Saturday 20 September 2008

The Stockholm marathon.

I'm doing the Stockholm marathon next year, on my 40th birthday.

Mad, eh?

This is what 
says about it:

"Stockholm is an unusual marathon. It challenges your preconceptions both of Scandinavia and of marathon running. It starts at 2pm on a Saturday afternoon in early June, when the weather is warm and balmy and the city is full of loud, boisterous crowds. By the standards of London or New York, it's a small race, but it doesn't lack atmosphere - with healthy crowds throughout much of the two-lap, city-centre course. The race is designed to highlight the city's wonderful location on the shores of the Baltic, and to demonstrate the friendliness and efficiency of the Swedes. It's not a particularly fast race, but Stockholm in June is a big consolation.

The course: Two almost-identical loops, starting outside the 1912 Olympic Stadium and finishing on the track inside. There are large, flat sections of the course but enough undulations, particularly on the loop around Djurgarden and the various bridges, to break your rhythm.
 
Highs: Finishing on the track inside the 1912 Olympic Stadium. 

Lows: Passing the kilometre markers on the first lap, knowing you have to run 21km before you see them again.

Watch out for: The crossing of the Vesterbron at 35km. The bridge is only a 90ft climb, but it feels worse the second time around. 

Size: 12,000+ 
Month: June"



If you've never heard of the Stockholm marathon before, don't frown about it. I hadn't either. To be honest I wouldn't even be doing this if it weren't for the fact that it takes place on my 40th birthday. 

I would, however be doing a marathon somewhere or other at some point soon. For a few reasons.

At the end of March a dear friend of mine was killed in a hit and run (though the driver did come clean, he did the right thing in the end), at the age of 42. His name was Ollie Nicholls and he was simply one of the best men I've ever met.

He was the keyboard player in Sevenscore, my band, and he was an extremely gifted songwriter, performer and producer in his own right.

Most importantly, he was my friend, and losing him was hard to bear.

In the days that followed his death, aside from fruitlessly kicking the crap out of a shoestand and yelling insults and threats to the darkness that took him so soon, I vowed, if that's not too poncey a word, that I would do something to remember him by, even if only, solely, for my benefit.

So I had the idea of running the London marathon - figuring if Ollie could run 13 miles every morning despite, at least in my witness, some impressive assaults on innumerable (I never counted, but you don't when you think there'll be more than enough time to reciprocate) bottles of white wine the night before, then I must be able to pull out just one ludicrous bit of jogging (and then go up the Nash and get utterly spannered, of course).

Of course, if Ollie were still around he could probably set me straight on that. I'm sure he'd be very gentle about it, but would nevertheless leave me a little more educated in the whole running thing and less inclined to take it lightly.

But Ollie is not still around. I have to make up the stuff he might say and probably get it wrong.

Anyway, here's the plan...

As I write this there's just a little over 252 days to go to the big run, and I figure it might help me rationalise the whole daft enterprise to chronicle it all 'online' (apostrophes courtesy of my dad). So that's what I'm going to try to do. This, for crying out loud, is my blog. My marathon blog. My wittering on about bugger-all blog.

You mustn't expect much from it, though, at least not for a while. I've generously, I think, allowed myself till the 13th of January before I have to start (risk?) training, though I'm sure I could spratch a little longer if circumstances got in the way.

Right, it's late and I'm tired. I'm not going to bother with reading and attenuating what I just wrote. I'm going to bed. In Ripon, of all places.

Come back soon. 

:o)

No comments: