<p><span style="font-size:medium;">Thank you Smudge for painstakingly helping me get this post sorted out.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:medium;">As my esteemed friend has pointed out, on Sunday I ran my fifth marathon, Dunedin, in a personal best time of 3:18:59. That was good enough for 12th in open men, and 27th overall. Despite the cold wet and windy weather a bloody good time was had by all.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="http://i62.tinypic.com/wa109k.jpg" alt="wa109k.jpg"></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:medium;">If at this point you're thinking, "geez, what a smug prick", you'd be right. But I've got a good reason for posting this in here: because this is where the journey began, more than eight years ago, in this thread.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:medium;">Yes there have been other more significant influences on my running (most notably my father who himself ran 17 marathons but sadly never got to see me run my first), but I've carried some of the advice I picked up here all the way. That's the beauty of running. It's not like knocking up a set of shelves - you can't just pick up a manual and know how to do it. It's a lifelong learning process, you can never know everything about it but the more you learn, the easier and more fun it becomes.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:medium;">I therefore can't recommend taking up running highly enough; no matter how fat, lazy or unfit you may be. If Southern Man (pictured triumphantly below) and I can do it, if MvJ can rack up an incredible string of marathon appearances, then anyone can. Don't believe me? Scroll up the page and see what a clueless idiot I was eight years ago. It's taken a long time to get here but it sure as hell has been worth it.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><img src="http://i60.tinypic.com/k39c1f.jpg" alt="k39c1f.jpg"></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size:medium;">The benefits of running extend so far past just the physical. I've never been in as good a shape mentally as I am these days. I sleep like a brick every night. I have so many more hours in my week from not getting shitfaced every Friday and Saturday. I've run a 1:26 half-marathon, finished top-3 in 5km and 10km races, and I won't rest easy until I've bettered the old man's best marathon time of 2:56. These are all things I would never have dreamed of when I started this thread.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p> Cheers!</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<div><span><span> <img src="http://i58.tinypic.com/260ybz9.jpg" alt="260ybz9.jpg"></span></span></div>
Bullethole
Posts
-
-
Looking good Hooroo. Re: the chafing, I've never had an issue on shorter runs but after the HM last year my nipples were chafed as all hell. You don't really notice it while you're running but it stings like buggery afterwards! At least mine weren't bleeding like some other poor bastard's who finished behind me <img src='http://www.daimenhutchison.com/invision/public/style_emoticons/<#EMO_DIR#>/blink.png' class='bbc_emoticon' alt=':lol:' /><br />
<br />
I'm told that wearing natural fibres as opposed to synthetics will lessen the degree of chafing... -
[quote] so beer intake was only about a crate over the entire week. (Gee that sounds a lot in itself!!!!) [/quote]<br />
<br />
That's still 27 standard drinks!!!<br />
<br />
I know you don't need any added motivation Hooroo, but my office is now taking bets on whether you'll make it (they saw me looking at the photos and wanted to know what it was about) so go on, run it for my sake will ya? -
Cheers, I didn't!<br />
<br />
What I also neglected to mention was shortly after the race I went to BK, ordered a Tall Blacks Triple Stack, a BK chicken and a $1 extra hamburger. The lady said "are you sure you want all that sir?", I fixed her an angry glare and said "listen lady, I just ran a half marathon, I think I'm entitled to eat whatever I damn well like!". Then I sat down, took the patty out of the hamburger and put it in the Triple Stack to make a Quadruple Stack. Hooroo, abstain from the BK from hereon in and that is what you have to look forward to my friend... -
