Humid

I’m clearly exaggerating, but it was (just) a little like running out into a swimming pool this morning.  It was warm and humid and everyone who said good morning to me spoke in a soft tone as if they didn’t want to disturb the surface of the water any more than they had to.

I ran over to Ote Hall and out around Wivelsfield church, before running across to Wivelsfield itself.  The church bells both welcomed me and then followed me on across the fields and the rain, when it finally came, did so in a similarly gentle, tinkling way.

It may have reduced the temperature slightly, but the rain made no difference to my energy levels, which were similarly subdued.

I ran on down Hundred Acre Lane then doubled back in order to run through a field that used to be sapling oaks, now ten-footers.

Then it was down the Magical Path and back across the Common.

7.8 miles in 1.15 – 6.24mph.

Happy Birthday

I’ve got a little behind.  So says Kim.

It’s late and we’ve been out for a delicious dinner at Cliff & Nessie’s place but I need to quickly write about today before it passes and I get behind again… you may have noticed that the previous post, although dated Wednesday, has only just hit the airwaves!

So this is the third birthday of www.FosterRuns.com and though most of the annual numbers are complete, I just haven’t had a chance to tot up to be able to comment… that will have to wait for another day.

I did get out for a run with Mark Johnson this morning though.  We met at Jack and Jill at 9am, which just happened to be at the same time as Burgess Hill Runners – note Colin from the Wivelsfield Woodland Wobble in the foreground.

After talking a load of nonsense for the first five minutes, we actually settled down into a more serious conversation while we ran out past Ditchling Beacon.

It would be easy to make fun of Mark for wanting to turn around early (again), but alas it was because of a phone call conveying the sad news that his best friend’s son had just died.  Pretty much nothing I can add to that, beyond my sincere condolences.

We ran back in a more sombre mood, covering what I calculate to be 7 miles in 1.15.

Manila antelopes

I think there must be something decidedly odd about my mind.

The short trail of words that links Manila to manilla to envelopes to antelopes via envelops (which is what antelope poo does when you tread in it), is indicative of how my mind views the world given half a chance.  Which it often gets.

And I shudder to even think of mentioning philistines, which is what Manilan greenkeepers use to aerate, right?

Anyway, at short notice on Wednesday afternoon I was forced to change my work plans.  The conversation went something like ‘fancy coming for a run David?’ followed by my affirmative answer.

And so it was that I met Daren (fresh from the Philippines) and Dai for a run on the Downs.

I often think that the Downs are a contradiction in terms as there generally only appears to be Ups and today was no exception.

In essence, the three of us, accompanied by much hilarity, ran from Dai’s place to the Beacon.  The snippet above is indicative of the conversation we were having so you can see that we were in high spirits.

It’s largely uphill all the way to the top and then the way back again is most assuredly uphill… in fact it was on one of the uphill sections on the way back that Dai actually slowed down enough for Daren and I to catch him… before he powered off again!

Although there was a dispute between Garmins, as far as I’m concerned we managed pretty much 7 miles in 1.12.  Not superfast, but really good value!

Oh, I almost forgot.  At one point Daren was gliding along beside me and in that moment he really did remind me of an antelope… which would be kind of appropriate since he grew up with Nick, the man known in these pages as Bok.

Nonsense

It was just like the old days… I turned around and there was Mark Johnson, least where I expected to find him.  Of course, having chanced across him so many times in the past I’m seldom now surprised to bump into him when I’m out running, although I might have been if he had been sporting the gear he was wearing on Friday.  Suit, shirt, tie and shoes.

It was a lunch event and afterwards in the bar the conversation went something like: M Been running lately? D Not for two weeks.  M Fancy a run? D Yep, Sunday? M Where & what time? D Jack & Jill 9am? M See you there.  This was much to the amusement of the other people surrounding us who were more interested in partying the whole weekend with Gay Pride running in Brighton.

In fact, my understanding is that Mark might have partied for half the weekend, but he still managed to arrive at the allotted time and place.

It was a beautiful, hot and sunny morning, as I sat outside to eat my breakfast.  Unfortunately, by the time I parked up at Jack & Jill it looked like this.

The reason you can see the top of the car was that I was sat in it trying to keep warm!

