It was an excellent run in less than excellent conditions.

The forecast today was for persistent heavy rain and I woke up this morning thinking that I should probably wait until the weather was better before making a move.

But sometimes you can’t afford to wait to make a move and you just have to get out there and do it otherwise it will be worse again tomorrow.

So I ran in the soaking rain for 10.3 miles and completed the run in 1 hour 38 minutes at an average pace of 9:29 min/mile.

It was a super run and in some ways a landmark. A cyclist and his friend shouted “keep it going big lad!” at mile 7 and instead of flipping him off and shouting “Thanks, cunt!” I waved and said “Thanks, man!”

I finished mile 8 in an 8:38.

Now for the reason I’ve been so hysterical recently.

If you follow me on Facebook or on the blog here a lot then you’ll have noticed I’ve been even more neurotic than usual.

It’s all been part of me quitting sleeping tablets gradually in Crete.

By sleeping tablets I mean Nytol/Benadryl/dipenhydramine.

How can anyone get hooked on fucking Nytol?

I started taking Nytol back in 2010 when I moved back to my parents after living in Belfast for a year.

At the time I was at my heaviest (280lbs) and I started ‘dieting’ to try to bring my weight down a little. I found the drug convenient as it would allow me to go to bed early and I wouldn’t crave sugary foods and could then wake up fresh and motivated.

In the first few months, one or two Nytol would knock me out and I could just wake up feeling refreshed.

Then the tolerance started kicking in.

Medicinal Nytol

Since 2010 and until the start of May, I’d been taking 3-4 diphenhydramine tablets a night to sleep.

Suffice to say, the drug stopped working long before this and I’d become mentally dependent on something that was ultimately useless.

Besides, I was beginning to have some nasty side effects from misusing it.

I stopped the Nytol for 2 weeks in December 2011 on my trip across Scandinavia and had panic attacks by night in Copenhagen thinking that if I fell asleep then I’d seize up.

Not fun. But the hot dogs on Strøget pulled me through!

Running in the diphenhydramine haze.

Trying to do speedwork at 5am in the early winter of 2013 training for the Belfast Marathon as a Nytol fiend was quite fucking difficult.

I’d feel paranoid that the birds in the trees weren’t making the right chirping noises and that they were really State-planted microphones.

Fortunately I’d ‘wake up’ after the 3rd mile and be completely sober by the time the run was over, but it was at this point I knew I was fucking with something that wasn’t helping me whatsoever.

More Nytol horrors

I started taking Nytol at nights to try to sleep easier and be less tempted by late night sugary treats, but by the end of my use I would wake up with empty Kit Kat wrappers in my bed anyway.

Empty Kit-Kat wrappers were an unwelcome bedfellow…..

On my ‘therapeutic’ dose of 3-4 tablets a night I’d often be on the verge of panic and would experience some other troubling side effects, including but not restricted to.

1. Seeing ghost faces in the back of my computer monitor that would disappear when I’d gaze away.
2. Being on edge and having to check the corners of my room after seeing things or people move in my peripheral vision.
3. Hearing telephones ringing when I was trying to drift off.
4. Being in bed and hearing people talking inside my head but being unable to determine what was being said. Best way I can describe it is with a Youtube link to the outro of “What You Want” by My Bloody Valentine. The talking in the background is very close to what I would hear.
5. Being more terrified of mirrors than usual. I remember seeing someone else’s face in the mirror one night other than my own. It was the drugs. But you tend to get terrified that one such sighting could be the start of a full on fucking episode.

Why I stopped diphenhydramine

The reason I stopped taking Nytol was because I wanted to do more with my nights. I wanted to feel vaguely human again and a bit less numb.

The last week has proved that I can sleep well (or even better) without any shitty drugs to help.

Sometimes I receive complaints from readers who try to argue that I’m somehow promoting drugs by writing about problems like this. They’re obviously missing the point. This blog is about my attempt to move past the problems I’ve experienced.

I can only write about what’s real to me. I could write the same old “running is great, carbs are bad, fast food is awful, booze will kill you, I’ll live forever with water” bullshit that you read on most other sites, but that’s of no use to anyone.

Besides, I fucking hate those blogs and those that write them.

Another 10 mile run tomorrow.

Tomorrow I’ll be going out again in much better weather to do another 10 miles! It will be great!

