Not the Royal Wedding

Not being the monarchy's biggest fan and being a fully paid-up member of the Grumpy Old Gits Society, I shall not be spending my additional day off work glued to the TV watching today's pantomime, nor shall I be attending any street party or equivalent celebration (largely due to to the fact that I haven't been invited to any).

Instead I intend beginning the long and winding road back to being a superfit athlete (or at least to not being a sedentary lard-arse).

Recent attempts at getting in shape have amounted to very little. I did, however, manage a few early morning jogs along Holmes Beach on Anna Maria Island in Florida last week with seagulls circling above (or were they vultures?), but with another Touch Rugby 'season' on the imminent horizon I have little choice but to shake off the jet lag and venture forth to the unfamiliar environs of the gym.

Desperate times and all that...

Pre-Season training?

Good to see that Gavin Henson is taking pre-season training seriously!

It looks very much like he's adopting the Total Flanker "Drink Yourself Fit" approach, which is more or less how July and August have progressed for me so far. I have had the excuse of having had a trapped nerve in my neck/shoulder (which no amount of quaffing has shifted) but if I'm honest I have to admit that I've been a complete and utter lazy bar steward.

Still, I now have just over one month until our first fixture (Fullerians away) this season so getting my finger out has to be a priority now...

Final touch and momentous news

Leaving my thoughts of the Lions aside for a while longer yet...

Last week was the final week of the Chesham/Mid Bucks Touch Rugby League and, true to form, the Chairman's Stags maintained our 100% record with a 7-4 defeat to the inappropriately named "Old Gitonians" - inappropriate because their team appeared to be dominated by young things who had yet to experience the joys of shaving.

Given that we turned up at the start with 4 players and had to borrow a few more for a quorum to be established, the team's performance was quite reasonable under the circumstances. For my own part I had plenty of playing time, worked hard and created a few chances but suffered once again from a lack of acceleration and, on this occasion, from having hands like spades.

One thing I have noticed is that this summer the general standard has been far higher than in previous years. In past summers there have one or two very good teams, one or two decent teams and quite a few who could best be described as "pedestrian". Our team this year would certainly have won 2 or 3 games in previous years but we've struggled largely because all of the other teams this year have been very well drilled and we've been somewhat shambolic. Perhaps there's a lesson there to be learned...

Of more alarming news is that, rather than carrying on for a few weeks playing social touch rugby, the 1st XV captain's plan appears to be to start pre-season training this Tuesday. That's pre-season training...in June. I think I can safely say that I'm not quite ready for that just yet.

What I am ready for is the momentous news that, after a thorough selection process (I was asked, I said yes) I have been appointed to the role of Club Webmaster, which (aside from the Spiderman outfit) means that the good folks of Chesham Rugby Club will also have to suffer my inane drivel on the club website.

Lucky, lucky people.

Cool Runner?

Warning: There follows a post which is entirely non-rugby related...

I woke up this morning, pulled back the curtains and, with the sun streaming in through the windows, thought: "What a beautiful day for driving to Berkshire to compete in the Wargrave 10km charity road race."

Actually that's not quite true. The only word that leapt into my mind when I saw the weather this morning was (knowing what was ahead of me): "Bugger."

Let's get one thing straight - at my current fighting weight of over 16 stone I am SO not built for distance running. If I'm honest, even when my physique has been a little more svelt, pounding the roads for mile after mile has never been one of my more favourite pursuits. Eight years ago I did train my arse off for 3 months so that I could run the London Marathon - but, whereas there are those who are inspired to go back and run marathons year after year, I have stuck to my vow of "never again" with the utmost dedication - the problem being that, in the intervening 8 year period, I have taken the vow to such an extreme that I've done precious little road running at all, and certainly nothing on a regular basis.

So, when it was mooted at work that we put together a team of runners for this little event I thought "why not?" That was some 4 months ago - plenty of time to get out there and do some serious roadwork and get myself in shape, I thought. Then in the blink of an eye there were 3 months to go, then 2, then 1 and before I knew it there were 2 weeks left, by which time it was fairly pointless to begin any serious training. That's not to say I'd done nothing - a few sporadic runs, a bit of circuit training and plenty of touch rugby meant that I was deluded enough to think I'd be fine.

As things turned out, and somewhat unsurprisingly, it was bloody hard work. The consensus was that the 7km to 8km bit was quite tough - but, with the heat and the hills and the fact that it felt like I was pulling along a giant tyre behind me, my conclusion was that the 1km to 10km stretch was the probably worst part.

In the end I finished in just under 1 hour and 10 minutes which, given the pace at which I plod, I was relatively pleased with. Afterwards I was handed various leaflets advertising various forthcoming 10km and half-marathon races which have found their way, unread, into the recycling bin.

Would I do it again? You know what, I probably would.