Sunday 21 July 2013

It ain't half hot mum.

Photograph Quiz:


Photo no. 161:  Why were Coventry Godiva Harriers worried about this lot in 1910? (An it were nowt to do wi ow much the cud sup.)
So that’s it Blog, School is out for another year. And in years past when I was part of Mr Cameroon’s dad’s dad’s Great British work force, it was up with the mileage and on with the Black plastic bin bags and sweat, sweat, sweat. And then, come along a hot race, it was easi peasi lemons etc.. My hottest race, temperature wise, was a marathon in Southern Germany which I won by about twenty minutes. Blog, I kid you not …. Twenty, two zero, 20 minutes. The marathon involved almost two identical laps and the starting temperature was well into the nineties! The first lap incorporated a half marathon which I totally forgot all about once the gun went. I had come second in an international marathon race six days before and was a bit weary .. so the plan was to set off fast, get rid of the field quickly as I suspected that they would, quite naturally, be worried about the excessively hot temperature, and then I could settle down to an easy run. Forgetting about the half incorporated marathon, I couldn’t understand why runners were sticking to my suicidal pace .. but come five miles (eight kilometres to you Blog) they had all peeled off. Was I relieved or was I relieved. Unfortunately. Because the marathon consisted of those two similar laps, the half marathon runners had consumed all the water on the first lap!!!! Try running half a marathon with no sponge in searing heat, the temperature climbing higher and higher as the race, or procession, unfolded. Needless to say, it was a bit messy when I finished. My muscles would not do as they were told. I was like a sufferer from Saint Vitus Dance with a bad case of the twitches. A very bad case, indeed. Blog, I kid you not. Every time I have had a daily trudge this last ten days and see joggers out there struggling, sweating, I have to smile. “Get your black bin bags on and sweat, sweat, sweat. You know it makes sense!”
                            Colin

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