Beyond 100 Marathons

Having completed my 100 th marathon in 2017, 2018 as a running year was always likely to suffer by comparison, and so it proved (after the Lord Mayor’s Show and all that)… In terms of organized events, a total of seven marathons (including one ultra) was the lowest number I had managed since 2011, the year of the nearly doomed Coast to Coast Challenge – see ‘How Not to Run 100 Marathons’ (just after Chapter 12) - https://www.amazon.co.uk/How-Not-Run-100-Marathons/dp/0244412073/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1538561380&sr=8-2&keywords=nicholas+turner+how+not+to+run .   On the flipside, 2018 was a spectacular year for general living and holidays with Gill.   I’m yet to consider in any detail whether there is a direct correlation between these two matters.   I have run just under 2,900 kilometres during the calendar year (an average of just under 8 kilometers per day).   An increase from 2017, but well below the levels I reached in each of the four years fro...

“Twas the day before Christmas, when all through the house Only one creature was stirring, a big, fat, man mouse…” It is hard to explain what possesses a man to set a 5am alarm on Christmas Eve and scrape the frost from the car before embarking on a 2 hour 15 minute drive from the Peak District to Bletchley for the Enigma Christmas Cracker Marathon.  I put it at least partially down to wanting to erase the Ghost of Marathon Past, being the recent eight hour ultra marathon ordeal in the Dubai desert.   Bletchley is famously where the German’s Enigma code was cracked during World War II, a not insignificant event in determining the outcome of the war.   On arrival, I had my own code to crack, as I was travelling old school, with printed AA Route Planner directions, rather than a sat nav.   As a result of having missed a direction or taken a wrong turn at one of the countless roundabouts, I was somewhat lost on arrival in Milton Keynes and forced...

Despite the usual feeling at the end of the Abu Dhabi Marathon on Friday morning (7 December) – i.e. that I may never again be able to run - by Sunday morning I had recovered sufficiently to return to my usual morning routine of a 10 kilometre-ish run before work.   This gave me some confidence that I would be physically able to tackle the 50 kilometer Al Marmoom Ultra Marathon which I had signed for on Saturday, 15 December.   Giving me less confidence was the mandatory kit list which I was required to obtain to enable me entry into said Ultra Marathon.   This included: an up to date ECG (electrocardiogram) scan, doctor’s certificate confirming fitness to participate, anti-venom pump, evidence of accident/repatriation insurance, signaling mirror, headlamp, sahara cap, whistle and aluminum survival sheet.   It sounded like the sort of list one might receive when heading off for a fun family holiday with Bear Grylls (as it turned out, my whistle was a Bear Grylls’ end...

    Whilst the names ascribed to the chosen alarm tones on my iPhone – “Crystals” and “Night Owl” – may sound like the sort of soothing melodies someone may opt for as part of their home birthing package, when they sound at full volume at 3am on a Friday morning, they are as welcome and soothing as an electric shock.   Once I had managed to clear my head sufficiently to remember who I was, where I was and why I had been cruelly awoken at such an unearthly time, I clicked into marathon gear.   Gill had very kindly offered to arrange a Kareem (UAE Uber equivalent) pick up to ensure that I was safely delivered to the start line and asked to be given a little shake when the booking needed to made.   Despite my brain only functioning at around 30%, I managed a (to my mind) decent visual gag by waking Gill with a small stuffed Sheikh doll (aka “ a little sheikh ”).   Sadly, this hilarity won only luke warm plaudits from a very tired Gill…   ...

My recovery from marathon number 111 (unlucky for some) was remarkably swift (for a man of my age, weight, etc.), helped in part by a national holiday the day after the return from Kuwait, which was spent primarily horizontally at the luxurious Summersault Beach Club which sits proudly under the seven star Burj Al Arab Hotel.   As an aside, you know you may be pushing your limits when you spend an afternoon on a sun lounger within five feet of a Premier League footballer (Hector Bellerin of Arsenal) and his mini entourage.   We so fancy…   In the shortened working week which followed, I returned to my usual morning regime of a 5:45 am alarm call (sometimes snoozed once, or twice) and 10-ish kilometre run around one of the various routes I have mapped out around my apartment in Downtown Dubai (I pretty much have five variations so can take a different one each morning).   The weather has recently dropped from the searing summer heat to very pleasant mornings,...