Actually, once we got going it was okay… a pretty good temperature to run in and the murk that looked as if it was going to envelop us never materialised.  We ran to Blackcap and although Mark had to get back to take his daughter to the park, he agreed to run a little further down to the ‘gate’ so that the run would get into double figures.

As normal we conducted a conversation more or less from start to finish which I’m sure slowed us down… either that or I’ve got the figures mixed up somewhere.

Our run was 10.3 miles and it took us 1.47 which equates to 5.78mph… bearing in mind that on the way out I could hardly keep up, I find this odd, but hey!

As we parted Mark said that he looked forward to reading my nonsense…

NONSENSE?!  I’m a serious writer I’ll have you know!

It’s certainly not apparent today though… I’m still recovering from falling asleep on the sofa for a couple of hours when I got back!

And though I doubt it very much, if you are wondering ‘why the sofa’, it was because it was once again too hot to sit outside!

Plain English

Looking back on the day as I sit here towards the end of the evening, my run this morning seems like an age ago.

I had sat looking at a business challenge from a fresh perspective (anything rather than run) whilst I tried to coax myself out of sleep with a couple of quadspressos.  Ironically the reason for my eventual departure was that I got so high on the fumes from the marker pen I was using, that I had to get some air!

Extending the fresh perspective into my route, I headed down to Worlds End and out along Rocky Lane to the viaduct.

Passing underneath I ran to the fish ponds, with it’s fishing men and deep run-off area…

… and then on to the London Road at Fairplace Hill before running out around the ring road.

It never fails to amaze me that the ring road wasn’t designed to have a pavement, particularly as there is a sports centre half way around.  I ran on the verge, where there was one and otherwise on the road, until the point where the local council has installed a cinder track in the field adjacent to the road.

At the point where the ring road joins the London Road again, I continued straight on, across the fields…

… to the Keymer Road and a short run home again.

7.85 miles in 1.18 gives a speed just over 6mph.

Today was a normal Sunday chore day (not all of which are really chores, of course) but this evening we went to the Fountain in Plumpton to watch an awesome new band called Plain English.  A random guy, standing listening in front of us by the entrance to the packed pub, summed up how good they were in a really most eloquent way: ‘Plain English, you say?  They’re the dogs b*****ks!’

And you can’t say it plainer than that!

Aroma Sensation

Before I start, I’d just like to mention the beautiful aroma of honeysuckle and pinks in the garden at the moment.  In the evenings, when the air is still, it is simply magical to walk out there, as is sitting in the tea-house in the mornings.

I’ve had another one of those manic weekends.  You know the kind, where you seem to achieve a lot?  And this despite feeling so drained on Friday night that I did little but read and sleep.

Saturday I finished painting the outside of the house, putting a second coat on the upstairs back, the bit downstairs that I’d missed last weekend and a coat on the back of next door’s garage.  I’ve since realised that there are some silly window returns that could probably do with another coat, but to all intents & purposes, I have finished.

Then I trimmed the front hedge and cut the grass (Kim had already cut around all the edges) and painted a coat of white gloss on the garage door frame, before I started on…. the garage itself!

Clutter has gradually been building over the last few months, exacerbated by one or two DIY projects and the more recent arrival of Karen’s stuff while she’s away.

The beginning of the garage project started with my trying to find the white gloss paint amongst a hundred other pots… five deep and stacked three or four high on the bottom deck of the bench.  All whilst peering over the bags of stuff on the floor in front.

I speculatively eyed up the cabinets that sit on the bench and almost before I had a chance to think, the boxed contents were stacked on the floor and the tins of paint were being organised onto eye-level shelves.

The project paused last night, as we went to see Inception (Leonardo DiCaprio) – you can read about it via the link, but I have to report that it is truly excellent… a real mind-warper on a par with Vanilla Sky.

The combination of garage dust and widescreen cinema left me with really dry eyes this morning and I strained to be able to read as I sat in the tea-house with first one, then a second quadspresso.  The exertions of painting, hedge trimming etc also left me feeling stiff and I was sore tempted not to run… only the thought of an empty blog spurred me to action.

Intending to only run my normal short route, I left my water-bottle behind and set off, quickly finding myself at Ote Hall where people were emerging from the remnants of a wedding party.