It’s been a frustrating time personally.

Ever feel frustrated about being frustrated?

I found this wonderful image on Red Wine Runner’s equally wonderful review of the Hoka Highland Fling. 

That’s where I’m at and it is my fault for responding badly. I accept full responsibility for being this way. The only way out is to find a recourse and unfortunately mine is hatred.

I’m not gonna let myself be frustrated about being frustrated about being frustrated.

The taboo of negativity

The problem with most fitness blogs is that they teach you how to reach greater and greater heights but never prep you for the point where you start to capitulate inside and it all comes apart at the seams.

You follow their every word, empty yourself of desire, attend yoga lessons, shave your balls and you still enter your personal crisis.

That’s when the shit really hits the fan because you’re out on your own then for being too negative.

You’re too negative man.

You’re meant to just smile more quinoa down and reflect on how much of a little enclave of positive thinking you’ve evolved into whilst the words ‘Cunt, fraud, cunt’ repeat in your head like the final distress call of air hostesses on a 747 as you brace for impact.

So as I do in times of deep personal crisis I go and read some Fitfluential blogs.

The Fitfluential bloggers are always there for me in my time of need. When I feel numb and am close to drowning under a sea of cheese and despair, I ‘get with the program’ and go Fitfluential.

I love hating the Fitfluential ambassadors.

Why? Well it’s not because they are empty shills who will sell yoghurt and clean eating to any hapless motherfucker for a dollar.

I’m intimidated because it’s the Fitfluential ambassadors that will be the last ones standing on mountain tops at the apocalypse, observing the charred bodies, reflectively snacking on positivity and Granola whilst dreaming of new, better ways to form a new, better species.

What keeps me going with the running is the mental image of a Fitfluential member eating a granola bar over my dead bloated body at Armageddon after I’ve survived the initial wave of nuclear bombs but succumbed to a death by dairy and choking on a block of cheese.

Over my dead fucking body.

I will pull myself out of this slump!

Good ways of pulling yourself out of a slump

1. Find something worth hating – Like Fitfluential. Then use your contempt for positive means to energise yourself into action.
2. Understand the cause of your slump and then do what you can to resolve the root problem - I’ve ran 2 marathons and a half marathon in a month and I’m fucking tired. It’s now my time to rest and to not feel sorry for myself. I’ll otherwise compound my problems and this bad spell will intensify.
3. Not all slumps are made equal. What you perceive to be a slump may well just be a tiny blip - By being negative about a slump you might trigger a proper slump. The truth is I’ve had a great holiday in the past week and I’m still recovering from marathons. I will run tomorrow. I will do what I can to eat better. Just because things are shitty now doesn’t mean they’ll always be that way.
   
4. Do anything positive - You don’t have to think positive to do something positive. Thinking does fuck all. It’s mental masturbation. If you’re on your way down then doing anything to right your course will help. Today I didn’t eat pizza and I walked an extra mile. This might not seem like much but it’s more than a meaningless gesture, it’s a positive forward step.
5. Morale is the key player - Don’t think about the enormity of the task ahead of you. That will fucking phase you if you’re weak minded like me. Case in point, I was thinking earlier about having to lose the weight I gained on holiday and the additional few pounds I’ve put on since then. This made me feel depressed and I had a fucking Kit Kat. Bad, but not a surprising response.

Bad ways to work your way out of a rut

1. Shaming yourself on the Internet and then making promises you can’t keep - “Yes! I’m gonna run a 100 mile race next month and eat nothing but broccoli as I’m an awful fat bastard!”
2. Blame everyone else for your descent - “My workout buddy is being blown like the bagpipes by a one eyed Slovenian waitress so I can’t run whilst he’s busy!”
   
3. Be overly harsh on yourself - “I’ve fucked this up again and that means I’m a bad person.” Not true. You may have messed up but that makes you normal. Getting back up and trying again is all you can do to prove to yourself that you are worth more than you think you are.
4. Denying that things aren’t going your way and that through some trick of fate you’ll be back on top soon - You’ve gotta accept responsibility, assess your situation soberly and act when necessary.

So yes. I’m really gonna follow my own advice for once and actually run tomorrow.

Wish me luck.

I’m fucking angry to be back

And tired.

In case you missed my outpouring of hate on Twitter on Tuesday afternoon, I spent 5 hours on a flight back from Heraklion with my legs crushed up against the seat in front of me.

