That Gormandizer Man

Being Average

I ran the Amsterdam Half Marathon on Sunday. It was really enjoyable, but it was also really tough.

I wasn't 100% happy with my preparation. I was ill a week or so before and to be honest I didn't put the miles in on the road beforehand (and I have a couple of injuries now which are fully deserved).

Last year I ran it in a personal best of 1:44. This year I only managed 1:49. But this has taught me something.

I've found my natural range.

When I run lots and prepare properly I can still only manage a very mainstream time of 1:44. And when I don't prepare properly I can still struggle to a mainstream 1:49.

I'm the epitome of a mainstream runner. I don't have the skills or the inclination to be elite.

This is because I fit running into the other parts of my life. It doesn't dominate my life, but it does play its part.

I'm not prepared to sacrifice the comfort of other parts of my life for my running and that's why I'll never be amazing. In that respect I'm a lot like a lot of brands.

I think there are 3 kinds of brands: Ultra-safe brands; Mainstream brands and Risky brands.

Ultra-safe brands
These are your high street banks; your pharmaceutical brands; your global campaigns for some FMCG products. They very rarely produce work that is compelling, inspirational or has much longevity. It's there's to do a job, and breaking new creative boundaries isn't really on their radar.
If they were a runner: They wouldn't even run. They'd do as little exercise as they can possibly get away with.

Mainstream brands
These can span most sectors, and are probably the most visible of the brands we see each day. The activity that epitomises these brands will be kinda OK, kinda cool, but pretty unmemorable. They try not to offend anyone. They'll probably talk a lot about wanting to push boundaries and create amazingly memorable work, but in reality they want to see others do that and they'll just copy them a few months later.
If they were a runner: They would be me. They'd fit running into their life, but wouldn't be prepared to be at the cutting edge risking things - they'd be comfortable with it... but talk about it incessantly... as my friends can testify.

Risky brands
These brands here are memorable. These are Zappos; Absolut; Old Spice; BrewDog and as much as it pains me to say - Ryanair. These are the brands that stand for something and push boundaries. They're polarising and don't mind if they offend some people so long as they've got a niche in the market. Their whole being stands for being something. Working hard and being unique.
If they were a runner: They would be an elite runner. You've seen one - the sinuous, bony, only-ever-eats-pasta and only-has-one-drink-a-week people. Their whole being is based around their running and they very rarely partake in anything that is detrimental to that.

So which should a brand be and how can agencies help them?
That all depends on their motivation levels. Do they want to be one of the pack and not stand out? Maybe they'll want to be one of the pack as a lot of them will see standing out as a bad thing. They'll expose themselves and for some that's unsettling.
For others they'll want to stand out and stand for something. They know it's polarising but they'll be happy making some people very happy instead of trying to make everyone a bit happy.

It's interesting being an agency and working with clients that belong to these groups too. Knowing how far to push a client and to understand their real motivations is a real skill, and the agencies that can do it well are the ones that are the elite and not the mainstream.

The brands and agencies that are happy with their natural range being mainstream should be happy with that, but the brands and agencies with the potential to be amazing should aim for the elite - the unique and the memorable. It's not achievable by all so those that can be it should grasp the opportunity with both hands.

Preparing for a run

I'm running the Amsterdam Half Marathon on Sunday.

At the moment I'm nervous about it. I usually get a bit nervous before a big run, but I'm a bit more nervous than usual this time round. This is because I've been a bit ill so my preparation hasn't been too good. The upshot is I don't think I'm going to get anywhere near my personal best because I know you need to be 100% right physically and mentally in order to totally push yourself to the limit. If I'm being honest I don't feel I'm either at the moment.

In every run I've done so far I've improved on my previous times. This is the first one where I don't honestly feel I can better my best. I'm going into it with a mix of excitement, energy and dread. I know I'll have a slightly empty feeling at the end.

This is because I've been limited in my preparations and this is why I'll never be an elite runner. I'm accepting the fact that I'll not get a personal best because of the limitations - illness and lack of training. Truly great athletes would be inspired by this and would push themselves to breaking point.

