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Peral de Arlanza to Valle de Cerato 28 miles Time on road 8hrs 12mins 31secs
Distance covered 792 miles 483 miles to go. Marathon 453.
Today has been the quietest of the trip so far. The mornings start on the N622 was a silent affair. It took the best part of an hour to see my first car of the day. But it had only taken five minutes to see an ostrich. The national bird of Spain (yes I know it‘s not, but bear with it). It was actually a farm in the middle of nowhere, with about 20 of the feathered lovelies wondering what was looking back at them over the double thickness 2m high fence. The thought of Ostrich for dinner tonight did cross my mind, but eating it for the next 17 days in Ostrich quiche and even Ostrich custard quickly changed my mind. Anyway our oven and fridge would never cope.
Back to the route…and the desertion just carried on. Off the N622 with its new sections of road and bridges over torrents swollen with the recent rain and it was a turn left after 8 miles to go over a succession of hill, plain, hills. In the hour up to lunch time, road dog had sheltered under a tree, from the day’s heat reading a book. In that time he said he hadn’t see a car, but that he had seen more than 20 tractors. From this in depth research I’ve gathered that the family car in these parts isn’t a Seat but really a John Deere or Massey Ferguson plus trailer for the family.
The tractors didn’t bother us again. Nothing did. The solitude of the miles across the plain proved very relaxing. I’m sure that stress does not play much of a part in people’s lives here. I stopped just outside Valdecanos de Campos and just sat looking at the beauty of the village and its surroundings. A fortunate view which I photographed for my album. Then just as I carried on a very loud pre-recorded chime blasted out 4pm from the church clock tower. The tinny Bontempi Organ sound cut through the quiteness like a boxing glove. As I left the valley it also went off at quarter past. Maybe there is stress here after all!
I rallied on and Sara and Road Dog caught me up and provided a welcome last hour of the day Diet Coke. The scenery of rounded chalk escarpments (Toff Holland my old Geography teacher would be proud of me) carried on until the end of the day. I eventually reached the Crewbus at the top of yet another massive hill. Although in reality I had been at over 2000ft all day and the last climb had been only about 500ft. (felt like Everest)
Anyway with the days run over and my back getting better, I have the new worry of an aching left shin, the thought of putting my feet up tonight is most welcoming.
Thanks to old school chums Micheal Cranke for the message and donation today, and words of encouragement from David Cox. Cheers guys.
More tomorrow from Valladolid.
Valle de Cerato to Caberzon de Pisuerga 28 miles Time on road 8hrs 35mins 40secs
Distance covered 820 miles 455 miles to go. Marathon 454.
As the alarm went off at 05.45hrs (04.45hrs your side), my brainwave of starting very early (so that we could have a longer rest over at the hotel in Valladolid tonight), felt Brain Less. In recent years, I had only dreamed such times existed. Since marrying SarahJane I have trained only a couple of times in the morning, my motto being ‘why leave a lovely warm woman in bed to go out and run around rainy Long Eaton?’ Yet here I was scrambling for my clothes in the pitch black. An oversight as last night I didn’t even realise that it would be dark over here at this time. Luckily for me, Sara in the princess suite and Road Dog, amidships snoozed on…it’s hard enough to get them going at 9am so me clattering around didn’t seem to bother them one bit.
I just went out to the start with odd socks, and my England Shirt on inside out and back to front. I remembered the camera and the phone as well as the map so I did reasonably well I suppose. I took a photo of myself at the start, and one of my watch so I could prove the time of departure. With that I ran in the cold air and into the darkness of the now breaking dawn. I must say that it was a magical and invigorating couple of hours. It was over two hours until I saw my first person of the day. Moving that is, and three for my first car. At 08.15 Clare from BBC Radio Derby rang, she got the first interview of the day underway by putting me through to the Andy Whittaker Breakfast Show. We’re like old mates now and he catches up with me every week. Last week it was in Zarrautz, the place with the great beach, it feels like it was a lifetime ago!
The crew caught me up at around halfway for lunch at 10am. A strange experience at that time of day. I had spent most of the early morning amidst now slightly yellowing barley fields, up and down the massive chalk escarpments which I spoke of yesterday. The Crewbus was my third vehicle of the day! Yet just before they got to me I went along one piece of road with no less than 5 ‘no overtaking’ signs in 400m. In my simple logic, I worked out that you need three cars to be in one stretch of road at one moment in time with two going the same way, for there to be a problem. With three cars in four hours, to my mind that the possibility of a crash happening is impossible. I will have to advise the local authority.