Hi Hooroo,<br />
<br />
Good on you for taking this on, running a marathon is a massive achievement and something you can look back on proudly till your dying days (unless of course you die on the day).<br />
<br />
Basically what you should take from my running the Dunners HM last year is that it doesn't matter how fat, useless, lazy, unfit and alcoholic you are, it can be done. Granted my father was a marathon runner so I have the genes, but if you'd seen how I went on my first time on the treadmill 18 months ago you'd have never thought me capable of making it further than the local bakery.<br />
<br />
The best advice I can give you is that every time someone tells you you can't do it, stow it away and remember it and use it as ammunition for later. Basically what kept me going a lot of the time was the desire to prove the doubters wrong. So, encouragement is good, but [i]dis[/i]couragement can be even better if you use it to your advantage.<br />
<br />
I found giving up on booze and junk food far too tough so just limited it to special occasions. Although since I only eat fast food and shit when I'm drunk or hungover it followed that drinking less also meant eating better. Also couldn't help but notice you were smoking a fair bit at the Basin in March, have you given that away yet?<br />
<br />
Also, not that you seem to have much trouble pulling the ladies :evil: but I found the weight I've lost has made a big difference. Not just in pulling ability, but you get way more chicks smiling at you on the street, customers at work making friendly chat etc. And it makes you want to lose even more weight so you automatically get into good habits.<br />
<br />
Anyways, I don't think I posted this at the time I ran it, but here is the report I wrote afterwards, just to give you a bit of a taste of what you're in for <br />
<br />
[quote]<br />
[b] The Bullethole Half-Marathon Challenge [/b]<br />
<br />
PRE RACE: Welcome to the Edgar Centre in South Dunedin for the<br />
commencement of the inaugural Bullethole Half-Marathon Challenge.<br />
Today, I'll be attempting to disprove the commonly-espoused notion that<br />
white men can neither jump nor run. My goal is to complete the 21km<br />
run before the two-hour mark, or my death, whichever comes first.<br />
<br />
I wouldn't say I'm nervous as much as I am deeply concerned in my<br />
ability to run this distance. I haven't run in two weeks due to a<br />
foot injury which is still causing a little bit of discomfort. My<br />
build-up has also been hampered by flu, a sub-Antarctic Dunedin<br />
winter and rampant alcoholism. But now is not is not the time for<br />
excuses, Bullethole. This day has been a long time coming and nothing<br />
less than a 100% effort will suffice. In the greater scheme of<br />
things, what is two hours of bone-jarring, gut-wrenching, burning,<br />
screaming pain?<br />
<br />
We’re about to find out.<br />
<br />
The starter issues his call to arms and Dan and I take a position<br />
towards the front of the field. We glance around at the toned,<br />
serious-looking athletes surrounding us, and take a new position<br />
towards the back of the field. We fit in much better here amongst the<br />
children, geriatrics and people dressed as sheep and ice hockey<br />
players. One minute to go. I'm shitting myself. 30 seconds to go.<br />
Not too late to pull out, surely? Ahhh, fuck it.<br />
<br />
0.5km: It's definitely not the fastest 500m I'll ever run. Dan and I<br />
are caught up in a field so large that it's moving at snail's pace.<br />
No danger of going too hard at the start then.<br />
<br />
1km: As some kind of sadistic joke on the part of the event<br />
organisers, the course doubles back on itself so that we're now<br />
running past the start again. Already the frontrunners have rounded<br />
the bend and are heading in the other direction. I look out for<br />
Evelyn but it's impossible to make out who these runners are, since<br />
they appear as nothing more than a blur accompanied by a faint<br />
whizzing sound.<br />
<br />
