My one afternoon stand with Molly

• Posted by Nick Peet at 8:21 PM | add or read comments (0)

FINALLY, I got back in the saddle this week, but my leisurely hack among the sand dunes was as far away from the thunder of the pack at Aintree as horse riding could possibly get.
Still, it was a relief to simply be holding reins at last, regardless of what was biting down on the other end of them.
After being glued to the thrills of Cheltenham a fortnight ago, however, Tuesday's trot was yet another sobering wake-up call to the challenge ahead of me.
The prospect of riding a real racehorse right now is certainly daunting to say the least.
But we all start back somewhere and for me that was among the schoolgirls and their ponies on Meols beach.
The staff at Jo Mason School of Riding at Park Lane Liveries heard my cries for help last week and kindly invited me to join one of their Easter Holiday hacks aboard big old girl, Molly.
Like in life, it was nice to start out again with the help of a female with a little bit of experience. Tall, leggy with huge eyes and massive lips and with greying hair. Safe to say that Molly was certainly of the type I usually go for.
And this old girl wasn't about to start doing any party tricks that's for sure.
She was content enough plodding along the dunes but any encouragement to break into a trot was met with a half hearted response, followed by a swift nibble at my toes.
I didn't even attempt the gallop. She certainly wasn't in the mood for any of that and after a couple of days neglecting my strict diet at the weekend I could hardly blame her.
She'd been saddled to entertain some out of shape middle aged suit, not a Frankie Dettori wannabe.
But her stubborn attitude didn't stop me from drifting off to my little fantasy world while looking out at the bitterly cold Irish Sea.
Plodding along the fringes of the beach, I couldn't help but recall the famous black and white photographs of Red Rum training on the sand over the other side of the bay back in the Seventies.
With a tiny jockey perched on his back and that famous stripy blanket, those shots are synonymous with the Grand National magician’s iconic career and, just for a second, I was there with Rummie on a swift dash along the water’s edge.
Back in the real world though, Molly's heartfelt desires lay not with the world's greatest steeplechase but, after a long winter munching hay, the lush green grass now breaking through the dunes.
But as the lads down at the gym always say, 'a rides a ride' and I think that after our leisurely two-hour ordeal was over both Molly and I were happy to go our separate ways.
A bit of a ‘one afternoon stand’.

SPECIAL WORD OF WARNING

THE big guy (or gal) upstairs enjoys nothing better than throwing down a life lesson or two just when we need it and I was handed a painful one this week.
As I sat majestically aboard my steed on Tuesday, confidence and authority growing with every step, I was shown a sign of what can happen when things go a little wrong.
Our hacking group bumped into a throng of teenage girls and their prancing ponies at the end of the dunes and we decided to walk back along the beach together.
However, one little girl, quick as a flash, ended up flat on her back with her pony on top of her after the little thing reared up and fell backwards.
Thankfully, after one or two tears, both were fine. But it was right in front of me and for a few minutes all I could think of was the damage a fully grown horse like the one I was aboard could do to me if the same thing happened.
There would be more than a few tears that's for sure.
In my current svelte condition I'd be lucky to escape with a broken leg the way they went over.
A message to the enlightened one . . . "Thanks for the sign. Duly noted."

LET'S WARM TO A BETTER DEAL

ONE thing I have noticed after losing over a stone is how cold this month has been.
Last year I can recall rolling my sleeves up and sporting shades at Aintree, but I can only imagine a sea of brollies at the festival this year.
I am wearing thermal T-shirts and vests every day now to substitute the spare tyres that I have lost, while the extra padding lost from my backside is certainly being missed.
The seat on the gym’s exercise bike now feels like it is cast out of granite, while the prospect of many more hours in the saddle has already got me reaching for the pain killers.
A pair of padded cycling shorts is definitely top of the wish list now. Along with a little sunshine.
Gym’ll fix it.

I'm running out of horse power!