In Cubillias de Cerrato, I asked an elderly chap which way to Valoria la Buena as there were no direction signs in the village. (Stacks of ‘no overtaking’ ones though). He rattled on in Spanish and pointed using his stick to a dirt track. I said thanks and motored on. He kept with me for a bit then said something like Aqua and dropped behind, bent double breathing very heavily. When I finally saw the road it turned right, that’s what he must have been worried about. I turned, we then waved to each other and he then turned around and went back to the village. Great of him to show me the way, not so great I nearly killed him. I’ll make a note to do some Spanish classes when I get back or future reference.
Now, what about the bad back/shin. My friend David Turnbull phoned this morning for an update. He said that his wife was most worried about my shin. Well Rachel, it’s a lot better thanks, and I’ll be soon be back to lead David astray. Backs fine. Thanks for the encouragement David and the weather forecast prediction for the Grand Union 145 mile Race this weekend (Rain as usual!) which we did together in 2001. My best wishes go to all of you taking part in my favourite race. Shame I’m not there, but I have 455 miles to do here first, and a bath awaits…yippee. More tomorrow.
Best
Luis
Caberzon de Pisuerga to Serrada 29 miles Time on road 5hrs 30mins 37secs
Distance covered 849 miles 426 miles to go. Marathon 455.
Yes, look at the bold type again. 5hrs 30mins and 37seconds. A Personal Best for the trip. Nothing to do with my lovely wife SarahJane coming out today for the first time in two weeks (much), but I just got into the groove today and went for it. Surprising after a late night out in Valladolid. A Nottingham of Spain. Lots of nightlife with women to men ratio of loads to few. Road dog’s face a picture. A bit like Dracula in a blood bank. I actually bailed out of the nightlife at midnight and went back to a comfy hotel bed. The Piranha Kids plus my children went merrily on till dawn. (How do they do that?).
With the alarm call of someone in the next room, not one of ours I hasten to add, throwing up, it was off to the start in Caberzon. Dan from Piranha Kid accompanied me for the first couple of miles, so that he could get a Rory’s Eye view of the road. Picture quickly gained amidst comments on the closeness of the traffic, he retired sweating to the comfort of the Crewbus. I continued on…
Into the city of Valladolid and I already knew it was not going to be an easy one to navigate. I knew also that the crewbus would never find me in the narrow streets so there would be no elevenses or lunch today. So the only thing to do was to go for it. Into the centre, with Burgos blind faith to buy a street map (2€ best buy of trip) and a can of Orange Fanta for all of today’s nutrition.
With newly acquired mini Cross of St. George I received lots of comments, some encouraging from the locals. I ran amongst the cars and ran fast (for me) across the city. Dodging a Vitoria type barrier across the whole of a dual carriageway, though a junior basketball tournament (with kids 6ft high at 10yrs old it looked) and a park, I was out on the C610 towards Serrada. Sara and the Road dog caught me up for a quick Diet Coke break at 13.00hrs before they went to get Lady Coleman from the airport, and I managed to get to within 4 miles of end the days run.
With a flurry of flashing headlights and then a blur of red hair and choppers, Mr and Mrs Coleman were reunited. Then, with me telling Sarah ‘to quickly get changed if she was coming with me because I was on a PB today’ we were off hand in hand through our own localised twister on the top of one of the hills (great experience) to the finish in Serrada. What a day. I wonder how quickly I’ll run tomorrow?
Serrada to Villar 28 miles Time on road 8hrs 11mins 49secs
Distance covered 877 miles 398 miles to go. Marathon 456.
Now to most people reading this 877 miles will not have any significance. But if you were going from John O’Groats to Land’s End you would be three miles out to sea. That’s a real landmark or is that Seamark anyway, with just under 400 miles to go the feat seems to becoming more into focus, and as the big match is now only two weeks away. Today has had its ups and downs, especially with the Lady Coleman in tow.
We started off in very relaxed style with me in front and SarahJane tucked in behind. The first two cars that passed beeped her. (I was surprised in her tiny shorts). It was pretty hot already to say the least and both of us plastered in P20 Sun Protection cream and carrying extra water to combat the dehydration from all of yesterdays exertions.
Our romantic hotel dinner last night had been a strange delight that had been prepared by a Spanish Atkins dietician. Both of our courses had been of just meat, without vegetables or potatoes of any quantity. The salted ham had welded my tongue to the top of my mouth this morning an had taken a litre of water to get it going again (funnily Mrs C. never suffered). Anyway we quickly reached our first town of the day, La Seca. Here an open shop with cold cans of orange Fanta, and fresh bananas did for elevenses. In the heat of midday we soldiered on.