2km, 11min 48: Dan and I have weaved our way through the back markers<br />
and the field has opened up considerably, allowing us to pass people<br />
left right and centre. It's a good feeling for sure. I'm quite happy<br />
with the pace we're running at but careful not to overdo it. I can<br />
hear my wise friend Matthew dispensing sage-like advice in my head as I run: "don't go<br />
out too hard Barnya...don't go out too hard Barnya...fuck I got so drunk in<br />
Wellington last night, you won't believe who I hooked up with...don't<br />
go out too hard Barnya".<br />
<br />
4km: We are making excellent progress as we pass through the<br />
industrial area, still weaving through slow-running traffic. Now we<br />
are coming up to a pair of runners tied together: a deaf woman is<br />
running along in front of a blind woman, or at least that's what their<br />
shirts say. I have to wonder how on earth they got in front of us.<br />
Suddenly I'm not so confident of my own abilities.<br />
<br />
5km, 27min: Disaster strikes as we arrive at the first drink station.<br />
Dan needs to piss and makes a beeline for the portaloo but is just<br />
beaten to it by another girl and has to wait. I bid him farewell and<br />
he promises to catch me up, which he no doubt will. I'm still feeling<br />
bloody good, no pain, barely short of breath...it's a piece of piss<br />
this half-marathon lark!<br />
<br />
7km: I'm now heading out of Dunedin along the Port Chalmers Road.<br />
Without Dan I am completely alone, so it's probably time to crank out<br />
a few tunes in my head. I start with a favourite running song of<br />
Matthew and mine, "All These Things That I Have Done" by the Killers.<br />
This is followed closely by "One Headlight" by the Wallflowers.<br />
Singing loudly in your head is one of the best ways of tricking your<br />
body into thinking it's not in pain.<br />
<br />
10km: At no point so far have I felt like I'm not going to make it.<br />
Physically I feel great, my left hamstring has tightened a little but<br />
it's no real cause for concern. I'm still passing people at a great<br />
rate, and what's more I outwardly appear to be in control while those<br />
I'm passing are huffing, puffing and gasping for air. Admittedly most<br />
of them are girls, but still.<br />
<br />
Another head aches, another heart breaks, I'm so much older than I can<br />
take and my affection comes and goes, I need direction to perfection<br />
no no no no help me out, yeah, you know you gotta help me out, yeah,<br />
don't you put me on the backburner you know you gotta help me out,<br />
yeaahhh<br />
<br />
10.5km, 55min: Halfway! A huge psychological boost. I am more or<br />
less on the home stretch, possibly. And on track for 1 hour 50, which<br />
would be a fairly pleasing result. I do have two minor concerns<br />
though, in the forms of two pretty serious hills that I am going to<br />
have to tackle between now and the end of the race. It's on those<br />
hills when we will discover whether I am man or mouse.<br />
<br />
12km: A horrible moment as we round a bend and Port Chalmers hoves<br />
into view for the first time. It is a long, long, long way down the<br />
harbour. A long way.<br />
<br />
13km: But I'm still feeling fucking good! I honestly could not have<br />
expected to be in better physical or mental condition at this point as<br />
I am. I'm employing another of Matthew's time-honoured HM tricks: find a<br />
girl who provides a - how do we say - favourable view from the back<br />
and use her as your pace setter. Even at this point though they're<br />
too slow to stay with me, until I draw alongside a ginger version of<br />
Dan Carter, and we quickly form an unspoken runners’ bond. Sounds a<br />
bit gay I know, but you'd only really understand if you were 14km in<br />
to the most gruelling physical challenge of your life.<br />
<br />
15km: Disaster very nearly strikes as I approach the third drinks<br />
station. A boy of about 10 or 11 holds out a sponge for me, but just<br />
as I am about to take it off him, he inexplicably drops it.<br />
Instinctively I reach down and forwards to grab it as it drops, and I<br />