• Posted by Nick Peet at 6:28 PM | add or read comments (0)

ALL the fitness training, the dieting and hard work is to no avail as the closest I have come to climbing into a saddle has been the quality time I spent with the statue of Red Rum last week.
I had hoped to get stuck into some refresher riding lessons over the next fortnight, all building towards next month when I link up with one of the country's best loved jump stables to begin my training proper.
But I seem to have fallen at the first hurdle with my horse racing challenge.
Six public stables in and around the Merseyside area were unable to accommodate me with an animal capable of supporting my even slimmed down ample frame.
Not one of the stables I’ve contacted over the last week or so could rustle up a steed willing to take yours truly on a couple of leisurely trots.
I'm only six two and, these days, coming in under 13 stone it's not like I am Andre the Giant or Big Daddy or anything.
The obvious question is, how did the equestrian world become so Fat-ist!
Where do grown men whose mid-life crisis has given them a sudden penchant to learn to ride go locally to fulfil their desires?
In three weeks time, I will be standing nose to tail with an elite racehorse. He'll be turning around, taking one look at me and thinking, "don't even think about it, soft lad."
I had hoped that a couple of weeks mixing it in the lower leagues would help me build the confidence to mutter back, "I'm your daddy now, Mr Ed!"
But having hit a brick wall in my training programme my confidence ahead of next month's horse racing challenge is at its lowest ebb.
So today I am making a public appeal to ECHO readers and stables across the region to come to my aid.
All I am after is a handful of lessons, some gentle trots and comfortable gallops to help me get back on the bike, if you know what I mean.
Hopefully, a stable or private owner can come to my rescue. over the next fortnight That way, I won't have to turn up at a professional stable not having been aboard a horse for many years.

SEEING FRUITS OF MY LABOURS

I HAD what addicts call a sobering moment on Monday when I got to the checkout at the supermarket and thought I'd walked away with someone else's trolley.
Stirring down at my goods I had to do a double take.
It was just eight weeks ago that my purchases included all the wonders of the modern world.
Frozen pizzas, Doritos, Babybell, home-made Fajita packs, cheese slices, jammie dodgers and, of course, a couple of eight packs.
But all those goodies have now firmly been replaced by what I used to describe simply as rabbit food.
There was a time I never lingered within firing distance of the fruit and veg. Now, I am squeezing melons and smelling peppers en route to filling my bags.
I didn't even venture close to the frozen section.
And after tipping the scales in the gym at the weekend at a lean, mean 12st 8lbs, at least my weight issues are in control, even if my racing training programme failed to clear the first fence!

IN THE SWIM TO STEP UP FITNESS

THE opening of the new Olympic size 50 metre swimming pool in Wavertree is going to go a long way with my fitness training for the rest of the year and also training for challenge number six.
Olympic champion Steve Parry may have few qualms about our race across the River Mersey in August, but it's fair to say that I have already had one or two sleepless nights, as well as much ribbing from friends, regarding the tidal swim.
I wasn't a bad little swimmer as a kid, but these days the only time I ever take a dip is during my two-week summer holiday or on the odd occasion I pluck up the courage to suck the belly in at the gym.
I am sure getting to grips with the city's finest new leisure facility will help take my fitness up another level.
Nothing beats swimming when it comes to cardio training, and I am also looking forward to testing my nerves by diving off the high board as well!

Reality starting to bite on 08 dream

• Posted by Nick Peet at 9:49 AM | add or read comments (0)

REALITY bit down hard on Sunday. It creeped up behind me, just when I was starting to get a little cocky, and took a huge chunk out of my rear end.

The next 11 months may, on the face of it, represent a fairytale of sporting oportunity, but, let’s face facts, it's going to be tough. Really tough.

Through my entire life I have played sport for the enjoyment of it. I try to play with a smile on my face (although the lads on the football pitch will disagree) and I participate because I love it.

That's something that has grown with me from childhood. Back to the old jack of all sports, master of none shortcoming.

And it's always been about the fun of the game and, in the first instance at least, that was supposed to be the whole point of my 08 Challenge.

To take part in all these events at the highest possible level and to have the time of my life in the process. To not only challenge myself but to take advantage of the unique position I was in.

To utilise the contacts I've made over the past decade covering sport on Merseyside to live the dream of competing just like a professional sportsman.

But, I have to confess, somewhere between miles 11, 12 and 13 during the Liverpool Half Marathon on Sunday the charm of the challenge was replaced by pain, suffering an almost overwhelming desire to crawl back behind my Press pass.

I wasn't smiling and joking around with my mates. I was alone, committed to a task that I certainly wasn't in love with.

Over the last few weeks I'd fooled myself with the enormity of the challenge I've set myself this year.

On Sunday things started to get ugly and it was my first real insight into sport at the highest level. It certainly isn't always about fun.

