Ankle

Media The Maze Runner

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Cute + Fluffy

Requested 

Anonymous asked: I was just wondering if you’d write a fluff imagine about Newt? An idea that I had was you trip and fall within the Glade and Newt refused to leave your side until the injury gets better.

I sighed as I headed back from my little break in the shade of the deadheads heading back to the edge of the gardens where the usual boys worked but I went to the edge where a few of the bulker boys stood as we had received the plans from gally and zart on what trees needed to be chopped for the new garden shed to be built both for the wood and for the space I high fived with Oscar as it was now his turn for a break and I headed up the ladder machete in hand to work on chopping down the top branches of the tree working for a good while until I heard a familiar voice "What the bloody hell is going on here!" Newt yelled as he approached arms crossed and face stern "What?" Frank asked him as he gathered the branches I cut "Hi newtie!" I giggled waving down to him "Hi love" He waves "What is she doing up there I thought we had a rule about that" "She's fine newt she's safe" "Doesn't matter if you think she's safe she's not meant to be up there" "I'm fine seriously' I complained "I'm fine newt really" "I know you think that. But just come down alright" "No! I'm doing my work I'm fine!" "Y/n. -" "Newt I'm fine. I'm perfectly safe" i tol them as i continues to cut  branches down "I am a strong independent woman, I don't need you boys to babysit me I can do just fine on-" I began but I heard a rather concerning snap and next thing I knew my body ached all over and I was looking up at the blue sky, with newt and Frank looming over me "owww." "Run and get Clint and Jeff now!" Newt ordered

I sat in the medjacks my body wrapped up from the various cuts and bruises from my fall my leg elevated on pillows as they checked it over for the fourth time Alby loomed over the med jack's as they worked and newt sat beside me he hadn't left since my fall not even for a moment "yep that's definitely broken, we can bandage it up with a splint but you are going to have to keep off it for atleast the rest of the month" "That's ridiculous! It's not broken I probably just brusied it bad i-" I began trying to get up but the pain shot thought my ankle "owww!" "No no. Your going to be on bed rest until your ankles better" newt told me making me sit back in the bed "if it's okay with Alby, I'm more then happy to look after you personally," "Alright" Alby shrugs "Okay, so Jeff will sort this out and we'll get you up to your room to rest, and I'll take care of you till your better"

"Morning" newt smiled as he arrived to my room "Morning" I sighed "I brought you breakfast, and I made sure to grab you some extra bacon" he smiled sitting beside my bed "how's your ankle?' "In agony" "Aww you poor thing love, anything I could do to help? Give you a message? A hug? Maybe try and get you some moonshine?" "No it's fine you've done enough newt" "You sure? Nothing you want?" "I am really bored. Could you tell me glade stories?" "Aww of course I can, you wanna cuddle while I tell them?" "Special cuddle?" "As your hurt I'll allow it" I smiled and we readjusted ourselves so I could have my head on his lap and he gently pettes my hair as he told me about the news of the glade who pissed off who, what the drama in the kitchens was, who Alby yelled at, all the normal glader gossip I had missed being up here" "Newt?" "Yeah?" "Thank you for taking care of me" "It's no trouble love. I know how much you took care of me when I was hurt I have to make sure I return the favour"

A right pain in the groin!

It was all medical stuff this week. I started on Monday in Harley Street with the psychologist, sadly not a sports psychologist, telling me to ‘Smash that wall’ and that this was part of my ongoing anxiety and depression. I sat there opening my heart about worries that I guess most people would just shrug off.

I mentioned in my last Blog that I’ve had pain in my groin/lower abs for some weeks when I turn over in bed or try to sit up. This has gradually worsened and I have started to feel it at the beginning of a run too. I rested for a week and had no pain, so thought I would try a run. Phew, 40 mins nice and easy with no pain whatsoever - hurrah. That night, however, I was woke a number of times with pain when I turned over, arghhh!

An ultrasound for an unrelated issue six months ago revealed I had a hernia - but it was not causing me any pain at that time.... could this be the problem? I  got a referral from my GP then spoke to the brilliant team at Citi Bupa Helpline  who they authorised a consultation. 

I contacted a sports doctor I last saw at London Bridge Hospital 23 years ago in 1994 - Mr Stephen Motto BM FFSEM(UK) DipMedAc D MN-S med DipSportsMed 2006 Fellow of the Faculty of Sports and Exercise Medicine UK -  could the good doctor come to my rescue again? 

So, on Friday 3 February 2017, with just eight weeks to go until the Brighton Marathon, I was laying on Mr Motto’s couch in a state of undress while he palpated my groin, eek! It’s weird; the pain is so acute, 6-8 out of 10 with stomach muscle use, yet trying to put my finger on it is almost impossible as it moves from under the Illium across to the navel and down to the Pubis. 

Those of you who know me and my love for anything sports medicine would be surprised to hear it was all a bit of a blur while he was talking to me - “....Gilmores Groin, Osteitis Pubis, Sports Hernia, Pubalgia....”. It wasn't so much the names of the injuries, as they’re all documented in my favourite books, it was just the worry of where this leaves me and mikethemod. 

Unfortunately the doc was unable to give me a definitive answer without some pictures of my insides. So on Tuesday 5 Feb 2017 I am off to Harley Street for an ultrasound scan and then on Thursday 7 Feb 2017 I am back to London Bridge Hospital for an MRI. The doc did say I can keep up my cardio fitness by doing any exercise that does not cause pain - so it looks like I will be returning to The Walnuts in Orpington armed with my aqua jog belt to see what happens, or I can try the bikes in their gym.

Thursday was track night and a very wintry night it was too; exceptionally strong winds coupled with that horrible fine rain that gets in everywhere. The session was 3x1600m and I thought that sounded very boring and very lonely if the weather was meant to be so yucky. So, by the time we got to the track I had decided on 3 x 7min hard running with enough rest time to get everyone back to the start. This meant that, even though we have a wide spread of athletic abilities, everyone had the opportunity to start on the start line as one and we could all finish at the same time. 

