Category: The Athons

Janathon day twenty-eight: pyjamas

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The day after Blackpool usually involves a precautionary day off for recovery purposes. Unfortunately, due to a slight breakdown in communications only one of us remembered having the conversation about taking the day off and so I had the day to myself…

After talking to one of my colleagues about her lazy day off last week, I decided to declare today to be a pyjama day. I never spend the day in my pyjamas, so this had a vast amount of novelty value. Annoyingly I had to go to Tesco, town and do some kind of Janathoning before indulging. For the sake of my fellow shoppers (and it was cold out) I conceded that a proper waistband was in order, resulting in a bit of shimmying out of my jeans in the pub car park (I was wearing them over my tights, I’m not that shameless just yet) when I landed at the canal.

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To give my legs a bit of a rest, I decided to run in the flat, lock-free direction which was fine until around the mile mark where the towpath was still encased in hard, uneven, slippery snow and ice. I persevered for a bit until I realised that there was no point in torturing myself when I could just turn around and run the splashy, muddy way that I had just come from. So I turned round and extended my loop to take it up to three miles.

Typically, it was only when I was walking back to my start point that I lost my footing and nearly pitched head-first into the icy depths…

The afternoon was spent pyjama-clad, drinking tea and indulging in several episodes of David Tennant-era Dr Who. I want to spend the rest of the week doing this.

Janathon day twenty-seven: four

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Well last night unfolded like clockwork and there was certainly no need for any bum baring – with comforting predictability raffle tickets were bought, stand up bingo was stood up for and the speaker spoke. Unfortunately the speaker didn’t exactly give a magnetic (or entertaining) (or coherent) performance and I compensated by drinking free wine. Ooops. And then during the raffle our table won seven of the eleven prizes (causing some raised eyebrows as it’s one of our party who organises the raffle…), six of which had screw caps. Ooops.

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Despite (because of?) this, I managed to stay up until stupid o’clock setting the world to rights and actually was the last man standing at four o’clock. Somehow (and I have no idea how this is possible) I managed to be somewhat bright-eyed and bushy tailed at eight and put away a slightly dubious full English (I suspect that the tomato had a higher meat content than the sausage) before going to look at the crashing waves from a safe distance.

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It was weird getting home because we had managed to miss the snowmageddon that hit our way on Friday night (there were even northbound v southbound snowball fights on the M6). By the time we returned, there were just a few mounds of grubby snow at the side of the road to give any clue of what had happened. Oh, and this sad sight in the back garden – my snow penguin was no more…

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Anyway, this post is brought to you by the number four because I went to bed at four o’clock, I had four hours sleep and when I checked the ToD on Running Free, I realised that I only needed four miles to reach my Janathon century. So that’s what I did. Alarmingly quickly in places. Which is weird. I still haven’t had a snooze (which is weirder) and am starting to worry that I’m actually asleep now and have dreamt the run…

Janathon day twenty-six: piers

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My Janathon has relocated to the coast. Leaving behind the M6 snow chaos, we’re in Blackpool for our annual rugby dinner.

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Tonight will be posh frock, shiny shoes and waiting for that moment where I utter the inevitable words “oh alright, just a little one…” and everything goes a bit wobbly. I’ll not bore you with the details of the night, if you want to know more, look back at the last weekends of the previous two janathons. The format of the night has been the same for over a decade and if it changes drastically tonight then I’ll bare my bum in the tower ballroom.

Despite indulging in both 90 minute happy hours and spending all my money on raffle tickets trying to win a giant stuffed Pingu, I was startlingly perky at 8 this morning. Ginge, bless him, didn’t smother me with a pillow when I announced we were off out and we braved the strange stares of other weekenders to hit the slushy, slippy pavements.

First up was North Pier.

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Past the Tower and the big seedy leafy sculptures that wobble in the breeze.

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And then down beneath Central Pier
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And onward to South Pier…

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…and the Big One.

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Before having a listen to the Blackpool High Tide Organ.

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And then slip sliding all the way back, too late for breakfast but with the smugness of an early 6 miles.

Janathon day twenty-five: lovely

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Loosely speaking there is a system to my running plans. In winter, morning runs are usually three miles (because I can’t get up any earlier to squeeze in more), evenings vary by inclination, company and weather, weekends I try to get a longer, daylight run in. This has not changed during Janathon. My plan on January the first was to gradually increase my longer run (it had been ages since I’d done more than even five miles) up to six, seven, eight and finally nine miles by the end of the month. The weather has scuppered me slightly, but this weekend eight miles was on the cards.

Last night I got the maps out to do some plotting – I’m off work today so I could try a new route and we’re away tomorrow so I wanted to fathom out a route in unfamiliar territory. What I came up with was a mash-up of two routes that I absolutely hate. A six-miler that avoids most of the scenic and rural areas of the locality, and a ten-miler that always sees me grizzling and that I have only vaguely enjoyed once.

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It’s somewhat chilly today (demonstrated by the fact that my gloves stayed on for the entire distance instead of being shoved in my back pocket after a mile) and the wind was bitter. As I set off, an occasional flake of snow would flutter and dance in front of me warning of weather yet to come.

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All my photos are incredibly bleak mid-wintery.

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To be honest, most of the run was bleak mid-wintery.

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And then I saw a flash of red in the hedgerow.

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And had one of those moments where I felt glad to be outside and seeing things that I wouldn’t see from the warmth of my car.

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And then the forecasted light snow started around mile six and I was glad to get home for a brew.

Janathon day twenty-four: treacle

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I think I got a bit cocky last night – My daily Janathon efforts have made bits of me a little perter and perkier, and the sight of the scales doesn’t displease me. High on the endorphins of a fast flowing yoga class, I was feeling fit and strong and confident.

And then I got up this morning.

This morning’s three miles were hard work, my legs were weary and every step was like running through treacle.

My legs have now stopped talking to me altogether, although I hear rumours that they’re making placards and are going to mount some kind of protest. Through our mediation service, I would like to inform them that they have a whole 24 hours off and then I’m taking them away to treat them to a bit of a swim and a sauna over the weekend.

When all else fails, just think of the reward of Janathon pizza

When all else fails, just think of the reward of Janathon pizza