16. Negative splits

Posted on 3 March, 2003 by | Leave a comment

Well, I’m going to say something very heretical here, but maybe negative splits (and level pacing) aren’t for everyone. Perhaps I don’t yet run enough miles, enough 3/1 runs, or I’m still too heavy, but I wonder if slowing down in the later miles of a marathon is really that surprising.

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15. Sorrowful hills – the Space Shuttle Disaster and war clouds in Iraq

Posted on 3 February, 2003 by | Leave a comment

Dear Jonas
space-shuttle-disaster-and-iraq-war-clouds.jpgIt was amazing to read Ed’s account of thunder over the Texas plain on a blue Saturday morning.

Aspirations, beauty and death – these are thought-provoking counterpoints at a critical time in destiny.

It is truly my privilege to see such drama unfold through different eyes half a world away. To witness, and perhaps not to pass a view.

It’s just that as I run through a serene English winter’s afternoon, I wonder how will our two countries grieve the first seven victims of the forthcoming conflict ? And the next seven thousand, or seven hundred thousand ?
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Posted in 2003, A1 - the best of roads of stone, divided by an ocean, Iraq

14. A London favourite – running on the South Bank

Posted on 2 February, 2003 by | 3 comments

Dear Shelagh
sunset-london-eye-and-big-ben.jpgMy personal favourite London run is along the South Bank, westwards towards the sunset from Tower Bridge.

It’s three miles past Tate Modern, St Paul’s and the Wobbly Bridge to the National Theatre and the Millennium Wheel. Three more will see you pass the Houses of Parliament to finish at Vauxhall Bridge. Some of Monet’s best skylines to admire along the way.

Another memorable trip is to take a boat from Charing Cross past Canary Wharf to Greenwich, and on foot to the Maritime Museum and the Royal Observatory. It’ll be three months after the London Marathon, but you’ll see where it all starts. And you can set your watch, too.

Have a great trip !

Related articles:
142. South Bank spring – Tate Modern, London
85. A homage to London’s Gherkin
141. A winter sky and green and blue – Hyde Park, London
36. The Embankment, inspiration and reality
51. London Calling
94. London Olympics 2012

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Posted in 2003, London

13. A winter night’s fartlek – Guildford town and track

Posted on 20 January, 2003 by | Leave a comment

Best run of the week was my evening 6 miler on Sunday. I couldn’t face my usual dark lanes, so instead used the opportunity to explore some of the well-lit town streets. I haven’t done this for a while but the enforced navigation stops and traffic light breaks make for an enjoyable sort of fartlek.

Eventually made it down to Guildford Spectrum running track, where Roger Black used to train. He is the British athlete who always finished second to Michael Johnson in the Olympic 400 m.

There were puddles on the track and no floodlights but the springy surface makes for smooth pace running. Four 2:10 laps made an 8:40 mile. Quick breather then a hard single lap in tribute to Roger before heading homewards up the hill for a Sunday dinner of tortillas, refried beans and guacamole.

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Related articles:
40. Running with Roger Black
111. The plan
141. A winter sky and green and blue – Hyde Park, London
83. Seven Bridges Road – the Wey floodplain
34. Lines from the Battle of Guildford
55. A redemption in Manchester

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Posted in 2003, Guildford, winter

12. 10 km torment in Stubbington Green

Posted on 13 January, 2003 by | Leave a comment

stubbington-green-10km.jpgFirst race of the year was the Stubbington Green 10 km, on the south coast near Portsmouth. About 1 200 runners on a flat route on the seafront and around the local naval bases.

The recent snow was nearly all gone, and the race was run in brilliant sunshine and -6C (21F).
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Posted in 2003, racing

11. London Snow by Robert Bridges

Posted on 8 January, 2003 by | 1 comment

In pictures: Snow in the capital
There was a rare sight in London on Wednesday as the city disappeared under a blanket of snow (pictures ©BBC).london-snow.jpg

LONDON SNOW
by Robert Seymour Bridges

When men were all asleep the snow came flying,
In large white flakes falling on the city brown,
Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying,
Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town; Continue reading →

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Posted in 2003, London, poetry, winter