My Greatest Triumph Yet

In October 2024, I get a call from my brother. He sounds excited. He says, “Have you seen that they're doing a Christmas version of the Chilly 10k at Castle Coombe?”

Like me, this jolly fat man will travel great distances in exchange for food.

I tell him that, no, I haven't heard about this. But we've already done the race a couple of times now - and my last visit to the track wasn't exactly a fond memory for me. But Scott won't be easily dissuaded from his prize. He says that people are allowed to run in fancy dress, that there’s also a children’s Santa run later in the day, and that there will be mince pies given out on the finish line. I um and ah and hem and haw for a few moments, trying to find the politest way to decline or think up the best possible excuse – perhaps I’m having my leg hair permed or maybe he’d believe that running is against my newfound religion. But then Scott says the only sentence that could possibly change my mind.

“If you do it, you get a flashing medal.”

 With those words still echoing in my mind, we once again find ourselves on the starting line at Castle Coombe race circuit. This is my fourth visit to the course and apprehension is filling my heart, clouding me with bad memories of my last visit. As with the first time I ran the circuit, we’re in the middle of a horrendous storm with winds reaching sixty miles an hour in various parts of the country. The temperature is bitterly cold, made even more unbearable by the wide open space of the circuit and the relative lack of cover. So far it’s business as usual. All we have to do is complete three laps of the track and get back in the nice warm car.

But this time, there’s an added wrinkle in our run. We have the pressure of a goal. Back when we mentioned to our family that we were running this circuit again, Scott said that he wanted to finish it in under an hour, a small personal goal of his. I laughed it off – after all, one hour two minutes was my best time in the 10k for the last several years. Then my uncle spoke up and said, “If you can do it – both of you – in under an hour, I’ll give you a hundred quid each.”

Suddenly it wasn’t such a light-hearted jog around a racetrack. Suddenly it was a huge personal milestone to conquer.

Scott and I share a few pre-race jokes together, shuffling from foot to foot in the cold. We glance around and spot the pacemakers, positioning ourselves closer to the fifty five minute runner and putting the one hour pacer at our backs. There are a few hundred runners at the circuit on this cold Sunday morning in December. Quite a few of them are in fancy dress. I can’t help but wonder how many of them are doing this for that promised flashing medal or if anyone else’s uncle has promised them a hundred smackaroos for the privilege.

My view of the starting line and all the runners ahead.

Yes, I’m nervous, for a multitude of reasons. Firstly, I know that Scott has worked hard on his pace. He’s sent me the odd screenshot of his training in the last couple of months, showing that he’s able to smash 5k in thirty minutes easily. For him, finishing this course in less than an hour should be a simple enough task. Secondly, I’m remembering all the mental struggles I had while completing this circuit the year before and how much it has weighed on me ever since. Thirdly, we won’t win the money unless both of us finish in less than one hour; I can’t let my slow pace spoil things for Scott.

The race begins with a huge cheer. A bubble machine blows foamy “snow” across the start line, splattering everyone as we cross. Unlike all the other races I’ve completed, this time we’re running in an anti-clockwise direction. I assume that this is because of the strong winds blowing across the tarmac today; at times, it hits us from the side with such force that it’s hard not to stumble.

But we begin well enough. Scott and I keep a close eye on our pacer in front. We make good progress, moving up the pack and finding a good spot among the throng of other runners. Some – like us – decided against wearing fancy dress and opted for (comparatively) warm running gear. But there are still a fair few people wearing a variety of amusing costumes. I see giant wrapped presents, elves, snowmen and women, the odd Santa, a couple of fairies, and one man in full Grinch-Santa getup, complete with neon green face paint that somehow doesn’t drip down his face by the end.

About halfway through the first lap, I find myself getting too hot. I end up taking off my thick Christmas pudding hat and warm gloves, letting a bit of cold air cool my bare skin. It takes a good long while to find a decent setup that keeps me at the right temperature – I end up rolling my sleeves partway and using my chin-covering snood as a headband. 

 Halfway around the first lap, Scott glances behind us and points out that the sixty minute pacer is nowhere in sight. So far, we’re doing good. We’re going strong. I’m still feeling good and breathing well. Everyone around us has hit their stride and I’m using a few people ahead to keep my pace consistent. There’s a good vibe, with a couple of people cracking jokes and chatty casually as we go.

