2024

The 2024 Christmas Special

notbuilttorun, , , , , Leave a comment

”You sit on a throne of lies!”
Buddy Elf, Elf

Let’s start by getting straight in and addressing the Elephant in the room. A Christmas advert so bad, I want to rip out my eyes and shove them in my ears. No, not that one. Friggin Morrisons.

Morrisons, with their shite oven glove puppets that would have Jim Hensen weeping. Shite oven glove puppets murdering one of the greatest movie songs of all time. And when I say murder, I’m talking the kind of murders they’d do in medieval times. Like, proper brutal shit. Not only that, it’s also butchered part of my childhood. Scott Baio would be rolling in his grave. If he was dead.

Anyway, now we’ve got that out the way, it’s time for the Christmas Special. I’m here to spread festive cheer and review my running year. So pop another log on the fire, have yet another day drink that has you half pissed by mid afternoon, and let’s get stuck in.

I’d not be overstating things when I say 2024 has been my best running year ever. I’d be staggered if I ever have a better one. I would never have thought it back in January, when I was put kicking and screaming by the club coaches into the group above. So the faster, more intense one.

For 6 weeks I hung off the back of that group, cursing the coaches who put me here, and wondering where the enjoyment had gone. Then, it suddenly clicked. I was keeping up. I pushed through to survivor mode.

For a few months though, I was knackered. Despite the fact I was being coached in endurance, my long runs were going to shit. Slow and ploddy. Everything was an effort. Was the extra intensity improving my running, or had I taken on too much?

There were some signs of improvement early doors however. At the end of February the club organised a 5k Time Trial to see where we were all at. I went balls to the wall and ran the fastest 5k of my life – a 23:40. I then went on holiday to Greece in May, drank a shit load of Mythos, and ran a 10k PB in a race less than 3 hours after landing back in the country. Who said my days of fast times had gone? Well, I did.

Then, during the summer, I popped out one morning for my usual long weekend run. A 10 miler on a route I’ve been doing for years. No expectations, no real plan, just plod round it as normal. I set off and I felt good. I felt loose. I felt..fast. But the biggest change was how I felt as the run went on. Rather than get tired out, I felt stronger the longer it got.

When I was done I felt great, but only in a good run kind of way. When I uploaded it on Strava however, it announced a 10 miler PB. By a couple of minutes as well. Interesting.

Suddenly, I was very aware of my speed and times. Both in Club Sessions and when running on my own. I was definitely getting faster. I was comfortably staying in the pack at club, and felt really strong on my long runs.

I’ve never been one of those runners who really cares much about times. Certainly not improving times. I’ve always entered into races etc with goal times. As in, ‘it would be nice to come in under 2 hours’ and so on. Suddenly though, I’m very self aware that they are improving.

As part of that, I started taking a keen interest in my Half Marathon PB. Sitting at 1:53, I noted that my current 10 mile pace would easily knock a couple of minutes off that. I just need to hold that pace for another 5k. Easier said than done.

A month before the Great North Run, I head out to complete the Half Marathon distance as a training run. Usually this is a ‘let’s see where I’m at’ run, as well as an attempt to mentally reassure myself that I can complete the 13.1 miles comfortably.

It’s another comfortable long run, and I realise it’s going to be quick. I hit an 8:25 pace, with a 1:50:31 finish. Just 6 months earlier, I was parring around 1:54.

30 seconds plus change off dipping under 1:50 for the first time in my life. It’s far too tempting to not take a shot at. But not at the GNR. I already had a plan for that, and that was a no pressure run I wanted to enjoy. Which I did.

Fast forward to the middle of October, and I’m ready to make my move. I’ve already worked out that I just need an 8:23 pace to hit my goal. I’m going to be doing something I never do – keep an eye on my pace.

As there is no wind, the plan is to head 6.5 miles directly North on the coast, then turn. When I do turn, my pace is well on track and I feel great. Is this really on? Well, yes it is. I don’t fade at all second half of the run. In fact, I get quicker.

At 11 mile I know I’m going to do it. I’ve never had that confidence before with my running. It’s a great feeling on the last mile knowing this has gone to plan. I finish with an 8:19 pace and bag a 1:49:23 finish. I’ve broken the back off 1:50. After 15 years of trying, I’m in the 1:40 club. I’m absolutely delighted.