It's about digging deep, relying on the work you've put in during training, and getting the job done to the best of your ability.

Forget about the fact that around 80% of the field in Sunday's half marathon are fun runners, people running for charity or just for the hell of it, it's also used by a fair sprinkling of serious athletes as a part of their domanding athletics season.

And that's not only athletes from Liverpool, but from across the country and indeed the world.

Now I know why. Even half marathons are not for the faint-hearted.

I accept my time can hardly be called competitive, but to have finished in little more than two hours after just four weeks of training is something I am definitely proud of.

I've lived and trained like a serious athlete for a month and dropped the best part of a stone in body weight while also sending my fitness levels through the roof.

My Great 08 Challenge then is now in full swing.

But athletics was always going to be a tough start for me.

When school sports days rolled around you'd always find young Master Peet circling the high jump or javelin traps.

I've never been much of a runner. Neither has anyone in my family. I guess my clan was built for speed rather than stamina.

Plus, having bow legs and flat feet was never going to help either.

But what the athletics challenge has certainly done is set me up for the next 11 months of competition.

My fitness is probably at its strongest since I was a teenager and will only improve while my new roadwork regime will form the backbone of my training programme for the rest of the year.

I am under starter’s orders . . . roll on challenge number two.

Half Marathon video

• Posted by Nick Peet at 10:34 AM | add or read comments (0)

Click to view the Half Marathon Video

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Toughest test of my life!

• Posted by Nick Peet at 7:07 AM | add or read comments (0)

YOU just can’t argue with science.
As fossils confirm that dinosaurs once walked the earth and evolution explains how man grew from ape – my blood tests stated that I would never break the two hour barrier in yesterday’s Liverpool Half Marathon.
And so it proved.
My finishing time of two hours nine minutes was the very best I could have mustered, believe me. I’ve got the throbbing thighs to prove it.
Admittedly, 2:08 was probably on the cards in the closing stages, only I slowed down inside the last mile to chat up a struggling brunette.
But apart from that brief respite I was going flat out from start to finish.
Exercise physiologist George Wilson did all the tests last week and he advised me to stick to a heart rate of 161bpm before kicking in for the last mile in order to achieve my best time.
However, with my old pal Jack Walker – a veteran of the 13.1 mile race – alongside me it was inevitable that I would have to run at a much quicker pace to give myself a chance at my original target.
Nine minute miles would just about work, but after completing the first half of the course that time quickly began to slip away.

My pacemaker insisted we up the pace, but with my heart now pushing 171bpm, I knew that the excess lactic acid in my blood stream would be eating away at my strength.
The course was also a gruelling one.
Last year there were plenty of long straight runs to open the legs, but this year the course was forced to change and it left the near 4,000 strong field to do laps around south Liverpool.
It seemed like every time I caught a glimpse of Sefton Park – home to the start/finish line – the course veered away again, either round Princes Park, up Queens Drive or in and out of the park itself.
I had planned to save a little in the tank for the last mile or so and, believe me, the sight of that giant yellow 12 mile marker was like catching a glimpse of the Victoria’s Secret models’ changing rooms.
But while the head was willing the legs, from the hips down, were simply running on empty.
I’ve played extra time in cup matches and even competed in other sports for much longer than two hours straight.
But fatigue has never caught up with me as quickly as in this run.

One minute I was striding down Duke Street flirting with a group of nurses.
The next I was fighting back the tears as the course again turned away from the finish line.
I’d been advised to carry a packet of wine gums for a little sugar kick along the route, but by the last mile I was too exhausted even to chew!
By the 10 mile marker Jack suggested we target a much more reasonable two hours eight minutes target – which also doubled as being the ideal time for my Great 08 opener.
However, the final few miles sucked the life from my legs.
My lower back and neck were starting to feel as battered as my legs, while though my nose was running like a broken tap, my saliva glands had given up a couple of miles before.
In the end it quickly became just a matter of getting through it.
But I never stopped. I never walked and of that, at least, I am proud of myself.
Two finish just seconds outside of the 2.08 barrier was, initially, disappointing, but that soon changed when I saw friends and family overjoyed with the mere fact that I had finished the race.
In hindsight, to have gone from you average couch potato, playing five-a-side once a week, an out of shape sports hack to finishing a half marathon in just four weeks gives me a great sense of achievement.