As the first lap ends, we run past a table of water and grab some plastic cups. This is where I start to fall behind. I have to slow down to drink. Scott doesn’t slow down, so he ends up chucking half the cup in his own face. But once I’m finished drinking, I can’t accelerate to catch him. Scott is now several metres ahead of me.

Now he starts to pull away. I tell him to keep going and do his best. I’m the middle of a group of people running at a good gallop and the last thing I want to do is push too hard and burn out during the second lap. I watch my brother get further and further ahead until I’m not sure which of the distance blobs is him. It doesn’t matter. All I can do is forge ahead and give it my all.

The second lap turns into the third. Casual chatter has dried up by now. My wife waves from the small crowd of chilly-looking people at the start line. I keep going, putting all my concentration into maintaining a good, consistent pace. I don’t need to be the fastest, I just need to keep going.

Professional runners start to lap us more and more. The fastest have already finished, turning in a final time of just over thirty-odd minutes. If I was that fast, I’d do these events more often.

Around halfway through the third and final lap, I glance behind me and see a sight that makes my heart skip a beat. The sixty minute pacer is in view. It’s a blonde woman with a determined smile and she’s gaining on me.

I push faster. The final corner snaps us back onto the last long stretch toward home, complete with a few dips and valleys. My lungs still feel good – not burning or bursting. I’m breathing well and managing a good intake. Even my thighs aren’t screaming in frustration. I have that David Goggins quote echoing through my mind once again: “Finish strong!”

People around me start to fall behind. I want to yell at them – come on, we’re almost there, don’t slow down now! – but instead I lower my head and push on. As people get slower, I get faster. I’m working my way up the pack now, getting quicker and quicker as a distance smear draws closer and transforms into the finish line.

Friends and families line up along the final tunnel, clapping and cheering us all home. My wife is there, whooping and hollering for me. My brother is there, yelling, “You’ve got this!” I push on, on, on, determined to beat the bloody course and I race to the line, closely matched by a man dressed as a Christmas tree.

Finally, it’s over. It’s done. I stop running and catch my breath. I collect my medal and eat a miniature mince pie and check my time. My jaw drops.

Fifty eight minutes and fifty seven seconds.

My fastest 10k in almost five years.

I couldn’t be happier. We both smashed our target goal. We did it.

Two bros, finishing in 56 and 58 minutes respectively.

One year after my worst run of all time, I returned to that circuit and enjoyed my greatest triumph to date. What a wonderful feeling. I set a new personal best, had a great time, and won a crisp hundred pounds into the bargain. Oh – and the medal? It’s very cool and it lights up.

Worth every metre.

My Worst Run Ever

I've been running on and off (mostly on) for around six and a half years now - where the time goes, I cannot say. Since the first time I laced up my trainers, I've had plenty of good runs and more than a few sessions that were less than fun. I'm thinking about the time I ran thirteen long, tedious miles in constant drizzling rain, or the time(s) I forced myself to go out even though it was near-freezing, or the times my body couldn't get into the groove.

They can't all be good...

But even with all those under my belt, I can confidently say that my worst run ever was the November 2023 Castle Coombe Chilly 10k, as I touched on briefly before. It wasn't the coldest. It wasn't the wettest. It was nowhere near the longest. But it was the run I will always look back on as the single hardest and most frustrating.

What was it that made the run so damned difficult? In a nutshell, it was entirely mental. Nothing more, nothing less. I allowed the day to get inside my head. No, I couldn't honestly say why. Maybe it was because I'd taken time off after the Chippenham Half Marathon (perhaps too much time?) and struggled to get my head back in the game. I had only gone for a few runs between the two events, and most of these had been brief jaunts on the treadmill. At the time, I believed that I was doing well; I set the machine for an hour run and gave it my all. Indeed, I was delighted to watch the distance climb higher and higher, and when it reached that magical six with plenty of time to spare, I was elated. A 10k run is roughly six miles and I firmly believed that I was not only ready for the race, but that I was in better shape than ever before.

Oh how wrong I was.

It wasn't until a week or so after the Chilly 10k that I learned the sad truth about gym treadmills. It turns out that they are all set to record distance in kilometres, not miles. So when I believed that I'd smashed the six mile target in less than one hour, in reality, I was still around 3k short. This definitely became a huge factor on the day.

