So, as I'm sure you're all aware, last Monday was the landmark '300 days until the London Marathon' - is everyone ready?
No?
Oh dear...
I appreciate I'm in something of a minority knowing I'll be running next year already - the joys of knee injury - when the ballot isn't for a few more months. But, given I'm still not running at the mo, it is tricky to keep focussed so I'm clasping at whatever landmarks I can!
Yeah, counting down the days in hundreds rather than the panic of realising it is "only four weeks" I've had for the last couple of years is somewhat lame, but in theory it'll help me get some miles under my belt once my knees up to it.
I've had my last session in the weird knee classes, and have one more consultation to check it's ok next week.
Before then I need to get some short runs (couple of miles) under my belt to see how the knee copes.
Then, if everythings ok, it's time to get the trainers on and see what damage not running for three months has done to my already-not-exactly-brilliant running ability!
Hopefully the cycling has helped keep the overall fitness up, so it won't be too much of a shock to the system to get out there again.
Though, after two winters of training for an April marathon, it will be weird running in the light!
+++ Update +++
Halfords have just sent me an email apologising for a) the service and b) having to wait so long for a reply - which is nice.
Not sure if this is down to this post, my tweet on it or the fact they've genuinely only just got round to dealing with it.
Halfords Bikes - because life is over-rated
It's now been three weeks of cycling the 22-mile round trip to and from work as a way of keeping the fitness up whilst my knee recovers, ready for my third attempt at trying to run the London Marathon next April.
It's been a mixed experience as there have been several, shall we say 'issues', with the bike.
As I'd not ridden in a long time, and didn't know whether I'd just get bored and give up on the whole thing, I wasn't prepared to fork out more than £200. I just wanted something cheap, but good enough to get me from home to work, with the potential for some light off-roading on weekends.
I am painfully aware of my limited knowledge of bikes and so I thought I'd play it safe by heading to one of the biggest bike-sellers in the country, Halfords.
The logic I used was that:
It was one of the worst shopping experiences of my life.
Having taken an early lunch to get there well before 12 so I could collect it by the end of the day, it was frustrating that it took me 20 minutes of proactive hunting to actually find someone in the bike section who I could spend my £180 with. "Recession? F**k that, we don't need your money!"
Once I'd parted with my money I was assured it would be ready to collect by 4pm that day.
As I had a work commitment that went on longer than expected I couldn't actually get there until 5pm, and when I did I was then told they'd made the wrong bike ("Are you sure you're not a foot taller than you look?") so would have to wait 20 minutes while they put it together.
Half an hour passed, and it still wasn't ready. Another 20 minutes and the bike was at last built. So, having added a lock and helmet to my purchase, I was ready to go.
Unfortunately, I then had to deal with the security guard who insisted on making sure that, despite having been in the store for around an hour and a half all day, I'd actually bought the bike I had just been given, and was now pushing out of the store.
For some reason it took him a couple of minutes to establish that the bike on the receipt was the same model as that I was pushing (I would have thought the big sticker on the frame with the model number on would have been a good clue, but apparently not).
Once it was established I wasn't the least subtle bike thief in the world, he then noticed I had two other items on the receipt and wanted to check them - despite having the helmet on my head, and the lock in my bag!
I asked why, and he just grunted inaubdibly at me.
Another couple of minutes passed while he established beyond all reasonable doubt that the helmet was the same make as the one on my head ("look at the f***ing name on the front you t**t" I inwardly screamed), and the lock was the right length as the one on the receipt (I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd got a tape measure) before I was at last free.
I imagine it must be dull being a security guard at Halfords, but still, there's no reason to act like a tit just because you can.
Relieved to have got that over with, I then I tentatively got on the bike and began pedalling off.
Now, I hadn't been ridden a bike in some time, but I'm damn sure that the first time you turn the handlebars, the front wheel shouldn't keept pointing straight ahead.
Braking heavily to avoid ploughing into traffic as I left the car park (which is harder when your arms are pointing to the side), I soon discovered that the bolts attaching the handlebars weren't just a bit loose, they'd never been tightened.
Eager to get home at some point that night, and reluctant to spend any more time in that store, I tightened them as best I could by hand, and set off again.
This time they turned, which was a relief.
What was now annoying me was my inability to use all three of the cogs on the chainring, or three on the freewheel. The combined effect of this meant my supposedly 21 speed bike only had 8 gears to choose from, and those which I could were for what I can only assume is an attempt to cycle up Kilamanjaro.