The ancient town of Medina del Campo, had a magnificent castle, where we took some more shots for the PR album. The less inviting surrounding town had proved less inviting but was a lot better than the grill pan that was awaiting us. I say grill pan as I’ve become pretty accustomed to the heat now. For Mrs C. fresh in from Long Eaton, where they are still in winter overcoats it was providing a bit of a culture shock. She was already showing signs of lobster redness where she had missed with the P20. And after cutting herself on a thistle, getting sharp seeds in her socks and having hands the size of goalkeeping gloves from dehydration, things weren’t looking so good. With the added benefit now of two juicy blisters on her feet, she finally gave up bravely at 22 miles with a ‘That’s it Coleman’.
I tried to blast out the final six miles and my energy levels just lasted the day out. I ran to finish by another castle in Madrigal de las Atlas Torres. Now safely resting at a more familiar campsite, with Egg and Chips menu it’s time for dinner and then time to spend rebuilding Mrs C. for tomorrow.
Villar to La Curda 28 miles Time on road 7hrs 49mins 02secs
Distance covered 905 miles 370 miles to go. Marathon 457.
Weather, Scorchio! Very, very, scorchio! The rebuilt Mrs C accompanied me for the first thirteen miles today. Surprising really as last night her feet had been the subject of a madman (me) armed with a sawn off hypodermic needle and lashings of the dreaded Iodine. Amazing how much it doesn’t hurt when it’s not your feet. A few expletives from Mrs C and the odd tear later and she was ready for the day. I did adapt her shoes with a pair of scissors to make them a bit more comfy and with that we were off.
Her sunburn from yesterday soon returned in an area of her left arm where she had missed with the P20 again. I made a makeshift sleeve using her hat and my camera strap, it looked strange (so did she) but did the trick. Anyway back to the conditions. It was like the Sahara in heat whilst being on an airport runway of a road that went on and on with a hairdryer on full heat in one‘s face. The first bend of the day was after 15 miles. Here we caught up Road dog and Sara for cold drinks. Here also Mrs C threw in the towel. I’m glad she did because unnecessary for her to get heat stroke. I think she did marvellously well to cover the distance and I was really impressed with her determination.
For me there was no shade until a motorway flyover a couple of miles further on and here I hugged the cool concrete affectionately and managed to cool down some what. I was looking forward to getting off the C510 after 60 miles of its hard shoulder to get onto the SA114 towards Alba, and in doing so hopefully get a change from the very long, flat, straight roads I’ve been on for the last few days. Unfortunately for me this didn’t happen and if anything it was straighter and flatter. What did make the turn most interesting was the petrol station on the corner. It was Art Deco in style and very reminiscent of the old 1930’s Shell Stations in the states. It still had its original wall tiles and typefaces. It was a fantastic piece of architecture (one my friend Paul Adams would like)…then anything at this stage would have been fantastic to me I suppose.
With the heat of the day subsiding and with the knowledge that Mrs C goes home tomorrow, it was in a Kamikaze style that she returned to the hard shoulder for one last run. We blasted in the last five miles and ran until her massive blister finally popped, (boy she yelped) that made a poignant end to the hottest day of the trip so far.
I ended up pretty dehydrated today, and Mrs C will need to get some second skin on that foot if she wants to accompany me for the morning tomorrow.
Guijuelo to Aldeanueva 28 miles Time on road 7hrs 55mins 22secs
Distance covered 962 miles 312 miles to go. Marathon 459.
The early start really got me on my way in a positive mood this morning. Our overnight stop had been at a lakeside near Guijuelo. The water was clear and absolutely still. It was a complete contrast to the busy N630 I had been on yesterday and was to stay on for all of today.
The 389km marker from yesterday awaited my start at 07.59hrs. I went just the other side of it to make sure that I have covered all of the distance, and carried on up the busy carraige way. Almost immediately there was the sound of wild hogs behind me…actually it was a Harley Davison gathering on the moving out from Salamanca. In it there were lots of English registration plates and some had Cross of St. George flags on their bikes. It made me wonder if they were off to the match. There were many beeps and calls from them as they passed and I waved to as many as I could. Amazing that on the road an English registration can bring so much excitement.
Then just as I turned onto the old N630 because the main road turned into a no go for Coleman motorway, a Mercedes passed me with an a Cross of St. George flag on a stick on the drivers window and also an English registration. It went by, I waved, and it turned 180 degrees to come back so that the occupants could say hello. It turned out to be a couple off to see the same England v France match as me, who were from Croydon and said that I was the first fan they’d met so far since getting off the ferry in Le Havre. It made the match feel much more of a reality, especially if other people were now on their way. We exchanged email addresses and said our goodbyes. It was a sort of ‘brief fan counter‘. (I just laughed so much when I wrote that).