feel my hamstring tighten. For one horrible split second I fear my<br />
race might be about to meet a tragic end, but thankfully I regain my<br />
stride, throw the sponge back angrily in the direction of the boy, and<br />
trudge on. I can't help but feel that my condition is starting to<br />
deteriorate. They say elite runners hit the wall at 30km, so it's not<br />
a stretch to imagine that I've hit mine at 15.<br />
<br />
15.5km: Dan Carter and I let out a collective "FUCK" as the first<br />
gutbuster hill hoves into view. Aside from the fact that the fatter<br />
you are, the harder it is to get up a hill, I always find them most<br />
demoralising because no matter how close you get to the crest, it<br />
always seems to get a bit further away. Dan Carter and I grit our<br />
teeth and begin the climb, and slowly but surely we reel it in. As I<br />
head back down the other side I silently pat myself on the back for a<br />
job well done, then realise that I've left Dan in my wake and slow<br />
down to let him pull alongside once more.<br />
<br />
16km: That hill has fucked me. I'm blowing a lot harder now than I<br />
was 5 minutes ago, that's for sure. 5km to go Barnya!! I check my<br />
watch. WHAT THE FUCK?!?! It says 11.50am. I cannot possibly have<br />
been running for 2 hours 20. Or could I? Have I lost my mind? All's I know is that I am<br />
now deeply entrenched in a world of pain.<br />
<br />
It's time to try for another pain-deferring tactic, which is to<br />
perform difficult calculations in my head. This is about the only<br />
time in my life I wish I had an iPod, but I can make do with my own<br />
brain. Georgina is currently somewhere in transit between<br />
Christchurch and London. This HM is looking like taking me about 2<br />
hours. Georgina's plane, travelling at 900km/h, is covering the 21km<br />
distance every 1 minute and 24 seconds. I feel so much better knowing<br />
this. In other news, I hurt.<br />
<br />
17km: A familiar voice behind me yells my name. Dan has finally<br />
caught up to me! Not a minute too soon either, because I'm really<br />
starting to fade. Dan drags me along for a kilometre or so through<br />
Port Chalmers as we go past Jess and Rach on the side of the road, but<br />
he's clearly got more gas in the tank than I do, as does Dan Carter.<br />
It is with great sadness that we part, but I know I have to do it<br />
alone from here on in.<br />
<br />
18km: Agony. An old bearded man, possibly Moses, is dispensing drinks by the side of the<br />
course. "How far, sir?", I gasp. Three kilometres is the answer.<br />
Fuck.<br />
<br />
18.5km:<br />
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier<br />
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier<br />
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier<br />
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier<br />
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier<br />
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier<br />
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier<br />
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier<br />
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier<br />
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier<br />
<br />
19km: And now, at last, here it is. The final hill. This heartless<br />
monster is all that stands before me and half-marathon running<br />
immortality. It looms menacingly and forebodingly, like a<br />
morning-after dogan when you've consumed large quantities of beer and<br />
curry the night before.<br />
<br />
I'm at the base of it now, trying as hard as I can to convince my legs<br />
that this really isn't that big a deal, seriously. Trouble is, I<br />
don't believe it myself. This slope appears to have no end, it just<br />
curves around the side of the hill and out of sight. I am deeply<br />
troubled by this.<br />
<br />
Two girls are running next to me. One is yelling slogans of<br />
encouragement at the other, such as "come on! You're doing well!" and<br />
"nearly there!". Her friend is responding only in exasperated gasps<br />
and the occasional "fuck". I begin my ascent and I use fit girl's<br />