But it's not all doom and gloom and I'm looking forward to the run. I'm genuinely excited about waking up, eating breakfast and then talking about the run with my friends. Then it'll be back to the hotel to relax for a while.

When the time comes we'll get ready and put some music on. I like to focus on the task in hand before a big event. I sit and think about what I'm about to do in a rational manner. I'm about to run for about 2 hours. Two hours. Two hours. No stopping. Start off easy and don't get carried away. I'll set myself some goals such as not skipping through my iPod Shuffle until at least 1 hour in. I'll restrict my intake of energy gels until at least halfway. During the race I will stick to these goals.

There's a great buzz and excitement at the beginning of a run. Everyone is together, and you can feel the nervous energy dripping off people. I love that feeling.

I find there are four stages to a run:

Settling in; enjoyment; effort; elation.

Settling in is a key stage. Don't get too excited by the atmosphere otherwise you'll set off too quickly. This could be disastrous. I prefer to start pretty slow and speed up toward the end. I'm very focused at this stage.

After around half an hour or so I start to really enjoy the run. By then my body has adjusted and I'm in my stride taking in the sights around me. It's a joy to be running. I lose focus at this point and just enjoy the feeling.

Then the wall happens. There's a lot of stuff written about the wall, but I'm talking about a different one. Regardless of whether it's a 4 mile run home or a 13 mile half marathon, I always hit a wall. It's always about two-thirds of the way through any distance I run. I get an immediate feeling of a lack of energy, and question whether I should stop or not. It takes a lot of focus to stick to your guns at this point.

Lastly comes the elation. There's no better feeling when you're in a run than when you know there's not too far to go and that you're gonna make it. It becomes joyful again. Sure, you're tired, but it's a joy. Energy reserves might kick in here. The crowds build up toward the end and you get people cheering you on. At this point I'll think about why I'm running, and if I'm raising sponsorship I'll think about the people involved to try and get every little drop of effort out of my body. I can get quite emotional at this stage.

It's a lovely feeling totally giving 100% for something and feeling like you couldn't have done any better. I'm really looking forward to that feeling on Sunday, I just don't think it'll be my best ever.

The last runs of 2009

It's been a while since I blogged my runs. Truth is, it's been a bit more difficult over the winter than it was over the summer. It's been very cold, icy, snowy and I've been working long hours. I've combated the cold by buying those legging things, but I end up looking like a podgy smurf.

(See what I mean?)

Anyway.

Over Christmas I visited Seattle and Vancouver. Take out the fact that my fear of flying is getting worse, and that FOX News seemed to take pleasure in telling me people were trying to blow airplanes up, and I loved it. They're both great cities to wander around. I drank some local beer, ate some local food, ate some food from thousands of miles away, drank a lot of coffee, and did some running. Two main runs really.

This was the run I went on the first morning I was there. It's a great way to get a feel of a city quickly - get out there and do a run. Look at the body language, look at the architecture, see other runners, see how many people are commuting on public transport, see how many people are eating breakfast before work. This route was suggested by the staff of the hotel and it was nice. Along the harbour front was a lovely mix of tourist stuff (restaurants, aquarium, the odd bar), some hardcore industry (lots of ores being loaded - very vibrant colours, and a train that I swear was about 3 miles long - I didn't get to see the end of it) and some lovely nature walks and public gardens. I managed to catch some kind of chesty cough on the plane over so this was a good way to get some sea air into my lungs.

On Boxing Day I got the Greyhound to Vancouver. A great city. On my last day there I wanted to run a little around Stanley Park. I'd cycled around the sea wall a day or two earlier, but I only wanted a small run... as it was I had one of those runs that you really enjoy. The one where you only envisage half-hour or so but you really get into it and you go for ages. I ended up running around the whole perimeter.

It was COLD on the day I did this and at one point I thought my leg hairs had frozen. I've had frozen leg hairs before - they're a strange feeling. They weren't frozen, but they weren't far off. The sea wall has a great mix of different stuff: some paths with historic totem poles, some beaches, the odd cafe and pathways that are literally a metre wide. On one side you've got a sheer cliff face, on the other is the ocean. Never one to panic too much, I obviously sprinted as fast as I could through these parts...

