London Marathon - 17 April 2005
Announcing yet another tour - 20 September 2004
Dear All
Such has been the clamour for another series of "Honneyontour" emails that I feel obliged to listen to your requests and satisfy my public. And this time; you can also be a part of the experience.
I am off again on 17 April 2005 leaving around 9am. In fact, if all goes well, I should be home just before tea time. I am down to run the London Marathon, although I suspect that in reality my interpretation of the term running will be a little different to that of the eventual winner.
Ohhh that running 26.2 miles as an amputee was the full extent of the challenge. The real hurdles are those posed by my knees, left ankle and hamstrings in training, let alone on the race day itself. I have no other target beyond finishing the bloody thing in one piece in a time approaching "sometime eventually" and before the bloke who takes a week to run it in the deep sea diver’s suit. Trust me, if you are going to turn up on the day or watch it on TV, you can have a lay in until noon.
Of more shock I suspect, is the admission that I have actually been training for a while now. Before most of my previous trips it’s the departure lounge where I suddenly galvanise myself into action, but this time I have been slowly working away at it. I have recently run through the 10km barrier, albeit that this was on a running machine which is only marginally more useful then having completed 10km on a Nintendo game.
Still, it’s in the right direction and of more importance, no problems. We now move on to the next target of 20km which sounds nothing when you're merely typing it. Soon I will have to take to the road and that is where the problems are likely to start, as the pounding on my legs will be the make or break of this madness.
Anyway, what's your involvement? Well by telling the world and his wife, its puts a bit of pressure on me to push on. The other factor is that I am running for a charity called Whizz Kidz (see below) and you will be glad to hear that I have you ear-marked for a good few quid! And we will not be fussy, dollars, euros, pesos the lot will be accepted.
Right as there will not be an awful lot to report beyond running, pain, flat smells a wash house with kit drying etc, I will let you know how I am going at the 20km stage, as the begging bowl sympathy plan cranks up.
Finally, if you’re interested in running and seeing what my charity mob are all about, try their website on www.whizz-kidz.org.uk
Cheers
JH
Pushing on - 20 December 2004
Dear Amigos
Well I said I would get back to you when I "sprinted" through the 20km mark and well, I am just under 5 weeks late in bringing the news to you.
One autumnal Sunday at the end of October, I started running and a la Forest Gump, I kept going and going at a gentle plod and by the end of the stint, I had got up to the dizzy heights of 21.5km. Yeah I know; the last 1.5 km is just showing off!!
We’re still on the treadmill I am afraid, as the process of transferring my efforts to the road are still causing me a few jitters. The knees and hamstrings are holding up but the skin on the leg is a bit "Falluja" at the moment. In other words, it’s a complete mess down there. Indeed, 5 weeks on, it has yet to heal properly. This is a slight concern and with the need to start pounding the streets, I suspect its going to be a case of grinning through it all.
The reason for the delay in updating you is due to the fact that one afternoon a few months ago, the boss walks in to announce as he perceived it, the bad news that the London office is to close and unless I was prepared to move back north, then redundancy loomed. The look on my face indicated that this was not as earth shattering for me as he may have wished and without a moments hesitation and like a happy contestant on Bullseye, I grabbed the money and buggered off to Cuba, where this ditty comes from....some things never change.
However, the few weeks here have been spent mountain biking around the country in the often blistering heat. I jumped on to this tour as I thought it a good way to keep fit and in essence it would have been, but for the fact that the après-biking has been as arduous as the cycling. So whilst I have developed legs with the power of a Bangkok rickshaw rider, I am in urgent need of detox due to my sheer determination to be the last man out the bar every night and thus, show the younger pups a thing or two.
That said, a bug which hit me first and worked its way through the group, sidelined me for two days and a diet of water and rehydration packs meant that when I did get back on the bike, I was flying. Clearly Lance Armstrong never won the Tour de France 6 times by drinking a bucket of ale and leaving the bar at 3am every night and thus, the decision has been taken that after New Years Eve, one will be on the wagon until the finish line in April.
Cuba is a wonderful place and I have been trying to extend my time here. Alas, the flights home are full, as I suspect many are coming here before the inevitable changes post-Fidel comes along. No adverts, no McDonalds and no feelings of being unsafe make this a unique place. Che is everywhere and the locals are a fair bunch. They may have nothing and their country needs more than a lick of paint, but what the hell when a bottle of rum is a couple of dollars.
Unable to extend my stay and armed with redundancy cash, I apportioned a fair whack of my cash by Cuban standards to a night in the sumptuous Nacional Hotel. However, our Cuban guide invited me to his home for dinner with his wife and kids and with his neighbours popping in at will and me chatting away in my mix of Español and English (Spanglish) I don´t think I could have had a more enjoyable evening.
