A load of sexy tripe?

      Dear Blog,

Back from God’s own country again Blog. The moor land fires are out and and the tripe shops have reopened. The shortage of onions caused by the moorland conflagration has been ameliorated by the deft use of daffodil bulbs, the flowers of which have luckily just died back. I do find the yellow colouring used in the flowers upsets my stomach. Do you find that Blog? The E number involved is probably on the IAAF banned list. I appreciate every one’s congratulations for my London Marathon run for my two children’s charities but if you take a reality check, four hours is pretty dire, isn’t it? Even you could blog round in that time Blog without too much effort. To say I missed my p.b. by nearly two hours just about puts it in context. At least in GOC* people I knew were a little more blunt; ‘Stop for chips did you Colin?’, ‘Gotten lost ont moor did the lad?’. That’s the northern way of being complimentary!

Another example of the generosity extended beyond what might normally been expected; back in the early 70s before even the USA had been bitten by the jogging bug, a friend in Coventry had started a jogging group in a park in Coventry. His idea was that people liked to be fit and if you exercised without too much strain and made it socially pleasant with a group of like minded individuals, no one would feel self conscious. Athletes running in the roads in the early 70s, had to constantly run a gauntlet of abuse, I kid you not. Derision was the norm, runners weren’t! The group was arguably the embryonic start of the veteran movement in the midland area. The word ‘jogging’ was still alien; their mantra was ‘Run for Fun’, the logo I had stencilled on the back of my wet suit at the European Games. Not that there was such a thing as a ‘wet suit’ in those days. It was a red M. & S. pac a mac, which my wife had shortened for me, buttoned up the front. Three weeks after the Games, the garment was to suffer a fate worse than death, when we put it in a laundrette drier while on a very wet holiday in Scotland. Even the plastic buttons shrivelled!!

After a few months with the group, running for fun, my friend got the itch to do a marathon. Two problems:- he was a long distance swimmer of some renown and therefore carried excessive blubber and no race existed in the world that catered for very slow runners. In fact, slow runners didn’t exist, with a few exceptions. Nuneaton Harriers kindly allowed a local pensioner to take part in their annual ‘10’ miler; but he was an old athlete and was quite happy to set off about 30 minutes before the main field started, thereby causing no official having to wait too long for him to finish. No marathon organiser would accept an entry from a 5 hour ‘jogger’ as it meant a couple of hours wait between the penultimate finisher and my mate!! Yorkshire generosity provided the exception. The organisers of the annual Huddersfield Marathon were willing to oblige. Come the day, my mate ‘trundled off after the field’ [his words] and was dully lapped as expected. From the Longwood Track the marathon climbed out towards the Lancashire [cross myself] border, completed two hilly laps around Holmfirth [pre ‘Last of the Summer Wine’ days], and swooped back down towards Huddersfield for the last 6 miles. My friend made several mistakes which lead to him quitting totally exhausted at 21 miles. He ate no breakfast, he ran in a full heavy track suit which lead to dehydration and he got dispirited by the traffic being so troublesome. I happened to be nearby at my parents at the time, so I went over to help him, not realising he was so ill prepared. He never did do another marathon. By the time the ‘people’s marathons’ had started, he had long since retired from ‘trundling’ and returned to his old love of long distance swimming competition. The organisers were generous about his performance however and did not complain about a d.n.f. despite the extra effort his entry had entailed. But then, that’s Yorkshire folk for you! Co-incidentally, running a steeplechase at that very track, was the first time I had my photo in the national press – the News of the World no less – I’ll try and find the cutting for you Blog, if you send me the usual cheque for my two children’s charities Tiny Tims Children’s Centre and Newlife. On the same theme Blog, have you ever done a steeplechase in bare feet?? More on that soon if I remember!!!

Colin