The
Diary of a Demented Man.
Part 1.
Bangor, Saturday, February
18th, 2006, 08:50
“You’ve got mail”….. or I would have,
except I was reclining over a leisurely breakfast in the hacienda, putting
the finishing touches to my presidential acceptance speech, many miles
from campaign headquarters. “Another buttered croissant, darling?”
“Oh yes please, honey-bunkins!” But, unknown to me,
at that very moment FRU’s editor in chief, (Mad Bad John I shall
call him), pinged a wee note over the ether.
Are you interested in doing a FRU/SCOOP entry for the Belfast Marathon?
(Think of the fame and fortune it will bring.) We need a team of five
and you run just over five miles each. I've done it a couple of times
and its good crack. If you're up for it I think we could make a big thing
out of it on message boards and raise quite a bit for charity. We could
even have different "training diary" type things on the FRU
and SCOOP. Plus it would give us an excuse to get our own T-shirts printed.
Well, you know me, fame and running kinda go together – Second Barrier
Crew on the front page of the Newsletter – Mad Bad John certainly
knows how to bait the trap. (Big mistake…big, big mistake –
I should have listened to the voices in my head!)
Bangor, Tuesday, February 21st, 2006, 19:30
It’s a raw night, the streets are empty, the great unwashed are
in front of fifty thousand TV screens, escaping into make believe land,
while I try to drag my aching limbs down their tree lined avenues. I hate
him, I hate the FRU, I hate this lack of breath, I want to die.
“Come on Dad, just concentrate on the next corner – keep
your head up, we’re over half way now.” It was my personal
trainer, wee kimble. (He runs nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets
and is not out of breath at the end – I could learn to hate him
as well….)
Ten minutes later….yep, I want to die, indeed I think I’m
well on the way. One more cough and I’ll be crossing over the River
Jordan to the celestial city of lights, where Ulster win home and away
every time.
Bangor, Thursday, February 23rd, 2006, 20:00
Is it déjà vu, or have I been here before? You know, cyanide
would be quicker. Swing low sweet chariot, coming for to carry me home…..
Edinburgh, Saturday, February 25th, 2006, 09:30
Will I, won’t I? Well, it’s only a wee hill up to Slateford
and then a nice long leisurely glide down past Tynecastle and back to
the front door. You know, this running thing; I could almost get used
to it. Younger daughter says that every mile I run will add a day to my
life. If I keep this up I’ll be twice as old as Grumpy by this time
next season. I wonder will he miss me when I’m gone?
Bangor, Tuesday, February 28th 19:00
Personal trainer has absconded with the stop watch so I’m on my
ownio tonight. How I hate that hill half way round – I think I’ll
run a reverse circuit. It will be like going back in time. Perhaps it
will reverse the aging process? Oh, the loneliness of the long distance
runner. I hate Mad Bad John, I hate the pavement, I hate the hill –
its worse this way round, I hate it, but most of all I hate MBJ. I wonder
what he looks like?
Bangor, Thursday, March 2nd 18:30
Yep, it is definitely déjà vu, I have been here before!
Pain, breathlessness, hatred, despair, more hatred. I am becoming an embittered
man. MBJ – I wonder what he looks like…..dead?
February Belfast, Friday, March 3rd, 2006, 09:30
So how is the training going? Well, I’ve been running for eleven
days now and I’ve covered seven miles. So, let me see, another twenty
seven days and I’ll have run a marathon. That could be a record!
I wonder should I take a tent and sleeping bag, or will people take me
in?
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