That said, however, the taxi home was an experience that warranted a few Hail Mary’s before getting in the machine. They don’t have windows in the motors for fear of death by petrol fumes and it seems that brakes, like sensible driving, are discretionary. As someone who only drives automatics, gears are alien to me but I have learned to appreciate them a lot more in the last few weeks whilst peddling on my bike. The car’s gear shift system was a cacophony of noise and effort and when in place, it offered a unique rattling noise that suggested that at any moment, if the machine did not like fourth gear, it might just slip into reverse for the hell of it.
Yet as we continued, I grew in confidence in man and machine and as we came around the Plaza de la Revoluccion, with Che´s statue looking down, it seemed a perfect statement was made by the car which like Cuba itself, is a triumph of ingenuity over adversity. When I got out of the car, I felt the need to kiss the machine not so much out of relief, but because it and this country are but a few years away from as significant a change as the revolution in 1959 and I wanted to wish them well.
As the driver looked at this bizarre act from the mad Englishman, the little Lada and me both knew that we shared a common bond; we may have bits missing, we may be patched up with bits of metal here and there, we have both been defying common sense and logic for years and whilst it will take him and I longer to get where we are going to, come what may, we will plod on.
More news at the 30km mark and I will soon start sending out the begging bowl. I have, with the help of those kind people at justgiving.com set up a website for those abroad and for those whom pay to Gordon Brown’s coffers, tax and sponsorship forms in due course.
Happy Christmas and best wishes for 2005.
Cheers
JH
Back on Track - 13 March 2005
Dear All,
Well, there is nothing more to do beyond picking up my race number (No 48656) and spending the rest of the week eating pasta in copious amounts.
My training is now over after this morning's 5 mile run. And with it I hopefully say adios to early runs/walks, setting off at 6am and then laying in a cold bath to prevent stiffness and cramp setting in upon my return. I wanted to do more, but the reality is that the very best I have been able to muster out of these tired and battered legs, has been a mere 57 miles since the end of October last year.
I have kept it all ticking over with walking as much as possible, but whatever happens next Sunday, win, lose or draw, I could ask no more of myself. But then again, going into major examinations woefully under-prepared will not be an unusual state of affairs for me. If anything, leaving an element of "blagging-it" on the day is right up my alley.
26.2 miles is along way as I am about to find out. But when I finally decided to go for it, the distance did not seem too much of a burden. It was in a pub called the Cross Keys in Cuzco, Peru in early July 2002. I was in beer fuelled conversation, with a few recipients of these emails, about the Inca Trail. Due to a lack of fitness, knees and oxygen several thousand feet above sea level, I had to duck out of attempting the Trail and it was at that point that I decided to have a go upon my return to the UK. What had led me to want to do ‘something’ was the inspiration derived from seeing my Mother’s cousin who has worked tirelessly for the poor in Peru. At times, I have wondered why I decided on running but hey-ho!
To be honest, when I started off in January 2003 I never thought I would get this far, convinced the knees would be the first to go along with everything else in turn. But all-in-all, despite the problems, we've kept in motion and whilst much is out of my hands now, I am as fit as I have ever been and eager to get going.
Of course, it would not be me if there were no last minute problems. After the last 16 miler, I started to have problems with the right groin and sciatic muscles. After a week or so, they showed no signs of improving. So, with all haste, I went to see the latest member of Team Honney, Chris the South African physio and veteran of 25 marathons.
He quickly diagnosed that the pelvic area was a mess and that the right part of the pelvis was out by an inch. His angle for dealing with the potential "Hurdle of the Girdle" was to literally manhandle the thing back into place. As is a recurring theme in my training, I was ordered to rest up and I have to wear a pelvic belt to quote Chris "To stop the bloody thing going AWOL on the big day!" Strangely reassuring you'll agree.
I had done a little sprint training, just in case it came down to a mad dash up the Mall with my 2 main rivals for first place, Evans Rutto (last year's winner) and Haile Gebrselassie (the greatest long distance runner of his generation). But the wusses have pulled out due to a twang of a hamstring or something. With them gone and in view of my pelvis and other leg issues, I think I will take it easy on the day.
Ok folks, firstly I would like to thank all those who have coughed up already and of course, to the rest of you coming over the hills with your sponsor money in due course. And also, for all your messages of support, all of which are very much appreciated.