And also a new respect for distance runners.
Hats off to anyone who has ever completed a full marathon. That’s an unbelievable human feat – and one that you only really appreciate when you have had a taste of it.
Competition marathon runners must have unbelievable fitness and an incredible dedication to put their bodies through that regularly. In fact, let’s not beat about the bush here, they must be nuts!
So, now terribly sore but with a few quid in the bank for the Liverpool Unites campaign, I am happy.
Happy to have finished the longest and toughest sporting challenge of my life (so far) and also happy to have kicked my Great 08 Challenge off with a convincing performance.
That’s one down . . . seven to go.
* Don’t miss my Great 08 Challenge column in the ECHO on Thursday for the inside track and aftermath pain from my half marathon achievement.

Defiance in the face of science

• Posted by Nick Peet at 11:11 AM | add or read comments (0)

SCIENTIFICALLY it can’t be done – but then didn’t they first say that about putting a man on the moon; splitting the atom and enhancing breasts with silicone?
According to science I am unable to complete my first challenge in the time I have set myself.
Running 13.1 miles in under two hours may be a doddle for some seasoned runners, but for me the science states the facts and right now I’m simply not fit enough to achieve it.
At my final pre-race medical with exercise physiologist George Wilson on Tuesday the facts brought home a heavy truth.
Yes, I had lost the best part of 10lbs; yes, I am certainly fitter than I was four weeks ago and I have cut my body fat percentage down to 16% – but I’m still not quite fit enough to make 13.1 miles in under 120 minutes.
Now, 128 minutes, that’s a different matter and that is exactly what my body says I am capable of.
After going through a rigorous treadmill test, where I gave a blood sample and had my heart rate monitored every two minutes as I steadily increased the speed, George was able to do a full breakdown of my optimum working level.
When your body starts producing too much lactic acid ( four millimoles) the muscles tire and before long the curtains get drawn.
So, the idea with this test was to discover my optimum workrate that operates just under that point and, for me, that is when my heart is pumping at 161bpm.
My body told me that if I keep up a steady pace at that heart rate – around 10km per hour – then I should complete 12.2 miles of Sunday’s Liverpool Half Marathon in exactly two hours.
But that will still leave me with ¾ of a mile to go.
Mission impossible then?
However, all is not lost, and what all the tests and sports science in the world cannot possibly predict is that for the last mile or so I am going to leg it!
Not surprisingly, George doesn’t share my optimism.
“All I can recommend is that you stick to your 161bpm heart rate otherwise you’ll tire so fast that you think you’ve been shot – that’s a promise,” he stated, like a granddad warning a little boy to stay off the train tracks.
“If you stay at your optimum level, and then get on your toes, really empty your locker, in the last mile – when it won’t matter how much lactic acid you’re producing – then you may finish in around two hours and eight minutes.
“But, if I am honest, you’re going to struggle to do it in under two.”
Crestfallen, I need help.
So I’ve roped in a couple of friends to help me achieve the seemingly unachievable.
Liverpool’s leading Olympic track star and Merseyside athlete of the year, Michael Rimmer, says that the big occasion should carry me along, but also warned against starting too quickly.
The Southport track star, Team GB’s number one 800m runner, started too quickly in the semi-finals of the World Championships in Japan last summer, and ended up watching the final from the stands.
He said: “The bigger the occasion the better you will usually run. I know that’s often the case with me. But it gets to you.
“I got carried away with thinking I would have to run faster than I actually did out in Osaka. I’m not a front runner but the adrenaline got to me and I decided to go for it.
“I was confident I could hold it but doing it in front of 50,000 with the Olympic champion running you down is a different matter to doing it in training.
“I was running scared and over the last 200m I was just waiting for them to pass me. With all that nervous energy I tightened up.
“If I had just sat with the pack I’m sure I would have qualified.
“That’s what you have to do. Stay with the pack and then push on in the closing stages and that’s how you will achieve your best time.”
I’ll also have my old mate Jack Walker, who has run the Liverpool Half Marathon twice in the past, including finishing last year’s in under two hours, alongside me and ready to push me over the finish line.
But what I also need is ECHO readers to get behind me as well.
If you’re planning on watching a friend or family member pound the pavement this Sunday then please give me a cheer and help me attempt to prove that anything is possible with a little hard work.