The woman ahead of me kept reclining her chair into my knees and by the time we were over the Balkans I wanted her to be ejected off the flight through the emergency exit and for her to be consumed by one of the engines.

I politely asked the air hostess to tell her to put her seat forward but she wouldn’t really listen.

To compound my fucking misery, I finally hit the UK Border and was asked to produce my passport.

The man at the desk asked if I had an additional form of identification as I was not the person in the picture.

I had that picture taken when I was roughly 275lbs and at a time where I was regularly sporting greasy long hair. But regardless of my weight and my hair, my face is still the fucking same.

Fucking hell.

They let me back into the country but I no longer wanted to be there (after being in for 5 seconds).

I sulked and hailed a taxi.

Back onto the main topic of this post.

Benefits of taking a week off running in Crete

1. I’m refreshed mentally - 2 marathons in a month had taken it’s toll on my enthusiasm for jogging. I hated having to run between 10 and 12 miles for short runs followed by 18 mile long runs every weekend. I’m relaxed now and have a fresh perspective on running. I’m not under any obligations at the minute to do anything.
2. Good holidays give me incentive to continue on running - Crete was amazing. I want to have another week like that in 6-8 months time. If I did not have that incentive then I’d have nothing to run for.
3. Thanks to the time off I now have a vision for the next 6 months - I’m gonna run the Dublin Marathon 2013 and just focus on attaining my key goals of running a sub 2 hour half marathon and reaching below 200lbs by the end of the year.

The drawbacks of taking the week off running in Crete

1. I’ve gained 5lbs in a week -  I was reluctant to weigh myself as I often am directly after my holidays, but I stepped on the scale and I’m 208lbs. Most of the 5lb gain is likely just bloat that will disappear within a week but I’m pretty certain I’ve gained at least 2lbs from excessive food and drink.
2. Could I have spent the holiday in a healthier way? - The purist in me wonders if it was worthwhile being decadent for a week when it might take another month to get back to where I was before the marathon. Maybe I need to become a Fitfluential motherfucker and take weekend retreats in a health farm where the only thing you’re fed is rice cakes and empty lies?
3. I worry that I’ve lost my fitness - I don’t even know if this is true or not as I haven’t ran since last Monday’s marathon but I’m pretty certain the extra weight will make running more difficult. I’m gonna try my first run tomorrow.

Sorry for the lack of posts and/or Facebook talk in the last few days. I’ve been very busy but I’m back into a proper sleeping cycle now so everything will be back to normal.

Yesterday I read about the Marathon of the North and how all of the runners (except one very fast guy) did not record official times for the race because the race marshals sent the chasing pack the wrong way.

What compounds the story is the attitude of those responsible for this mess.

So far the race organisers have came forward offering runners 25% off future races and that’s about the height of it.

Ways the organisers should respond

1. Offer full refunds - Instead of offering shitty discounts to races that may or may not happen they could do the honest thing and give people a full refund. These people entered a marathon and they were not given a marathon. If I were to list a King-Sized Toberlone on Ebay with one huge chunk bitten out of it then I’d be committing a criminal (albeit delicious) act.
2. Stop assuming that people will want to run any of their races - It’s fucking shocking that they have the audacity to talk about alternative races – A fair percentage of those who ran that race were probably doing their first marathons. To have that happen on your first fucking race would put you off running for life. It’s insane that they have the fucking balls to talk about “future participation”.  What the actual fuck?
3. “We got the marathon distance right. Everyone else has got it wrong!” - If they’re gonna carry on with this ballsy “we’re sorry folks but that’s just the way it is” line, then they could at least go one step further and claim that they had measured the course out right and that all of the other races have measured the marathon distance wrong. They’ve dug themselves one hell of a hole so they might as well keep digging.
4. Disqualify the guy who won the race - And declare all of the other runners joint winners. They’ve already lost all credibility so they might as well start making up their own rules. As a token goodwill gesture they could bake complimentary medals made out of chocolate and Moroccan hashish and declare that the next race will be held in July 2013 on Saturn.
5. Offer proper compensation part 1 - The race organisers who fucked this all up should be forced to run the marathon distance over hot coals for charity with the proceeds being split between charities. Once they’ve completed this task then someone should tell them that due to a cock-up they didn’t run the required distance and will have to do it all again.
   