encouraging words as my own motivation. Come on Bullethole! Six<br />
months of training for this, and I'm fucked if you're gonna throw this<br />
away on this piece of shit hill. Somehow personifying the hill makes<br />
it easier to hate. This hill is Sue Bradford, and on the other side<br />
of it is her battered and dismembered carcass.<br />
<br />
19.5km: Fuck fuck fuck fuck. This hill is positively neverending. It<br />
just carries on winding up and up the hill. I feel like I'm running<br />
up a gravel spiral slide. Some distance behind (and below) me, fit<br />
girl is still trying to coax her friend to the finish. I feel<br />
suddenly nauseous. Oh fuck, I'm gonna spew. Still the hill drags on<br />
and on with nothing but pure evil on its heart, much like Sue<br />
Bradford. I'm almost retching. Fuck, I am gonna spew. Wait! No I'm<br />
not. Or am I?<br />
<br />
I suspect I may have just died, because straight ahead of me at the<br />
top of a long straight is another kindly looking old man with a beard, beckoning<br />
me forward like a high-priced hooker silhouetted against the light at the end of the tunnel. Somehow I am still running. I reach the man now and he greets me with a huge smile. "Not far to go now, all downhill, well done". I've done it! I've fucking done it! I'm at the top of the hill. I've conquered my Everest, shattered the pain barrier, all that<br />
kinda bullshit. Far below my feet, Otago Harbour spreads out in front<br />
of me in the spring sunshine and far off in the distance, I can see<br />
the finish line. I high-five a slightly bemused middle-aged lady as she walks her dog<br />
in the opposite direction.<br />
<br />
20km: One kilometre to go. It's all downhill, but it's still going to<br />
be the longest kilometre of my life. I'm running on fumes now. I'm<br />
focusing on a spot on the road 20m in front of me, daring neither to<br />
look up nor down. Every part of my body aches. I'm not so much<br />
breathing as desperately (and very audibly) gasping for air. Now<br />
Scott Stapp is singing "Running" by Evermore. Stapp has a lot to<br />
answer for, and to be fair if I met him I'd probably punch him in the<br />
mouth, but right now he is the only thing keeping me going.<br />
<br />
21km: 100 metres to go. The world has taken on a distinctly surreal<br />
appearance at this moment. People are yelling and clapping but they<br />
feel 100 miles away. I'm rounding the last bend now, almost there.<br />
Come on Bullethole! I'm gonna make it, I'm totally gonna make it.<br />
I'm on the last straight now. I pull back the throttle, lengthen out<br />
the strides, cross the white line in 1 hour 53 minutes, and collapse<br />
in a heap on the ground.<br />
<br />
POST RACE: I struggle to my feet and look around in a state of<br />
bewilderment. I feel like I'm really drunk. Evelyn sees me and comes<br />
to offer her congratulations. She of course looks fresh as a daisy,<br />
but that's probably because she finished 15 minutes ago. Dan, Jess<br />
and Rach locate me and Dan buys me a sausage. Slowly but surely I<br />
begin to regain a grip on reality. There is much swearing, falling to<br />
one knee and drinking of water, but eventually I am in some kind of<br />
state to walk back to the car and head off home.<br />
<br />
Well mother fuckers, I did it. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't quick, but<br />
it's done. One Half-Marathon successfully negotiated.<br />
<br />
Let me finish by thanking the people who helped me on this running<br />
odyssey. Firstly the good folk at thesilverfern.com for all their<br />
health, diet and nutrition tips. To every asshole that called me a<br />
faggot or a fat fluffybunny out their car windows while I was training, when<br />
was the last time you cocksmacks ran a half marathon? To all my<br />
friends who have encouraged me along the way, thanks team. I love my<br />
fans. You guys are what keep me going.<br />
<br />
So, where to now? Will I run again next year?<br />
<br />
Well, they say that your first Half-Marathon is always the hardest.<br />
All I will say is, I fucking well hope so. [/quote] -
Nah, I'm on the Southern Golds bro. Ugh.