I changed the last 7 min to 3 min 30 secs running round the track in one direction and 3 min 30 sec running back. This ensured all the athletes got back to me at roughly the same time and in the last metres they all had someone to race. As the rain lashed down, I thought they were all hating it. At the end of the session I apologised for the weather (yes, of course it was my fault) and Moy replied with “I loved it, I felt like a real runner”.... music to my soggy cold ears :-)

This Petts Wood team have run away with a league title after a remarkable season

Running club Petts Wood Runners has won the 2018/19 Kent Fitness League (KFL) cross-country series with a race to spare. from This Is Local London | News https://www.thisislocallondon.co.uk/news/17399524.petts-wood-runners-win-kent-fitness-league-cross-country-series/?ref=rss

This Petts Wood team have run away with a league title after a remarkable season

Running club Petts Wood Runners has won the 2018/19 Kent Fitness League (KFL) cross-country series with a race to spare. from This Is Local London | News https://www.thisislocallondon.co.uk/news/17399524.petts-wood-runners-win-kent-fitness-league-cross-country-series/?ref=rss

Mikethemod’s Brighton Marathon Prep.

Saturday was the highlight of my week. Our best friends Debbie and Andy Harris, AKA Bootleg Blondie, decided they were going to take Dawn and me, AKA mikethemod, on film location in Brighton. I didn’t have the heart to tell them about my potential hernia as I knew they were looking forward to our day out!

When we got up at 7am on Saturday it was raining so Dawn gave me grief about her hair going curly. And it was still raining when Deb and Andy arrived at 10am in the Bootleg Blondie Van. This is a real Rock n Roll van divided into two sections - half for band members to travel in (famous musicians have signed the interior walls) - and the other half to transport whatever.

It was then that we discovered the scooter wouldn’t fit in the back of the van. This wasn’t a good start. As I stood there looking helpless Andy came to the rescue by producing a large leather bag of tools from nowhere and sent me into my garage to search for some wing nuts. It was a scene that many real scooterists - including myself - have endured far too many times; we were both kneeling on the wet road in the pouring rain trying to undo bolts that were stuck fast.

Half an hour later we were sorted, phew, and the four of us, plus a dismantled leg-powered Lambretta, were finally en route to Brighton. Our first stop was Preston Park. This is where the masses start the Brighton Marathon race and is also the home of the famous Steve Ovett statue - or so I thought.

At this point I need to backtrack a little…. last year a PWR colleague told me he was on the Elite Start, at Withdean Park on the London Road, as he had run a good time in the Boston Marathon. I ran the Phoenix AC relays many years ago (Steve Ovett was on the same start line) – and I remembered that Withdean Park was flat. This appealed.

I wrote a polite email to the organisers telling them my best half-marathon time and asked if I could be on the Elite Start with my training friend. By the time I attended the Brighton Expo with Dawn to collect my number, I had been accepted on the Elite Start. Yes. We had a celebratory veggie lunch afterwards at Terre Terre.

Back to the present….. Andy skillfully manoeuvred his van along a narrow road up the side of Preston Park but I couldn’t see the statue of my hero Steve Ovett. A hasty Google informed us poor Steve had been cut down and stolen 10 years ago in 2007. Is nothing sacred?! Then we read that Steve had been remade (hurray!) and unveiled in 2012 on Madeira Drive by the Brighton Marathon Finish line - and the Volks Bar, home to any journeying Scooterist - double delight. Andy reset the Satnav and we soon got our first glimpse of the sea.

Our second stop was the loos on Madeira Drive. These are always well looked after but bloody freezing. Last time I was there I couldn’t climb off my scooter quick enough - after two hours spent clinging onto my 50 year old Lambretta I severely regretted wearing button fly Levis 501s.

Loo stop completed, our third stop was a parking bay where we deposited more coins than the Hatton Garden raiders lifted, to pay for just one hour’s parking. And there, in fine fettle and surveying the open sea, was my man Steve Ovett. His majestic running style was perfectly captured; big chest, arms barrelling round, hands soft and relaxed.

 Dawn and Debbie were our costume and film crew and Andy was our Director. Cue - photo of mikethemod in Parka and Tootal scarf with Steve, photo of mikethemod in Teenage Cancer Trust Mod-style cycling shirt with Steve, photo of mikethemod in Demelza Hospice Care for Children Mod-style cycling shirt with Steve. Action - film of mikethemod in Parka running up and down, film of mikethemod in Teenage Cancer Trust Mod-style cycling shirt, etc etc, …..you get the drift.

During filming a guy in a disability car drove along the road and gave us a wave. This was an opportunity too good miss. With the Director waving his arms around, Mikethemod sprung into action and a Benny Hill-style epic was in the bag. Oh yes.

 Our fourth stop was near the 7-mile point on the Brighton Marathon course, offering stunning views over the cliffs. With the sun glinting off the English Channel, Director Andy and I immediately had the same idea and Mikethemod - in his various  guises - was soon running east and west along the cliff edge with the wind blowing, the sea breaking below and the Who’s ‘I’ve had enough’ playing in our heads.

After all this emotion, mikethemod, the film crew and the Director were in need of a restorative cuppa. On the road leading back into Brighton we discovered a 50s-looking café above the Marina named the Roedean Café - what a jewel, our fifth stop. With fantastic views over Brighton Marina and some delicious-looking food being served to locals, we enjoyed three perfect latte coffees and one Earl Grey tea.

Sixth stop the beach. I just couldn’t help myself. Marching over the stones carrying my polystyrene Lambretta, I went right to the sea’s edge and sat down. Wrapped in my Parka, I was ‘Jimmy’. The film crew got to work and took some impressive shots with Brighton Pier as our backdrop. After a few more photos at the front of the pier and by two Blondie-esque red telephone boxes, we were back in the van heading to our seventh stop - the Grand Hotel.

Andy parked up on the seafront and I ran over to the hotel to explain that mikethemod was fundraising for Teenage Cancer Trust and Demelza and we would like to take some photos outside the Grand Hotel. The Concierge Team could not have been more helpful. They allowed us to park our van right on the hotel forecourt and their fantastically professional Concierge ‘Paf’ - complete with top hat and tailcoat - ensured we got some great pics. I did think it was funny that one of the team said he never knew why some people walked past the hotel shouting ‘Bell Boy’! I advised him to go straight home and watch Sting in Quadrophenia.

