An Old Post Related to Training in San Diego

One from the past:

Sent: Wednesday, 21 November, 2007 6:56:39 PMSubject: More, More, More... 50 miles for charity
I did the old brutal running challenge thing (a few weeks ago now and I am nearly recovered) and many of you have sponsored me. Quite a few have not....which is ok if you don't want to. Not like I can make you or anything. I would just say 50 miles was pretty tough for a man of my advancing age and condition and it was for good causes, but it is up to you. However, quite a few people do want to (or so they have said) and have not. In fact, wherever I go (even sad, wet Hampden on Saturday (by the way good luck Northern Ireland and England tonight)) someone says "oh I must give you something for your running". When it was the doctor I started to get worried. Anyway now's the time, now's the hour. Your big chance to pay up. Next mail I may name and shame those who have promised but not delivered...but then again I won't really but I like sounding tough.
Cheques payable to "Orbis" or "Cancer Research" (you choose) can be sent to me at Paul Hastings 10 Bishops Square Eighth Floor London E1 6EG;
or donate through these pages www.orbis.org.uk/KeithWilson or http://www.justgiving.com/keith50miles2007
if the hyperlinks don't work by clicking on them then copy and paste them into your browser or ask a younger person for help.
I reckon that if everyone who has said they will does then we will top £7000 (and that is before my fine and generous partner Jon Simpson (i/c charity budget) decides the handsome Paul Hastings donation). To those who have, many thanks. To those who have not yet, thanks in anticipation.
Some of you like some chat. Here is one I started a couple of week ago (and there is another one (the "spiked one") that I deemed unsuitable for publication under the Paul Hastings name - but I may be prepared to share it from my home email if personally requested by email with evidence of a charitable donation and a disclaimer (ever the lawyer).
The Great North Run, the final piece in the jigsaw of 50 miles, was relatively uneventful for me. It involved a lot of running - about 13.1 miles worth to be precise, a mars bar from the nice lady in the Cancer Research tent, a quick change between two buses and then a peaceful train journey back to Stevenage where my car had not been stolen. So I am not going to write about running. Instead I will write about not running. For 4 blissful weeks after completing the challenge I did not run at all. Not even a little bit. Not even in New York with my hotel close to Central Park (but I think that may have been to do with finally sorting out the main work issues confronting us with one of my San Francisco partners over a bottle of whisky until after 2am that morning. Trouble with the solutions you find in those clear thinking moments is that they are like leprechauns gold - gone in the morning. As was the volition to move, let alone run). Not running beat running hands down during those weeks.
And they were busy weeks. In the US 3 times in 4 weeks, Central Europe and Scotland once each, making presentations at 3 UK conferences or seminars, staggering through a bevy of client entertainment functions and generally working hard and adding more padding (to my midriff, not the bills, for the benefit of any client who has continued to read this far). For the last of the US trips my family tagged along, presumably to make sure I was not one of those guys with a second parallel family life in the US. Having the family around meant things started to return to normal. Breakfast...with Goofy (no, not me, the cartoon character); upside down on rollercoasters with Shona screaming (she was holding the bags at the side watching her family hurtling past but everyone's threshold is different); watching performing whales while close by large tracts of land were in flames [this was the time of the San Diego fires]. It was indeed surreal. I needed relief and so finally out came the faithful traveling companions, the running shoes. The Wilson running shoe motto: "Go everywhere; hide in the bag". But not this time. Turns out my 7 year old daughter has a disconcerting running style - all out sprint for up to 200 yards and then a slouching stroll for about the same then off again like a rocket with no warning. Once my early morning back had loosened this seemed quite a good arrangement. A few of our companions on the path had masks on - the fires had been close a few days before - but the air quality was as good as London (perhaps not the optimum test) yet you could still see their eyes bulging with surprise at the approaching lurching hulk and his young sprinting companion. My daughter would have gone on forever but this was a holiday and so there was a strict timetable to be kept to. We headed towards our breakfast appointment - not the cartoon Goofy this time and I reflected that I only managed 4 weeks of not running before I started running again. Maybe next year I could be sponsored for not running 50 miles? Actually distance is no object - I am prepared to be sponsored for not running 100 miles next year.
This running thing may well be a family thing. My brother is doing the Great North Run with me next year - only thing is he does not know yet - so don't tell him will you?
FINAL APPEAL: please donate to these good causes so I can stop sending the emails...

Keith