This left my pedalling like mad, and seemingly going nowhere - always a good look!
Also, the front wheel was making a scraping noise where the brake disk was touching the rim. After investigating this at home, it turns out this was simply down to the front wheel being not being attached properly.
Always good to find out that kind of information after cycling 11 miles through heavy Friday night traffic.
Most of these problems are now rectified thanks to the interweb and trial and error in my garage, but it does make me question whether they use trained chimps to put these together, and what exactly the safety check was looking for.
"Do we check the handlebars and wheels are attached?"
"Nah, we're keeping an eye out for sharks hiding under the seat. Oh, and make sure poison darts don't fly out of the brakes!"
I had hoped that this was an isolated bad experience, but I soon realised it wasn't when I accompanied a friend to buy their first bike in some time the next day from Halfords' Brooklands store.
To cut another long story short, this one came with an 'out-of true' (ie, not round) front wheel (hadn't even been on the road when we realised that the scraping noise from the brakes wasn't just them "breaking in") and the accessory pack (pump, bottle, lock, tool thing, etc) was made of cheap crap plastic - the pump holder broke by bending past it to get a drink, and lock holder broke with the little jiggle you do to make sure the lock was secure.
Frankly, I think we could have paid someone to beat us up in the street for the £340 we spent there and feel less like we'd been mugged.
I have been in touch with Halfords to express my 'disappointment' (had to wait a week so I could be sure I wou'dn't swear!), but despite the promise to get back to me within five days, they've now had 11 and I've not heard a thing.
Lessons from this?
For the love of god, don't get a bike from Halfords unless death by poor craftsmanship is something that appeals to you.
If you do get one and don't want to die, you need to learn how to get it roadworthy yourself. This is pretty fun actually as usually involves getting oil and grease on you and feels quite manly.
It's been a mixed experience as there have been several, shall we say 'issues', with the bike.
As I'd not ridden in a long time, and didn't know whether I'd just get bored and give up on the whole thing, I wasn't prepared to fork out more than £200. I just wanted something cheap, but good enough to get me from home to work, with the potential for some light off-roading on weekends.
I am painfully aware of my limited knowledge of bikes and so I thought I'd play it safe by heading to one of the biggest bike-sellers in the country, Halfords.
The logic I used was that:
- a big chain will have more choice of cheaper stuff for me to try
- they'll give it a safety check etc first
- its the only place that sells bike close to work
It was one of the worst shopping experiences of my life.
Having taken an early lunch to get there well before 12 so I could collect it by the end of the day, it was frustrating that it took me 20 minutes of proactive hunting to actually find someone in the bike section who I could spend my £180 with. "Recession? F**k that, we don't need your money!"
Once I'd parted with my money I was assured it would be ready to collect by 4pm that day.
As I had a work commitment that went on longer than expected I couldn't actually get there until 5pm, and when I did I was then told they'd made the wrong bike ("Are you sure you're not a foot taller than you look?") so would have to wait 20 minutes while they put it together.
Half an hour passed, and it still wasn't ready. Another 20 minutes and the bike was at last built. So, having added a lock and helmet to my purchase, I was ready to go.
Unfortunately, I then had to deal with the security guard who insisted on making sure that, despite having been in the store for around an hour and a half all day, I'd actually bought the bike I had just been given, and was now pushing out of the store.
For some reason it took him a couple of minutes to establish that the bike on the receipt was the same model as that I was pushing (I would have thought the big sticker on the frame with the model number on would have been a good clue, but apparently not).
Once it was established I wasn't the least subtle bike thief in the world, he then noticed I had two other items on the receipt and wanted to check them - despite having the helmet on my head, and the lock in my bag!
I asked why, and he just grunted inaubdibly at me.
Another couple of minutes passed while he established beyond all reasonable doubt that the helmet was the same make as the one on my head ("look at the f***ing name on the front you t**t" I inwardly screamed), and the lock was the right length as the one on the receipt (I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd got a tape measure) before I was at last free.
I imagine it must be dull being a security guard at Halfords, but still, there's no reason to act like a tit just because you can.
Relieved to have got that over with, I then I tentatively got on the bike and began pedalling off.
Now, I hadn't been ridden a bike in some time, but I'm damn sure that the first time you turn the handlebars, the front wheel shouldn't keept pointing straight ahead.
