I'm beginning to get the familiar, almost comforting, sense of loathing normally reserved for my own shortcomings or particularly inept colleagues.

This time, it's the former that's the subject of my ire.

After injuring myself before London, I swore I'd make sure I didn't go through that again, so have spent most of the rest of the year trying to strengthen the knee with physio, exercises, and low impact things like cycling.

I started proper training good and early thanks to Sally so there was lots of time to build up to avoid too much pressure on it, and all seemed well.

But then, last week, the unwelcome niggle crept back into my life like an acquaintance from school you never really got on with, and creeped you out a bit when they kept appearing uninvited wherever you went.

So it's a few days rest, ice, knee strap back on and some mashing with a tennis ball to try to get this infernal limb into some sort of workable state.

There's still the thick end of 18 weeks to go (just 124 short days) so I'm hoping that this is just 2009 giving me one last kick before it get's filed into the 'crappy years I need to forget'.

First fart tomorrow

It was bound to happen - as inevitable as southerners making a massive fuss about a little bit of snow.

Ever since I started this running lark it was clear, at some point, I'd have to have a go at "speed play" or, as it's more amusingly (to my juvenile mind) called: fartlek.

Tomorrow is my first session of farting - 40 mins of giving it a bit of welly for a bit, then jogging for a bit, then giving it some more welly, etc.

So, given my lack of discipline, I predict I'll do one longish one to start with, then lots of shorter ones as I gradually knacker myself out.

Even though I know I'll do it, it doesn't mean I'll recognise it and address the problem so I do it properly. I will try, but I know I'm an idiot so it's bound to go a bit wrong.

I put it down to my own special style of learning - I call it 'the hard way'!

And now, back to our feature programme...

One of the rules of successful blogging is apparently that you should never apologise for not posting in a while.

Some people interpret this as meaning you should post often to keep readers coming back, but for my own purposes, I choose to interpret it as glossing over my tardiness in a slightly flippant way.

So, non-apology over, what have I been doing?

A lot!

Sally - the personal trainer I won on Twitter - has had me doing a variety of fun things. Hill reps (gah!), intervals (double gah!), long, slow runs (bleugh!), and other fun things.

She's also been quite cruel about me using my bike so much (something about 'carb deficiency'...) but hasn't called me fat in a while - which is nice.

I had a crap few sessions last week, but had an extra day off yesterday as I gave blood on Monday. This gave me a chance to think a bit about my motivation (thespian that I am) and I realised I don't feel as enthused as I have in the past as I'm doing it by myself.

The double-ace joyness (real word (c) philrunslondon) of my last, albeit failed, attempt, was sharing the experience with others, and I don't think I'm there with it this time round.

So, I'm gonna be talking to myself/blogging more, and actively stalking others who are heading for Greenwich Park in April.

Expect nonsense, banality, crudeness and moaning.

You have been warned!