By now we were tired and hungry (mainly me) but we had two more stops to go. In fact we stumbled across our eighth stop while looking for a parking place in or around ‘The Lanes’. Andy stopped the van to let a car pass and beside me to my left was a tiny lane disappearing behind a shop. “That’s it” I said - East Street’s Alleyway where Jimmy ‘hid’ with Steph (Leslie Ash) as the fighting Mods and Rockers were chased by the police. Jimmy and Steph actually did a little bit more than just hiding in this alley.

Andy put the hazards on, Dawn guarded the van on a yellow line and we quickly ran down the alley. In a tiny corner there was a door covered in scooter club stickers and mod patches. Hilarious - someone had scrawled ‘mikethemod’ on the wall! I am a celeb you know. We had a laugh taking pics in various poses and then dashed back to the van.

Ninth stop - the Mod shop Jump The Gun in the North Lanes. I had been there some months before to tell them about my project but got short shrift. Unfortunately they weren’t enamoured to see us again and, despite mikethemod and his scooter drawing a small crowd outside their shop, all they could do was tell us we were in the way of the door.

Tenth and last stop - fish and chips. The Palm Court restaurant on Brighton Pier is one of the town’s quality food venues. A year ago I booked tables for 50 Petts Wood Runners after we ran the Brighton 10k and we were all impressed with the quality of the food served here.

With its location at the end of the pier offering fine views out to sea and along Brighton’s coast, you may expect the Palm Court to rest on its laurels and be an expensive low-quality tourist trap. It most definitely isn’t. Dawn had a perfectly-baked salmon Debbie and Andy chose tasty vegetarian lasagnas and I went for the ‘Big Fish’, a 12oz cod loin - fantastic. Our food was fresh and hot, the service was friendly and efficient and the restaurant was smart and clean.

Outside the sun was now setting on the horizon and we watched a huge black mass of starlings dance over the sea in liquid formation. Although we were full, we couldn’t resist the aroma coming from the doughnut kiosk so we bought a bag of four piping hot sugar-covered doughnuts (I am carbo-loading you know) and ate them on the way back to the van. A great day. Now home to find out what goodies were captured inside our collection of cameras.

Track Thursday

Tonight we are marathon training at the athletics track in Norman Park in Bromley. This is my hour, the hour when I am at peace in my mind, the hour that flies by without a single unwanted thought or worry. My first ever visit to an athletics track was in 1976 at Erith, the home of Bexley Borough Athletic Club. Peter White was gliding silently and effortlessly over the cinder surface. I say effortlessly, but I soon came to realise he was actually hurting inside. Ever since that day I have had this love/hate relationship with the orange oval - love being there, hate the nerves before a race. Here is a photo of the early days, probably a Kent Colts and Boys League meeting with Blackheath Harriers, Bexley, Medway and Ashford. I’m no 1 on the inside lane, tucking into the pack.

Anyway back to marathon training. Tonight we will have about 40 Petts Wood Runners arriving between 7:30pm and 8pm. There will be much nervous chatter about what the evening session will have in store for them. Many of our group will not have not ventured onto a track since their school days - and, as they walk across the park towards the home straight, their initial thoughts may well be that they don’t want to go near one again. And this is because they will be watching the wonderful Britsh Olympic Finalist Sprinter Dinah Asher-Smith going through her paces under the eagle eye of coach John Blackie. His sprint group is second to none in this country, and boys and girls with very powerful physiques skate down the track.

At 8pm, as the Blackheath and Bromley National Cross Country Champion girls leave the track, we gather together by the finish line. During marathon prep we drop the running form drills and start the session with a 15 min tempo run. This is a run of 15 mins around the track at a pace the athletes find it just about comfortable to talk at. As each lap passes, I will call out either their equivalent 10k time or their marathon time. This is to ensure that every week they get to run at their own marathon pace at least once. A schoolboy/girl error would be to turn up on marathon race day and start off too fast! But no one does that do they?!!! 

We have a wide range of abilities, with Parkrun 5k times of 37 mins to 16 mins, so by the end of the 15 mins some will have run 10+ laps while others will be on lap 6. When the 15 min whistle blows to signal the end of the tempo run, the runners all make their way to the finish line to start the session. At this point they should feel very ready to train and not be bending over with their hands on their knees. Tonight’s session is 5x1k (2 1/2 laps of the track) with 90 secs recovery. The slower runners will do 5x800m. As the intervals are 2 1/2 laps long, the runners will stop at either the finish line or just before the last bend and the scene can then become a confusing blur of runners. I will stand and observe the running gait of those who pass me and I will amble around the inside of the track, in the opposite direction of the runners, giving them cues to improve their running efficiency. As the session continues the talking will subside, the faces will become drawn and the coughing and spluttering will become more ugly. The runners’ steps will become heavier - until they near me when, all of a sudden, they lighten again ;-).

As the session comes to a close, the runners will have their hands on their knees or they will be draped over the fences. Within 45 seconds, however, as we begin a collective cool-down stretch and Paul Whelan starts his one-man comedy act, smiles will return and everyone will start discussing the upcoming ‘Sunday long run’. Runners will then make their way back to the car park as the floodlights are switched off.

London Marathon: The Morning After

Ouch. I’m walking like I've lost my horse, my hands are covered in blisters, my arms and legs hate me and, despite a mass of lovely people telling me how proud I should feel, I can't help but feel low.

The London Marathon was much much harder than the Brighton Marathon - Having to carry Lambretta no 2 on my shoulders in London was far more difficult than pushing Lambretta no 1 around Brighton.

Ah, Brighton - I’ve not even told you about Brighton yet. Brighton was hot. Very very hot! Here is a video story of the Brighton Marathon as it’s not as fresh in my memory as the events of yesterday.

Back to the London Marathon. A schoolboy error meant I’d only concentrated on Lambretta no 1 for Brighton as I’d had so many injuries in the build up that I was convinced I would not be in a fit state to run the London Marathon at all.

In fact, prior to Brighton, I had managed only four four-mile runs between the beginning of February and race day on 9 April. And, after I’d completed Brighton, recovery time meant I didn’t actually put my running shoes on again until the morning of the London Marathon!

