What a year of running it’s been, hell, what a year. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry; laugh about all the fantastic times I’ve had running with my marvellous mates, supping coffee or something stronger, telling tall tales about PBs and getting lost, or cry about the crazy things that have happened in the world in 2016. Maybe I’ll stick to laughing, it uses more muscles.
So many runs, so many races, a lot of tripping up, some falling over, but overall, not enough mud, there’s never enough mud. My favourite by a long chalk was the Yorkshireman Half, oh my goodness, it’s a hard run, that one. Not for the faint-hearted or navigationally challenged. A fantastic Yorkshire fell race, no fancy medals, just a tee-shirt, bowl of stew and a pat on the back.
Now the run-up to Christmas will be just that, with my long-suffering legs pushed into the Marcothon Challenge for the second year running. It’s all very simple, run every day in December, a minimum of 25 minutes 0r 5km – and if you think you’re cheating, you probably are.
So week one and we’re off. Noel comes along as support crew, but he’s not officially doing it, he doesn’t do challenges, unless you count living with me! Actually the biggest challenge is keeping up with the kit washing. I have limited choices and don’t expect the skimpy summer vest to be coming out any time soon, even with the predicted warm snap. Maybe Santa will bring me some more!
It’s going to get a bit trickier when we head to the Alps for a pre-Christmas ski, but a challenge is a challenge, even if it means running in the airport, or in the snow. I’ve checked the rules, covering 5km on skis doesn’t count. Pity, that would be a definite PB.