6. Offer proper compensation part 2 - Volunteer to be put in pillories in Sunderland town centre and offer the general public the chance to slap them for £10 a pop. All proceeds going to good causes.

How I’d react.

1. If it was my first marathon I’d probably never run again. I’d lose faith in any race organisers to measure the distance correctly and this would fuck up my mental preparation for any forthcoming races.
2. I’d feel very upset for letting my charity down even though it wasn’t my fault – I didn’t complete the race.
3. I’d be seriously fucked off for having trained for 4 months only with nothing to show for it in return.

So how would you react if this happened to you?

So for a bit of a change I’ve decided to write a little journal of how my average day has went here.

I’ll be back to posting about running next week!

Morning time

I start the day with a mouth as dry as a nun’s crack. I try to recall what happened the night before and worst case scenarios skirt around my head.

What if I wake up next to a Scottish psychopath who has knocked out all of my teeth with a toffee hammer?

Terror in my head.

Getting my thoughts together.

After a shower I start to feel all right and head into town.

The one thing that I’ve noticed about this area of Crete is the sheer number of stray cats about.

At first I thought I was hallucinating but they are fucking everywhere. Here’s a picture of a few of them forming the starting of a little kitty rock festival.

Today I went out and got a full English breakfast along with two tequila sunrises. It was only 12 noon, but I’m on holiday so I can drink like that and not worry that I’m heading into George Best territory.

I’m staying in a town called Stalis in Crete which is next to a legendary shithole called Malia and another prettier town called Cheronisou.

With the weather being absolutely beautiful I decided to walk off my breakfast by heading to Cheronisou. It was an 8 mile round trip.

It must have taken around an hour and a half to walk 4 miles but it was brilliant just being able to take in the sun and head out at my own pace.

I got lost in a little village called Koutouloufari which is based on a hill. It consists of a few taverns that are decorated (and quite possibly frequented) by masses of stray fucking cats.

Crete really is an amazing place to go out walking. For a moment you think you’re lost and then you find another little village that is more beautiful than the last one.

Dinner

I’m staying half-board here so I get both breakfast and dinner for free.

The dinner buffet at this hotel is amazing. I’ve been eating Greek Salad every single night and I don’t think I’ll ever tire of the fucking thing. Fabulous.

And the waiters are amazing people too.

If I had to deal with gack-eyed Irishmen in gaudy shorts and t-shirts then I’d become incoherent with rage and/or stabby with kebab skewers.

Entertainment and the pub

There isn’t really that much going on nightlife wise here in Stalis. I could go to Malia which is just 1km down the road but it’s fucking hell on earth and expensive.

I’d rather just enjoy myself.

Nowadays a normal night out for me involves going out and drinking a few pints before finding a restaurant that sells takeaway Gyros.

Tonight for a change, I went to a place called Angelo’s Restaurant around the corner from the hotel. I got a Gyro plate, 2 pints of beer and a cocktail for 16 euro.

I’m slightly fucking frazzled now.

Anyway the entertainment in the hotel tonight is ‘Music Quiz Night’.

The bad part of my head wants to heckle the wrong answers to random questions in a poor attempt to affront the broads who are harassing the quizmaster to replay the question that contains the 5 second sample of ‘Sex On Fire’.

It’s by Queens of Leonard you fucking whores!

Retiring to my balcony

I love sitting on my balcony at night and listening to music. If it’s a clear night and I’m underneath the stars then I’ll fire up my iPad and the Star Walk application.

It’s amazing being able to pinpoint stars and planets. It’s humbling to think that each of those stars could well host planets that are thriving with life.

You’re staring at a star that could have……

• Dogs with mortgages.
• Politicians with integrity.
• Cats on benefits.
• Beer that screams when you drink it.
• You get the idea….

Tips for enjoying your holiday as an obsessive runner 

1. Don’t put pressure on yourself to run after a night out on the piss on holidays. You’ll just hate yourself and/or collapse after it.
2. If you’re going on holiday then arrange it for after any of your key races. Last year I went to Portugal and the Costa Del Sol 2 weeks before Belfast 2012. It was a shit holiday as I was always worrying about running. Now that I’ve ran the Belfast Marathon 2013 I’m here and I don’t give a fuck about running. If it happens, it happens.
3. Sometimes you just have to let yourself go with eating and drinking. This is my week for this shit after the past 2 marathons. There will be none of that guilt shit on this holiday.
4. If you meet any Scottish women/men on holiday, kindly ask them to dispose of any toffee hammers that they may have on their person before getting intimate with them.