Braking heavily to avoid ploughing into traffic as I left the car park (which is harder when your arms are pointing to the side), I soon discovered that the bolts attaching the handlebars weren't just a bit loose, they'd never been tightened.
Eager to get home at some point that night, and reluctant to spend any more time in that store, I tightened them as best I could by hand, and set off again.
This time they turned, which was a relief.
What was now annoying me was my inability to use all three of the cogs on the chainring, or three on the freewheel. The combined effect of this meant my supposedly 21 speed bike only had 8 gears to choose from, and those which I could were for what I can only assume is an attempt to cycle up Kilamanjaro.
This left my pedalling like mad, and seemingly going nowhere - always a good look!
Also, the front wheel was making a scraping noise where the brake disk was touching the rim. After investigating this at home, it turns out this was simply down to the front wheel being not being attached properly.
Always good to find out that kind of information after cycling 11 miles through heavy Friday night traffic.
Most of these problems are now rectified thanks to the interweb and trial and error in my garage, but it does make me question whether they use trained chimps to put these together, and what exactly the safety check was looking for.
"Do we check the handlebars and wheels are attached?"
"Nah, we're keeping an eye out for sharks hiding under the seat. Oh, and make sure poison darts don't fly out of the brakes!"
I had hoped that this was an isolated bad experience, but I soon realised it wasn't when I accompanied a friend to buy their first bike in some time the next day from Halfords' Brooklands store.
To cut another long story short, this one came with an 'out-of true' (ie, not round) front wheel (hadn't even been on the road when we realised that the scraping noise from the brakes wasn't just them "breaking in") and the accessory pack (pump, bottle, lock, tool thing, etc) was made of cheap crap plastic - the pump holder broke by bending past it to get a drink, and lock holder broke with the little jiggle you do to make sure the lock was secure.
Frankly, I think we could have paid someone to beat us up in the street for the £340 we spent there and feel less like we'd been mugged.
I have been in touch with Halfords to express my 'disappointment' (had to wait a week so I could be sure I wou'dn't swear!), but despite the promise to get back to me within five days, they've now had 11 and I've not heard a thing.
Lessons from this?
For the love of god, don't get a bike from Halfords unless death by poor craftsmanship is something that appeals to you.
If you do get one and don't want to die, you need to learn how to get it roadworthy yourself. This is pretty fun actually as usually involves getting oil and grease on you and feels quite manly.
Two-wheels better than one... knee
Today I've completed 22 miles powered only by my legs.
Not quite a marathon, and, to, be honest, I didnt run, but hey, after two months of nothing 11 mile to, and 11 from work feels like something of achievement.
Shame I got caught in hail on way back. Still sodden!
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device
++++ Updated to correct my horrendous typing, which I would blame on pedi
Not quite a marathon, and, to, be honest, I didnt run, but hey, after two months of nothing 11 mile to, and 11 from work feels like something of achievement.
Shame I got caught in hail on way back. Still sodden!
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device
++++ Updated to correct my horrendous typing, which I would blame on pedi
Deadline day
Ever since I was little (or littler - still only 5'7") I've tended to wake up in the early hours.
I think it's from my parents getting me and my sister u, dressed and into the car by 6:45 so my dad could get to the factory where he worked, and my mom then had the car so she could get to work.
When we eventually got a video (to the younger readers, that's a recordable hard drive made out of weird plastic tape, to the Yanks, it's a VCR) I remember me and my sister being excited to get back home as my mom would have recorded TV-AM while we were out.
Not that I was an Anne Diamond fan, but it included a 5 minute episode of Popeye or something similar at about 7:20.
When I got a morning paper round, I was always at the newsagents by 6am. Often I was there before the papers had arrived.
Even at uni, I got up early – albeit nearer 8am, rather than midday like everyone else in our freshers flat.
The moral is, I'm an early riser. My alarm goes off at 5:42 (no idea when or why I got so specific) and I'm usually in work before 7:30.
So, you'd think I'd be used to the sound of my alarm in the morning.
Not today.
It had a different noise.
And it went off at 4:30.
Now you might think 'big deal, just turn it off and go back to sleep'. Sadly my brain doesn't work like that. Once I'm awake, I'm awake. It's a pain, but I've gotta live with it.
So when I hit the 'dismiss' button (no idea why it's not called 'off', but what do I know about mobile phone design?) I mentally prepared myself for an hour of trying to get back to sleep, knowing full well it wouldn't work.
