Swimming breakthrough and #27 - Keep on running

Swimming breakthrough

An artist's impression of how I could look in the pool

So last week's swimming lesson felt like an unmitigated disaster. I came away feeling despondent and, if I'm honest, ready to jack it all in.

But after a few pep talks from various people at work this week (Sam and Chris, there's your name check) there I was, back at Wombourne Leisure Centre at 8.30 this morning...ready to go again.

It did not start well.

I am now ready to accept that I can not do the breaststroke. It's like patting your head and rubbing your tummy (or is it the other way around?) - my brain just isn't wired for that sort of co-ordination.

So, I'm going back to what feels more natural...the front crawl. It's how I was taught (well, shouted at) to swim when I was younger and what appears to come more naturally. Within 5 minutes, my buoyancy belt was off...and, albeit with the help of a float, I was enjoying being in the water.

My technique needs a lot of work and I still need to get over the face in the water thing, but with Clive's help, I think I might just be able to do this. Clive says the key is short, sharp feet movements - not floppy feet. Clive, next week I shall have floppy feet no longer!

Could this be the breakthrough?

Run Forrest, Run...

Number 27 on my list of 30 things to do before I'm 30 simply reads..."Run at least two half marathons (one at least sub 1:55m)"

If ever the phrase 'easier said than done' was applicable...



Run Forrest, Run: Forrest Gump; great film, profound motto, inspirational beard

I have a love-hate thing going on with running. I've never been great at long distance running - I've never really been the right build. Short(ish), stocky and lacking stamina (I know, never a good thing) - I'm yet to see a Kenyan Olympic winner possess these characteristics.

I also used to dread those cross-country runs at Highfields on drizzly Monday mornings in January. Clever trick from the PE department, they never warned you in advance it was just 'today...cross country'...damn.

The skinny, tall kids always finished first; the girls mostly walked around in packs, I suspect discussing who's better, Westlife or Backstreet Boys; whilst I came in around half way, caked in mud, freezing cold and dreading next lesson. As an aside, I never quite figured out why the girls were allowed to wear jumpers and joggers to do PE and the boys had to wear hideous maroon rugby shirts and shorts, regardless of the arctic biting weather...always seemed grossly unfair?

But over a short distance, I used to be rather quick. It may sound strange to those who didn't know me at school - but I really was fast over 100 and 200 metres. In Year 9 I was fifth fastest in the 100m in the whole of Wolverhampton (that sounds better than came 2nd last in the final!). I was also moved from playing in defence to a striker role at Windsor Boys. My darting runs would split defences and hapless centre backs simply couldn't catch me...they didn't need to. Inevitably I'd either trip over my own feet, hit a shot that went out for a throw-in or simply psychologically crumble as the 14 year old opposition goalkeeper psyched me out.

But I was fast. I was clocking up times of 11-point-something seconds over 100 metres. I doubt I would have ever gotten any better - but then alcohol, junk food and relationships kicked in and, well, I can no longer run the 100m in 11-point-something seconds!

Still, I used to really enjoy sprinting - and one thing I really regret over the past ten years or so is letting myself go and gradually stopping doing the sports I used to love. Other interests took over and all of a sudden I was looking quite doughy and my fitness was frankly appalling. I believe it's known as a comfort zone? But I've fought my way back from that...

A few years ago my brothers and I decided we were going to run the Wolverhampton Half Marathon to raise money for the Alzheimer's Society in memory of my Nana Joy. We trained for months leading up to it - West Park in Wolverhampton is an ideal training circuit...exactly one mile around. It's safe to say I was the weakest link of the three. Ian is spindly and very fit. Alex is fairly athletic too and despite asthma and a slightly dodgy knee in the weeks leading up to the run - he was not to be perturbed. I however huffed, puffed and wheezed myself over the finish line. It hurt...a lot. In fairness though we did cross the line in a respectable time of 1hr 57m. A year later I came in at just over 2 hours...remarkable since I had a fairly nasty bout of satay chicken-inspired food poisoning courtesy of a Cardiff-based chinese buffet 24 hours earlier. I think being sick going through Bilbrook held me up a tad in the end.

But since then I'm a stone lighter, I'm back playing football regularly, I've even taken up racketball too. And, physically, I feel fitter than I probably have for 14 years or so.

So - onwards and upwards. Two half marathons to do - and I need to beat my personal best. Looks like Wolverhampton could be the first attempt - before Birmingham in October. In a drunken state I also seem to have agreed to run the Oldham half marathon too!

So - the next 18 months will see me running...quite a lot. Here's something from the Spencer Davis Group to keep me going...