At Slugwash Lane, after a brief chat to the Alpacas, I remembered seeing a modernist house (one of my passions) being constructed last year and so ran down past it to have a look, continuing on along a delightful wooded path which wove gradually back up the hill.

At the top there is a delightful place I have been before, or should I say, got lost at (at least) twice before.  Fortunately I now know which way to go!

And when I got back to the path I’d been on before I detoured, there was yet another pretty scene.

I dropped down into Wivelsfield and took the bridle path to Hundred Acre Lane that we raced up last week, then chose to continue on through the woods to Ditchling Common Industrial Estate.

Then it was back down the Magical Path & across the Common to home.

The convoluted circuit was 8.5 miles and I completed it in 1.22, a gentle speed of 6.2mph.

After breakfast and a snooze on the sun lounger, the garage task continued for much of the day.  I can now SEE my bench (well, the edge of it at any rate), whilst all my painting, tiling, plastering stuff is hidden away behind closed doors.  I’ll need some plastic boxes to neaten up the new contents of the lower level, but it’s okay.

I also mixed up some PVA & water to try to better seal the concrete floor, starting under the bench… thank goodness for those new painting pads on long sticks which are very effective.

Now I’m off to bed, but not before wandering back out into the garden for another aroma-sensation!

Twenty years

Life is seldom dull and this week was no exception, especially as it ended with a performance of Midsummer Night’s Dream performed in the open air near Wivelsfield for the benefit of St Peter & St James Hospice.  It plays until the 26th June and I highly recommend it, although if you go, I hope for the sake of the players, that it doesn’t rain.  The clouds were gathering as we arrived and the heavens opened mid way through the first half.  We were sitting in comfortable chairs in covered marquees, but the players got doused, not that it affected their smiles and good nature in the least.

Today is the London to Brighton Bike ride, which once again falls on Fathers Day and makes it difficult for me to visit mine!  Happy Fathers Day Dad!

I like to try to get to the top of Ditchling Beacon to share some of their pain (and delight), so I was up early to give me a chance to get there before it got too hot.  The day dawned beautiful but I confess shock when I got outside in my shorts to find that it wasn’t really all that warm!

I ran down to Ditchling via Oldlands Mill and saw my first lone cyclist, who laughed when I asked if he was a front runner… it was 8.30am and the fast guys had been through an hour earlier!

I ran up onto the Beacon… it must have been a while as it was hard work, but I stuck with it and managed to get there without needing to stop.

After some banter with the marshals, who were running around trying to fix the PA system to give encouragement to people as they cycled, or walked up the hill, I headed back via Sporting Cars of Brighton, East End Lane and the path that goes to Ditchling Common Industrial Estate.

I was looking forward to running down the Magical Path, but by the time I got there the clouds had rolled in and it was cold, dark and miserable.  I guess everyone is entitled to their off days!

So 10.75 miles in 1.51.  6mph on the way there (which is pretty good as it includes the Ditchling Beacon climb) but only 5.66mph on the return which reflects how little I have been running lately… also suggested by my need for a nap on the sofa when I returned!

That would be that, but I am reminded that it is twenty years since I actually rode in the London to Brighton bike ride and I thought I would reflect briefly on what has changed in my life, since that time.

I had just bought my first house in June 1990, with the help of my sister. It was a first rung on the housing ladder which I intended to keep for three years.

I valiantly defended my two handkerchiefs of grass from my green-fingered father: one at the front with two small shrubs and one at the back with a shed. Not for me all these plants and stuff: give me grass any day of the week! There were two runs of concrete on which to park my red company Ford Escort and once inside the thin porch, the dominant colour was professionally applied magnolia with expensive curtains, one benefit of buying the house from an ambitious young banker.

I had a lodger, Dawn, who initially slept on the floor, as did I, the only furniture in the house being a sofa that came from my best friend and a wooden coffee table from an antique shop. The latter supported the Rega turntable that half my music revolved around, the other half involving my twelve-string guitar.