After about 20 mins of trying to bury my head in a way that made it dark enough to trick myself it might be time to sleep, but not too hot that I feel like I'm in a furnace, it suddenly dawned on me to check why my phone went off so early.
Annoyingly, it had locked itself so I had to fiddle around with the touchscreen keyboard thingy whilst still not entirely conscious, but after a herculean effort (and several fat finger mistakes) I was in.
Turns out today is the deadline for the ill or injured forms to be returned for next years London marathon - how organised am I putting that on there?
And also what the hell was I thinking setting the reminder for 4:30? Was I giving myself extra time so I could nip into London to hand-deliver it?
Anyway, it was a moot point as I'd sent it almost straight after I got it a couple of weeks ago.
So now, having given up on trying to get back to sleep, I spent the rest of my pre-alarm time running through the things I want/need to do to get to the end of The Mall next April.
I'm sure my list is pretty comprehensive by now, but the problem is to do most - if not all - of the stuff on there requires my to get past the first one - sort out knee.
Only three more knee class things to go then I get the verdict from the physio then I can actually think about running and might have something to blog about other than my morning ritual!
I think it's from my parents getting me and my sister u, dressed and into the car by 6:45 so my dad could get to the factory where he worked, and my mom then had the car so she could get to work.
When we eventually got a video (to the younger readers, that's a recordable hard drive made out of weird plastic tape, to the Yanks, it's a VCR) I remember me and my sister being excited to get back home as my mom would have recorded TV-AM while we were out.
Not that I was an Anne Diamond fan, but it included a 5 minute episode of Popeye or something similar at about 7:20.
When I got a morning paper round, I was always at the newsagents by 6am. Often I was there before the papers had arrived.
Even at uni, I got up early – albeit nearer 8am, rather than midday like everyone else in our freshers flat.
The moral is, I'm an early riser. My alarm goes off at 5:42 (no idea when or why I got so specific) and I'm usually in work before 7:30.
So, you'd think I'd be used to the sound of my alarm in the morning.
Not today.
It had a different noise.
And it went off at 4:30.
Now you might think 'big deal, just turn it off and go back to sleep'. Sadly my brain doesn't work like that. Once I'm awake, I'm awake. It's a pain, but I've gotta live with it.
So when I hit the 'dismiss' button (no idea why it's not called 'off', but what do I know about mobile phone design?) I mentally prepared myself for an hour of trying to get back to sleep, knowing full well it wouldn't work.
After about 20 mins of trying to bury my head in a way that made it dark enough to trick myself it might be time to sleep, but not too hot that I feel like I'm in a furnace, it suddenly dawned on me to check why my phone went off so early.
Annoyingly, it had locked itself so I had to fiddle around with the touchscreen keyboard thingy whilst still not entirely conscious, but after a herculean effort (and several fat finger mistakes) I was in.
Turns out today is the deadline for the ill or injured forms to be returned for next years London marathon - how organised am I putting that on there?
And also what the hell was I thinking setting the reminder for 4:30? Was I giving myself extra time so I could nip into London to hand-deliver it?
Anyway, it was a moot point as I'd sent it almost straight after I got it a couple of weeks ago.
So now, having given up on trying to get back to sleep, I spent the rest of my pre-alarm time running through the things I want/need to do to get to the end of The Mall next April.
I'm sure my list is pretty comprehensive by now, but the problem is to do most - if not all - of the stuff on there requires my to get past the first one - sort out knee.
Only three more knee class things to go then I get the verdict from the physio then I can actually think about running and might have something to blog about other than my morning ritual!
Cover your tracks
Now we all know it's only a matter of time before machines rise up and overthrow the human race in an orgy of blood-spilling and pain the likes of which humanity has never seen before.
Optimists seem to think we'll at least be kept alive as either slaves or fuel, but I'm not convinced by their arguments.
With technology pushing the ever expanding horizons of the possible further towards the limits of our imagination, it's probably only a matter of time before someone drops the ball, and the machines kick off.
In the meantime, technology is bloody useful, so we might as well take advantage of it before we meet a painful death.
Missing out on running this years London Marathon because of injury a couple of weeks before was a bit of a blow.
But, thanks to this blog and Twitter, there were a fair few people I 'met' online who I wanted to support, so I tried to find the best way of tracking them on race day and ended up trying to use the official Adidas tracker.
This didn't work brilliantly (one of the alert texts I got said someone was only halfway - two hours after he'd finished!
