Strength

Sarah Storey borrowed my Allen key (not actually mine, but the one I was holding). Not the greatest headline, but it was a thrill, realising you're in the company of someone famous and not quite knowing what to say or do. I was again down at the Velodrome in Manchester working with Jody on prosthetic stuff, and she was there doing speed drills. Much like running training I guess, except this was the real deal. After each drill on maximum effort, she'd come in to recover while blood samples were taken. It all seemed curiously routine and businesslike. Rarely have I seen anyone so close to collapsing. Hauling and dragging in every breath like her life depended on it. No one seemed concerned. This is what they do here. It's special. The Para British Cycling Team are in LA now for the Track World Championships. Check it out. It's the last stop before London. Being with real athletes is interesting, from my perspective as a 'hobby runner'. That last expression may dumb down my efforts; I consider myself a serious runner, obviously. 

But in relation to these people, their dedication, and above all their strength and commitment, is beyond reproach. As my years have passed, I've looked forward to two things that advanced age promises. The tease of cheaper car insurance and the assurance from my Mum that I will 'fill out'. At 47, I'm not giving up hope yet. I've never had real physical strength. At best, I can remove a jam jar lid while holding a smile, or deploy cunning, levers and pulleys to move stuff around, but brawn and I have never been bed fellows. Mental strength is another issue and this is tested, teased and tortured on a regular basis. 

Running training for me, is more a mental battle than a physical one. But again, while watching and admiring the physical demonstration of these athletes spinning round and round this track, it's their mental approach and focus that impresses me more. There's much to learn in life from this I was thinking, as I struggled with my increasingly heavy drill once more in the eaves of the loft, arms outstretched, cursing and cussing while fixing the bodged job my boiler man did leaving us again with no heat or hot water. For others, it's a dogs life.

Six weeks and no running. But...