As it was I ran for 2 hours and 12 minutes when I was away. That's kinda normal for me. When I go away alone I usually come back a bit fitter as I find running somewhere new really enjoyable.

Since getting back I've just returned from my first run of 2010. I've been happily using the snow as an excuse not to run, but now I need to change that and get back into my running.

Lisbon Half Marathon 2009

So I've been back a week now. I've not ran since the race in Lisbon. I seem to do that after big runs.

When I've broken the back of lethargy for so long and been training for something then it's all too easy to fall back out of the habit and for lethargy to kick in. As it is, at the moment, I just don't fancy going for a run. I know I would enjoy it when I got out there, but actually preparing for it? Mentally preparing for it? Putting my kit on? Physically preparing for it? Nah, not at the moment thanks. Maybe tomorrow...

And that right there is when you fall down a notch, people. It's when lethargy beats you.

I'm sat here trying to convince myself that I deserve a bit of time for my body to recover, but I know it's just because I'm lazy at the moment. I reckon later this week my body will react and I'll get out.

Anyway, the Lisbon Half Marathon was ace. I set out to try and run it in under 2 hours. In the end I managed it in 1:47.

I was happy with that because it was hot. I think it was about 23 degrees. It meant that when I finished I was a sweaty mess.

There's a great feeling toward the end of a race. You know you're going to make it. Better than that, you know you're going to make it within your target time. It's quite an emotional moment. On this race, that point for me was with about 2km to go.

My body was knackered. You know you're running like Hunter and Gonzo on ether, but you're willing yourself to get to the end. To achieve your goals - whatever they be. My goals this time were to finish within 2 hours, and not to stop throughout the run. With 2km to go I knew I was going to achieve this. At this point, something magical happened. As I was running alone I had my iPod shuffle on and Won't Get Fooled Again popped on. Magic. I think I actually sped up.

On this course, you double back on yourself and you run past the finish in the wrong direction two thirds of the way round, so it's a real mental battle to keep on going. When you pass that finish you're running further and further away from it and more accomplished runners are running on the other side of the road toward the finish line. The further away from the finish you head, you're hoping that around every bend you'll see the runners in front of you turning around. When you do eventually see that it's a beautiful sight and it lifts your spirits.

When you can see the finish line you put every last ounce of energy and determination into it and you push your body to its limits. Your legs are on fire, your lungs are burning and your jaw starts hurting. (Sounds funny I know but you've been clenching your teeth for so long it actually starts hurting.) You go as fast as your body will take you. You focus on the line. You make sure you get your foot down solidly on the line so the chip on your shoe registers your time. You turn your own watch off... and...

... well, that's it.

For nearly 2 hours you've been focused on a place you're trying to get to, and then you're there. There are no fireworks, no marching bands. Just you, your sweat, your burning lungs and your aching limbs. You've been running for so long that when you stop it's difficult to stand still. Your body doesn't understand that for nearly 2 hours you've been pushing it so hard only for you to stop quickly without giving it any warning. It's a strange feeling that.

So I enjoyed it. I got a sunburnt head, my vertigo wasn't happy at all when I ran over a very high bridge, I inhaled Powerade and the organisation of the race wasn't too good (starting the fun run at the same time as a half marathon is not a good idea) but it was great.

Me and Rory were chatting the other day and we're thinking Amsterdam may be the next one in October. If I can break the back of lethargy again then I'll look forward to that.

Thanks to everyone that sponsored me. It's money that is all going to a very good cause.

Contrasting fortunes

Apologies for the tardyness of the posts, everyone. There's this thing called work that is taking up a bit of time...

Back in the swing of things with a very quick post about a couple of runs I've been on recently.

This first one happened a week or so ago. It was very cold. Are you listening... I'm talking... C.O.L.D.

Me and Mr. Fegan decided on a half marathon, and because we don't like to bottle out of our own goals, we did it even though it was freezing cold, snowing and dark when we finished. Was a nice buzz when we were done, though.

