Tag Archives: Running

Excuse my fartlek

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"You ready for some fartlek"?

“You ready for some fartlek”?

“I want to run faster. What can do I do run faster?” I pestered a friend some years ago. This was just after I began running long distances. I thought the guy would be a good authority to seek advice from, given he subscribed to running magazines and was always crapping on about various techniques.

“You should do fartlek“.

“FART WHAT“??!!

“Fartlek. It’s where you run fast, run slow, run fast, run slow“.

“Why do I even bother asking you anything! You know, I ask you for advice on how to run faster and all I get is ‘run fast, run slow’. Even worse, you call it … what did you call it again? Fartlek! What is that? Shit, that sounds like something you do when you inhale vindaloo the night before a run and then have to exhale it out the other end during the run“! Continue reading →

4 things I hate about you

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It’s pretty cold in Sydney these days.

"Get your sweaty ass off my couch" is what my wife would say, if she saw me doing this!

“Get your sweaty ass off my couch” is what my wife would say, if she saw me doing this!

For those who have never experienced it here at the ass-end of the world, our winter doesn’t engender the fuzzy, jingle-bell, white-snow kind of feeling that northern hemisphere people are often used to. Our one is more the windy, biting, chill-to-the-bone kind that belies the sunshine above our heads. It is also the only time of the year that reminds me of the fact that I have nipples.

It’s not that the low temperature suddenly makes me beam with pride that I have them. Rather, it makes them beam so high that I wish I didn’t. I’m not sure about other men (as for women, I won’t even go there), but every time I head out for a run during winter, these stiffened nipples of mine rub very uncomfortably against whatever top I am wearing. Continue reading →

To run is to chill

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I have an affinity with running, one that has grown over the years to become a passion. That passion, at least for me, is rarely motivated by the reasons that people commonly assume are behind the act of running. To lose weight? My weight is just fine, thank you! To improve cardiovascular fitness? What’s that!?! To win races? Yeah, right! To clock ever-faster pacing? Couldn’t care less!

A privilege to have a hobby that puts THIS in my head

A privilege to have a hobby that puts THIS in my head

Don’t get me wrong, I always strive to beat my PBs in every race that I enter and my mood swings depending on whether I succeed or not. But I can honestly say, hand to heart, that wanting to become a better and faster runner is about the further thing from my mind whenever I lace up my trusty pair of Brooks and head out for a jog.

So what is it, then? Why would anyone put himself through the drudgery of running, putting undue pressure on the joints, unsightly sweat on the body and unattractive grimace on the hills? Why would anyone do this, often for an hour or two at a time, when there are so many more pleasant things to do in life?

Fucked if I know!

But let me put it another way. What if you were blessed with the opportunity to take up a hobby? Continue reading →

Running the show

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According to race organisers, there were 10,451 runners who successfully crossed the finish line in last Sunday’s Sydney Morning Herald Half Marathon, yours truly proudly among them. However, I can tell you for a fact that the population on, off and along course that day was easily double that official figure.

Champions!

Champions!

Firstly, there were the runners who, for whatever reason, did not finish. There is no shame in that. Indeed, it could happen to the best of them, due to injuries, cramps, hangovers from the previous night or some macho-dare between friends gone horribly wrong.

Secondly, there were the numerous spectators along the course. Some of them fanatically cheered on their family members and friends, often waving some amusing signs (“Hurry mum, I want breakfast. Dad’s still asleep!“) and some not so amusing ones (“My dad’s in front of you, and he’s 68!“). Continue reading →

When two runners collide

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“Hey, have you heard of this guy who calls himself the Jogging Dad“?

“Jogging who“?

“Yeah, I didn’t know him from a bar of soap either, until I literally ran into him while I was on my morning running today“.

Could've been like this!

Could’ve been like this!

“Wait a sec, if you don’t know him, how did you run into him“?

“No, hear me out. So I was running, minding my own business, turned a sharp corner and BAM! I almost ran straight into this middle-aged guy who was coming around the other way. I don’t know what he was on but, boy, he looked mighty chirpy for someone who was panting so hard.

Anyway, he apologised, I apologised and then I noticed he was wearing a running singlet with “joggingdad.com” in small letters printed across the back. When I got to work later that morning, I naturally checked out the website and found that he blogs about running, parenting and a bunch of other horseshit“. Continue reading →