Over-doing it on my birthday!

It's my birthday, it's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and where am I?

a) In the pub drinking champagne?
b) In a restaurant indulging in tasty vegan treats?
c) In the park with my friends getting trashed (or whatever it is the yoof do these days)?
d) Running along Regent's Canal while my poor aunty awaits me with wishes for a more rock 'n' roll neice?

No prizes for guessing, my version of birthday excess was to go for the long run I've been procrastinating about for the past 2 weeks. My previous longest run was 10k, so I thought "hmm, maybe I'll try about 11k today", but I made the mistake of not measuring the added stretch of the route until I got back and, oops, I did 13k - all the way to Paddington Basin (from Caledonian Road)! As I passed Little Venice I savoured a smell of 'gardens' (mingled herbs, flowers, and soil/rotting), which reminded me of my early childhood. I crave more outdoor time, which running is helping with.

No wonder that last stretch was so difficult! The first 3k hurt a bit, for about 6/7k after that it was really quite fun! The last 3 hurt a lot and I felt very drained, though the giant climbing plant that turned an amazing sunset/bonfire hue a few weeks back still has enough warmth in its leaves for a hug-like colour bath as I pass. I hope increasing fitness will extend that lovely middle middle bit and decrease those tricky painful bits!

Obvioulsy I over-did it, and was completely exhausted for my birthday evening - my band b-loco played at Music is the Weapon (Brixton Jamm). But it was amazing fun anyway, and I got to bed at 7am....

My legs still ache! I felt I am starting to get some technique and still benefitting and improving lots despite losing my routine with the change of job (and I STILL haven't got a bicycle...).

As the weather gets colder it is a drawback needing to stop when I reach Camden Lock market - it's slow progress with shoppers and tourists, and I got really freezing on the way back. But every cloud has a silver lining - with money tucked in my sock I was able to buy much needed water from one of the food stalls. I believe I need to start thinking about snacks and drinks and all sorts of tekkie things if I go any further. Perhaps my aunty was right about subscribing to a running magazine now that I'm not speaking to Mr Slippery Fishy.

Oh, and the other benefit of running through Camden is the opportunity to take fashion inspiration from the yoof contingent ever-present on the grassy verges. Ever so useful now that I am working with the yoof (though indirectly). I wonder who will crack first and seek warmer surroundings as the canal-side temperature drops - me or them?

Distracted by bicycles and darkening nights

Today I planned to go out for a long run, but I didn't get out at all, grrrrr....

The trouble is, I'm starting a new job tomorrow. This one won't be by the canal, so maybe I'll need to become Canal, River and Royal Parks Explorer, as it's in Westminster! I am yet to find out whether they have a shower in the building to enable lunchtime runs.

Because of this new need to travel to work (rather than a 3 minute stroll, shock horror), I decided to buy a new bicycle as my old one has been out of action for almost a year now on and off, and has never been all that ride-able as it was second hand, purchased from a man who builds them in his back garden in Whitechapel (introduction by another ex-boyfriend, it's good to tap them for such knowledge while you have the chance - he also taught me to play cricket).

My problem is, I am romanced by bicycles that look beautiful (especially really heavy retro-looking city bikes with 3 gears and a big bell), and can't bring myself to get enthusiastic about functional and sensible bikes... BUT I'm a cycling wimp - the less effort I have to make the better, and I want to use it to go out of town on cycling holidays and things. So I really need something comfortable.

Today, rather predictably, I fell in love with a cream-framed beauty with shiny red metal mudguards and a big wicker basket ('The Pashley'). I knew it was out of my price range, but I decided to take it for a test ride, only to discover that it was neurotic and annoying and impractical. But I still loved it for how it looked. It was a bit like falling in love with a model who is hung up about her figure and whinges a lot and won't do anything in case she breaks her nails. But she is soooo beautiful that you think maybe you can overlook those minor difficulties....

The outome was that I spent so long in the shop that it was getting dark and I couldn't go for the eagerly planned long run, how sad. Nor did I come home with a new bicycle, beautiful or otherwise, but I am going back tomorrow in the hope of finding my perfect match which is alright looking but fun to be with and keen to go on adventures. Maybe I'll find a bicycle too.

Inspiration strikes!

Why bother blogging about my running adventures, you may ask.

Weeeeellll, it was Marmite Lover who exposed me to the wonderful world of blogging. She is an excellent writer, insightful and painfully funny. I realised that more and more often I was twittering on about my running experiences on the dreaded facebook. The wildlife I'd seen, the GIANT rats, the feelings of joy I was experiencing...