What follows is a short breakdown of the race, my new fueling strategy and most importantly my tactics for getting through the wall.

Early race strategy

I can’t say much about the first 18 or so miles of the Belfast Marathon. It went perfectly with me being able to keep a 10:18 min/mile pace without a problem.

A highlight was at mile 9 where I met Mark who was out with his fire crew supporting the runners with refreshments. As a keen marathoner himself (who cut an hour off his marathon PB in 6 months), Mark was fucking sprinting after runners with bottles of water for them.

I thought he was gonna fucking try to kill them at first going by how quickly he took off after them.

A great service.

A new fueling strategy

My fueling strategy for long slow runs is notoriously poor. It consists of running for as long as I can, burning out and then making a lame attempt to revive myself with some Lucozade Sport.

It rarely works.

This time around I tried something different. I bought 5 packets of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and 3 SIS Berry Gels with Caffeine and put them in my Camelbak for the race.

This is how my conveyor belt in Tesco looked like on Sunday afternoon….

A peanut buttery strategy…

My strategy this time involved eating a Reese’s Cup every mile from 4-14 miles.

I tried to consume them after that but they had become all soggy with my sweat.

Disgusting.

I was that embarrassed by the situation that I threw my last packet of Cups across the road, nearly twatting an angry-looking relay runner square in the face with them.

If that girl ever reads this blog, then I’m sorry for nearly slapping you in the face. I was not offended by your presence, I just needed to get rid of those horrible fucking things as quickly as possible.

It was just a coincidence that your face aligned with the best angle for disposal.

Tiring and preparing to hit the wall…

At 15 I ran with a fellow from Sligo and having someone to run with helped so much. The only problem was that we kept slowing down and speeding up at different times making it difficult to get into a proper rhythm.

Eventually he broke away and I wished him the best and I knuckled down into the race again.

From mile 16-20 I was still running strong and took in 2 of the SIS Berry Gels and they definitely gave me a boost.

Hitting the wall but not collapsing

The wall came as expected at mile 20 but fortunately it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the Paris meltdown.

Before the race I accepted that I would have to walk a little bit and kept my head up and drank as much isotonic drink as I could during these breaks.

The glucose from the drink meant that I kept breaking back into half mile jogs before walking again and drinking more Lucozade Sport.

The damage limitation game…

At mile 20 I figured that if I walked the rest of the race at a 15 minute mile I’d finish in 4:58.

Instead of being upset with myself at stopping to walk, I took the same positive spin on the race that I did in Paris. I kept my head up high, walked as fast as I could when I had to and actually fucking smiled and relaxed.

So with the 4:58 worst scenario finish in my mind I focused on building on that mile on mile.

Here are a breakdown of my miles post-wall. When I say ‘Walk rest of race’ I’m implying that I’ll walk the rest of the race at a 15 minute mile pace.

Mile 21 – 11:55 – Walk rest of race and finish in 4:55

Mile 21 was the hardest run as part of me felt like I was cheating the Northern Ireland Hospice and all of the kind people who have sponsored me by walking again.

For 5 or 10 minutes I retreated back into my mind and it wasn’t a pretty place to be.

Mile 22 – 11:23 – Walk rest of race and finish in 4:52:30

This is when I knew I was gonna get a personal best. The pressure was lifted from my shoulders. I could run lighter and just take the race atmosphere in and not collapse mentally for once at the end.

Mile 23 – 11:50 – Walk rest of race and finish in 4:49

I was maybe a bit guilty of relaxing too much after mile 22. The concept that I still had another 3 miles to run killed my spirit.

At the start of the towpath my heart sank as one of the marshals shouted “Keep going everyone, you’re doing great! You’re set for a 4:45 finish!”.

This did not rest well on my mind. Here I was shuffling badly between a walk-jog-walk and to compound my misery I was gonna struggle to finish in 4:45.

It was at this point that I made a conscious decision to try to record a more impressive personal best and to ignore everyone else and just keep doing what I was doing.