(The map is here if the embedded version doesn't show up in your feeds)

Secondly, Mr. Fegan and I ran the following route yesterday. Neither of us were really up for it, but we knew we needed to run so spurred each other on to do it. (Good running partners, see.)

Bored of our usual routes we thought we'd run along the canal and see where we ended up. We stumbled on a really nice route that took us to Victoria Park and all the way back. Pleasant weather, and the prize at the end was an ice cold Bulmers or 3 in the boozer after. Most satisfying. Runs like these ones are really satisfying and it's a great feeling at the end when you feel energetic and like you've accomplished something.

(The second run is here if it doesn't show up in your feeds.)

An icy Sunday run

Perfect running weather yesterday. Cold, fresh, but not windy or raining.

Freshly togged up in a nice clean kit with the essentials for that kind of weather: a double layer of tops, protection on the nipples and nice warm gloves. Before we knew it Mr. Fegan and I had ran nearly 10 miles. Highly enjoyable, but a bit painful in parts. Primrose Hill is perfect for running - it's something you focus on before you get there, something you hate running up, but also something that gives you an immense feeling of gratification when you've conquered it.

(The map is here if the embed doesn't work in your feeds.)

Why running is better than walking

... or, to be more precise, why people and brands should have the vision of a runner.

 
(Please excuse my scribbles and northern colloquialisms)

You see, when I run I look a good 10 - 50 metres in front of me. It makes sense. When you go slow you generally look directly in front of you - maybe upto a metre in front. When you go very fast, say in a car, you look a good few hundred metres in front of you. (Well, all besides Mr. Feganwho when travelling on the autobahn seems to think the car in front of him won't get any closer even though he's going about 100mph faster than it and gaining ground rapidly...)

I reckon there are similarities between brands and people here... what a revolutionary thought...

The Walkers
The walkers are keeping themselves very safe but not really the people around them. They hold the faster people back and they're reactionary when they need to make a decision. Some are positively knee-jerk. It is, however, much easier to turn around if you need to. Even though you're looking 10 metres in front of you when you're running, the short sighted can thwart you at any point because they only see the immediate landscape. NB. Walking is boring and unimaginative. Nobody likes a walker. Unfortunately there are a lot of walkers.

The Runners
When you're running you're sort of doing the job of a walker and a runner. You see, you keep one eye constantly 10 metres in front of you but you need to occasionally have a glance at your immediate landscape for obstructions that could impede your progression. When you're running it is harder to stop - there's no denying that - but you're more confident that you won't need to stop. You have more confidence than a walker because you're looking 10 metres ahead of you and because of that it's usually easier to divert an obstacle. Plus, you'll reach your destination quicker and with a sense of achievement. NB. Running is the perfect balance of risk and preparation. More people and brands need to be prepared to run, and not just talk about running.

The Sprinters
Whether you're in a car or you're sprinting yourself, a few things are consistent. You'll keep an eye on what's going on in the distance - maybe a hundred metres or more away. If you're concentrating on that for a long time you need to sometimes look away and give your eyes a rest. Focusing that far away can't be done without the occasional glance to regain focus and context. One thing's for sure if you're a sprinter - you're going to make a statement. The problem is there is more uncertainty than a runner about whether that statement will be positive or negative for you or your brand. Before you run out of fuel you'll either crash and burn or you'll collect the gold medal. Either way it makes the headlines. NB. Sprinters have a much higher rate of injuries than runners. People remember sprinters. Sprinters sell the tickets at the Olympics.

So what am I and where should brands be in this? Well, I'm a mix of a runner and a sprinter. I like to think I progress at a decent speed, but sometimes I need to take my eyes off the road and regain some focus and context on my journey. I'm prone to the occasional mild prang but I want to run faster and faster all the time.

From a brands point of view, well, it depends on the brand and what they want to achieve. They'll obviously say they're runners but we all know they're much more likely to be walkers. As marketers, though, we should be their running coaches. We need to convert the walkers into the runners. From there the sprinters will self-select themselves but it's our job to make sure that as many brands as possible don't just walk.