-
I did it. I DID IT! I FUCKING DID IT!<br />
<br />
I ran the Half Marathon.<br />
<br />
Don't think it's really sunk in yet.<br />
<br />
I ran the Half Marathon<br />
<br />
Unofficial time of 1 hour 53 minutes<br />
<br />
Fuck.<br />
<br />
Pictures and a full report to follow once I have gathered my thoughts and consumed a large quantity of beer.<br />
<br />
But let me say here and now a big thanks to everyone who has contributed to this thread. I was thinking of you guys out there (not in that way, you bastards). Fuckin' A -
Oops forgot to update!<br />
<br />
Thursday - rest day<br />
Friday - flat, half hour run. 6km<br />
Saturday - rest day<br />
Sunday - half hour hilly run<br />
Meant to run today but not feeling well so will do one when I get back to Dunedin tomorrow instead.<br />
<br />
Freg 8km is 30mins, that's nuts! I'll be happy to break two hours in this HM.<br />
<br />
My knees are alright and there are no aches and pains thus far, which is a minor miracle given that it is WAY TOO FUCKING COLD TO RUN!! argh<br />
<br />
Nick, I just map my runs on Google Earth. -
There will be photos...<br />
<br />
Tuesday: Day off<br />
<br />
Wednesday: 6km hill run (up a reasonably steep 1km hill and back down three times). This was a struggle. Probably because I have no power in my calves at all, I feel like I'm just going nowhere on sustained uphills. Took about 37mins.<br />
<br />
Thankfully the HM course is reasonably flat with one big hill towards the end. -
Monday 16/7: 8 weeks from the HM now.<br />
<br />
30min very hilly run at a strong pace, went well except some asshole on the side of the road called me a fat fluffybunny. Nice. Got another hilly run on Wednesday then two longer flatter runs to end the week.<br />
<br />
Running in Dunedin in July is easy, it's so cold that you don't feel any pain at all. Ice kinda sucks though.<br />
<br />
MR: You're on. -
Right listen up you jokers,<br />
<br />
The challenge is on again and this time I'm going all the way. I have been secretly training all year away from your mocking eyes and now we are entering endgame, 10 weeks from the HM.<br />
<br />
This year I have a program with my runs mapped out for me and decent base fitness. Have been running three times a week and scaling back my drinking. Have done a couple of 15-16km runs no problems, just need to work up some pace. Aim is to run it sub 1hr 50.<br />
<br />
Right, commence abuse and general piss-taking, 'tis I who will have the last laugh. Giggity. -
So in a sad post-script to this tragic tale, I just measured out my exact 8km training route on Google Earth...turns out that it's actually closer to 9.5km!!! That means I was far fitter and running much faster than I'd assumed, and my longest training run was in fact 19km, only 2km short of a full half marathon. Well whaddaya know?<br />
<br />
But not to worry, team. I get back to Dunedin first week of January, whereupon the Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge will enter its second season. This time there may even be guest appearances, public tabloid bust-ups and nudity, but then again there may not. Stay tuned. -
Champion!<br />
<br />
I'm glad this thread has inspired someone... <br />
<br />
Enjoy the game tonight mate, you've sure earned it and it should be 3 points in the bag for us. -
Nutri-what?<br />
<br />
Nah I've got cereals and wholegrain and bread and shit, but I'm really not a morning person. It's mentally sapping enough just to get up and stumble into the shower without having to worry about making food as well. It's all about setting up a routine in the morning and sticking to it, then it's easy, I've been trying to get to bed earlier and up earlier recently but shit it's hard when it's so damn cold.<br />
<br />
It's not all plain sailing being a student Nick, there are plenty of hidden costs to worry about. For instance it was my turn to buy the couches this week.<br />
<br />
And further to Barnsey's updates, I must admit I've sunk pretty low at times in the past, but it'd be a truly horrible day if I resorted to assuming a different online identity to talk up my non-existent sex life -
I apologise for Barnsey, you can't entirely blame him though, he recently broke up with his woman-thing and has been living vicariously through me since then...slim pickings at the best of times. But no, I didn't put away a French bird in the library. I don't doubt that that sort of thing does go on in the public library though <br />
<br />
Barnsey is actually a real person, the pride of Waikaia in fact. I believe Canerbry has met him although he mightn't remember it. I thought it was pretty clear we're not the same person because he makes the occasional reasoned and well-informed rugby related comment....<br />
<br />
