Here follows a rant – you have been warned.
My bloody husband has just informed me that he’s got a place in the London Marathon via some charity or other. There are eight weeks to go, and not to put too fine a point on it, he’s an overweight, middle-aged bloke who drinks too much and hasn’t done any training to speak of. Oooh, a perfect recipe for a coronary if ever I heard of one.
He did the London Marathon once before, about four years ago, and I was worried sick about him in the weeks leading up to it, and in a terrible state on the day itself. Mainly because he didn’t train properly.
Between now and the Marathon, we have three weekends away. He is also running the bloody bloody hotel still,so is tearing up and down the country like a lunatic, as well as his own business (which is so busy that I’m working there almost full time at the moment as well as doing my other two jobs, and loads of eBaying as well). So, where’s the training gonna fit in? Answer: I don’t suppose it is.
Example of his extreme stupidity: for the last several weeks, he has been on a “diet”, which has consisted of not eating anything all day every day (just drinking coffee), and then having a small vegetarian meal in the evening with two or three glasses of red wine. No matter how many times I’ve explained the utter ridiculousness of this, he doesn’t listen, and just carries on his own sweet way.
And just to put the icing on the cake, William and I can’t even go and spend the marathon weekend at my parents’ so I’m not by myself worrying all weekend, as they are going up to London to watch my brother running the marathon (who’s been following a rigorous training programme to the letter since early November).
I’ve just rung the charity who gave Ashley the place, and asked them if they really think it’s acceptable to offer places in a 26 mile running race to overweight, unfit people, with only eight weeks to train, in return for a payment of £1,200 to their charity. They said they’d have to speak to their manager and get back to me.