IT never ceases to amaze me those who can run mile after mile. I met Dr Mike Stroud last year, the man who ran seven marathons on seven continents in seven days with Sir Ranulph Fiennes - and did it.

I asked him how can you possibly bring yourself to run another marathon so soon after another when your body is in wipe-out mode both mentally and physically. Dr Stroud simply replied that if someone put a gun to your head and told you to run another marathon, you would! End of story!

But I still don't get it. The furthest I have ever run are two London Marathons when I was dead on my feet at the end of 26-miles. There was no way I could have contemplated another marathon a day or even a week later. I would have preferred to have been shot in the head - at least the pain is much quicker than running another marathon.
advertisement


It is why when I was compiling a schedule of events for next year, several people suggested I should consider one of these ultra distance races - 30, 40 and 50-mile events, or 100-hour torture runs. I didn't even need a nano-second to say "no".

Next year's run is not about endurance or survival - it is about keeping my body fit and injury-free as best as possible, and ultra distance running is only going to increase the likelihood of major muscular or tissue damage.

At the weekend I ran a measly, and in the grand scheme of things it is measly, 16 miles. Thirteen miles last week, 16 this weekend and 13 this coming Sunday with the Gosport Half Marathon - all slow and steady progress towards building stamina and fitness for a marathon and what lies ahead.

I was out running for two hours and afterwards, despite organising a birthday treasure hunt for my 11-year-old son Leo in the afternoon when a few of the muscles were aching, it went fairly well. I had a massage the following day with a qualified sports masseur called Mark, who I will write more of at another time. But the massage was superb. He seemed to untangle all the knotted muscles and get the blood flow moving in my tired and aching legs.

That evening, I went for a very gentle five-mile run with Stubbington Green around the streets of Whiteley and Park Gate. It was cautious eight-minute miling, but just the job. Could I have run 26 miles, or even another 16 miles the following day? Absolutely no way!