After filling myself with pasta for two days and promising myself an early night on London Marathon Eve, at 11:30pm I found myself sewing the straps that would secure the scooter to my shoulders! Tweet (timed at 23.17) exchanged with Demelza Hospice Care for Children:

So, after a restless night, London Marathon day had arrived. Two slices of toast and a cup of tea downed then we set off. Mrs Mikethemod dropped off me and Lambretta no 2, not forgetting inflatable pillion Modette, at Blackheath early in the morning. As I walked across the heath the scooter felt fine - a little unbalanced, but otherwise fine. I met up with my fellow PWRs for some photos. Not long to go now. Ok, Green Start here I come.

At precisely 10am we were off. When I crossed the start-line and began to run, I immediately realised this was going to be TOUGH. I could see a running tree, a running dinosaur and a running toilet roll disappearing into the distance, and here I was fighting to stop both the sideways and front-to-back movements of Lambretta no 2.

I stopped - which was a disaster as there were runners around and behind me, so already I had caused a small fracas. I tightened the straps, but it didn’t help much as Modette was weighing down the back and my headlight was pointing skywards.

Before I had even reached Woolwich (Mile 3), Modette had fallen off the back three times. The Petts Wood Runners water station at Mile 4 was timely and Paul Kelly helped me to Gorilla Tape her back into the seat. At this point I was already sweating up quite badly so I also needed to discard my Parka and leave it with my fellow PWRs.

Not a great start. To compensate for Modette’s weight at the back, I had to hold down the front end. I told myself I just had to make it to the Odd Mod Squad’s supporters in Greenwich so I could leave Modette with them - but I couldn’t see them in the sea of faces that greeted us as we sailed around the famous Tea Clipper Cutty Sark. My next thought was that maybe I should hang on to Modette for a while longer - just in case I was shown on the camera at the halfway mark on Tower Bridge.

At this point, I must tell you about Mr Bump. Mark Casella, friend and runner from my Bexley Athletic Club days who has since moved up north, promised me a donation of £50 if I had my photo taken with his northerner friend James Wright who was running as Mr Bump.

Now, there were FORTY THOUSAND runners in the London Marathon, so I’m sure that Mark thought his £50 was pretty safe! However… who did I Bump into as I approached Tower Bridge? Yes, you got it, none other than James Wright AKA Mr Bump. Amazing or what?!

After a quick and surprised exchange between us, Mr Bump made a sudden decision to dash ahead onto Tower Bridge to find Ore from the BBC to tell him about our promised donation. And, before we knew it, we were being beamed around the world!

Now, since my unexpected BBC Radio interview before the Brighton Marathon, I had imagined countless times what I would say if a similar scenario arose during the London Marathon. And this is the reason -

We have an ongoing and extremely upsetting situation with our oldest son and I wanted to plead right then, on live TV, for him to make contact with us.

But, as quickly as the opportunity arose, it had gone. I was overcome with sadness and I really started to struggle. That was probably my lowest point during the entire race.

Through the overwhelming fog in my head I spotted the Petts Wood Runners’ flag on the opposite side of the road on Tower Bridge. I had never been so grateful to see those friendly smiling faces. I thought I was becoming dizzy but they kindly reassured me that it was the movement of the bridge I was feeling.

I have no idea how I managed to collect my thoughts but I continued along Westway towards Canary Wharf. I ran in the centre of the road hoping to spot speedier fellow Petts Wood Runners making their way towards the finish, a good eight miles ahead of me. I saw Kevin Chadwick looking very focused and I gave him a shout, willing him on to his first sub three-hour finish (he came very close; three hours and three minutes).

As I reached the welcome haven of peace and quiet that is the underground roundabout at Canary Wharf, Mikethemod decided that he and his Modette should part company. I knew I wouldn’t finish the race with her misbehaving on the back. Plus, Lambretta no 2 was bending worryingly. I stopped in the half-darkness and we said our goodbyes. I took off her parka - that actually belonged to Mrs Mikethemod - and left Modette on top of a dumpster. I couldn’t quite bring myself to put her IN the bin!

I had filled Modette with helium but losing her made the scooter much lighter, so that was good. I then decided it would be of benefit to lose the weight of Mrs Mikethemod’s parka too. Sorry Dawn! The scooter was now balanced but I still couldn’t take my hands off the sides as it was whipping about from side-to-side with each step.

As I passed the Tooke Arms pub I got a massive Reevesie shout. I turned around and saw a group of supporters that included scootering face Bob Downs. It was such a shame they hadn’t got to meet the now discarded Modette!

By the time I reached Canary Wharf my hands were bleeding and my feet felt like I had stones in my shoes. The crowd noise was overwhelming and it was difficult for me to focus on faces.

Every water stop, gel stop and Lucozade stop was an excuse to, well - stop. At the next water stop was my lovely friend Christine Oliver. She gave me a big hug and I was slightly embarrassed that I was in such a sweaty state. Christine’s restorative hug could not have come at a better time.

As I left Canary Wharf, I knew I was heading for the finish line - at last. Every painful step was a step towards sitting down. It was here that I finally accepted refreshment. Throughout the entire course, children and adults alike had screamed encouragement while holding out all manner of sweets - from tiny hands holding a single jelly baby to adults offering large plastic bowls full of goodies.

I took a piece of orange. It was so fresh. Once I had taken one treat though, it was difficult to stop and at the next bowl I took a jelly snake, then a Haribo, then a milk bottle. Heaven. Just after that I was asked for a selfie with a woman running in an East Kilbride Scooter Club shirt… two fellow scooterists meeting in the middle of a marathon.

Then there were more hugs, this time from Julie and Tom Medhurst both telling me how proud I should feel - but all I wanted was for it to finish. Then an ex-colleague watching with his family gave me a big shout - thanks Keval.

Just as I was passing the Tower of London a girl in front of me looked like she was on the point of collapse. As I asked if she was ok, she said “Yes, have we finished?”, her legs gave way. I just managed to catch her and a marshal and a fellow runner rushed over to help. I hope you made it Vicki.