Walking is easy. Walking is boring. People like runners, and they love sprinters. If you're a brand and you're not Ben Johnson, you should start running.

Backpacks in the sun

The title is an homage to a fillum I watched a few years ago... a very good film, actually...

So this is the run Mr. Fegan and I partook of last Sunday:

(Map here if it doesn't show up in your feeds)

It was a really nice run. We said we fancied a good few miles, and because we hadn't done a biggish one for a while we strapped on the backpacks too... not that we're egotistical in anyway... no sireebob... About an hour and 20 it took us - but that's not including the 2 water stops we had...

The last couple of miles were only possible because we were dreaming about the huuuuge watermelon we were going to buy from the grocers near my flat. Imagine our disappointment when we got there and they had only cantaloupe's... but we bought one, took it back to the flat and proceeded to cut it open... We were literally salivating at the prospect only to open it up and find out it was off... If you've never seen two grown men with backpacks on, on the verge of tears due to lack of cantaloupe then you shuold have been in my kitchen last Sunday...

Of course at that point we made do with ice-cold magners from the fridge. Never has it tasted so sweet. There's a campaign in that - trust me. Try it. It's the most amazing liquid on earth in that situation.

Feeling good after it was turned into feeling egotistical by Mr. Fegan when it turned out he'd actually done the whole bloody run with a broken rib. He'd mentioned that he was hurting a bit, but he only went to the doctor this week. He's double hard... for an Oxfordian. I'm obviously a northerner so I have zero sympathy and I still beat him.

Aching limbs and normal limbs

I've just been discussing this with a friend at work.

I'm running quite a lot these days. I measure 'a lot' in frequency - not neccesarily distance. I run to/ from work a few times a week - that's about 3 miles each way. On top of that I'll occasionally run at the weekends. Not the distances I used to run pre-marathon, but still a good 5 - 10 miles. On top of that, when I run to and from work I have a running backpack that I load up with my clothes and stuff. This adds I guess 5 - 10kg into the mix.

My limbs are constantly aching. My legs always have that loose feeling you get after a long run. My shoulders and arms are the same - that must be from the backpack because I don't do weights or anything.

The problem is at the moment I'm like Forrest Gump. I just can't run enough. If I don't run 4 or 5 times a week I think I resemble Bella Emberg. I always want to be in my kit, iPod shuffle blaring out Queens of the Stone Age at full blast, sweating out last nights wine and thinking creatively about something. It's when I'm at my most creative. (In fact I've discussed with Mr. Fegan (my frequent running partner) how best to capture these thoughts - I can't write stuff down and I'm too breathless to dictate into a machine... any thoughts?)

The thing is, I now can't remember what it was like to not ache. I can't remember what it was like to have 'normal' limbs. How long would it take my limbs to get back to the stage where I don't feel them? At the moment I'm sat at a desk and my arms are aching from typing this. My legs are aching so much I constantly have to move them about, cross them, uncross them, stretch them out or bounce them around in time with the bass drum from the song I'm listening to.

I guess there's a question behind all of this: when does 'not normal' become 'normal?' Is it to do with frequency? My legs and arms have been like this every day for months now. Is that 'normal' to me now? Is that loose feeling you get my normal feeling now? Is normality linked to frequency?

It comes back to that age old thing - context is king. I'm sure Mr. Frith would agree.

The new run to work

Ok so I've moved to Zone 1. I work in Zone 1. What better way to get to work than running, eh readers?

I don't run every day but I'm trying to run to or from work at least a few times a week. It's only about 3 miles (sounds much better than 2.8...) but I do run it with a backpack on. I've not weighed it but I can certainly feel it on my shoulders when I take it off.

It's interesting actually as it's the first time I've ran with a backpack and your whole style changes. When I go for a run without it I notice this a lot.

So it usually takes between 21 and 23 minutes. What changes that time is traffic lights. Honestly, guv. Nothing to do with tired legs or sweating out white wine...

Me and Mr. Fegan have said we're a bit upset we haven't been on one of our long weekend runs (10 miles plus) for a while. Whilst this run is nowhere near as far as that, I do feel it so it'll have to do. For now.