It also didn't help that this was my third time taking part in the Chilly 10k. The excitement of running on a real race track was long over by this point. It was also my third time running with my brother and I fully understood that he was so much fitter than me. The awful weather only caused my mood to slip and get worse as the kilometres fell behind us. The more I struggled, the more I started to doubt myself and the harder it became to keep going. Of all the runs I've completed, this was the worst, by some considerable distance.

At the time of writing, it's been almost a full year since I endured that particular run and it still plays on my mind. I still think about it when I'm lacing up my trainers or looking out the window to check the weather. It haunts me like a specter. Any time I'm struggling to find the motivation or looking for a reason not to go out there and train, this run returns to my mind and fills me with poison. Remember how much it sucked? Remember how you hated every minute of it? Remember how you couldn't keep up with your brother for the last sprint and looked so out of it at the finish line?

It's far too easy to let that voice win. So while I do recall how awful that run was and how bad I felt at the time, I also remember the other points, the more important facts. It was cold but I wasn't shivering. I was slow but I didn't stop. I ached but I kept going. And, most important, I remember this:

I still finished it.

Yes, we all have bad runs. Yes, sometimes they can act like mental roadblocks. But the key thing is to always push through and focus on the good side. I had a bad run and I finished it. The others will always be so much better.

A Quick Pause to Reminisce

Hello! Still alive. Still running. I'm doing well. To be honest, I keep intending to write little blog posts and keep track of my attempts to get fit again, but usually forget by the time I sit at the computer. Let's fix that today.

After ten thousand years! A blog post!

Back in 2021, after moving to Chippenham and making a running buddy, I started to get better at running again (again), (again). Tracy and I got on well, we made good progress, and started pushing ourselves to go further each time. We never worried about our pace, only about meeting our goals. It was probably the best way to run with a partner. As the year drew to a close, Tracy said the immortal words, "We're going to make 2022 the year we run some events."

And we did. Let me use this space to reflect on the few "proper" events I've completed and the medals I've earned along the way.

1: The Castle Combe Chilly 10k

Tracy and I tackled our first organised 10k together in February 2022. It seemed like a great idea when we signed up some months before, but fortune was against us. This run happened to coincide with not one but two massive storms sweeping the south west part of the country. We faced huge gusts of wind and cold, drizzling rain throughout. But that's not the part that sucked the most. Look at this:

Castle Combe Circuit, a real, legitimate race track.

As cool as it was to run on actual racing tarmac - complete with tyres piled up at the corners and raised red and white ridges along the edges of the road - this track has zero cover. There are no trees, no shade, nothing to block even the gentlest of breezes. That makes sense for high-powered vroom-vroom cars whizzing around at high speeds, but for us bipeds, it didn't help.

I'll be honest, spending most of this circuit running into the wind and rain was a miserable experience. The total length is three laps of the course and by the time we began lap two, Tracy had started pulling ahead. I think she was fed up of the weather and I couldn't blame her one bit. By halfway through lap two, I couldn't even see her.

My mind was on other things, namely trying to finish at a good time. Like most running events, there were pacemarkers scattered throughout the pack wearing flags indicating their estimated finishing times in five minute intervals. Ahead of me were the faster times - 35 minutes (!), 40 minutes, 55 minutes, etc. The 60 minute pacer got ahead of me and started to pull away. My heart sank as the 65 minute pacer soon followed.

I had one goal in mind for this run: I wanted to finish in under 70 minutes. When I was a regular runner, training for London, I could do 10k in just under an hour. Those days were long behind me by this point, but finishing in 70 minutes was a matter of pride.

Thankfully, I did it. Despite the wind, the rain, the cold, and the general laugh-in-the-face-of-it-all attitude of the day, I managed to finish this challenge in one hour nine minutes. I was delighted with myself. 

Wet and soggy, but triumphant.

2: The Bristol 10k 

Undeterred by that first experience, Tracy and I dived headlong into the next 10k, the official Bristol run. This was something I had originally intended to do back in 2020 with some guys from work, but then covid happened and the event was cancelled (or so my memory tells me, I could be wrong).