Next, the underpass near Blackfriars Bridge. This tunnel is another place of calm and relative quietness. Although for me, this was the point where I lost my headlight (painstakingly created by Mrs Mikethemod) AND my steering. Bloody Lambrettas!

As I made my way through the tunnel the beat of the music became progressively louder. Then I emerged into the sunlight and into an awesome cacophony of sound. It was astounding. It was the most exhilarating part of the race.  

I could hear cheering and, at the last second, glimpsed my brother, sisters, their partners and friends waving down at me from Waterloo Bridge. Fantastic! Just what I needed. My brother Paul told me afterwards that it was very emotional watching the runners’ expressions at the moment they exited the tunnel.

There were more emotional moments to come - meeting with PWRs Paul Whelan and Ian Noad who ran alongside me for a while and supported the scooter after seeing my legs ‘wobble’, then supporters Auntie Maureen, Uncle Phil and cousin Andrew with his wife Becky who are expecting twin boys in June. Then I saw PWR members Eadaoin Sacha and Nicola. And then my old friend John Askew at the Bexley Athletic Club water station at 25 miles. I hoped I would make it now.

In my head I was telling myself there’s only 1k to go, that’s just two and a half laps of the track. Simple enough but I was in agony and I slowed to a walk in Great George Street by the Institution of Civil Engineers (where our youngest son worked as Chef de Partie for a time).

Just then there was a roar from the Teenage Cancer Trust supporters outside their hospitality area. They were shouting “Go Mikethemod!”. This made me feel tearful. I knew that somewhere along this stretch were also the Demelza Hospice Care for Children supporters - but sadly I couldn’t see them. What I could see, however, was the 600 metres sign. C’mon, jog again. Walk again. Then the 200 metres sign. Phew.

Crossing that line was SUCH a relief. I’d made it.

I felt incredibly sick and my hands and lips were purple as I tried to find my fellow Petts Wood Runners. Then I couldn’t walk any more. I sat down then lay down on the grass at the side of The Mall. Every time I tried to stand up I thought I was going to be ill. I lay there for what seemed like ages.

Then my anxious sister phoned to ask me where I was. She sent her fiancé John to find me. He helped me, and what was left of Lambretta no 2, back to the rest of my family. My brother Paul accompanied me to Charing Cross Station then Mrs Mikethemod and youngest son Scott met us at Orpington Station. Me and my battle-scarred scooter were both carefully folded into the car and I was nearly home.

There was no time to sit down though, groan! A quick shower, a cursory assessment of my injuries, some clean clothes, my medal around my neck - and then I was gently encouraged back into the car and I was on my way to meet my lovely family for a post-marathon meal at the Harvester.

More celebratory hugs ensued, the biggest from my mum. And then - at last - FOOD. Never before had I felt such an overwhelming need to overdose on protein. A ‘Harvester 83 Combo’ sorted me out good and proper.

And, to finish off an utterly mind-blowing day, I got a text from my dad (who was in hospital post-op and sadly unable to be with us) saying how proud he was of me.

I had done it. Mikethemod, Two Marathons in Two Weeks.

Total raised so far: £8,439.05

www.virginmoneygiving.com/mikethemod

www.mikethemod.com

Below is a fabulous video made by Teenage Cancer Trust including mikethemod’s #ReasontoRun.

It’s All About You

10.21am Sunday 19 Feb 2017. My website homepage tells me it’s just 48 days 22 hours 52 mins until the start of the Brighton Marathon.

I shouldn’t be sitting here at my PC, I should still be in Tunbridge Wells at the half-marathon race - just like I have been every year for the last five years. Not running, but filming. It’s so great to feel part of the race, capturing on film the excitement on faces of club members in the middle of their marathon prep, overcoming what is quite a tough half-marathon and giving them a good indication that they are on track with their training.

I did go to watch the race, armed with two cameras, four SD cards and a handful of batteries. I positioned myself just after the water station at the three-mile mark. It wasn’t as cold as it has been other years and the lead runner was certainly on a charge, reaching me in 14min 52secs. I cheered every Petts Wood vest I saw, although there seemed to be fewer numbers than usual. I had forgotten that there were two other fixtures today - the Kent Fitness League in Fowlmead and a club Grand Prix in Greenwich. The longer I stood there the more heavy-hearted I became that I am currently unable to run.

I have not blogged for a while and that’s a failing on my part. I thought it would be a stream of good news stories about mikethemod achieving stuff... with scooter here, scooter there and scooter every-bloody-where. The truth is, I am watching runners complete more miles this morning than I have managed so far in the month of February. Three miles last Thursday left me doubled up in pain during the night, on 1 Feb I had managed six miles and on 2 Feb I had managed just three miles. So, instead of jumping in my car eager to catch cheers or tears on my film, as I did last year at the finish line, this time the tears were mine. After sitting there for a while to collect myself I made my way home.

So, here I am feeling sorry for myself cos I cannot train to run around a marathon course wrapped in fancy dress. Yet only three days ago I witnessed Dina Asher-Smith leave the track on crutches - after her last session before the Indoor Grand Prix - and the following morning she had tweeted “Comeback starts now. #EvenHungrier”. An impressively positive attitude from someone so young, after discovering she had fractured her foot in London World Championship year.

I’ve been talking a great story since end of Jan - ‘aquajog and bike’ - but running is the only thing that motivates me and it’s soooo difficult to drag myself to the gym. When I am able to run, I get away with eating lots (bit of a pig if the truth be told). Now, every day I tell myself the diet will start tomorrow. Yesterday was pasty, chips, coffee and a Snickers at lunchtime, a chicken shish, chips and can of Stella at dinnertime and then a jam scone and a cup of tea at bedtime….. comfort eating at 100 miles an hour.

 So, I’ve now turned to a golden nugget (no, not the breakfast cereal); a precious book of mine published in 1926 titled Athletics and written by Harold Abrahams, the main character in the Chariots of Fire film. Quote:

“Before an important race every athlete experiences (in varying degrees) that sinking feeling - just as if one’s stomach were taking a walk up to one’s mouth and leaving a vacuum behind it. The intensity of this emotion will of course vary with the temperament of the individual and the importance of the occasion. As the opportunity of failure and black failure presents itself, so will the feeling increase. If the person concerned has a great opinion of himself his qualms when contemplating his failure and his anticipation of making a fool of himself will be considerably greater than those of a man who realises that after all he is a very unimportant factor in the world.

