He says that a study of marathon runners showed that those who had sex the night before ran an average 5 minutes faster than the others, but more studies needed before a link can be clearly established. Consider volunteering. He says no need to carb load unless doing more than 21k, and on the day bland carbs the best. Eat a bowl of cold rice for breakfast.
He says visualise the race, tell yourself how well it's going to go, be light and happy and humorous. He says (largely) forget the heart rate monitor, the stopwatch and go with your subconscious central governor: it knows what it's doing. He says ignore other runners, the trees, the sky, Big Ears etc, and focus inwards on your own wonderful machine.
He says the greatest error by novices is to go too fast at the start: aim to do the second half faster than the first, with the ideal to keep a constant pace throughout.
You can see how good he is.
Angus winds his long Scottish legs into my little Peugeot and we steam off to Docklands, weaving artfully through the streets, ignoring other cars, speed limits, traffic lights, Big Ears etc. Someone with a considerable sense of humour has introduced a maze of diversions and road closures through 7/8 of the points of the compass around Excel, that vast 21st century cathedral to commerce, so we are a little late in meeting Laura and Mark. They don't seem to mind at all. They work for Fairbridge of course.
There are thousands of people there, mostly looking mean and scrawny and as if they do this stuff daily. It's all very technical, and there is a shopping area which is called OCD Heaven, or if not it should be. I can't quite engage and buy the FT from the shop around the corner.
Angus looking mean and scrawny (2007)
It is 10.30, an hour to go...
(End of Part One)
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