Those outside the UK and those wishing to follow fund raising progress can do so via www.justgiving.com/cheersjh Those sending me cheques, made payable to Whizz Kidz with the gift aid forms, can do so at 2 Grenville House, Dolphin Square, London. SW1V 3LP. As soon as possible.
Finally, those attending on the day, order me up a cold one and if I am running late, you'll forgive me.
Cheers
JH
It’s about the Bling (part 1) - 18 April 2005
Dear All,
There is at Chez Honney, a piece of jewelry that would be the envy of an east coast gangsta rapper and at his prime, Tom Jones would have been impressed with the medal you get for completing the Marathon.
That said I am not sure with what I am most impressed with, completing the marathon in as good as shape as I presently feel or, my post-race performance.
Although times are to be confirmed, I reckon I finished a little over 5 1/2 hours. I am sure it would have been quicker but for the need to stop, hug and chat to those that turned up and to whom I am truly grateful. I also took a little time coaxing a few people in slight distress that I came upon because that is very much the spirit of the day.
Speaking of spirits, my rehydration performance after the race featured 7 bottles of Mexican lager, 2 pints of Guinness, 2 glasses of vino, a vodka and orange, a glass of bubbles and in the chirpiest of form!! That is top going.
And what was the most amazing thing; there was not one scratch on the artificial leg and the left leg and pelvis, though feeling it now, worked wonders on the day. (Indeed, once this email is sent, I am off for a 2 mile walk to stretch them out...just what they need). And after the race the talk was of ‘just how fresh I had looked throughout the race’. To be fair, that was probably the booze kicking in.
Well guys, I can only describe it as a great day, despite the heat which scuppered a few runners, but for which I had prepared for. The crowds and cheering is just incredible and all I can say, despite everything you have to put in, it's worth every second on the day.
People what have we learned from all of this:
1. The power of porridge to start your day, it really is the way forward.
2. Never underestimate the power of walking. 10 miles strolled is the same distance covered if you run it.
3. When you need a leak, a wall will do fine.
4. If you're going to run it, wear suitable kit. As a paraded through the streets in my QPR top, the shouts of encouragement were incredible.
There will be a full match report to follow when the official times are out. Thanks again to everyone who came on the day, phoned, emailed and so forth.
Cheers
JH
www.justgiving.com/cheersjh or 2 Grenville House, Dolphin Square, London SW1V 3LP cheques made payable to Whizz Kidz
It's about the Bling (part 2) - 24 April 2005, London
Dear All,
Firstly, I want to start by thanking you all for the words of encouragement, advice and for the sponsor money starting to roll in. Especially big thanks to those that turned out on the day as well. Below is some info I would like you to read if you have yet to pay up because as ever, I am moving on again.
I think the one thing that impressed me most about my effort was the military precision, with which I ended up approaching the whole damn affair with. Leaving nothing to chance that could be controlled, reading and studying from a variety of sources...all of which is totally out of character has been the cornerstone of my successful day.
For example, I had read up about the benefits of "visualisation" as adopted by the successful England Rugby team of Sir Clive Woodward in 2003. Diet and hydration plans meant that from the off, my body had enough glycogen fuel on board to have done another lap and my physio had advised about preparing for the effects of heat which meant that when it got hot on the afternoon, Honney hardly noticed it.
But arguably, the best piece of advice came from my mate Cath Duggan the night before the race. Not known for her marathon experience, Cath's advice, though politically incorrect, was nonetheless effective, "Find the best looking girl and follow her!" And therefore, a large slice of thanks must go to Lou and Nicky for being a perfect match...twins as well.
The start is like the opening scenes from Saving Private Ryan. Tension building as we edge closer to the start and leaving the relatively safety of the landing crafts. And then the doors open and with it, the mad scramble on to the beach. I was at Red Start, but it could easily have been Omaha Beach all over again.
Tucking in close behind Lou and Nicky, the twins set a fair pace. I was aiming to do the first 10 miles in 2.5 hours, the fact I had reached the half way point inn that time frame underlines the benefits of Cath's wisdom. By this stage we had passed a priest administering holy water, a Pentecostal choir and a group of Hindu singers. I knew with God, Vishnu and the Preacher Man on my side, it was on.
I never experienced ‘the wall’ in training, but I did have a small ‘picket fence’ moment around the half way mark. I just could not keep up with Lou and Nicky at mile 13 miles and equally, on the other side of the same road those runners charging at miles 18-20 pass you at a hell of a rate of knots that does make you feel a little deflated. So, following Cath's advice, I honed in on new inspiration and ‘Bunny Girl’ seemed to be running around the same speed as me and though not technically as pert as the twins, she provided more than adequate focus.
