grumpyf1

Right now, 15 people are having a little run round a pond. Well, maybe not a pond – Windermere. And not so little – a marathon distance. 10 times in 10 days. I’m pretty impressed with my motivational levels if I manage to resist eating a whole packet of chocolate HobNobs in one sitting. In the very distant past, I ran a half marathon (although ‘run’ probably isn’t the correct terminology if you walk some of it). I was so shattered, I was barely able to drink three pints in the pub afterwards, and had to turn down the offer of celebratory pork scratchings too. I’m not convinced I could even walk 26.2 miles, let alone run that distance. And yet, by the time you read this, 15 people of varying ages and abilities will have completed their 8th marathon in as many days, with the prospect of 2 more still to go. Their final ‘lap’ around England’s largest lake will be celebratory in a great variety of ways, and they will have the support of a huge number of people, as their last c...

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away (well, Oxfordshire, actually) I ran a half marathon. I say “run”. I walked a bit. Oh, OK a lot. Nearly all of it, yes. It was hideous. Within the last 2 miles you had to pass a pub, where all the people who were actually quite good at running, and had therefore already finished, had assembled to drink to their extreme nippiness, and cheer on the slow-coaches. Smashing. Advancing years, and a pathological fear of exercise, mean my running days are limited to a dash for a train. Even then I need oxygen and a muscle rub. The ticket inspectors say that isn’t their job, but they need to consider their customer’s needs, before calling the police. I am therefore flabbergasted that anyone can run a whole marathon, especially since they got renamed to “Snickers”. (Actually, now I come to think of it, that may have something to do with those athletes that had already completed the half-marathon back in the mists of time, watching me wheeze my...