Running for Dave

There was a time when I would joke that following Slough Town Football Club was bad for your health. Regrettably events of the past few years means that those words have become scarily accurate. Today for the third time in a short period, The Rebels have had to lay to rest one of their loyal supporters, gone long before they should have done. David Pearcy, affectionately known throughout our community as Dave Programmes (owing to his matchday duties that he carried out in his own unique way) recently lost his battle with cancer at the age of 42. His passing made front page news in the local rags and there have been touching memories of him filling up social media timelines under the hashtag #DaveProgrammes He will be greatly missed by all of us who were fortunate to know him.

I couldn't make it to the funeral today. My youngest had an Ortho appointment at our local hospital during which he received a new pair of supportive boots and had his legs and feet cast to mould made to measure splints to help him as he learns to stand. Little man was dressed in his Slough Town colours this afternoon to show we were thinking of him. While I would have liked to have paid my respects to David in person, life has to go on.

This tweet from @brightonrebel rather sums up how I've felt about things today

Funerals are a kick up the arse. Love your family more, enjoy your friends, stop worrying about things that dont matter & make a difference
— Warren Carter (@brightonrebel) September 18, 2014

These are words that ring true. Earlier in the year I had a minor health scare, discovering a troubling amount of blood in my stool. One nervous weekend later when my mind was racing with thoughts ranging from death in service pension provision to my boys growing up without their dad, I went to see my GP to get checked out. We blokes aren't always the best at responding to health concerns, but I've had people close to me who have caught cancer early by getting themselves to a doctor. One uncomfortable examination later and I was reasonably assured that all was okay, though I've been keeping a close eye when I go to the loo just in case. Better to be safe than sorry, and I'd advise all gents to do the same, no matter how awkward they may feel.

Before taking the little man to hospital, I had a rare couple of hours to myself and used them to fit in a long run. I'm participating in the Royal Park Half Marathon on 12 October, and I laboured through 12km this morning. It is clear that I'm not in as good shape as I was back in March but I'm looking forward to the challenge, and as Warren succinctly wrote above, I'm not going to worry about the time as in the grand scheme of things it really doesn't matter.

Where my run can make a difference though is through supporting David's family in their fundraising efforts for The Bobby Moore Fund for Cancer Research UK. I hadn't planned for my run to be part of any charitable efforts but as a number of people have recently asked me if I was running for a cause, I will be encouraging them to donate to the Just Giving page sent up by the Pearcy family. They have already collected well over £2000, a measure of just how much Dave was loved by those who knew him.

Love your family more. Enjoy your friends. Be thankful for the Dave Pearcy's of this world who make it a much better place.

A New Beginning?

It has been a while but I'm back. I'd like to tell you that since my last blog entry I've been eating well, exercising lots and maintaining a high level of health and personal wellbeing. Inevitably I've not been doing any of the above and so I'm back here today in worse shape than when you last heard from me. 

If I had been in denial about weight gain to this point, there can be no hiding place today. This evening I had my first trouser splitting experience for the best part of two years. Now while it is better to find yourself outgrowing a 36" pair rather than a 42" pair as happened in December 2012 shortly before I started writing Year Of The Diet, it is rather disappointing that I'm doing it at all. I had hoped these days were behind me, but in the six months since I finished the Dorney Lake Half Marathon, standards have slipped.

It hasn't been a rapid decline. I've not expanded at the rate of knots and this evening I weigh in less than I did as a 28 year old on my wedding day. But I have crept up above 15st, while my fitness levels have nosedived. I'm less than 4 weeks away from my second half marathon, and on current form Ray Rice has more chance of winning NFL Man of the Year than I have of recording a sub 2hr time. Time isn't everything, but having managed to get round the course in just over 2 hours on one knee back in March, I had hoped to improve. A bit extra lumbar and significantly less training has rather put paid to that.

Physically I'm not at my peak, but the biggest barrier right now is a mental one. My motivation levels simply aren't where they used to be, and despite attempts to get back into the weightloss/exercise groove, I've not been able to make anything stick. A few good days here have been followed by a few bad days there, while my efforts at resurrecting a running career has spluttered in intermittent patches. 

I would be lying if I were to write with any certainty that this blog represents a turning point, but I very much hope that it does. I'm definitely not daft enough to think that I can reverse 6 months of inactivity in a 4 week period, but what I can do is take small measures of control which will help to arrest the decline and put me in a better place to tackle the Royal Parks Half.

Firstly, I've vowed not to have any alcohol until after the race. I decided this at the start of last week and have gone a week without a beer. It doesn't sound much but 5 weeks without booze will provide a useful detox, which will hopefully allow for me to upscale my physical training. Secondly, I'm taking bread of my menu. If this all sounds a bit deja vu it is probably because I've done this before, and it works. Salads for lunches. Cereals for breakfasts. Toast is the devil and sandwiches their evil cousin. A few weeks without won't hurt me, and may go some way to alleviating further trousers embarrassment.

There is a mere 26 days until I'm supposed to run 13.1 miles. Time for me to end a cycle of negativity and prove to myself what can be achieved with a little self belief.