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‘Morning your madge…’ I thought as I cycled gently past Buckingham Palace.
‘Morning armed police officers, pigeons and fellow traffic users…’ It’d just a series of simple thoughts I use to keep me tranquil as I cycle. Occasionally I’ll notice the lycra clad arse of an attractive lady and might put a bit of effort into keeping up with her but generally I’m just bimbling along.

Having gone through my usual ritual I dropped down through the gears as I approached the Hyde Park Corner roundabout and particularly the crossing from Green Park towards the war memorials. This is one of those places that even if the road is clear you don’t risk trying to get across – it’s dangerous and full of unknowns.

It was about 7.43am and the lights had turned red for the traffic and the green man was blazing at the cyclists and pedestrians – beckoning us across the road. It was a surprisingly thin smattering of traffic and the 10 or so cyclists and the 5 runners headed over the road – as we were about halfway a courier van came thundering towards us, in particular 3 runners were in his line of sight. Each of them stepped back despite being more than halfway across the road and rather than hit his breaks the van driver sped up, missing commuters of all shapes and sizes by inches.

Several of the only just missed cyclists and runners looked shocked by the drivers actions – it wasn’t just that the van raced through the red light, it wasn’t just that the van raced between people and cyclists it was the fact that he sped up that shocked most people who witnessed it.

In true British form we all did the sensible thing and simply carried on with our journey but several of us spoke as we prepared to cross the second set of lights and we were all a little shaken.

‘Inches.. that’s all it was’ said one
‘He ACTUALLY sped up’ said another
‘Cunt’ was the response of the third

I asked if they were okay and then went about my business but I was nervous that day and since it happened about a fortnight ago I’ve been much more conscious of the traffic lights, the flow of traffic and annoyingly I’ve even been cycling more slowly.

I suppose the lesson is that commuting in London is a dangerous game whatever your mode of transport and that you must be constantly vigilant as not everyone follows the laws of the land.

Safe commuting everyone.

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So I’d cycled the ten miles to my run, I’d locked the bike up, I’d strapped my bag on nice and tight and set the Suunto to go. 100metres, all fine on the track, 350metres, up the trail steps into the undergrowth and the mud, 750metres, tight cornering – use the tree to help balance me out, 800metres, fuck I’ve fallen and I’ce ripped my old favourite tights and I’m in a boatload of pain. My first thought was I’m in the middle of a forest and nobody around me, the second thought was I’m ten miles from home with no way back other than under my own steam, my third thought was, ‘shit if I’ve broken my leg then that’s the C2C out the window.

Thankfully I got up – ran back the way I came, took a quick look at the various cuts on my leg and saw the bleeding and made it back to the bike, lay there a little while and then raced like lightening all the way home. A lesson for us all, but mainly me, careful where you go running in these rather difficult conditions – if I were the kind of person who blames his shoes I’d say ‘naughty Merrell barefoots’ but I think that would be unfair they had been pretty good the rest of the adventure

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There is nothing like an old friend and the Shorne Woods in north west Kent between Gravesend and Rochester are a bit of a love of mine. I tend to visit more when it’s winter as the ground is cut up, usually flooded and full of crap to give yourself a good going over with. But now with my new found love of cycling I decided that I’d grab my road bike (my beloved Decathlon Triban 3) and cycle up to the  wood. It was a delightfully hilly ride and with the wind whipping in my hair and around my knuckles I hadn’t felt so good in ages. I drifted down to excellent cycle rack, locked up the iron horse, tweeted a few pictures and strapped my pack onto my back – I was going trail running.

I always forget how much I love trail running until I’m doing it. Hills, mud, wet,  slipping and sliding – there is nothing like it, well not unless you’re a pig I guess. I raced up Cardiac Hill, I raced down it and then around it, I kept getting lost and following signs taking me round in circles, what fun I cried. I growled provocatively at passing walkers and dogs and threw myself with gay abandon into every inch of water I could find.

Oh the glory!