I sold Commercial Finance for NWS, which entailed me visiting the myriad small & medium sized businesses across West Sussex and providing the finance for them to buy cars, vans, machinery.  Even then I had a greater interest in what these companies actually did (which often made my work frustrating), something that I had picked up from both my father and from another Mr Foster, Ken, who had employed me in his art gallery a couple of years earlier. Ken had been the FD of a well known travel company and had eventually negotiated its distressed sale for one pound Sterling… a startling and fascinating concept for someone like me, who knew little of business at the time.

Each week I borrowed a lawn mower from my very kind neighbour, Pam (who I went to visit only this week) to cut my grass, me not being able to afford to buy one. I often also cut the grass of the attached house on the other side as it was generally unkempt due to being sporadically rented out. My skills with any other tools, garden or otherwise, left much to be desired.

What has changed since then?  Life in the intervening years has certainly been interesting and there have been both high and low points, the latter including losing three really very good friends, one to Cancer, one sadly to suicide and another to his own avarice.

I sold my first house after 15 years (remember, I had intended to stay there for three), although I also bought, lived in for four years and sold a London flat during that time, enabling me to study for an Executive MBA at London Business School. I have now lived in my current house for five years (with my girlfriend of ten years!).

My father patiently (oh so patiently!) taught me to garden which, aside from considerably enhancing my surroundings at both houses, has instilled a much valued patience in me too. My treasured hi-fi has been sold and replaced with the kind of micro system (now itself old-fashioned) that I would have laughed at before. And I have stuff, lots of stuff, which for someone who is a minimalist at heart is fascinating. I wonder if we are hard wired to accumulate things until we have filled every nook & cranny.

I now work with the type of companies I visited twenty years ago, getting to ask those more searching questions and adding value by helping them to overcome their challenges or develop differentiated business strategies. My own current business is young and I earn even less than I did back then but my life is evolving, just as Charles Handy suggested it would in his book the Elephant and the Flea, into a portfolio of interests. Each of which I’m really passionate about in a driven way.

My Porsche of eight years sits on the driveway that I designed, while I sit and read (and once again today, type) in the tea-house that I also designed and patiently made.  I have time to read and to think, which is how I perceive I add the greatest value to my clients.  It’s the kind of lifestyle I might have only dreamed about twenty years ago. Not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, but I’m very happy with it.

Though I really wonder what life will be like for me in another twenty years time?

Broken

Broken: Well this was how I felt as I ran the last few miles to the finish line, knowing full well that not only was I going to miss my target time for the day, but that I was also going to be slower than my previous marathon time, by a full twelve minutes. And broken is also a good description for my Blackberry, which apparently objected to some combination of heat, humidity or movement, although I’m hopeful that it might sort itself out.

Overall though, it was a GREAT day!

Strangely, for such a beautifully warm spring morning, it started with Kim having to scrape the frost from the car… and me having to drive back from the top of the road to get my forgotten Blackberry.

The day proper got underway at Clive & Nat’s house, a stones throw from the start line, where Andy Adams & Cliff had stayed overnight. We then picked up Andy Pumphrey and Nikki from outside the pub at the end of the road, Andy sporting the Scooby Doo costume that someone had sponsored him to wear.  We met the rest of the ensemble in the park, our collective mood light and frivolous, like you would expect from a bunch of folk in their mid-forties.

Mark Johnson & I slotted into the starting queue and just after 9.15 we were off… for what turned out for me to be a race of two halves, although sadly not split in the normal 20/6.2 way.

The day was gorgeous, the crowds were out in force along the route and the early miles nearly flew by, certainly as far as Ovingdean where I got a welcome cheer from Caraline Marsh. Then my knees started to hurt and by the time we reached the marina again I was more than a few paces behind Mark. I managed to hold on to his shirt-tales and was not far behind at the half way mark, but then I started to fall apart.

By the dogleg into Hove, after I had stopped to stretch, he passed me going the other way around half a mile ahead, shouting words of encouragement.

Cliff, wearing his prosthetic kayak and resplendent with split paddles for waving at the crowd, caught up with me as we headed out onto Shoreham harbour, but despite his most valiant attempts to keep me going, I just couldn’t hold his pace.  This was all the more galling as he was tagging along behind the 4-hour pace-man.

