Welcome back me.

Well it's been a few years since I've blogged and seeing as I've found myself back at my brother's place in Hove, in front of the same old desk, I thought I'd see if anyone noticed if I revisitied ThoughtsOfMouldy. Leave a comment if you do notice.

So I'm not going to list what has changed - that will become apparant as I write.

So here goes...

Yesterday, I ran the Hastings Half Marathon for the second time and improved by about 11 minutes. I'm amazed with myself and really chuffed. It was also my fastest and most enjoyable half marathon yet. I actually felt like I had some control over the way I performed, like it was more than an endurance event. It was a race, there were tactics and a plan that I formulated and stuck to and it paid off. It was a brilliant experience and I don't even feel that rough today.

So now, I'm taking on my biggest challenge yet; a marathone. The Loch Ness marathone in October to be precise. So I'm going to have to build on that planning skill and stick to a whole new agenda.

Wish me luck.

Tomorrow Belongs To Me

I've reached a pinacle of sorts. Last night I ran a personal best at the Worthing 10K. My time of 51 minutes 39 seconds represents an imporvement of around 6 minutes from my first race back in November.

Whilst this is great, and the comments and support from my friends and colleagues have really pleased me, what yesterday showed me was how much personal satisfaction I was getting out of it. I saw for a minute a realistic goal and saw too how to get there.

Running is great because it's so methodical. You run more and you improve. And as you improve you get fitter and thinner. Plus, I've found that my attitude to the "bad things" has changed too. I don't fry ups and burgers now because I can clearly see that they have a negative impact on the running.

I still think I need to change more but its going well. Who would've thought it?

Does the body rule the mind?

Sunday 15th April, 10am.

Arundel Park 10K, Arundel West, Sussex.

Kilometre 5.

A fat, northern, homosexual struggles up a ridiculously steep hill. He slows to a snail's pace, and eventually gives in to a walk, gasping for air likes he's underwater. Its too much. The one thing he aimed to do (not stop running) has proved too much and he feels like a failure.

He hates himself. He hates everyone he knows. He hates everyone he has ever met and especailly all those people around him, passing him, all of them seemingly older and fatter and yet with much more energy than him. Much more desire to carry on.

He regrets every burger, every third helping, every pint and, most of all, every cigarette. He declares war on it all! Especailly the fat, The Fat's days are numbered. It's on its way out.