After an hour of fooling round in the mud I descended on the cafe, stood at the door not wanting to make the floor dirty and requested one of their delicious bacon sandwiches and a cup of steamingly delightful coffees.

My feet, legs, arms, back and head were wet with sweat, mud and tears but with a bacon sandwich in my tummy and a ABBA in my head I grabbed my bike and hurtled home – downhill almost all the way to the cries of WEEEEHEEEEEWOOHOOOOOOO.

Oh what fun!

It has been my pleasure for much of the last few years to be running on a very regular basis but the addition of cycling just adds a great new dynamic and I highly recommend it to anybody. Additionally I will also recommend the Shorne Wood to any trail runner who fancies a few hills and guaranteed mouthful of crap (you will  fall over 🙂 ).

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I saw a post recently on Urban Running from Running Mum and thought it was a truly excellent piece and caused me to consider my own urban running. Why? Well, I began to think that I was one of those shits who simply expects people to get out of my way and expects the roads to open up in front of me but then I was discussing this very topic this morning and discovered that actually I’m pretty courteous.

However, the following is true;

I run straight towards people
When I do run straight towards people I always move out of their way, I’m the one going quickly, I’m going to take the appropriate action and I try to indicate to people which way I’m going so as not to cause distress.

I jump out into the road
When I jump out into the road I always look before I leap and look before I leap back too.

I run in front of the traffic be it ahead or behind me
I only take windows of opportunity that are available and usually none life threatening but I will travel on the road until it is no longer safe to do so and I’m a very good judge of traffic. I am very aware of the traffic after four young gentlemen while I was running along the back of Oxford Street pushed me into the oncoming traffic, this had the effect of me hitting the side of a taxi and rolling along it and off the back into the road – thankfully there was nothing behind as had there been I would have been killed. The guys just laughed and continuing wandering down the road. I got up and dusted myself off and despite being shaken continued running.

I have shouted ‘meemeep’ to get my fellow pavement users out of the way
I would never shout offensive things to the fellow pavement or road users (including cyclists) but when I run through Covent Garden at rush hour I do like to pretend I’m the roadrunner and call out meemeep as my warning sound. This is especially effective with Americans and children.

I have tutted when groups of tourists have gotten in my way
I try to be considerate but when you are narrow streets and are a large group it would do you no harm to be considerate too and so yes I will grumble to them as I go past and think this is perfectly acceptable

I have shoulder barged tourists on the embankment and not apologised
On occasion when I’ve been going flat out I have misjudged the odd space and smacked straight into someones shoulder usually and I haven’t stopped. I probably should and I’d like to apologies here and now for anyone I might have accidentally bruised during my running escapades. I have also been known to slap into someone who is hogging a pavement to make a bit of a point – pavements are designed to go in multiple directions and when those who can clearly see you coming make no effort to let you pass then why should I be the bigger person and step into the road? I mean I usually do but when they look you in the eye and challenge you that pisses me off – shoulder slap!

I have been called a ‘cunt’ by people on Westminster Bridge as I run past them
Funnily it’s the language of the cyclists that gets me the most. I was once deliberately pushed into the cycle lane by a pedestrian, the cyclist who was going beyond me called me ‘you giant fucking cunt’ – rather an over reaction as I barely slipped into the road and managed to get back on the pavement pretty quickly. As I passed him at the traffic lights a few hundred metres later at the traffic lights near Waterloo I did give a rather long two fingered salute – childish I know but he deserved it.

I do weave through people traffic and take no prisoners
I make no bones about it, if I’m running at 3.30per km I’m going to need to weave between people and not lose my groovy pacing. Straight lines simply aren’t available in London during rush hour and therefore I dodge between people but I do it in as polite a way as possible.

I do run through the ticket section of Blackfriars station
I love running through the ticket sections of train stations, Blackfriars, Charing Cross, London Bridge – to name but a few. Hearing the sound of the TfL guys telling me to slow down is a sound I never tire of. Breaking rules, I’m such a bad man! Ha.