We’re not finished there though. In November and December the PBs keep tumbling. At the Club Grand Prix I run my fastest even 5k, first time under 23 mins, recording a 22:57. A month later in the next Grand Prix, I do it again. This time a 22:33.

And as I wrote about in my last blog, at the Brampton to Carlisle 10 mile Road Race I break my 10k and 10 mile PBs. Its official, 2024 has been undoubtedly my greatest running year ever.

It almost feels a bit different this year going through the goals I set in January. Usually, it’s self deprecating with tongue firmly in cheek. This year though. Anyway, let’s take a look at that list..

  • Run 1,000 miles – Another year, another 1,000 plus in the bank. It’s also another record year. As I write this with a week of the year left, I’m on 1,500.
  • Run a Half Marathon – I’ve waffled on about my Half Marathon journey already in this post. I did run two official races at the distance. The Great North Run, which I really enjoyed and reviewed, was the main one. I did also run the Newcastle Half in July. This was a new race to me, and I only signed up to pace someone else. I got them to a 2:10 PB, so a very satisfying run. I’d like a proper crack at it, so it’s on my radar for 2025.
  • Run the Brampton to Carlisle 10 miler – I certainly did, and it didn’t disappoint. Piss up and PBs. I’ll be on the bus in 2025.
  • Race in the Club Grand Prix – I missed the first one, the 10k race, as I was away on holiday. However, the other three Pre-Christmas races I’ve completed and am currently on a 5k PB run. 23:27, 22:57, and a 22:33. I expect this will level off for the remaining four Post-Christmas.
  • Run on Holiday – This year I’ve been lucky enough to run round Zante, Warsaw, Edinburgh, and Shropshire. I continue to make no apologies for this.
  • Yoga Everyday – Now this one has been an underrated gem. I’ve managed to do at least 15 mins a day, every day. I really think it’s made a huge difference. It’s helping with recovery, I feel more loose, less stiff, and I’ve had no noticeable niggles for the first year in donkeys. I can’t recommend this to fellow runners enough.

Phew. There we have it. What a year. Back in January when I set these original targets, I never would have envisioned achieving even half of what I have. 2025 is either going to be interesting, or a bit of a damp squib. To be honest, I’ll just be happy to keep enjoying it.

So, Merry Christmas, however you do or don’t celebrate it. I’m cracking open a cold one and eyeing up those Brooks in the sale..

See you in 2025.

Running in Warsaw

notbuilttorun, , , , Leave a comment

“My mother used to say: The older you get, the better you get. Unless you’re a banana.”
Rose, The Golden Girls

I’ve confessed in the past on here to being one of those sad sacks who takes his running gear with him when travelling. I’ve gone for multiple runs in Spain and Greece. I nearly even once entered the Zante Half Marathon whilst on a family holiday. I didn’t in the end, after my wife persuaded me not to. The kind of persuasion that involves violence and the loss of my bollocks.

In hindsight, I’m quite glad I was ‘talked’ out of that one. It seemed like a good idea on paper. But as I lay by the pool under clear blue skies, with the Temperature hitting the late 20s, I realised it was inactuality a proper shit idea. So, I ordered another cold Mythos and gave myself a cheers to celebrate my testicles still being attached to my body.

Since changing my job a couple of years back, I now from time to time get out and about on Office visits around the country. Or as my wife calls them, massive fucking jollies. As such, I’ve also added Edinburgh, Glasgow and London to my running locations. Hardly Kenya or Boston, but still not bad for a pleb who grew up in North Shields. 

So as soon as I was told I’d be visiting my colleagues in the Warsaw Office in Poland, I had Google Maps open, the Measure Distance tool activated, and a pair of Brooks packed in a suitcase before you could say Dziękuję.

So, fast forward to a Sunday morning in September. I’m sitting in the Departure Lounge Bar of Newcastle Airport, supping a cold Guiness and listening to a Hen Do in the corner, all of whom are already half wankered by 8am and murdering ‘Toxic’ by Britney Spears. Makes you proud to be British. 

As I live in the North East of England, a 3rd World country to those living in London, I can’t get a direct flight to Warsaw. I have to catch a connection. Thankfully, work have organised me to go via Amsterdam, rather than Heathrow. That place turns your snot black. Once in the Dam (well, Schiphol Airport) I meet up with two of my colleagues and we’re off to Poland.