Curry and pizza setback – but I’m still in the running

• Posted by Nick Peet at 11:09 AM | add or read comments (0)

TALK about falling off the wagon . . . I was elbows deep in naan bread and curry at the weekend!
Shedding 10lbs in my first three weeks clearly went straight to my head. On Friday night I kicked back with a rewarding home-made chicken balti.
The ingredients were practically all on my diet list – chicken breast, vegetables, rice – but I think the old stir-in sauce was a definite no-no.
And if that wasn't bad enough, after a crazily busy day on Saturday, I really let my guard down and polished off a sweet chilli chicken pizza!
What can I say? I just had to get my cheese fix before the cold turkey killed me.
It was only a frozen one I found nestling under a bag of veg in the bottom of the freezer, but still it can't have been good for my weight loss programme.
Needless to say, I felt rather bloated by the time the birds started singing on Sunday morning – but I still managed to tackle the biggest run of my life so far when I sailed through a surprisingly comfortable nine-miler.
The time, 90 minutes, was hardly electric but I felt strong to the end and didn't even have to take a planned water break at a shop along the way.
Running nine miles is something I never even imagined before I started this challenge.
I mean, seriously, why would you?
But I think I am slowly getting the jogging bug and it really helps clear the head from the stresses of daily life.
I was putting the world to rights on Sunday while I was plodding past the Garden Festival site.
It's just a shame that I didn't have a pen at hand or there may well have been a sequel to War and Peace in the pipeline.

Ideal remedies for pain game

• Posted by Nick Peet at 11:08 AM | add or read comments (0)

I DECIDED to be safe rather than sorry and opted for another session of acupuncture on Monday night, just to take some of the tension and strain out of my throbbing shins.
After completely ruining a couple of runs last week, I made sure they have been well stretched since and so far (touch wood) they've been spot on.
I also took advantage of the fact that my dad is also my physio and got a full massage on my thighs and calves in the process meaning that – for a day or two at least – I was feeling in top shape.
This week I've been tapering down my activities, just sticking to a circuits session at Bridge Road gym in the morning, and throwing in just a handful of short runs at night.
And I also cut back on my carbs at the start of the week, sticking to meat, fish and salads before heading into 72 hours of pure bread, potatoes and pasta from today.
Carbing up . . . I can't wait.

My Running Tunes

• Posted by Nick Peet at 11:05 AM | add or read comments (0)

THE GREAT 08 CHALLENGE

BLOG: Jogging Music
DECENT tunes are vital during training I've discovered.
So here's my top 40 jogging tunes, straight off my iPod . . . what do you think?
1)The Automatic – Monster
2)Hey Ya! – Andre 3000
3)Help! - The Beatles
4)Where is the Love? – Black Eyed Peas
5)Dammit or The Rock Show – Blink 182
6)My Favourite Game – The Cardigans
7)Clocks – Coldplay
8)This Is For Real – David Devant & His Spirit Wife
9)Good Enough – Dodgy
10) Just The Way I'm Feeling – Feeder
11) Go Your Own Way – Fleetwood Mac
12) Times Like These or Breakout – Foo Fighters
13) Hate To Say I Told You So – The Hives
14) Worried About Ray – The Hoosiers
15) Always On Time – Ja Rule feat Ashanti
16) Livin' It Up – Ja Rule feat Case
17) Sit Down – James
18) Cosmis Girl – Jamiroquai
19) Are You Gonna Be My Girl or Rollover DJ – Jet
20) Everyday I Love You Less And Less – Kaiser Chiefs
21) Stronger or Good Life – Kanye West
22) Is It Any Wonder? or Crystal Ball – Keane
23) Somebody Told Me – The Killers
24) Naive – The Kooks
25) Mama Said Knock U Out – LL Cool J
26) Valerie – Mark Ronson feat Amy Winehouse
27) Mo Money Mo Problems – Mace, Puff Daddy and Notorious BIG
28) Thriller -Michael Jackson
29) The Time Is Now – Miloko
30) No Tomorrow – Orson
31) Just – Radiohead
32) In The Morning – Razorlight
33) Around The World – Red Hot Chili Peppers
34) She's So Lovely – Scouting For Girls
35) The Bartender And The Thief – Stereophonics
36) Fat Lip or In Too Deep – Sum 41
37) Tribute – Tenacious D
38) Kill The Director or Let's Dance to Joy Division – The Wombats
39) Cosmik Debris – Frank Zappa
40) Are You Gonna Go My Way – Lenny Kravitz