All human beings like success - though some attach more significance to it than others. Most of us seek for position, for popularity for admiration of our fellow-men, and even the envy of those we defeat. There is nothing wrong in admitting this to ourselves, but the important thing is to acquire a proper scale of values and to avoid a craving for attention. For it is obvious that as the individual’s craving for attention and admiration increases, so fear of not getting them and of receiving blame instead of praise, scorn instead of approbation, increases too”.

So, Mr Harold Abrahams - apart from doubling my max dose of antidepressants - what can I do?

Quote: “How should this problem be tackled? First a man should try to realise that what is really of paramount importance is not the winning or losing of a race, but the amount of energy and effort he has put into training.”.

Initially, this made me feel despondent. Much of what Mr Abrahams said is true about me, although it’s not attention that I crave - it’s just to be liked. I’m currently unable to train so I’m feeling the palpable pressure of those who have sponsored me, those who have provided auction prizes, those who have spent time building or adjusting my scooter or those who have helped me with my social media. Right. I needed to get out and walk the dog. Clear my head. I wasn’t really sure where this blog was heading - apart from a self-character assassination.

As I was walking through the woods with our beloved chocolate Labrador Marlow, I started thinking about this morning’s race again. About 1,000 people, some running for themselves, some running for charity. While I had been standing there filming, a runner had shouted “Hey, Mike”. I hadn’t noticed him approaching me in the sea of vests and he wasn’t wearing a Petts Wood Runners vest. I had no idea what he was wearing, although an educated guess was a Maypole Project vest. This runner was Phillip Price who ran the entire length of the River Thames in two days last year (the equivalent of seven marathons) on behalf of The Maypole Project - a charity for children with life-threatening illness. I had met Phillip at one of the Project’s charity curry nights and managed to secure them a donation from Petts Wood Runners.

It was then that I remembered Phillip’s words: “When a parent hears the news that their child has a life-threatening or terminal illness their world falls apart. So when I was alone and running in the middle of nowhere, the one thing that kept me going was knowing the impact the funds I raise will have on the families supported by The Maypole Project.”.

That’s it.

I’ve become lost in the mikethemod thing, worrying about my injuries, worrying about my training, worrying I need more auction prizes for our Charity Music Quiz Night… worrying that I’m letting the charities down. All that is, of course, immaterial. The only thing that matters is the energy and effort I am putting in, (thank you Mr Abraham) in whatever way I can, to raise funds for Demelza and Teenage Cancer Trust - so these amazing charities can continue to support families and improve the quality of life of the children in their care. Please press that donate button now and help me to help them.  

www.virginmoneygiving.com/mikethemod

www.mikethemod.com

97 year old sprinter needs a rest!

My Strava feed is very busy. I have never seen such feverish activity amongst my fellow Petts Wood Runners to post the biggest monthly mileage! Marathon season has already gripped us - and yet it is only the end of January.

On Thursday morning I watched BBC Breakfast in bed with my cup of tea and saw an interview with Charles Eugster - a 97 year old World Record holding sprinter. The most interesting part of the interview for me was when Charles said his strength routine lasted three hours, but that he was only allowed to do it once a week as his body needed the other 6 days to recover and rebuild him stronger. This is not breaking news, this is physiology - but, as runners, we all too often see a rest as a missed opportunity to train.

I don't think we have any 97 year olds in our club, but the largest age group is certainly 30 years plus rather than 15-30 years. Why is this important? Because our strength starts to diminish once we reach our 30s. 

So, if lots of endurance running doesn’t build muscle and age diminishes muscle, then we should start looking at a strength programme - particularly if our running performance deteriorates despite increased distances.

At the track last Thursday I observed the effect of a good strength and conditioning programme in the performance of one particular athlete who had returned from a break after family commitments. This was only his third week back at the track but he was the talk amongst some of the faster athletes who had never met him. A self-trained and well-read athlete, Alex had clearly kept himself in an amazing shape as he rolled off 8x800m, starting with 2min 40s, and then improving by a second each rep until he steadied around 2min 35s. And while we are talking about the track, I encourage you to read Donna Moosh Carroll’s blog  -it sums up why we all love being at the track on a Thursday eve. 

http://runningforrunningsake.blogspot.co.uk/2017/01/double-thursday-im-on-fire.html?spref=fb

Plea for advice

As I sit here in front of the PC, my stomach is in knots and my head is spinning. Quite apart from any of our usual dramas that send me into a spin, I had to rest yesterday! REST - what do you mean REST? Can't you see on your Strava feed that you are already 13th in the PWR league table of mileage?! 

The time counter on my website www.mikethemod.com (best viewed on a PC) is blatantly telling me I have 69 days 17 hours 54 mins 04 secs until the Brighton Marathon and 84 days 18 hours 38 mins and 39 secs until the London Marathon. But pain in my lower abs on hip flexion, upper inner thigh on adduction and an ultrasound scan are telling me I have a hernia. And quick check with a PWR at Parkrun yesterday did not cheer me up, “Yes, they tell you 6-8 weeks recovery but I am still having trouble two years later”. Ouch :-(.

I will endeavour to seek out as much expert help as possible this week, including via this blog. If there are any Soft Tissue Therapists, Physiotherapists or Doctors out there who are able to suggest a conservative course of action for a sports hernia - that will still get me to the start line in 10 weeks’ time - I would be eternally grateful. 

I’ve had a pain in the inguinal area for about three months now, but it was only a month ago that I began to notice pain in the lower abs when I turned over in bed. This has progressed to pain for the first few minutes of a run and now pain when walking (planting the right leg). The Psoas stretch (knee on the ground, pushing hips forward) also provokes pain in the lower abs. Luckily my two marathon efforts are about just being there rather than trying to run a particular time so, with a week off taking anti-inflams and some advice re a treatment protocol, I can get back on track.