I must say that the road today proved a great surface to run on again. I went over some huge recently opened bridges that span incredibly high wide valleys. The barriers on each side were only just hip high so it gave my vertigo a bit of an outing to say the least. Behar was one of the places that I passed over looking down on it like from a plane. Past there, I started the descent from the 4000ft high mountain pass I had climbed for most of the day, into Hervas. It was back to hairpin bends and this time I was mindful of the problems that I encountered with my shins the last time I had pounded straight downhill for 6 miles.
Gently from there but speeding up to the finish at the 434km marker, it felt good to crack out the days mileage feeling a lot better than I had in yesterday‘s heat, just before 16.00 hrs. Same again please tomorrow.
Aldeanueva to Galisteo 28 miles Time on road 7hrs 51mins 24secs
Distance covered 990 miles 284 miles to go. Marathon 460.
The early morning starts are making a huge difference to the days activities. For me it means that I get to run in the cool morning so that I can get as much mileage under my belt before the heat of the day makes things pretty unbearable. Unfortunately for Sara and Road Dog they now have to work around supermarket and laundry times over here because of the siesta. Oh how we live it up!
Back on the N630 the route carried on through Aldeanueva a pretty town now benefiting from the main motorway N630 passing along side. Apart from the shops and cafes which looked pretty deserted, some were boarded up. That’s the price of progress I suppose. Just before getting back on the main drag to Plasencia, I saw some of the Harley Davison’s that had passed me earlier on. As is now customary, they had beeped at my flag as they had passed. When I eventually caught them up at a service station, I shouted a ‘hello’ and was introduced to a group of bikers including, Jim and Helen from Market Harborough, who were on their way to Europe’s largest ‘Hog’ rally in the south of Portugal. It was great to talk to some Brits…and also if you ever need a bodyguard then Jim’s your man (he was built like a…well you know).
After a quick elevenses/lunch and when I was only just back on the road when the best pair of trainers I have ever owned (a pair of Saucony Hurricane V’s) soles finally went to trainer heaven. Actually they do have a bit left in them so I am keeping them for the run into Lisbon as a bit of a treat at the finish. Thanks once again thanks to Jonny Quint at Saucony for the trainers. If you are doing anything bordering on the insane running front please take note.
Kitted in new trainers, which have that fantastic new smell, that’s hard to explain. I ran over a large bridge near Plasencia with a smell that I can explain. It was directly over a sewage works! I was really careful as one slip and I would be in the…anyway, it was horrendous. However, I must admit I did have to look for my own curiosity and then wished I hadn’t. YYUUUKKK!
Then the moment I had been looking forward to all day, was here. KM marker 460 on my 460th Marathon. (Yes, I know it’s pathetic but it keeps me going) I had promised myself a ‘cheesy Coleman smile’ self-photo here. I went to take it but the camera battery had already given up it’s last burst of energy. From there to the finish, I knew how it felt. In the Fan oven of central Spain, the surroundings were more like a desert and the passing green landscapes of the previous five weeks had today become a very dry yellowy brown colour. Can it get any hotter? I finished in a ball of sweat in just under 8hrs. Orange Fanta just came out of my ears as steam as I drank it. Boy oh boy, what a boiler.
What did helped today were the texts and emails from friends following the route. Many thanks to Andrea Lumley and to fellow Treadmill World Record Holder Dan Afshar for their encouragement and donations. Also I’m happy that my friend and another fellow Treadmill Record Holder Paul Taylor is back to full health after the GUCR 145. Hopefully there will be more messages from you tomorrow.
Galisteo to Puente Romano 29 miles Time on road 8hrs 12mins 54secs
Distance covered 1019 miles 255 miles to go. Marathon 461.
I knew today was going to be tough as the ‘Old’ N630 would be my partner for the full 29 miles. The sun was already cooking on gas mark 5 as I set off following the rubble that used to be the carraige way. As I explained yesterday they are building a new motorway similar in size to the M42 across that heart of the country that I am passing through. What makes it hard as a pedestrian of course is that I am not allowed on the new road and all of the old signage has been removed and newly erected with the new motorway in mind (hope that you are keeping up with this). In other words it’s a complete mess!
