Running dreams

So, last night I had this dream about all sorts of disjointed plots. A weird holiday in a brutalist architected city, old friends, poltergeist activity, excess baggage, and a side plot about running hill reps on an old dirt road called Devil's Highway.

The thing is, unlike most things from that dream, Devil's Highway is actually a place that runs right up into Swinley Forest. And it's actually about a mile from my house.

Well that's all the encouragement I needed. Off I went.

I know Devil's quite well, not only because I run round that part of Swinley Forest quite a lot in the summer but also because it was where we'd all meet up to *ahem* smoke mindbenders back in the day. So I'm familiar with it's undulations and knew there would be 3 decent sized hills for me to run up. As I ran a nice easy pace up to the start of the the Highway I decided my plan of attack would be get to the first hill, lay a marker down (jabbing a stick into the ground for the non-technical amongst you), sprint as hard as I could to the top of the hill, turn around and do a very easy pace back to my marker. Do this 3 times I each hill and I'd have gone for 9 blasts up some fairly rude inclines. After that just a little plod round Caeser's Camp in Swinley Forest and back home.

Wow. Sweaty workout that. If you saw Sir Mo at the end of the London Marathon today that's basically what I looked like after the third time up the third hill. Well like that but fatter, whiter, and with more hair. I was sweating and had to stop to catch my breath is what I'm saying. Also did some pissing about with the runselfie before uploading it to Strava to keep it in with the theme of the run.

Speaking of London I guess I need to resign myself to the fact that I'm never going to run that marathon.

1. I'm not generally lucky enough to win a ballot place (I know this is superstitious bullshit and I have as much chance as everyone else but I never seem to win things like that so I'm claiming it as fact)
2. I'm not fast enough to get a Good For Age time and I can't imagine that I ever will be. Right now I'm about 1h45m away from the GFA for my age bracket, and now that they've changed the GFA from guaranteed entry to entry into a different ballot essentially then see point 1.
3. Charity places aren't really viable. The organisers charge charities so much for their entries that they then have to pass it on to the runners in the form of minimum fundraising contracts. Yes in theory I could get a charity place but having run a few marathons and an ultra already without asking for sponsorship people I know generally reckon a marathon is a stroll in the park for me (it so fucking isn't btw just look at my PBs and splits) and that perception would make fundraising really hard. I'd have to do it dressed as a fucking anvil or something to make people perceive it as a challenge worth sponsoring and that isn't why I run.

Seems like I'm quite bitter doesn't it? To be honest I'm not really, there are plenty of brilliant races around but I do get a bit envious of people who get to run "The Marathon". I'll keep doing the ballot and maybe one year it will come up for me, and if I really really really wanted to run it that badly I'd find a way to fundraise.

The folks I do feel really sorry for though are the GFA qualifiers. I can only imagine the years of dedication and the intensity of the winter training, not to mention the good fortune to stay free of injury when pushing so hard, to hit the current qualifying times and to go through that and not even know whether you have a guaranteed place - brutal. Even worse if you just sneaked in with a GFA in Brighton or Manchester this year thinking of London 2019 - well soz you are shit outta luck my friend as they changed the goalposts literally the day after those races.

So not only is the London Marathon a massive charity fleecing scam but it's quite happy to take the piss out of the very runners who feed it. Fuck you London, I still want to run you though!