First interesting cultural observation. The Poles like to clap when their plane lands. I’m not sure why. I ask my hosts later in the week, but whilst they admit it’s a thing, they don’t really know why either. One thing I’ve learnt from working with these guys over the years, they have a cracking sense of humour. My guess is the clapping is a rib. They don’t do it for any other reason than to confuse us all. Fair play to them.

I won’t lie, my hotel is cracking. Right in the centre of the Warsaw Corporate district, on al.Jana Pawla II. Which translates as John Paul II Avenue. His Popeness himself. As a product of a 90s Catholic school education system, JP was my Pope. We had a signed photo of him in our Assembly Hall, which I used to find equally amusing and disturbing. I’ve massively denounced my Catholicism as an adult, but he was a cracking keeper, so fair play to him

The plan is to get up early pre-breakfast and run whilst it’s quiet. I’m bang in the middle of a capital city, so I want to try and avoid heavy traffic and those pesky pedestrians. I find out from this first run that only one of these things will be true. Sunday evening is spent on a short stroll with Colleagues and a quick bite to eat, before an early night.

Monday morning I’m up, out, and ready to run for 5:45am. I used to be cool. One bonus for this week is the weather. We’re in the last week of September, but the forecast is for it to be around 23-25°C every day for the duration. Which means at this time in the morning it’s already a balmy 13°C, dry and calm. It’s a perfect morning for running.

Thanks to Google Maps (this is twice I’ve praised them in this post, if they want to sponsor me) I note that there is a park about 200 metres from my hotel. Then another 200 metres from that is an even bigger park and what looks like a Public Square. These seem like a good starting point to explore. Safe, close, and I can’t get lost. 

I start my run in the Park and already something that will become a theme of my trip here is obvious. It’s really clean. No rubbish. It’s spotless. This Park turns out to be called the Mier Park (or Mirowski in Polish). I run straight up the middle of it from one end to the other and there’s no one about apart from a few hardy dog walkers. It isn’t quiet though. The row of trees above me are full of crows and they are going ape shit. Like, Hitchcock film crackers.

I notice on the ground in various places there are Metal markings with writing on. It’s too dark to read exactly what they say, but when I return to have a walk around here later in the daylight, I’m shocked to discover these are boundary markers for the Jewish Ghetto. 

Ghetto Wall Boundary Markers

Another recurring theme of the week, this is a beautiful city with a brutal past. Here I am running round a charming park that just over 80 years ago was hell on earth. It makes you think, it makes you humble.

The Park isn’t big, so I’m out of it quite quickly. There is a main road between this and the next park. And I mean a main road. Four lanes of traffic and two lanes of Tram. My Polish colleagues warned me on their visit to the UK that crossing the road on a red is death by Firing Squad over here. Or something. So I don’t fuck about and stop and wait.

This next Park is even more spectacular. This is the Saxon Gardens, the oldest park in Warsaw. Again it’s clean and it’s lined with magnificent Horse Chestnut Trees. There are Conkers everywhere, so many that I can’t avoid them and I end up crunching them underfoot. It breaks my heart.

I pass a substantial fountain and then, something very random appears. It’s the tomb of the unknown solider. It’s just gone 6am, yet there are two guards standing over it. Turns out, it’s guarded 24 hours, with a change of shift on the hour. Bet everyone loves getting the 4am shift in the middle of pissing rain in January. It is a magnificent sight though.

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier

I pass it, very respectfully, as I’m aware there are two tooled up Poles just a few feet from me. Once I am past it, I’m onto a big square. This, it turns out, is the sight of the Saxon Palace. Another theme here, a once fantastic Warsaw landmark flattened by those bastard Nazis and Russians.

I do a couple of laps or so of this, then head back the same way I came to the Hotel. 3.5 miles without wandering too far, perfect conditions, and already some great sightseeing.

After a great day at work (no, really) and a nice wander about the modern part of the city after, I plot the next day’s run back at the hotel. Now I feel like I have my bearings, I’m more confident about going out further without getting lost.

I discover that I can go the same way I did on the first day, continue on a little bit further when I get to the Square, and I’ll be on to the Vistula River. There and back, 4 mile. Very doable.