The morning was made up of going down dead end roads to see where I could go and time was spent listening for the sound of the motorway in the distance. When I did finally get on the old road it was completely deserted so in an act of defiance I carried on astride the central white line. What a renegade! It was here that I noticed 28 (I counted them) buzzards/vultures. They had been there yesterday in fewer numbers but I had a notion they were looking down at a bumper feast trussed up in England Kit, cooking in his own orange P20 gravy. I carried on in a bizarre Hitchcock type scene looking up now and again to see if they were going to make a dive for me. Of course they didn’t…must put it down to the smell of the plat.
My attention was finally distracted when I met a man and woman approaching in the other direction. Each had a huge rucksack and they were covered in sweat. Mike and Brigitte, from Croydon (what is it about that place), were on the pilgrimage I told you about a couple of weeks back. They said that they were lost and when I showed them where they now had to go, their heads and in Brigitte’s case jaw also dropped. I knew as I walked away they were going to have words…most of them Brigitte’s. (Aside Mike had said that they had done 40km (24 miles) yesterday and it had nearly killed them…they’d do more today). Boy he was going to get it.
I carried on, using the crash barrier’s shadow to shade my feet as they had began to melt in my shoes. I knew that I would have to be careful for the rest of the day to make sure that they didn’t blister. Changing socks in an F1 pit stop style at 20 miles really helped out. So did a lemonade and an orange lolly, (thanks to Princess Sara for that one.) It also gave me a chance to think about the highlight of the day. Puente Romano. ‘The Roman Bridge‘. Sold to me as the most majestic bridge in all of Spain. And I was going to finish today right in the middle of it today. Only it wasn’t that Puente Romano. In fact there are loads of Puente Romano’s. Ours had clearly seen better days, probably around 100ad, and was in ruins. My route went around it to finish by the side of a railway at the top of a hill by a rough looking café. Serves me right.
It did help to encourage me onto the finish though, as did a call from Big Dave Carter, my ‘bestest running friend in the whole world ever’ a 38 tonner himself, and would be useful here as a weapon against the trucks. Also thanks to David, Mindy and Bump Rowlands from our post Alpha group for their kind donation. Cheers guys! I must wish my Vicar Peter Gibbs good luck on his pilgrimage to Holy Island (Some advice, don’t take Mike from Croydon to map read.) and lastly thanks to everyone at the National College for School Leadership in Nottingham for their encouragement (where my wife SarahJane works). I promise that it will be over very soon and then she’ll stop driving you all mad about this run. I bet its hotter tomorrow…
.
Puente Romano to Brochas 28 miles Time on road 7hrs 59mins 07secs
Distance covered 1047 miles 227 miles to go. Marathon 462.
Over the last five weeks I’ve been through some strangely named places, none of them more apt perhaps, as the region I an now running in. Extremadura or Extremely Mad You are ah! As we call it. I am waiting for Wasthiza Gudidya and Weru Druncatatyme to come up in the next few days. What I do know is that I saw my first sign for PORTUGAL an anagram of NOTSOFARTOTHEFINISH today! Ha ha!
It was a bit understated really, just added to the bottom of a run of the mill sign. It did prove a welcome relief to the mornings hard work. It was an easy start back alongside the lake I had finished on yesterday. It reminded me of the Ladybower Reservoirs in Derbyshire, that SarahJane and I had been able to walk on the bottom of last year, due to the drought. Here was similar but on a greater scale, with an added dam to hold back water for a hydro electric station at one end. The only problem I could see with that was that there was no water! I could see the church towers emerging out of the water from an ancient flooded town and there were walls and roads now visible due to the low water mark. From the looks of the banks it has been some years since it had been anywhere near full. This country is dry, very dry in fact, and from the evidence I have seen looks like it will soon be a desert. It certainly was hot enough.
I promise that I won’t go on about the heat from now to the end in Lisbon. I’ll just put the code. H (meaning it’s extremely hot here) so here goes for today somewhere in the diary. See if you can spot it, pair of sweaty socks for the winner). As I said the route followed the lakeside up hill and over bridges that also carried the railway below in a sort of double decker style. This made the road part of the bridges were very high indeed, but gave me a great view of the water below. From my great vantage point there were huge fresh water carp basking in the shadows of the bridge as Hundreds of Martins flew in and out in a constant wave of activity. (did you spot it?)
I watched for sometime before I did my right turn for the day across the plain towards Brochas. The road was now very undulating and narrow, so I was glad that it was a weekend when I was here thus avoiding the traffic. I burned up over the next few miles drinking two litres of water every 8 miles. The crew used our entire Orange Fanta reserve at lunch and I even refused my beloved custard for once.