Mile 24 – 11:26 – Walk rest of race and finish in 4:45:30

At mile 24 we passed up the Ormeau Road past the Northern Ireland Hospice Shop and their support team. Since I wasn’t wearing a Hospice top they didn’t recognise me but I was still motivated by their kindness towards all of the runners.

Towards the end of the mile I knew it was possible that I could record a sub 4:40 time.

Suddenly I believed in myself again.

Mile 25 – 10:53 – Walk rest of race and finish in 4:41:30

I was spurred on by Wayne from Uni who shouted “Go on Matt! Only a mile to go!”.

My spirit soared as I was on the final downhill stretch and I knew I was gonna go sub 4:40.

Mile 26 – 10:05 – I am not walking the rest of this fucking race!

I put all I could into mile 26 and finished with one of my fastest splits of the race.

By the time I got to 26 miles I decided to just fucking go for it and finished on a sprint passing tons of confused/bewildered relay runners.

Forrest Gump mode had been initiated.

I can’t really remember much else about finishing. I remember seeing 4:37 and just feeling proud of myself instead of disappointed for once. It was a great experience.

After the race I collapsed on the grass in the Ozone Complex and cramped up a lot.

Lessons learned.

1. The wall isn’t something to be scared of, it’s just something you have to be ready for. I’ve hit it in all 4 of my marathons so far and each time it has sucked a little bit less.
2. Since I started the race running 10:18 min/miles I expected the wall to be a lot worse this time. It wasn’t. In my last 3 marathons I’ve tried to run 11 minute/miles in the hope that the slower pace would lead to wall not coming at all.  It did and it felt worse as my times were shitty.
3. Marathons don’t necessarily have to be awful rape-like experiences. The 2013 Belfast Marathon for me was actually quite enjoyable and I’ll do it again at some point (next year knowing me!).

1. Anger management - I’m much less angry these days. I did my final run for the Belfast Marathon 2013 today and it was a great one. I even slowed down to give a lost driver directions. I still get angry and really fucked off but I can get through those feelings by just running and burning off my empty hatred.
2. Overall improved mood - My highs are much higher and my lows are less drastic. I find myself smiling much more these days. I never really get to the point where I feel like I’m in crisis which is excellent.
3. Better perspective on life - I don’t really care as much about a career and making my mark on the world. It just seems pointless. I spent all winter staring into a black starry sky and felt lost within it all. Staring out at the night sky is much the same as looking inwardly at yourself. You look at galaxies and at the centre of every one of them is a black hole that threatens their very being. As humans we’ve the same design. We try to fill our own personal black holes with politics, religion, sport or anything that will try to plug a gap that can never be filled.  You run on a starry night and look up and you recognise some element of yourself but you can’t describe it as you can’t find the words.
   
4. Hope for the future - Whilst I’m still running I know that I have a brighter future where I’ll struggle less with my weight. Previously I’d assumed that I would be faced with yo-yo dieting for the rest of my life. Now I know it’s under control whilst I remain sensible. I don’t have to run hard and I don’t have to give up the foods I love. I just have to move more. And I’ll move more whilst I continue to enjoy running!
5. Clarity of mind - When I run everything seems to click. As a programmer I often run into problems that I can’t fix during the work day. I’ll then go out for a run the next morning and suddenly the answer will come to me on the run. I can concentrate easier than before as well. When you’re running you have the choice of either concentrating or going insane. I try to concentrate and it’s certainly helped my focus!
6. Conquer addiction and bad habits - Whilst I still drink at the weekends and on holiday, I never drink to the point where I’m endangering myself anymore. Running comes before alcohol. I was close to giving up on running forever after the Belfast Marathon 2011 after getting lost in a bad cycle of weekend binges and depression. I hit the point where I knew I had to keep running and moderate my intake or go completely fucking insane. Thankfully I chose the former option!
7. Greater sense of freedom - When I was 280lbs I felt like I was trapped within my body and that if I went out walking around town I could sense that I was constrained by my slow body. Nowadays I feel free. If I’m late for work I can just run and not be late. If I’m on on holiday I can see so much of the town by just going on a morning run around the resort. It saves me having to pay for a tour bus!
8. More friends, less sense of isolation –  Through joining the running community, I’ve met many like-minded individuals who started running for similar reasons to myself. It’s great knowing that I’m not alone and that there are so many others out there like me.
   