Then I realised that the more I looked the more wacky became the sights that I saw! London Zoo with the crazy birds, wild boar and hyenas... the spectrum of social strata using the space (which appeals to me as a Cultural Studies graduate)... but the turning point for me was when I saw the Holloways playing a barge-top gig in Camden Lock. The (always crowded on a weekend) market-side section of tow path was exceptionally packed, and there was a real buzz of excitement as they tuned up ready to blare out some tunes. I felt particularly out-of-touch as I asked trendy looking types who the new-fangled guitar combo were (my musical knowledge freezes around 2003, peaking in the mid-late 90s... I suspect this will improve when I eventually have children). I continued my run and they were in full swing as I ran (or rather squeezed) past again on the way back. It was one of life's sweet moments, like an unexpected rock festival in my daily routine.

It's not your average jogging route that gives such varied sights, so I decided that perhaps Marmite Lover had a point about me starting a blog of my running progress and canal-side observations.

I can now run 10km, and probably without stopping if it wasn't for the teenagers having raves underneath the bridges in Camden Town. To be honest, I think they have a lot to learn from the Space Hijackers about how to throw a party - it's mainly sitting across the path drinking cider and generally being in the way. The best I've seen yet had just about managed to put their mobile phone on loudspeaker or something and there was a dum-cha-dum-cha-dum-cha rattly rhythm emanating from the corner as they half-heartedly blocked the tow-path.

I know that makes me sound old, but their efforts are just not quite of the Pirate Party in Greenwich foot-tunnel calibre... perhaps helping out the Lost Camden Youth could be a new project for them, I may suggest it.... and use lots more trailing dots in my future posts, yes, that is always good for drama and suspense and sounding amateurish....

The aforementioned sport-crazed Mr Slippery Fish gave me a training plan which involves a distance lengthening run, a speed improving run, and a consistency improving run each week, always with a recovery day in-between. I'm not bad at the long, slow runs; the 'short, fast' runs tend to be 'short, slow' ones at the moment though. I don't yet have a stop watch, so consistency conschmistency. Hmmm.

I was a bit faster yesterday, however, despite running in the dark - not really advisible for a lone-lady, given the canal's gruesome reputation. Drat these dark nights. Luckily a work colleaugue is going to be my running buddy for just such situations.

Yesterday's main discovery: the youth of today have no manners (what's the point in having a blog if I cant whinge about the youth of today?!).

Lazy libran gets her running shoes on

I can hardly believe it myself, but yes, I have joined the leagues of runners in our capital, and have rapidly become addicted to this 'injection of joy'!

I realise now that being out in running gear is like being out in a business suit - you are immediately pigeon-holed and virtually invisible other than in this very narrow identity. I have done it myself - labelling the passing 'runner' without considering that they have a whole life separate from running. When I put on my running gear I am no longer office worker, samba drummer, or foxy lady: I am part of the canal 'furniture' that consists of runners, cyclists, fishermen, Emos drinking cider and workmen on their lunchbreak - and thus quite anonymous (though sadly not as invisible as I might like).

It all started when I was reading the Alex James biography 'A Bit of a Blur' back in January this year. Hearing of his metamorphasis from beer-swilling rock star to healthy happy husband/father/farmer, I thought "it can't be so bad afterall, this running malarky" (there's a key point when he takes up jogging). Try to appreciate - this was UNHEARD OF in my mentality previously. Exercise, I always believed, needed to be functional (cycling to work, a dance class, a martial art...) - never would I have set out to run for runnings sake alone... but all that was about to change.

My first attempt was to go up the hill to Angel Islington wearing my bad 'fashion trainers', to 'do a bit of shopping'. Note the number of flaws in this plan: the appallingly inappropriate footwear, the fact that it was going to involve shopping, the HILL....

I didn't pace myself at all, got hideously out of breath, had to keep stopping, and ached all-over having not done any stretches or warm-ups or anything like that - it was enough to put me off for the next 4-5 months.

So really it's all down to my ex-boyfriend (let's call him Mr Slippery Fish). He's a bit mental like that - doing triathlons, marathons, very long cycle-rides, all those sorts of things, a world totally alien to a lazy Libran like me. We only went out for a couple of months, but I seized the opporunity to milk him for advice on running shoes (during an ever-so romantic trip to Runner's Need, where they watched me run and recommended shoes exactly right for my needs) and training regimes (scribbled down during a less-romantic visit to collect some of his stuff after we broke up)... it's good to have such a positive legacy of a failed romance, and here I am now going out several times a week - ME!!

I am very lucky to live and work overlooking the Regent's Canal. From the workmen of Kings Cross, the wildlife of Camley Street Natural Park, and the mashed-up sights, sounds and smells of Camden Town, to the grandiosity of Regents Park, London Zoo, Primrose Hill, and beyond to housing estates, Little Venice, Paddington Basin, and the (as yet un-jogged) farther reaches out towards Notting Hill and beyond.... there's a whole running world out there to be explored!