Canterbury 10

I had a recovery week last week, covering just 20 miles including the Canterbury 10 mile race yesterday. This was a substantial drop from weeks of running 50, 50 and 42 miles. I would love to tell you it was part of my Master Plan but the truth was a combination of sore Achilles, a raised heart rate and an upcoming race. 

The sore Achilles was my own fault - a touch of overuse.  Averaging 30 miles a week throughout December, I started the New Year with marathon fever and substituted the 10% increase rule for 50%. A few nights on a foam roller, a week of Ibuprofen, some rest and some KT Tape across the actual tendon certainly helped. 

Not sure what raised the heart rate. For those of you who may be unaware of the significance of this, it’s a very simple way of monitoring your body’s reaction to the load you are placing on it - whether you run or not! Take your resting heart rate when you first wake up each morning. Mine is normally 52 beats per minute but last Tuesday morning my heart was was 56. Firstly, I should say that if you get into the rhythm of monitoring your resting heart rate you will find it to be very stable. I wake up, watch my alarm clock and count how many beats over 30 seconds, multiply by two and that’s my number. So, are four extra beats a minute important? Well four extra beats per minute are 240 extra beats per hour and 5,760 extra beats per day! WOWZER. So your little old heart is suddenly beating nearly 6,000 times a day more for some reason! Maybe you are tired from marathon training and the heart is working harder to help your body repair all those micro-tears caused by the long runs. Maybe you have a cold coming and your heart is beating faster to send in armies of good antibodies to fight off the baddies. Whatever the reason, it’s a very simple signal that you may need to ease off the training and monitor the effect. 

My last reason for resting was the upcoming race. I was impressed when a fellow Petts Wood Runner told me he was running this particular race at ‘marathon pace’. I questioned this as it seemed too early in the year and I felt he was in a great shape to run a good 10 mile time. The response was very positive, “This year is all about my marathon”. For someone who has run some very good times, but probably not fulfilled his potential due to getting caught up in races other years, I am hoping that this new initiative works for him. I will come back to the race later but I should say here that, as he glided past me before even mile one was up, I thought to myself “He’s going too fast already”, only to find that he was spot on at the finish.

So, my last blog was about Thursday track night. God it was sooo cold, in fact bloody freezing! The session was 15 min tempo followed by 5x1k, although for any runners slower than 27 min for 5k I got them to run 5x800m. The reason I did this was because these runners have amazing potential for improvement and what could be holding them back is simply a lack of confidence to run fast. Luckily for me it was a success, with a couple of 35 min park runners completing their 800m in 5 min, which is 10 min mile pace - 31 min Parkrun pace. So the seed has been sown in their minds that this time is totally achievable. 

As the week had gone by without the appearance of my new Nike Pegasus, I needed to decide whether I would race on Sunday. By Saturday my heart rate was back to normal and my Achilles were feeling ok, although I had not tested them. So, to get me in the right headspace for a race, I took mikethemod to Mr Snips in Petts Wood for a race day haircut. To boost my fundraising efforts, I have been raising mikethemod’s social profile with some short videos of him and his eco-friendly leg-powered Lambretta preparing for his marathons. 

I donned my Parka, my Teenage Cancer Trust cycling shirt (very Mod), a pair of Levis 501s and a pair Desert Boots and climbed inside my Lambretta for a short run to Petts Wood High Street. I had been growing my hair for the video, so my Suedehead had become more French Crop. I asked Martin Moss of Mr Snips for a “race day skinhead cut” (number 2 all over) and pressed record on my video camera. Martin put up a mikethemod poster in his shop and Teenage Cancer Trust and Demelza Hospice Care for Children collection boxes on his desk. It was a funny half hour...... although I was mortified when I realised I had climbed back into my scooter and run away without paying him.

At 7.45am on Sunday we boarded a 52 seater coach and headed off to the Canterbury 10 mile race - part of the PWR Grand Prix. I had entered for the last two years, registering 68 mins in 2015 and 72 mins in 2016. It was freezing, as it had been for whole of the last week, but the sky was clear and the sun was shining so we settled down for our journey. As we passed Maidstone, however, the fog descended - and that was the last we saw of any clear blue sky until we got home that evening. 

Freezing fog met us as we left the coach for the short walk to Race HQ. It was clear that the sports hall was going to be busy, so I grabbed my number and walked into Canterbury town centre with my son Scott. We found a Wetherspoons Pub, The Thomas Ingoldsby, and made the most of a black coffee and a warm room. We then made our way back to the start and bang on 10am we were off. 

I was hoping for sub 70 mins! It sounded strong, but my training run of 14 miles  two weeks ago finishing with a 6 min 30 sec mile had left me feeling I was in good condition. My first mile was 7 min 10 sec, so spot on really. I was freezing cold though, my hands were already hurting and I was breathing far heavier than I should be given that I still had 9 miles to go. 7 min 10 sec again and then 6 min 50 sec and 6 min 50 sec. I was still breathing too hard and it felt like a tempo run, but the times were what i wanted and I hoped I would soon warm up and feel comfortable. 

We passed through Bridge Village (running there much quicker than our later coach journey would take). At mile five I reached the only major hill on the course, I hate hills, Just keep the tempo up, I kept saying to myself, shorten the stride, but pace dropped significantly and my fifth mile was 7 min 50 sec, leaving me 36 min at halfway. I hate that, when you shave 10 secs off mile after mile - just to give it all back in one bad one. I guess that’s how your average golfer feels. 

I suddenly got passed by three PWRs; Rory, then Emma, then Stephen. I was still cold and now my head had gone. Why was I here? What was I doing? Had I gone off too fast? More importantly, how far behind me was Paul? I knew this next section was downhill, so I tried to drive on. The freezing fog reduced visibility so much it felt like I was the only runner in the race - until I passed someone or someone passed me, the latter happening all too often. 

With two miles to go I had got into a rhythm and suddenly saw Emma just in front of me. I pushed hard with a 6 min 58 sec and almost got to touching distance of Em, although she would have been blissfully unaware. The last mile marker obviously gave her a boost and, even though I finished with a 6 min 50 sec, Emma finished a good 20 seconds ahead of me, even beating Stephen on the mat ( I hear). 