9. Greater independence - Travelling to races all across the UK and Europe has given me the confidence to travel and survive on my own. Running solo each morning too has proven to me that I don’t really need anyone apart from myself to thrive.
10. I have more to look forward to in life – Regardless of where you are in your life now with your running you have the potential to improve immeasurably and dwarf your ambitions. You’ve just gotta keep cutting through the mundane shit and enjoy it all as it passes.

1. Running across roads without checking both ways to see if it is safe to cross - I always try to check for cars when I’m on the pavement but sometimes I become so tired that I just stop caring and vault across the road without much care. This is common during my long runs where I’m so fatigued I’ll just take the quickest route home. I’ve had too many near-misses to mention….
2. Running past bars especially at night – This is the best way to receive a free bottle to the back of the head from drunken assholes. Fortunately this is a rare occurrence. It’s more usual to have a drunken reveller tag along with you for 100 yards whilst hurling affectionate abuse at you every step of the way.
   
   Wow you’re a big fucker, man! How do you even move let alone jog?! 
3. Running in unknown neighbourhoods without checking Google Maps before hand - Straying into the wrong area can have tragic consequences, especially if you’re a 6 foot man running in a pencil skirt in farmer country at dawn. Always prepare your route out well in advance and tell your family and friends where you’re going (and try not to cross dress in farmer country, unless you’re a farmer).
4. Running through dizzy spells where you’ve been about ready to faint and ignoring it – There have been times where I’ve felt ill and faint but pushed on through as I thought the shame of not finishing a run was worse than a little lightheadedness. It isn’t clever to ignore your body. The next time I try this I might pass out or even worse…
5. Flying off the back of a treadmill - You’re in for a world of pain if you configure the treadmill to the highest setting in hope of impressing the prince / princess beside you on the next machine. You will impress no-one when you spin tits-over-ass onto the floor. Don’t try to be a hero and go slow!
   
6. Running so hard that you forget the pavement exists - Picture this! You’re running a race that you’ve been training all year for. Now the finishing line is in sight and you have vast amounts of kick left and you’re unstoppable. Except you’re not. You’re that absorbed by the pumping of your muscles that your feet fail to negotiate the terrain you’re running on and you go down, leaving you with the task of picking bits of tarmac out of your face for the next decade.
   
7. Giving shady looking dog owners or clumsy pedestrians a dirty look - If someone acts selfishly outside, the temptation is to either remonstrate with them or to just give them the evil eye. Neither approach will help. It will only take you to look at the wrong person once for you to have your head smashed in. Try to be polite to others even if you hate their fucking guts. You’re out to run, not to pick fights.
8. Running around corners too close to the inside lane - I did this in December and very nearly ran into a young woman walking an Alsatian. If I’d been half a second quicker then she’d have released the hound and this blog would have been no more.
9. Running in the summer along country roads with a crippling fear of insects - Whenever the weather is fine and the bugs are out I do whatever I can to get out of the way of wasps and bees, even if it involves running in front of traffic. I wish I was joking. When a wasp flies at me all bets are off. To give you an example of how scared I am of them, I was only three weeks into my new job when I had to run from the train to work as it was pouring outside with rain. My boss came in and asked me ‘What’s that on your lapel, Matt?’. I stared down at my suit jacket and there lay a drowned wasp. When I realised what it was, I jumped up from my chair, performed a rain dance around the office in a vain attempt to shake it off. Suffice to say, I did not win ‘Professional of the Month’ for that episode.
   
10. Running in low level lighting without a head lamp -  Even with street lights winter early morning running is hazard. There have been times I’ve tripped down the curb on a routine jog out into the country. If I were to injure myself I’d be stranded and the chances of being eaten alive by a mutant pack of Irish coyotes would be alarmingly high.
    
11. Ignoring important social cues because you’re listening to your tunes - If you drown out the world around you with your MP3 player you put yourself at more risk from traffic and potential assailants. You become something of a soft target. I stopped wearing earphones as I reacted nervously every time someone passed me from behind. Since I couldn’t hear them coming I’d get quite a fright and almost flap at them in panic.
12. Crossing in front of cars instead of behind them - This is a recipe for disaster. Even if the motorist is waving me on across the road I have to assume that this is someone I’ve had a run-in with the past and he’s gonna floor it the moment I step out like I’m his little badger. Fuck that!