There’s an article in this week’s New Scientist about a pair of shoes they’ve designed for use in microgravity (space shoes, if you will).

Recently Asics also featured on an installment of Discovery Channel’s How Its Made; showing the multi-stage production process of their running shoes, as well as the more TV friendly task of dropping an egg from 30 feet up onto a 1 inch thick mat (made of the special shock-proof gel that goes into their shoes); the egg landed on it’s side, but didn’t break.

On that program they showed the first ever pair of running shoes that Asics made over 50 years ago. What struck me immediately upon seeing the space shoes is how similar they are to the “1953 Marathon Tabi”.

In 50 years, the materials technology may have improved to the point where an egg doesn’t break when subjected to 30 feet of gravity, but take gravity out of the equation and much of the subsequent inventions become irrelevant: the shoes go back to square one (albeit with more breathable, multi-layered construction).

Last year, Geth and Sam had come down from Birmingham ’cause Sam had an entry, so we all went out the night before, had several bottles of wine and laughed at Sam for having to abstain. The next morning, for some inexplicable reason, I decided I’d accompany sam, and we completed the course one second under 100 minutes.

This year I was planning on manning a water station, but just over a week before the race I was offered a place by one of Em’s volleyball team mates, who had entered the race before the years volleyball fixtures were published. They clashed. So I got the benefit.

Three things went my way on the morn of the race. Firstly, local knowledge meant I was able to avoid the traffic that was trying to get to Southsea. Secondly, having a Smart Car meant I could find a parking spot outside of the traffic melee but very close to the race. Thirdly, being a veteran of three Great North Runs, a London Marathon and a couple of other races, I now have a good idea of where to stand at the start to get a good time.

I made my way towards the orange zone, which was the first wave of runners to be let through the start, and was bimbling through there when I heard clive shout my name, or more precidely, when I heard clive shout “Bloody hell Rich what are you doing up there?” A reference to the fact that I was mingling rather close to the elite runners. Clive was inspired and joined me. We ended up with quite a few Portsmouth Joggers in a little huddle. and when the gun went, it took us only 14 seconds to cross the start.

The race itself, well, I could write about it, but that’s just plodding really. It was nice to run past HMS Victory, and for the record, I think the course differed from last year because it seemed to go further along Winston Churchill Avenue, but after that it was a plod. Mat’s mate Nuk caught up with me as we passed the Natural History Museum, so we chatted for a minute or so, and before i knew it, it was the last mile and I was pushing for home.

So, my time. A new personal best, hurrah! (although based on last year’s run I’d have had to drink a fair bit the night before to avoid a PB! And by dint of the borrowed number, my benefactor became the nineth fastest female runner (erm… sorry to other female veteran runners who have a lower position because of this – the good news is that you can take one away from your race position)

Our club (Portsmouth Joggers) put on a good show, entering several teams; we entered with Clive and Emma (the same Clive who supplied me with choccy biscuits 1/2 way round the london marathon, and the same Emma who ran it with us).

Of the four sections, Clive started, and it was a nice clear dry morning. The Emma ran, and it was dryish, but a bit showery, then my Emma ran, and it rained, then I ran, and it poured (hence the umbrellas in the later photo’s).

This was the first time Em and I chose to run apart – we’ve done it for the experience before now, but on this event we (well, I) wanted to see how fast I could run it. I was hoping to get under two hours, so my finish time of 1:51:51 was pleasing. My previous pb was the same as Em’s at around 2:20, so I knocked a good 30 mins off it.

Em also managed a pb, cutting her time down by 10 minutes so she came in at 2:10. This is a great confidence boost because before the race em didn’t think she’d be able to get near her time for last October’s Great North Run.

The official photographer (from PPA Group) missed Emma as she ran by, but that’s ok, ’cause after finishing I had time to get my bag and camera, so the one of me is by the official guy, and the ones of em are by me.

Lisa came down tonight to give us a guaranteed-pain-free massage. Very relaxing, but oddly, somewhat lacking. When you’re used to “pain + gain” deep massage, the common (or garden) Swedish massage, aimed purely at comfort is just dull.

The benefit is still there, blood flow to the muscles is stimulated, fat deposits (what little there is left) are jiggled and made more accessible, and the body is quietly primed for action – but it’s just not the same without the demonic “oh! what have I found here?” as Lisa discovers and then mercilessly attacks knots and other muscular oddities.

But hey, I can’t complain, I’m too relaxed

In other news, I spoke to Guy from the Portsmouth evening newspaper today. Guy’s running the Marathon in a rhino suit, and is also writing a piece about other Portsmouth runners, so we’ll hopefully be meeting a photographer tomorrow and thus get the MSRC a mention in the local paper. Raising awareness of the MSRC is as important as direct fundraising, so this is fantastic news.

This was to be the last session before the marathon, and with two weeks before the big day there was still time for any bruising to heal, so Lisa was kind enough to really get stuck into my muscles with a deep pressure-point workout.

I know I mentioned this before, but it’s worth saying it again; this is not like a Swedish massage, this is like mild torture, the kind which a movie bad-guy with a conscience would use on the hero in order to prove that their pain-giver really does have the potential to inflict proper pain, thereby forcing the hero to tell all, without actually causing them too much damage so that they can still save the day at the end of the movie. It’s the kind of thing that makes you squirm to watch.

We had a nice curry afterwards, and I (honestly) accidentally ordered a hot one for Lisa. HA HA HA HA HA HA.

Lisa the physio is around later too – so I have to do lots of stretching today to help keep the pain down tonight!

Extra! A big thanks to everyone who’s sponsored us so far – we’ve just broken the £1000 barrier! If we weren’t in training for a marathon this would be worth cracking open a bottle of fizz… we’ll have a drink to your health in late April.

Circuits first, then the run immediately after. Most enjoyable. This evening we have Lisa the physio popping around too, so it’s a full day.

Lisa the Fizz has now been and as a result I’m considering inverting the colour scheme for this page so that normal training days show up in green and physio days show up in red – red for warning, red for danger.

Sports therapy hurts! Some say it’s good pain; I say it’s [a] just pain. In this case the justification is a long forecast bet that I can avoid more pain in future by having it in little bits now. It seems I’ve not fully imparted the “little bits” part of that message to Lisa yet.

The main outcome, apart from the pain & resulting benefits, is a few extra stretches that we should be doing post exercise in order to keep the muscles supple. What surprised me most was the back stretches which involve what I’d have thought would be a back compression, but which apparently stretch it – I’ll give a more full report after the next circuit class when I’ve had a chance to try them out properly.