My fingers were painful and I felt quite sick as I sat down in the hall. A hot cup of tea revived me. As a club we did brilliantly with new club records, a winning team and Janine running a great personal best (she has worked incredibly hard on her running form at the track). Once we were all back on the coach we made our way to The White Horse Inn in Bridge for a well-deserved Sunday lunch (an old friend and colleague of mine, Elliot Blair, is a co-owner). 

http://www.whitehorsebridge.co.uk/about-us/

We actually ran past The White Horse Inn during the race. Elliot was in a bit of a panic as the trophy presentation had held us up, but 52 roast lunches all arrived fresh and hot and the large coal fire and pints of Kentish Ale refreshed the parts other races could not reach. I got home just in time to lay on the sofa in front of the TV and watch the Blues win.

Club Tuesday

Tonight is the club run. The club is Petts Wood Runners and it has been a phenomenal success since its birth 10 years ago. On that first night, just a dozen of us met outside the Memorial Hall in Petts Wood and we went for a gentle run around some of the secret alleys and pathways that cut through the Noel Rees estates. Last Tuesday we had 195 runners attend a Club Tuesday session.195! Even our current 11 groups struggled to cope with attendance. One group in particular, Group 7, who run 6 miles (10k) at 9 min - 9 min 30s, pace had 38 runners. This evening I need to make a decision about which group I run with - Group 9  (7 miles 8 min - 8 min 30s pace) or Group 10 (7.5 miles 7 min 30s - 8min) pace. Over the last month, Club Tuesdays have become my ‘long run’; leaving the house at 7pm to do an hour’s run before hooking up with the club at 8pm. This strategy allows me to eat and then fall into bed immediately afterwards, as opposed to the more popular Sunday morning ‘long run’, that leaves me grouchy, thirsty, tired and hungry for the rest of the day. Why change this week? Well, we have a 10 mile race on Sunday - the Parker Tools Canterbury 10 Mile Race. I would like to have a strong run but worry that doing 15 miles tonight will not leave me time to recover. My Achilles are also a bit sore. Do I listen to ‘Mike the Injury Man’ and rest or at least take it easy, or do I listen to ‘Mike No Gain Without Pain’ and go with the faster group -  if Sunday goes well, tonight’s pace in the faster group will still be slower than the pace I hope to achieve on Sunday. I'm starting to realise why I have no followers on tumblr.... God, this is boring! BUT it feels cathartic to put thoughts to paper - or screen - whatever. i woke up today full of angst; one of those mornings when I couldn't remember where or if i had walked the dog. It’s not even as if I had anything lined up to do - but my mikethemod alter ego is wearing me down. i know I need to keep sending out letters and posting photos etc but there is so much to do.... so i put it off for another day. It didn't help that I forgot to take my anti depressants last week. The brain zaps were nasty and there was no way I could run as i felt so dizzy. I’ve finally caught up again but it leaves a horrible feeling in my stomach and my head - I am overwhelmed, even though all I've done today is write this blog (and hoovered and mopped and watched Neighbours). I had the scooter lengthened over the weekend - last Saturday’s Parkrun, and the pain that followed, forced the issue. A kindly member of Petts Wood Runners said that one of his engineers could sort it out for me. It’s amazing now. Much more stable. But just an extra 30cm makes a huge difference and I am now worried it now looks too long. I've walked down the garden a dozen times to look at it, parked it next to my real scooters, wandered back indoors, fret and then walk back down the garden again. Stop Press - some amazing news! Auntie Anne sold an old ring in Robert James jewellers in Petts Wood High Street for £90..... and she is donating all of the money to Teenage Cancer trust and Demelza Hospice Care for Children. Fantastic. Keep going mikethemod. Time for my pre-run fishfinger sandwich.

Its been a while since i last posted. I had become a bit dependent with Tumblr, I followed lots of people, got 2 lovely followers but felt as though i was missing the point somewhere. Training is going well. I continue to make Tuesday nights my club night with Petts Wood Runners my long run. So i leave the house at 7pm run 7 miles and then going ‘Group 9′ who run 7 miles at 8min miles. I cannot believe that last tuesday we had a record night. 198 runners! split over 11 groups ranging from 3-4 miles at 12min mining to 8-9miles at sub 7min miling. My upper body breathing etc is finding the high mileage easy to cope with actually but my achilles always seem to be on the edge of crying off some nights. I had a fun Bromley parkrun the week before last and found a few modetets along the way

  As an exercise it was very interesting, i struggles to run faster than 10min mining and my average stride length was only 87cm. My back was in a lot of pain after and my hip flexors were screaming. I finished in 30min. i definitely need to get the scooter lengthened. I only hope it does not make it more unstable. Every little bump rocks the pot rivets in the aluminium. last night i managed 11miles but my feet and achilles were very sore so not sure if i will venture out today. Next Sunday we have a coach booked to travel to The Canterbury 10mile with pub lunch after in The White Horse in Bridge. I won't be taking the scooter as some of the course is on trails.

Very funny scene today at Maidstone Harriers 7.5mile Cross Country The Turkey Trot. Petts Wood Runners tried to recreate the nativity scene in fancy dress in the Garden of England. My achilles continue to be sore so I assed up on the opportunity to traipse through the mud, preferring to watch the race from behind my video camera.

Maidstone Harriers Turkey Trot tomorrow and its started raining just in time. Hilarious scenes last year as one after another there disappeared into the swamp.

Tuesday Night Club Run

I've been experimenting with trying to integrate a long weekly run into the Tuesday night club run. The hour before the club meets is normally one of kicking my heels and preparing for the 8 o'clock start. So for the last month I have been steadily increasing my pre club run distance. Today I managed 6miles at about 8:15min mile. Then hooked up with Petts Wood Runners group 10 who ran 7miles at 7:45 under the leadership of Jenny. We had a faller at 4mile, poor Jim took a heavy fall just near Chislehurst Parade. He was accompanied home while the rest of us continued on. Petts Wood Runners is a pretty amazing story. A running club only 10yrs old. I was one of 12 who turned up on its first night. Now the average turn out is .....wait for it.......180!!! Spread over 11 groups. Pretty amazing really.

Petts Wood Runners Strava nights. Like bees returning to the hive.