Unlike the Castle Combe event, this one took place on a dry, bright, clear Sunday in May 2022. Thousands of people gathered in the harbourside, being released in large groups to begin the winding trail around Bristol. The half marathon was held on the same day and that course merged with this one toward the end. The route was tremendous, with people lining the course for almost the entire stretch. Local brass bands blared out bass-laden beats as we passed and most of the course was relatively flat - aside from a sharp incline next to Castle Park on the way back toward the centre.

The Bristol 10k course map.

As the course went on, Tracy and I started moving up, winding through the pack, making excellent pace. As some runners started to flag and fall back near the end, we were still pushing ahead and going strong. We even managed to finish with a good sprint to the line. To top off this excellent day, I managed to finish in one hour and three minutes; a much better pace than my first attempt some months before.

3: Langley Lightning Bolt 10k 22

Fast forward to October 2022. Tracy and I maintained a decent schedule and managed a few longer jaunts as well, even breaking into double figures on a couple of occasions. When the opportunity arose to compete in a 10k that takes place just down the road from home - literally using the same roads we run every single week - I couldn't turn down the chance to sign up.

While Tracy wasn't able to make this event, I did at least have one familiar face running with me: Mark, one of my wife's work colleagues. Thankfully, his pace was close to my own, so we remained within talking distance for the first third of the race.

The course map around local country roads.

After a while, everyone found their groove. Mark and the 60-minute pacer began to gradually pull ahead of me. I ran next to the sixty-two minute pacer for a short while, having a casual chat about the various local events weve both run. It seems that the people who choose to run as pacers tend to do it with surprising regularity, heading to different races and wearing a big flag for their own amusement. Eventually the pacer began to pull ahead, leaving me alone for much of the second half of the loop.

This track was good. It was nice and flat, the roads were intimately familiar, and I enjoyed myself. Because this is one of the flattest 10k courses in the country, runners tend to come from all over to try and set me personal best records. Nikki told me later that the first finisher crossed the line at around thirty three minutes, an unbelievable time. For me, I managed to catch up with Mark toward the end and finished at around one hour three minutes again. I counted it as a new personal best and rang the special bell by the finish line.

4: The Castle Combe Chilly 10k

Yes, back to Castle Combe. This race is held twice a year, in February and November, just when the weather is at its worst. Tracy, remembering how rubbish conditions were back in February, decided not to come along this time, so I ran with my brother, Scott, who had been taking up the hobby for a few months. It was our first time running together in a race like this.

The event could not have been more different to the one in February. Blue skies, sun, warm air - I ran in a t-shirt and shorts. Scott, however, didn't take off his hoodie before we started and pinned his tracker to the front, forcing him to get way too hot before we'd even completed a single lap. If my first visit to Castle Combe was a miserble experience, this one was a genuine delight. The morning could not have been more pleasant and enjoyable. 

 

As the finish line loomed, Scott and I started sprinting, yelling David Goggins quotes at each other ("Stay hard!", "Finish strong!"). We crossed the finish line side by side at one hour two minutes, both thrilled at our pace.

5: Chippenham Half Marathon 2023

There was a fairly long break between this and my last "official" race. During this time, I continued running with Tracy both outside and in the gym, and we started work on increasing our distance again. Every September, my local town hosts a half marathon. I'd ummed and ahhed about taking part in it before, but this time Scott was eager to give it a go. We signed up and began working toward achieving the fabled thirteen mile distance.

The Chippenham Half Marathon course.

This a lovely route. It begins at the local sports ground and sees everyone run through the centre of Chippenham, before we head down the local country lanes and around those familiar flat roads once again (they get used a lot, it seems). At least ten of the thirteen miles take place along lovely flat, leafy roads alongside open fields. I knew the route well and enjoyed this trek.

Scott and I kept up a good pace and remained side by side for the entire length, making the turns and waving at people who stopped to cheer us along. We were still going strong when we ran past my home estate and waved at Tracy (who was ill with covid and cheering from her bedroom window). The route brought us back to the sports ground for a lovely fast finish on the grassy field, where our wives were waiting and cheering.

Exhausted and triumphant at the end.

We set ourselves a goal of finishing within two and half hours. Our official time was two hours twenty-nine minutes. Victory!