By now I am at a pace that was comfortable and my only concern was the fact that the left leg was doing all the work. At mile 16 I had a pit stop to change the silicon socks. The St John's Ambulance guys are terrific and as soon as they see an ache, they pounce on you. I was trying to explain to the volunteer that I merely needed to change my leg in the back of the ambulance and that I was fine. Whilst inside the vehicle, I could her boss going a bit loopy with her because practice says runners should not be left on their own. "He said he' changing his leg." she explained. At which point the boss opens the ambulance doors, looks in and says "Blimey".
They record every piece of treatment administered on little sheets and I overhead the following: "What the hell shall we record him as?" The boss replied "Not sure, never had such a thing. I know, put him down as other".
Which just goes to prove the old saying, "If it ain't a hurt thing, it’s the other!"
The spirit on the day is great and knowing and feeling as fresh as I did, I helped a few other runners going through their own personal hell. Especially as I had always felt that it was going to be me. At mile 19 the left calf was beginning to struggle and as I ploughed up a hill, there were these two blonde physios on the side of the road, holding out baby oil and offering massages. Well, you know, if you meet a pretty girl going out on the town with a bottle of Johnson's, you'd be a mug not to stop and check it out.
Working on keeping the mind active so tiredness and negative karma would be banished, the sheer joy of finding that the mile marker I thought was 21 was in fact 22 gave a timely boost just before the important landmark I had placed great store in for the last 16 months, Big Ben.
It was the only part of the course that my training runs ran alongside and in the year before the race I had walked to and from work every day passing Big Ben, saying to myself: "Come what may, I will be here on 17 April". The plan being, hang in there and once I could see it, the only thing that was going to stop me was a sniper on a grassy knoll along the Embankment.
When I came up from Blackfriars Bridge and eventually caught sight of Big Ben, I freely confess that the tears rolled. It was at this point for the first time since July 2002 I allowed myself the indulgence of finally believing it was on. The other place where a tear was shed was at mile 8. A month to the day previously, some of us lost a good mate to cancer. Frank had a torrid time of it following the whole of his left leg being amputated just before Christmas.
After the New Year, the cancer returned and with it, a prognosis that Frank only had a few months to live. Just after he had got the news I popped into see him one Sunday night. "John I won't make your marathon" he said. Although you try and talk in the positive, we both knew he was right.
Frank, being Frank, he added: "Shame really, because I really want to be there and hurl abuse at you if you're letting us amputees down!" At miles 8, 15 and 18 Alison, Frank's wife, was heard to utter the unusual motivational chant to a runner of "Hurry up you fat lazy b.....d". No doubt, Frank would have been proud of her.
Well, apart from a slight twinge on the hamstring, ironically at Big Ben, I eventually caught up with Lou and Nicky and lamented the lack of baby oil at mile 24. The run down the Mall was just wonderful. I had managed to get 7 Grandstand tickets and there to cheer me over the line after an array of life sapping hugs; were my Mum, cousins and some friends.
A little enjoyment of the final moments before crossing the line and the job done inside 5 hours 37 minutes and 3 seconds. I had set myself a sensible target of 8 minutes per kilometer on the running machine and despite the pit stops and stops to chat to family and friends, slipping on a puddle of urine at 22 miles left by some other runner, the job was done at an even pace of 8mins, 2 seconds per kilometer...its all about preparation you see.
The relief is the first emotion and then everything else you can imagine follows. A week on, I remain on the same high. It is simply the very best day and I would really encourage any of you harbouring thoughts of running it, to just do it.
The Texas Embassy, Haymarket, London. The QPR posse and me having a few
isotonic beers a few hours after the 2005 London marathon
The question asked since, is will I run another? Well when I finally called time on playing football, it was a cold, wet night in February 1999 on at the footy pitches called The Pitz in Manchester. The knees were gone and the pain had overtaken the joy of playing and I sloped off very down. Sunday last was a great day in the sun and with everything holding together, I just don't think you could top it and the mission accomplished was done so on a high. And maybe, it is best to leave on that note.
SPONSOR MONEY - as some of you already know, I am off again. Seasoned observers will have noted that following any sort of redundancy payment, London's travel agents start licking their lips. I am going from running 26.2 miles to walking the green mile. I will be spending 6 months working as a lawyer on a death row project in Atlanta. So we might as well make it another big trip on what is being termed the "Lap of Honour Tour 2005/6".
The alternative is to pay in via www.justgiving.com/cheersjh remains until 6 June 2005.
But the only words I want to end on is meager, because it just does not convey my sincere appreciation to you all. But it will do. "THANK YOU ONE AND ALL".
Cheers
JH |