To my childlike and possibly naive mind, it shouldn't be so hard to track runs – especially with more and more phones having GPS built in, so, ever determined to use the interweb for exciting things, I decided to see what else I could find.
I've got a BlackBerry Storm (good fun, but turns out the screens not a fan of being dropped onto very hard surfaces) so I had a jolly fun time looking for exciting mapping applications that could meet my geeky needs.
And by Odin's beard did I find a few!
So, to pass the time I've been road-testing them, and my fave thus far is GPSed. When I say road-testing, I don't mean by actually running – my knees still screwed.
So, with probably more glee than necessary, I've been 'running tracks' for exciting things like, the trip to work (image below), a walk around the park, train journeys, and even around Ikea.
A track, is basically anything you want to track yourself. You tell GPSed to start, and it locates satellites (most I've had were 11!) to triangulate your position with freakish accuracy.
As you're running it shows you where you are, what direction you're going in, and how fast. When you're done, click stop and it saves all the info for you which you can upload to their site to look at properly later.
Apparently you can upload it to other things too, but I don't have anything else to upload to so haven't had the chance to try it.
It's been quite fun working out which mornings I get to work quickest and how fast I trudge around the park.
There have been a few glitches though – the train journey passes through a signal black hole so I got a freakishly straight line for part of one track. That has implications for the speed figure calculated, but as it was only for a short space of time, I don't think it was significant.
And I was on a train, so I probably don't really need to know how fast I was going.
Overall, I've bene finding it good fun, I just need to be able to try it running. No doubt I'll then find numerous faults, and once again berate myself for being crap at reviewing things.
Now, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before someone, or something, uses the technology for evil, but until the machines rise up and become our overlords (and I for one welcome them) I hope a few of you agree that this is one of the potential useful things we can enjoy before our painful and untimely deaths.
Optimists seem to think we'll at least be kept alive as either slaves or fuel, but I'm not convinced by their arguments.
With technology pushing the ever expanding horizons of the possible further towards the limits of our imagination, it's probably only a matter of time before someone drops the ball, and the machines kick off.
In the meantime, technology is bloody useful, so we might as well take advantage of it before we meet a painful death.
Missing out on running this years London Marathon because of injury a couple of weeks before was a bit of a blow.
But, thanks to this blog and Twitter, there were a fair few people I 'met' online who I wanted to support, so I tried to find the best way of tracking them on race day and ended up trying to use the official Adidas tracker.
This didn't work brilliantly (one of the alert texts I got said someone was only halfway - two hours after he'd finished!
To my childlike and possibly naive mind, it shouldn't be so hard to track runs – especially with more and more phones having GPS built in, so, ever determined to use the interweb for exciting things, I decided to see what else I could find.
I've got a BlackBerry Storm (good fun, but turns out the screens not a fan of being dropped onto very hard surfaces) so I had a jolly fun time looking for exciting mapping applications that could meet my geeky needs.
And by Odin's beard did I find a few!
So, to pass the time I've been road-testing them, and my fave thus far is GPSed. When I say road-testing, I don't mean by actually running – my knees still screwed.
So, with probably more glee than necessary, I've been 'running tracks' for exciting things like, the trip to work (image below), a walk around the park, train journeys, and even around Ikea.
A track, is basically anything you want to track yourself. You tell GPSed to start, and it locates satellites (most I've had were 11!) to triangulate your position with freakish accuracy.
As you're running it shows you where you are, what direction you're going in, and how fast. When you're done, click stop and it saves all the info for you which you can upload to their site to look at properly later.
Apparently you can upload it to other things too, but I don't have anything else to upload to so haven't had the chance to try it.
It's been quite fun working out which mornings I get to work quickest and how fast I trudge around the park.
There have been a few glitches though – the train journey passes through a signal black hole so I got a freakishly straight line for part of one track. That has implications for the speed figure calculated, but as it was only for a short space of time, I don't think it was significant.
And I was on a train, so I probably don't really need to know how fast I was going.
Overall, I've bene finding it good fun, I just need to be able to try it running. No doubt I'll then find numerous faults, and once again berate myself for being crap at reviewing things.
Now, I'm sure it's only a matter of time before someone, or something, uses the technology for evil, but until the machines rise up and become our overlords (and I for one welcome them) I hope a few of you agree that this is one of the potential useful things we can enjoy before our painful and untimely deaths.
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