After a thirty minute rest I felt more rehydrated and carried on. Luckily for me there was a rare phenomenon in this area…a big black cloud approaching. When the sun finally went behind it, then it became a lot more bearable on the tarmac, and I was able to run in the last few miles to finish at Brochas. Tonight we are camped by the road, although we could have used last nights campsite only that was full of a party of school kids that only went quiet just after 2am when I moaned at them like grumpy punch and judy man, Mr Partridge from Hi-de-Hi, and then this morning we found out that we were next to a field with a sexually frustrated bull in it, who in turn was next to a field of cows. One boot in the right place would’ve sorted out his problems I think.
Anyway on a nicer note, great to talk to Mel Coles and the real Mr. Partridge, Stephen that is today. Also hello to my children Hannah, George (well done on your first day at work) , Sam, Joe and Harry as well as Mrs C (miss you!).
Let’s hope I had more sleep by the time I write tomorrow.
Brochas to Claveria 28 miles Time on road 7hrs 47mins 19secs
Distance covered 1075 miles 199 miles to go. Marathon 463.
You’ll remember that we had parked up just outside the town of Brochas last night to catch up on the lost sleep from the Rampant Bull and the Kids incident the night before. Our evening had been very pleasant, locals walking by on their way to a social club on a hot summer’s promenade (the Spanish seem to like that) and we watched a magnificent sunset well past ten o’clock and had all turned in soon after. Peace and quiet…
Until, I was woken at 6am by the beeping of a car horn next to the van. The car revved and beeped again. There were lots of shouts from outside, and I had the feeling that we were being surrounded. In the mayhem Princess Sara grabbed her sweatshirt, and Road Dog moved an eyebrow as I quickly pulled on my lycra shorts. As I was doing this it, the noise got worse. Far worse, the beeping was now accompanied by music. It was the famous Spanish rock and roll artist El Shakio Stevenos at full tilt. Now it was very serious. By this time I had now made it down my ‘Neil Armstrong’ ladder from my bed above the cab and had opened the door to find a Go faster black Seat with a couple of lads signalling one-one by the look of it. I applauded their England v France match prediction with my fist and with that they wheel span off into the dawn. Without much comment we all went back to our beds and woke at our normal 08.30hrs to start at 09.00hrs.
After some pictures by a Portugal Sign (attached) , it was on and out of Brochas straight into a dead end. Our road was blocked. After being quickly redirected by Sara she then rode alongside me on the bike to accompany me for the next few miles. She had only just said look at that great big dog, when we both said ‘PANTHER’ at the same time. It was ahead of us in a field to our right and was a truly massive beast. It had a low slung head, long body, and outstretched tail. It slinked near to the edge of the road and then disappeared. As did Sara to my side of the road. Intrigued I crossed over and freaked poor Sara out when I shouted ‘Here Kitty Kitty’. Much to her relief we didn’t see it again. When a van with ‘French Circus’ written on the side passed us not long afterwards it all fell into place. I passed the circus much later in the day and it had all sorts of animals caged outside it’s Big Top there was even a Camel that was tethered to one of it’s trucks, but unfortunately no panther. Let‘s hope they find it before tonight’s performance.
At the next drinks stop the bike was put firmly back on the rack and Sara was back in the cab with the Road Dog. I think her cycling days are over for this trip. Actually the trips nearly over as tomorrow I finish at the Spain/Portugal border, and the match is exactly a week away. With 199 miles to go can anything else happen…more tomorrow.
Claveria to the Portugal Border 29 miles Time on road 7hrs 49mins 23secs
Distance covered 1104 miles 170 miles to go. Marathon 464.
I am writing my diary tonight from Portugal! It feels incredible to be here, and the crossing of the border was an amazing experience. But more of that later…however it had started a little bit more surreal.
We had stopped overnight at a little hotel in Valencia just short of the border. It was in a little town square and the luxurious rooms all in for 21€ (£13) incredible value for money. The hour long bull fight on the TV in the Hotel’s bar before last night’s dinner was less of an appetiser for my oncoming Steak, but by 9.30pm I was prepared to butter the table and eat it. (The town didn’t really get going until then, but is well worth coming to visit). We ate in a dining room where there was a sort of auction taking place. Most of the elderly couples that were there emerged later with canteens of cutlery or an electric pizza makers by the look of the boxes. (It Went on and on). I left Sara and Road Dog there and went to bed and enjoyed a rock hard bed basically constructed of a sheet stretched over a 6 x 4’ block of wood. Perfect for the old back!