6: The Castle Combe Chilly 10k

One more time! November 2023 wasn't anywhere near as nice and pleasant as the previous year. A bitter wind blew across the track and seemed to put up an invisible barrier of resistance. Some people didn't seem bothered by this, but it caused me no end of difficulty.

Scott and I tackled this one again, but it was a tough challenge. We took our training more slowly after completing the marathon and I only managed a few practice runs on the treadmill in the gym prior to the event. In fact, the weather was pretty naff for most of 2023, adding another level of challenge to this run.

I later learned a surprising fact about the gym treadmills: they are calibrated to measure distance in kilometres, not miles. I thought I was managing an effortless six-mile run in less than an hour, but in reality, this was barely half the distance required for a full 10k.

This run was memorable for all the wrong reasons. It was a struggle. It was difficult. The bitter wind and the empty landscape worked against me, sucking the life out of the run. I felt gassed by the halfway point and could not get my head in the game. Usually I manage to enjoy the act of running even if the weather is poor, but this was different. There was nothing fun about this one.

At the end, Scott began the final sprint to the line, but I couldn't keep up. He finished a short distance ahead of me, yelling David Goggins quotes at nobody. My final time was still a decent one hour three minutes, but I was disappointed with myself. That's not how I like to feel at the end of a run.

Since then, I've continued to run and have some further adventures, but these are the official races I've tackled and the various medals I've won. They're all in a special box in my loft now, waiting for more victories and triumphs in the near future. I'll tell you all about that at another time...

Running Buddies

I have been fortunate enough to run with buddies before in various training sessions. In the early days of 2020 BC (Before Covid), I was intending to run the Bath Half with Nikki and Jodie. We enjoyed a comfortable mixture of sessions, running loops outside on the hilly roads of our old streets and meeting up at the gym after work for some treadmill action when the weather turned sour. It was nice to have company and certainly changed the dynamic of my runs.

Running? With people?

However, while we ran together, we still had our headphones firmly in place to allow us to concentrate and not listen to any pained wheezing or grunting. Running with others was a nice experience but it didn't really change how I felt about the activity or enhance my perspective. It was simply nice to have others along for the ride and share the suffering. Plus, watching Nikki and Jodie achieve new personal best distances was a fantastic experience.

For most of the time I've been an active runner (or a reasonably active runner), I have been doing it solo. Nothing but me, my headphones, and a goal in mind. I didn't mind it. Good tunes and zero distractions let me get lost in my own thoughts. I could set goals and focus on what I needed to do to reach those targets. I listened to plenty of Iron Maiden, and even a few audiobooks. For all I knew, this was how running should be.

But in the summer of 2021, I made a change - and a new friend. It began simply enough when I posted on the local community social page, asking about the nearby Parkrun and if anyone on the estate wanted to tackle it together. There were one or two interested responses and we got to talking.

That was how I met my friend and running buddy Tracy. We decided to try and tackle some local roads together and see how we got along. It was weird at first. Neither of us had much experience in running with other people, but we stuck with it and made awkward small talk. Initially, I struggled like hell to keep up. Tracy is in good shape - she runs, attends local workout classes, and eats healthy foods. I, meanwhile, have just scoffed three Christmas chocolates while writing that sentence.

This is quite accurate.

But we slowly fell into a good groove together. The first few sessions, we took our headphones and ran together, but separately. After that, we started chatting while running and within a few weeks, we became those annoying runners that hog the path and loudly talk without a care for anyone else. It's actually really nice to have a buddy out there with me. We motivate each other, push ourselves to do better, and refuse to quit.

This, I've learned, is the best part of having a running buddy. Now that someone is relying on me for regular jaunts, there's an added incentive not to give up or make excuses to stay home. Even when we run at the crack of dawn, or plan increasingly long Saturday morning sessions that seem to encompass the entirety of Chippenham, I'm more excited to do it because someone is willing to go through it with me.

As 2022 draws to a close, I'm looking back on the things Tracy and I achieved this year. We managed to get out before work several times a week during the summer. We ran the Bristol 10k together. I ran several 10k circuits throughout the year and managed to bring my time down a little more with each medal gained. It felt incredible.

Now I'm looking at 2023 and wondering what interesting new challenges lie in wait. Will we sign up for a half marathon? Maybe even a full 26 mile run? Who knows. All I know for certain is that running is fun by yourself, but it's even more enjoyable with a buddy.