Next morning, I’m again up and out for 5:40am. Seriously man. It’s the same as yesterday, the two lovely parks and onto the Square/site of the Palace. This time though, I continue straight over, and suddenly it’s a sharp down hill (uh-oh) as we head to the River.

The Warsaw University campus is down here, but it’s dead. It is 6am though. Only complete idiots are down here at this time. I’m on to the Riverside, run along it a short while till I hit 2 miles, then turn for home. I stop to take a photo before heading back. The sun is starting to rise and it’s a lovely sight looking East. I spot what looks like a Stadium over the other side of the River. More on that when we get to Thursday.

Vistula River sunrise.

Unfortunately, what goes down, must come up, and the climb back from the River to the town is steeper than I thought. It’s tough going. On the plus side, another 4 mile , and I’ve earned my Hotel breakfast.

That evening we venture into the Old Town. Basically, the tiny part of Warsaw those bastard Nazis again didn’t destroy during the Uprising. It’s a beautiful part of the City, but again, tinged with a horrible past. It seems like every building I look at has a plaque on it, marking the spot the bastard Nazis rounded up Poles to shoot them.

The Old Town itself is also quite near the Square/Palace, reachable on a run from my Hotel, so I decide this will be where I head on Wednesday morning.

It’s 5:40am again, it’s another lovely morning, and I’m through the two Parks and over the Square. I’m practically a local now. A left at the Square and I’m into the Old Town. I just do a loop of it, but make sure I run along the old defensive wall. To think, again, that the Poles were defending this for their lives 80 years ago, is difficult to comprehend or even do justice.

The Old Town Walls

Another nice run, another 4 miles. Another well earned Breakfast. Although they don’t seem to do Bananas in Poland.

That night, my hosts take me to a traditional Communist Cuisine restaurant. I have the Cabbage and Mushroom Dumplings, and immediately get the urge to overthrow the Government. Once that settles, it’s back to my Capitalist Hotel and plotting the next mornings run.

I mentioned that on my run down to the river, I spotted what looked like a Stadium on the other side. It’s the Stadion Narodowy, Polands national stadium. Home of the National football team and apparently, among other things, Taylor Swift concerts.

It’s also not as far away as I think. Same route down to the river as Tuesday, then over the river on a Pedestrian Bridge, before a straight road to the Stadium. 3 mile, a 6 mile round trip.

As luck would have it, on my final day there is no rush to get out and back. I’m not going into the office, as I’m leaving late morning for the airport. So loads of time to fit a 10k in.

Having said that, I’m up and out again for the usual 5:45am. The struggle is real though, as I may have sampled a few of the local beers the night before. I’ll sleep on the plane(s).

So, same drill as Tuesday, Parks, Square, drop down, past the Uni and onto the River. This time however, once on the River I take a left towards the Bridge. This is quite a new bridge (opened March 2024, only 6 months prior). It doesn’t even appear on Google Maps as it wasn’t built yet. My Strava afterwards will also ignore it, looking to all like I just catapulted myself across. Just to prove it exists, I took a photo whilst on it, looking back towards the City. Lovely.

Bridge looking back South to the City

Once over, I take a right and follow quite a busy dual carriageway. The morning commute is already in full swing and the roads are as busy as you’d expect for a Capital city. It’s pretty unremarkable however, until I suddenly hit the Stadium.

The Stadion Narodowy

It is quite a spectacular site. I stop to take a picture, but I can’t really get that close to it. It’s fenced off with a gate open, so I’m not sure if I’m allowed to go in. I have a rule when it comes to these things – if I’m in a country where the police are armed, don’t fuck about and find out. With that, I turn and head back, following the exact route out. 6 mile.

And there we have it. 17.5 miles over 4 days. I was here for work, not as a tourist, yet thanks to running I’ve been able to explore a good chunk of it I otherwise wouldn’t have been able to. It’s been a productive trip work wise, but packing my running shoes has added another dimension. Thanks Warsaw, I will be back.

Just as a finishing footnote, I am back on Social Media. No, not that one, but Bluesky. It might be great, it might be shite, but at least it isn’t the cesspool that is the other place. You can now follow me here, if it’s your thang.

Hopes and Expectations

notbuilttorun, , , Leave a comment

‘Are you crying? Are you crying? ARE YOU CRYING? There’s no crying! THERE’S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL!’