Breakfast was made even better when Sara had one of her senior moments. I said that I was annoyed that, a) I had annoyed myself with having Venus by Bananarama stuck in my mind for the previous two days running and without looking in my Guinness Book of Hit Singles (a must for this type of event) I couldn’t remember b) who had originally sung it. Her reply of ‘Was it Black Sabbath?’ (bless her) creased me for the first half of the day. I spent many miles trying to sing it in an Ozzy Osbourne style. *
The second half of the day was spent getting painfully closer and closer to the border. To add to the ordeal, there were two Portugal signs 16 of my paces apart that said 26km and 25 km. I liked the idea of 16m, kilometres but somehow the other 25km that I covered felt far more than the regulation 1000m. Road Dog came out on the bike and accompanied me to the crossing and we chatted the distance away across a road with very few cars on it for a couple of hours.
When the big Portugal 1km sign came into view, it did take my breath away and made me feel very proud of the journey so far. From there I ran and then skipped over the border to the bemusement of the border crossing police. We had a celebration team hug, took pictures and whooped with joy about the 1104 mile journey from London. I did a couple more kilometres into Portugal to finish the day off, without surplus plat, camera, phone etc. so that I could take stock of the moment. I must admit that I ran as fast as I could with tears of pride flowing down my face. However my glee was brought back down to earth when I finished by a sign saying Lisbon 240km (150 miles) which I am going to cover over the next four days at 60km (37.5 miles) a day.
This means that I will now finish on Friday 11th June time TBC. So the end is now in sight and I have the first of my extended runs, tomorrow.
* Shocking Blue, is the group I was thinking of.
Portugal Border to Alter do Chao 37.5 miles Time on road 9hrs 36mins 34secs
Distance covered 1141.5 miles 112.5 miles to go. Marathon 465.
I love Portugal. The people of Marvao even more. We stopped just over the border in this incredible ancient town. Where the drivers have to have great spatial awareness, or their cars have scrapes along the sides of the bodywork. The town you see is perched on top of a mountain and the streets were intended for carts only. We needed a lift to the hotel as our Crewbus would not go through the gateway into the town ramparts. The hotels resident driver, drove like a complete maniac along the cobbles, loving our reactions to his great driving dexterity. I reckon that I had met him in oncoming traffic a few times in Spain but wasn’t too sure. Anyway, this morning we chose to walk back to the Crewbus for our return to the border.
As I mentioned yesterday, I am now doing 37.5 miles a day. So we started at 07.00hrs and Princess Sara and Road Dog are now on spilt shifts to cover the increased hours of the run each day. I managed to get 13 miles under my belt before having to get back to the border for 10am The Sun Newspaper photocall. (Apparently it is in on Thursdays paper). Here we enjoyed one of our highlights of the trip so far. The Lady Major, Madalena Tavares and her trusty translator from the Town Hall of Manvao, had already arrived by the time I had got there. With an army of townsfolk and students they embraced the situation and us…many times. With gifts of a fantastic book about the history of their town, Portuguese Flags and donations for our charity Everyman they were absolutely charming. The friendship they showed us was both moving an heart warming.
After that I just got my head down and went for it today. With a Marathon left to do it was just like any other day of the run and I just had to get on with it. The ascent to Portalegre was challenging but well worth the climb. This area of Portugal is fantastic! And well worth a visit. My sight seeing carried onto towards Crato where after a 10 minute sleep by the side of the road in the midday heat, I was revived by the Road Dog with two cans of Fanta and a can of Red Bull. This did the trick and I sped onto Crato and then raced the last 8 miles to Alter do Chao to finish in 9hrs 36mins for the day. I was really chuffed with that performance for my fortieth day on the road.
Once again thanks for the texts and calls from blighty. Great to speak to my proud long suffering Mum and Dad, and also for the encouragement from John Hunt from the Vestal Virgins Running Club…(it’s a long story). Not as long as this run though and there’s another 37.5 miles tomorrow!
Alter do Chao to 37.5 miles Time on road 13hrs 00mins 59secs
Distance covered 1179 miles 75 miles to go. Marathon 466.
I still love Portugal, even more now that I am half way across it. You can see from the time above it looks like I went shopping, but I’ve spent most of the day running in the wrong direction over Roman Bridges and an hour recording a piece for Portuguese Sports Network TVE. Oh and running 37.5 miles…
It started at 7am with a breakfast run with Reporter Jonathon Thompson from the Independent joining me for a few miles…(that turned into 10) for him to experience what is like on the road. With his photographer Martin Chilvers aboard my bike, turning up along the way to take his pictures. We had a great couple of hours and when we reached a Roman Bridge, this time in tact we did loads of pics going the wrong way because of the light conditions. Call it male pride but in the pics there is a tendency to really lift ones knees and run very fast at the camera. Great for the pics but rubbish for energy conservation. When they left mid morning it was back to the normal gait and speed, or so I thought it would be.
