expect, but the funniest part is that they are banning mobile phones completely from the trip. I very much enjoy relaying this information to my teenage daughter when I get back. I’m such a bastard sometimes.

As I’m going long Friday, Thursday I’m dropping the Intervals. Can’t say I’m devastated. Instead, it’s 4 miles with the hill reps, and I’m going out first thing.

My luck runs out in regard to avoiding the crap weather. I get caught in a shower and, despite being layered up and wearing a beanie and gloves, I’m cold. It’s done though, and I’ve got 24 hours to rest before the 22 miler.

I’m expecting it to rain and not be the warmest Friday morning, but the winds are predicted to be quite light. ‘Gentle’ the BBC describes them as. This is good, as it’s the wind that is the real cause of the cold at the moment. The route I have planned also heads North along the coast for over 8 miles. I really, really don’t fancy running into a shite, cold head wind for that long.

The signs are good when I get up. The cat comes back in dry from his night of debauchery, so it isn’t raining. He’s usually my first weather barometer while I’m still half asleep and bereft of coffee.

It’s a totally different route to normal for my long runs, and I’ve got a little bit of trepidation about it. The first 8 and a half miles I’m basically killing miles – heading inland before dropping down to the coast. There is method to this madness.

As I’m running on a Friday morning, traffic will be much heavier than the weekend. The commute and schools basically. So my usual route is a no-no. The idea is to eat up miles 1-8 inland before it gets busy, then the last 14 miles (Jesus!) will be all along the coast, no roads to cross, nice and safe.

The first 8 go well. There is quite a bit of climb in this run, especially at the start, but I find hills quite easy when I haven’t got Club Coaches making me sprint up the bastards.

The key part of this run is the coast. If the weather is crap, this can be unforgiven. There is no shelter from the wind, rain, sun, or any elements this planet wants to chuck at you. You are completely exposed to all of them. Which is why I try to avoid it.

There is a slight northerly wind once I hit the coast, but it’s very bearable. It’s a little cold, but I’m not suffering in it. I head up the coast, through Cullercoats, Whitley Bay, Seaton Sluice, then through the Dune path to Blyth.

It’s quite nice going up the Dune path. When I first got into running, I used to drive here to run, because I was self conscious about running round my local neighbourhood. I feel a bit of nostalgia on this part, reminding me of how far I’ve come since the days of plodding round here trying to work up to 10k.

I reach the Bandstand at Blyth at mile 17 and turn. Whatever wind there is, it’s now behind me. About a mile later, I feel that wind suddenly get stronger, followed by a hail storm. Usually, at this point, I’d be shouting ‘FUCK MY LIFE’, but I’m feeling glass half full and am thankful it held off till I’d turned. Running into it would have been soul destroying.

Mile 19-20 we have to climb, but it’s a climb I’ve done countless times before. I’m actually feeling quite strong, and I up the pace. Once I get up the hill and hit mile 20, I know I’m going to finish.

My mile 21 is an 8:56, which was probably stupid when I look back. I drop onto the Prom for the final mile and tiredness is setting in a bit, but I don’t feel wrecked or like I want to stop. My final mile is a 9:06, again too fast, and I end on 22.2 miles in 3:30:20.

I’m delighted. I’m also not completely spent. Could I do another 3.8 mile? I think I probably could. The training is paying off, and this is allegedly the longest run I will have to do as part of the training. Although there are still 20 and 21 mile runs pencilled in the plan over the next couple of weeks.

Job done, and now for 3 days ‘rest’. I’m posting this early on the Friday evening, before I head to London and forget about the running till Tuesday.

Did Newcastle win the Cup Final? Find out in next week’s blog. Or Google it. The answer is probably no though.

Mood: Resigned