Previously on AdamVMarathon...

I'm not dead. Truth be told, I sort of forgot about this blog while everything went crazy for a little while. 2020 ended up as sort of a weird, blurry streak where we hibernated like animals and waited for the storm to pass.

"Is it over yet?"

Let me try and sum up the last couple of years before I attempt to continue recording my experiences as an amateur runner. I spent the summer of 2020 hiding indoors with no idea what was going on outside. There was a brief window in the autumn where I took part in a work competition to accumulate group distance together. It was a lot of fun and helped me get back in the saddle. After few painful sessions, I found my legs again and even began to enjoy running again.

There were some difficult times initially. I struggled to run half a mile and had to remember that it was more than a year since I was even close to being some kind of decent runner. I'd curse myself, beat myself up, regret putting my body through all this again. But in the end, it was worth it. Within a few weeks, I was back to running a nice 10K loop without stopping. It felt great, it felt like I'd found my old self again.

Then we moved. In January 2021, my wife and I found a gorgeous house in Chippenham about 30 minutes away from the flat. Everything fell by the wayside as we scrambled to find the money, pack up our entire lives, and get rid of all the things we didn't need to take. We had a lot of help from our families, but we did it. We moved into our first house together in the middle of May and by the time we stopped, half the year had already slipped away.

You blink in January and suddenly it's July.

I started again-again. Found a nice loop around the local area and started running. I went through all the motions again; struggling to run half a mile; cursing my lack of fitnes; slowly upping the ante; and finally, settling into a decent groove and finding my pace again.

As I began the long process of getting back to some basic level of fitness, I started to enjoy myself. I even did something I've never done before: made a new friend through running. Before long, Tracy and I became running buddies, and started to inspire and encourage each other to stick to a regular routine, work out at local classes, and pick up the pace.

Now, as 2022 winds down, we're managing a good four mile run twice a week, plus a longer challenge at the weekends. I'll probably go into more detail about this in a later post.

The real reason I was inspired to reopen this dusty old blog is because of a friend of mine. My university chum Colin - the very same Colin who once waved to me as I started the marathon some three years ago - ran through London yesterday on his own challenge. He completed the marathon in five hours, thirty nine minutes, and one second. I watched the broadcast on TV and followed his progress in the app. The whole time, I smiled to myself. I knew exactly where he was on the route and what he would be seeing. I described the course to my wife as TV cameras captured forty thousand runners rushing through the city. It was like being there all over again. All those old feelings came rushing back.

Maybe it's time I stopped with these little runs and started pushing myself even more. I know I can run 10K. I can do nine miles fairly comfortably (albiet with a lot of swearing and grunting). Perhaps it's time to aim for some new challenges...?

Emerging from the bunker

Haven't posted or written anything on here in a while because there wasn't much to say. We all lived through it. Coronavirus tore the civilised world a new one and it affected everyone in some way or another. Some suffered, some lost loved ones, some lost their jobs. I'm lucky that the worst thing to happen to me is being confined to my home for months on end.

Is it safe to come out again?

Now it seems that the world is starting to rebuild. Restrictions are lifting, stores are opening, and civilians are strutting around with that same, smug air of untouchable confidence they had back in February. By the autumn, people will have forgotten everything we went through as a people.

I survived lockdown by becoming a hermit. No going to lie, it's been really nice spending time in the flat with my wife and not worrying about doing much of anything. It's been tough sometimes - getting in each other's way, not having any space, etc - but we've enjoyed the hell out of working from home.

The downside, however, is that neither of us has done much physical exercise since we entered this hibernation period so many months ago. I've managed small runs here and there, but getting back into routine - and shape! - is going to require the exact same focus, commitment, effort, and perseverance as when I first laced up my trainers in May 2018. In two years, I've gone from a fat guy to a marathon runner and back to a fat guy again. I'm almost the same weight I was at the very beginning of all this.

But this time I have a huge advantage. I already know how to run. I know that I can do it. All I need to do is get it done. I've started making myself go for runs before work - even mapped out a new route to keep things fresh and interesting for myself. I've got new music pumping away in my ears as I run. Every day, I make myself run that little bit further before breaking into a walk. I still love the thrill of rushing alogn the streets, feeling my heart race and thud in my chest. All I need is to rediscover my motivation - again.