All I will say is count yourselves lucky you just have to read his comments on the fern, I have to put up with his antics week in week out.<br />
<br />
Sunday 24 September 2006:<br />
<br />
8km run in the glorious spring sunshine. Not as comfortable as I was before my hiatus but I'll get back into it every day now or close enough to it.<br />
<br />
Breakfast: none<br />
Lunch: beef curry and naan bread<br />
Dinner: pasta bake with meatballs<br />
<br />
Weekends are always a nightmare eating-wise. Unless I go to the supermarket and buy all the ingredients to cook something just for myself, which is wasteful, I don't have much choice but to eat processed shit. My mother is overseas and hasn't sent me a care package in months. If you feel like sponsoring a starving student by sending him vital sustenance to get him through his gruelling day, PM me.<br />
<br />
Oh and Brakdov, good luck man! I can't even think about running 42km, one day though I'll get there. -
I don't remember anything but apparently she was butt ugly. Good night though.<br />
<br />
A fresh assault begins today with a run this arvo, will report back if I survive. And I have not finished my thesis sadly, as evidenced by the email I just got from my supervisor with a list of comments and suggestions from here to Timbuktu. -
I didn't make it. <img src='http://www.daimenhutchison.com/invision/public/style_emoticons/<#EMO_DIR#>/sad.png' class='bbc_emoticon' alt=':)' /><br />
<br />
I apologise to everyone I have let down, you guys have been absolutely fantastic and believe you me I am far more disappointed in myself than you are. But my head is in a bad space at the moment - work commitments and relationship fuck ups and family illness and all the usual shit - and I just wasn't mentally or physically prepared. I do however believe the training and hard work I put in has been of benefit going forward, to coin a phrase.<br />
<br />
Feel free to further bring me down by posting insults and abuse but I won't be reading TSF until I hand in my thesis next month.<br />
<br />
Nevertheless the fatbusting is ongoing. Thank you and God bless. Over and out. -
[size=7][color=red]3kg[/color][/size] fatbusted in 8 weeks.<br />
<br />
Status: still a fat fluffybunny -
Thursday 31/8<br />
<br />
Easy 40min jog today. Felt a bit flat so want to save myself up for a big one on Saturday, and for once I'm not talking about getting on the lash. <br />
<br />
Breakfast: banana<br />
Lunch: chicken foccacia<br />
Dinner: sausages, eggs and beans on toast (flatmates still out of town, must remember to get the locks changed before they get back)<br />
<br />
Ok so I'm now into the last 10 days before the run, what should I be doing in particular during this time? Anything I should be eating or drinking? Going to do three more runs: Saturday, Monday, Wednesday, then the HM is on Sunday.<br />
<br />
Thoughts? -
[quote name='dogmeat']<br />
Helps if you're thick I suppose. Get yr headspace rightb and you'll manage it. Imagine the satisfaction of proving everyone wrong. <br />
[/quote]<br />
<br />
Yeah I think that's pretty much it  Thanks alot for that Dogmeat, yeah it's gonna be a pretty emotional moment if I make it across the line. There may be tears, there may be dry rooting, there will be beer.<br />
<br />
THE FINAL PUSH<br />
<br />
Tuesday 29/8...decided I was ready today and ran beyond Ross Creek to the foot of Flagstaff and back. I made it but had to run up two of the longest steepest hills in the Dunedin in the process. Don't know if my legs will ever be the same.<br />
<br />
So 12km (approx), 75min, at an average rate of 9km/h. Running at that speed in the HM will get me there in 2 hours 20...people have run full marathons in less time than that <img src='http://www.daimenhutchison.com/invision/public/style_emoticons/<#EMO_DIR#>/blink.png' class='bbc_emoticon' alt=':blink:' /><br />
<br />
Though in my favour I do run a pretty undulating course in training, whereas the HM course is more or less dead flat, following the shoreline as it does. The weather will hopefully have warmed up by a few degrees, I will be able to rehydrate during the run (presumably, I mean they must have drink stations), I will have mates to pace me and the adrenaline will be pumping full blast. <br />
<br />
Breakfast: banana<br />
Lunch: Chicken fettucine slice<br />
Dinner: 160g scotch fillet (flatmates out of town - woo hoo!)<br />
<br />
Thesis: 6,678 words down, 11,322 words to go.
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
I'M DOING THE AUCKLAND MARATHON!!!!
I'M DOING THE AUCKLAND MARATHON!!!!
I'M DOING THE AUCKLAND MARATHON!!!!
I'M DOING THE AUCKLAND MARATHON!!!!
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
Happy Birthday Fatbusters-- 6 months!
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)
The Barnya Half-Marathon Challenge (on again)