I will leap between people when there is a slightly too small gap
I’m a designer, I work with space, I see space, I understand how it all comes together and I know where I can fit. In the distance I’m judging the spaces in front of me. I see people and watch how they are walking, when and where they will connect and can I dive between them. I pull my shoulders tight, push my arms forward and follow through with a ‘meemeep’ and an occasionally ‘woohoo’ if it was very tight. Its childish but by crikey its fun.

So, yes, I probably am an inconsiderate urban runner but not the most inconsiderate and I do try to think of other road and pavement users and while I may fail sometimes because I am occasionally a bit of what the cyclist described me as I will continue to try. I like to think that it isn’t just the urban runner who can be inconsiderate but intact all road and pavement users and if we all thought a little more about the things we do the world would be a much better and generally safer place – but then maybe some of the thrill is in the barbed exchanges and danger.

Happy running.

I’m a big comic book fan and if I were a superhero then I’d be Batman obviously (you never see us in the same room do you?). The great thing about Batman is that he’s timeless and you can tailor his origins to best fit the needs of the audience. UltraBoy is a bit like that, he is the alter ego I’m aiming to be, he’s the one who runs on race days, the rest of the time I’m just boring old me, grinding out the miles. UltraBoy is the one who can run big distances in a single bound and occasionally leap oversized gates in the fields of Kent.

UltraBoys origin comes from when he was refused entry into the London Marathon for the third time and he immediately signed up for his first ultra, he then saw something called the UTMB and thought that sounds fun and so signed up for two more qualifying races. Race 1, UltraBoy was learning about his powers and when he was severely injured he managed to pull through and save the day and claim 2 precious UTMB points. Race 2, UltraBoy was in his stride and threw himself into the race, finishing more than 8hrs before the cut off time, therefore claiming a further 2 UTMB points and a decent performance. Race 3 and UltraBoy met his kryptonite, his Joker, his Darth Vadar and after running more than 50 miles on heavily blistered feet, dreadful conditions and without having done enough training he pulled out of his first 100 mile race. But UltraBoy is made of sterner stuff, he used the Twitter community and some rest to recover and re-energise himself and now he’s slowly but surely returning.

2013 was year 2 of running races and although it’s not over I’ve not got any real challenges facing me, well unless you count the Snowdonia Marathon in a few weeks, so perhaps I have one last challenge this year. The rest of the year though will be a collection of rag tag races, found probably at the last minute, and only up to marathon distance, this primarily because I didn’t sign up for the Brecon Beacons in time and I don’t think I can really be bothered with the waiting list. Therefore 2014 is going to be my biggest year of racing a I prepare properly for an assault on the all getting entry to the all singing, all dancing UTMB. I’ve pinpointed a couple of 4pointers (just signed up for the NDW100) and a couple of 3pointers as well as several other practice ultra marathons – I’m going to super power myself to this one and I will not fail.

There are things I’m doing differently now too – I’m not a gym bunny and can’t bring myself to do it really as I find it boring but having invested in a mountain bike earlier in the year I’ve now added a road racer for shits and giggles and I’m perhaps adding a folding bike into the mix to give me options for getting into work and therefore increase my overall activity. I’ve also added swimming and completed my first two open water races earlier this year but I’ve been a little inconsistent in the pool and need to ramp this up a little bit to ensure that I’m maintaining my body and performance. Even superhero types need to keep in trim.

Perhaps that’s been one of the big realisations I’ve had this year is that I’m in my mid30s and stuff doesn’t bounce back the way it used too and my injuries have at times been quite severe and stupidly I’ve just kept going. My key hope is with the addition of extensive cycling and swimming atop my running I will be able to maintain better performance and stay injury free.

And now …

I’m looking forward to blogging and discussing my running/superhero-ing experiences with my fellow tweeters and more importantly fellow runners, hoping to be inspired and perhaps even inspire a little as I grind out long runs, short runs and stupid runs.

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