Fear and Loathing in the West Country

Okay, let's talk coronavirus. Firstly, yes, the 2020 Bath Half is still going ahead on Sunday (two days away, at the time of writing). Secondly, no, I will not be taking part. I have made the difficult decision to pull out of the half marathon due to the ongoing health crisis that is currently enveloping the planet. The UK currently has around six hundred confirmed cases and a dozen deaths related to coronavirus.Three cases have been confirmed in the west country.

As always, the current atmosphere has brought out the best in our meme community.

My decision has nothing to do with me panicking or buying in to the hype that this virus is somehow going to cause the end of the world. Far from it. My biggest worry is that my family will be watching from the sidelines for the duration of the event. I don't want to risk their health - or mine! - by dragging us all to a massive public event when the best health experts in the world are currently advising the exact opposite. I thought long and hard about the pros and cons. Is it the decision I wanted to make? No, it's not. Is it the best choice given all the available data? Sadly, yes.

I'm disappointed. Despite everything - my lack of preparation, my weight, my struggle to get back on the wagon - I have been really looking forward to this. Nikki and Jodie were unable to run with me, but I was excited about the opportunity to get back out there and prove to myself that I can still do this. That moment has come and gone now. I'll wait to the next one and push myself a hell of a lot harder than I did this time around.

At the time of writing, many large scale public events around the world are being closed. Disneyland. Schools. Universal studios. Sporting events. The London Marathon - at the moment - still going ahead. In some countries, life has come to a total standstill. In others, such as this one, things are continuing, albiet with a tense atmosphere of expectation and approaching doom.

I'm not terribly concerned about whether or not I will catch this virus. From all the data we currently have, it seems that I'm in a good age range to survive catching a virus generally unscathed. If a lockdown occurs, we'll get through it well enough. Those most at risk are elderly people and those with underlying health issues. I am not panicking or buying up all the toilet roll in sight or raiding the shelves for any remaining hand sanitiser.

There is a lot of fear and misinformation out there. Some people believe this is the end of civilisation while others are laughing and claiming this to be the biggest nothingburger of all time. The media has done an even worse job than usual in stoking these fires. Watch the news for an hour and you'll see footage of people tearing toilet rolls off the shelves, followed by a wise-faced expert calmly talking about why nobody needs to panic, before cutting to a reporter at a shop who describes the atmosphere as 'fraught' or 'panicked'. News media exists purely to get and sustain your attention, not to keep you informed. To that end, every single person reporting on this ongoing situation has done a stellar job muddying the waters.

In fact, I want to use this space to share a fascinating video on the subject, a lengthy discussion between Joe Rogan and germologist Michael Osterholm. Joe asks all the right questions and Michael uses his wealth of knowledge and decades of experience to eloquently answer everything to the best of his considerable abilities. If you are in any way worried about this virus, I highly recommend watching the full ninety minute discussion:

 

I'll post a breakdown of the talk as well, for anyone that only wants certain information:

0:40 How bad is Coronavirus
4:00 Is the virus an "old persons" disease
5:18 Incubation period
7:50 What can be done to prevent infection
13:45 Drug shortages
15:20 Sauna use effect on infections
18:00 Was Coronavirus man-made
22:00 American Wild Deer diseases and Prions
32:00 Is Corona seasonal
35:00 Corona could be 10 times worse than the flu
35:25 Corona will stay around for months
36:10 Coronavirus vs Spanish flu
38:30 How can we prepare our immune system
43:20 Do hand sanitizers and masks work
50:00 We stockpile weapons more than medical goods
54:30 Will people panic if they are told the truth
56:00 Vaccines
1:02:00 Why a virus would originate from China
1:11:30 What to do if you get the flu
1:15:45 Lime disease and ticks
1:23:00 Effects of fire suppression on ecosystem
1:30:00 Vaccine for Coronavirus

So that's all for now. Like the rest of the country, I'm adopting a firm 'wait and see' approach to the unfolding crisis. If I get sick, I get sick. All I can do is prevent and delay that to the best of my abilities and try not to pass it on to anyone else. Gutted that I am not participating this Sunday, but still happy to wish everyone well and good luck at the races.