Mark then passed me again, going the other way on the Shoreham harbour road, probably a good mile ahead, this time shouting more urgent words of encouragement, probably realising how much work I had to do to get under 4-hours.  But I was already a broken man, with legs that were just shy of cramping up and only enough time to get to the finish line before 4 hours if I were fresh and those were the only five miles I had to run today.

Despite the pain and the disappointment, the final three-mile drag was truly awesome, with the crowds that had been cheering all the way now being several deep.  I’ve lived in and around this city all my life and this was Brighton at it’s very best.  Beautiful sultry spring day, calm sea, true camaraderie.

Though I had covered the halfway distance in 1.51.26, which is as fast as I’ve ever run a half marathon, I crossed the finish line in 4.13.36 in 2514th place.  Disappointed, sure, but elated also, especially after a walk into the sea to cool my legs down!

Martlet Kayak Club hosted drinks & a barbecue, where Debbie helped me get out of the sea, physio Martina kindly massaged everyone’s legs and Chris plied me with beer.  Then we caught the bus back to the start and had Chili back at Clive & Nat’s, our thoughts with Pete & Jacqui, whose son Adam had been taken into hospital.

I know there are some great photos floating around, for example of Cliff demonstrating that he could actually paddle his kayak in the sea, and I’ll try to put some on the site over the coming days.

In the meantime, thank you for your support and kind words!

Springin’

Having had eight days off running, hoping that my ankle problem would go away, I finally gave in and went to see Remedial & Sports Massage Therapist Andy Swan yesterday.  He identified and explained the reason for my pain, before giving my legs a really good stretch-out and thorough massage.  I can highly recommend him for both a pre- and post-marathon treatment.  His email address is andy@andyswan.co.uk and his phone number 07533 406004.

As a result of his work yesterday, I finally had the confidence to get back out there again this morning and go for a run with the big man, Daren… and what a stunning morning it was!

We met at Jack and Jill and it was like Spring had finally arrived with the bright sun in a crystal clear sky… even though it was still too chillsome for shorts!

We headed East, with Daren getting in an early excuse in to stop (to adjust his shoelaces, although they looked okay to me!)…

… before we paused again at Ditchling Beacon for a photo call.

Then we just ran on, chatting and laughing, until Daren’s Garmin bleeped to say that we had covered 4 miles… at which point we turned around and ran back again.

I’m slowly coming around to the whole Garmin thang and if you take a look at the output, which is at http://connect.garmin.com/activity/29358950?sms_ss=aolmail, I think that you’ll see what I mean!  Allied of course to the fact that it’s now a sleek, contemporary unit as opposed to the previous brick-like design.

We ended up running 8 miles in about 1.15 (or 1.13 according to Garmin, which was on pause while we took photos at Ditchling Beacon).

Sat at the traffic lights on the way home afterwards, I took this sneaky shot of the relaxed guy in the smart open-top Merc behind me…

Pre-storm calm

I had a strange ambivalence towards running this morning.  It wasn’t a case that I didn’t want to: more a case of not being bothered about it.

This is possibly something to do with the fact that the hard work is done and the next three weeks is about comprehensively sorting out my niggly injuries and recuperating ahead of the big day.

I stretched comprehensively before I started and then again at the 5-mile mark and ran a total of 8 miles in 1.13 and 22 seconds.  It was really no bother, to the extent that I even counted up for a change rather than down.  I kept changing the pace slightly each quarter-mile, but kept within the envelope of 6 to 7.2mph.  And I stretched out again afterwards.

Of course, my ambivalence may also be something to do with the amount of running I’ve done lately.  Further my post on January 31st (in which I highlighted that I had managed to fit in 12 runs, 14 hours of running time and cover 88.1 miles in January), I have had two further bumper months.

In February I had 15 runs, lasting 18 hours 48 minutes and covering 131.9 miles.

In March I have now completed 17 runs, lasting 5 minutes short of a whole day and have covered 157.25 miles.

That means I could reach Birmingham or Yeovil on foot in twenty-four hours of running… if I were allowed to stick to the motorways, of course!  Or put another way, I covered almost exactly the distance of six complete marathons.

I have much (much) less planned in the next few weeks up to the marathon, but I already have the subsequent challenge lined up in the summer and this time it’s about running fast, rather than long, so please watch this space!

One last thing… Happy Birthday Debbie!