Jimmy Dugan, A League of Their Own

Last year’s post where I set my goals for 2023 got pretty deep and philosophical. You’ll be thankful to know there’ll be no such soppy nonsense this year. No, there’s no pissing about this year. After last years queuing up of Draft Posts I never published, this is New Year, New Me hun.

This year I’ve got a real dilemma. 2023 was an excellent year for my running, debatably my best. There is a danger I’ll fill 2024 with the kind of unrealistic bollocks that will take out the enjoyment, whilst setting me up to fail. I mean, where is the motivation in that?

No, this year we’re not going to be setting any high bars. We’re going to limbo into 2024, oiled up, bar on fire, with Cascada’s ‘Evacuate the Dancefloor’ blasting out. Or was that a dream I once had. It doesn’t really matter, the point is – Hopes and Expectations. Things I know are achievable, things I can look forward to doing with no pressure. No running up Mountains, across Deserts, and most importantly of all – no fucking Cross Country.

I give you then, drum roll please, the goals of 2024..

  • Run 1,000 miles – Having hit just shy of 1,400 in 2023, it would be tempting to have a go at 1,500 in 2024. I tried to work out how much more I would need to do per month to hit that. I think I worked out I would need to add on 12 miles a month. It doesn’t sound too much – break it down some more and it’s 3 more miles a week. But you know the problem? I can’t be arsed.
  • Run a Half Marathon – As I write, I’m yet to sign up for a Half Marathon. Shocking. I’m not sure why to be honest. I’ve usually got my Charity GNR place by now, but for some reason I’ve just not got round to it. I’m sure I will, let’s just wait for payday (£65 for place in the GNR, scandalous). I’m also flirting with Kielder again, but it went so well last year I worried that it will be shit and I’ll hate it if I do it again.
  • Run the Brampton to Carlisle 10 miler – The alternative to running a second Half Marathon, is to run this 10 mile race held in November. This one is very tempting, and I nearly did it last year, but was still half dead from Kielder. There are loads of pluses to this race. It’s a new run for me, it’s 10 miles rather than 13, my running club organise a bus there and back, my running club usually go to the pub straight after. I think I’ve probably already talked myself into this one if I’m honest.
  • Race in the Club Grand Prix – When I first found out my Running Club organised a Grand Prix every year, I was well up for it. Racing round the track at 200mph in a top of the range F1 car, what isn’t to like? Apparently, it’s not that kind of Grand Prix. 8 races run monthly from August to March, this is a well oiled machine of a competition where you compete in Teams of 8 and are handicapped based on your last result. The idea is that everyone finishes at about the same time, with the ‘slower’ runners released first, then the ‘faster’ ones let out to hunt everyone down last. I’m halfway through this years and I’ve enjoyed it far more than I thought. For those wanting to know, my Handicap is that I’m short and fat.
  • Run on Holiday – In May, I’m off to Zante. No, not Laganas for those of you who know it. I’m far too old for that nonsense. I’ve been to this resort a few times before, but not for a few years. Having successfully ran in Menorca twice, I’ve decided to do the same again in Greece. Well, that’s the plan. Mythos and Moussaka might kill the shit out of it. Just to add to this, I now travel with work (get me) and have been ramming my running gear into my overnight bag. Last year I got out for morning runs in London and Glasgow. I’m possibly, fingers crossed, off to Warsaw with work this year. If I do, you’ve guessed it, Google Maps and finding room for my Trainers…
  • Yoga Everyday – I’m not getting any younger. I creek. I make noises when I have to bend over to pick something up. Not just bone or joint noises, but noises with my mouth, like the noises my daughter used to make when she was a toddler and trying to concentrate on something. During the Pandemic I did what a lot of people did because they were bored and had too much time on their hands, I tried something new. My something new was Yoga. At first I was like Bambi on Ice, or Shola Ameobi if you ever saw him play (love you Shola). Once I got the hang of it though, I really saw the benefits. One of which was that I was far less sore, creeky, and injured. Now I’m not saying I don’t click like a snapped twig every time I reach for something in the cupboard, but it has definitely helped. Since then, I’ve tried to do Yoga as much as possible. So I’ve decided 2024 is the year of doing a bit every day. I’ll be like Stretch Armstrong by June. Ask your Dad.

Aaaaaaand we’re done. All very positive, all very achievable. Maybe not the Yoga, but God loves a trier.

2024, I am in you.