After only a mile the official channel of Euro 2004 TVE turned up with a lady reporter Orianna, (9 out of 10 on the Road Dog scale) and camera man turned up in a very versatile 1998 Toyota Corolla. I say versatile because he used every inch of it as a platform to film from. After about 10 minutes up hill, trying not to look completely knackered, he finally had the footage he was looking for, boy was I glad! Then obviously not satisfied, he said could I go the other way. These miles were adding up. Then after two interviews with Orianna, about my specialist subject, Portuguese players of the Euro 2004 tournament, with my chair half in the road back to on coming traffic. They were off back to Lisbon with the footage and I finally got on with the days mileage.
With the plot lost a couple of times due to lack of water, carbohydrates and sleep I finally got to the end of the day still running but very glad to finish.
Now the thank you part of the diary. I’ve noticed that people now phone or email get in this part and tonight’s might seem blatant but then it is for the Charity Everyman. Firstly congratulations to Rachel Turnbull on her pregnancy. Husband David has now gone public with the news and I’m thrilled that they wish to call it Rory if it’s a boy I must say I am touched. Thanks to my sister Jo at Vodafone or Directory enquiries today it was. And also for the kind donation, (in advance if I mention them she said) that of Christine Macdonald and her staff at Nottingham’s most creative design agency, Aspire Design. Hope that’s ok for you Christine!
Now as far as I’m concerned, it’s early to bed and a hope that the Sun newspaper tomorrow haven’t got that picture of me when I was fat with a tash from Christmas 1993 in the paper tomorrow. And if you are interested Jonathon’s article is in Sunday’s Independent.
XXX for my kids Hannah, George, Spud, Joe and Harry. Dad’s home Monday.
Montagil to Saluaterra 37.5 miles Time on road 11hrs 46mins 41secs
Distance covered 1216.5 miles 37.5 miles to go. Marathon 467.
This time tomorrow it will all be over! Hence I’ve christened today Lisbon Eve. It’s been a quiet day where the main focus has been covering the 60Km (37.5 miles) without any injuries or using up too much energy. As for sleep, that was in short supply, due to two families of French people camping next to us at our campsite where they let their children and dog run wild just after midnight, whist they carried on and constructed their tents. They even hammered in their tent pegs with what sounded like a toffee hammer for ages, even though there was no breeze and their weight would have stopped this happening. I went and explained this to them in just my lycra shorts and plastered nipples in a type of Victor Meldrew manner…to little effect.
Road Dog and I agreed to get them back in the morning as we were going to be up early, but much to our dismay they beat us to it and we were soon listening to a repeat performance of the previous nights cacophony at 6am. With that there was nothing else but to start the days mileage.
I had only gone 10 miles when in the distance I could see a very green immaculate football pitch and a strange half stand. When I finally got there it was in fact Croatia’s training camp for the tournament. (They are in England’s group). The guards, let me take a photo but would not let me in. Not surprising really, but an hour later their official photographer caught up with me to take some snaps for the Croatian Press. He seemed very excited, mostly about my flag. Ah well…
Equally excited were a group of children waiting under some trees for any sign of passing Croatian footie traffic. They didn’t look like they had seen any for some time and my passing only gained their attention momentarily. My attention was ok until siesta time at 16.00hrs here I took only a matter of seconds to drop off into a well earned 25 minute sleep. The sleep felt like a matter of seconds to me I can tell you. Road Dog woke me up and he and Sara provided cold drinks and encouragement until the end of the day‘s run. Here, I ran in hard to finish in under 12 hrs so I was pleased with that.
I am also pleased that my sponsorship is going up. Many thanks to Neil Kapoor for his kind donation, and also for the encouragement of all of my friends who have said hello today. Thanks also to Matt and Melissa from Everyman for your help and kind words.
As I said this time tomorrow it will all be over. All the mileage completed so far feels irrelevant. Only then at the moment when I cross the line will the dream become a reality. Phew, I can feel it’s going to be an emotional one tomorrow.
I though me doing a 32 mile ultra last week was good-
I am pleased the sealskinz were good as just bought a pair- running for a week in the Amazon in 3mths time- so waterproofing ideal !
Very well done.Amazing. enjoy the football.!
Hope you are going publish a book about the run.
we'll talk about it all. you bloody strong runner, are ya?
Rorz
Salvaterra to Lisbon 37.5 miles Time on road 13hrs 45mins 03secs
Distance covered 1254 miles 0 miles to go. Marathon 468.
...'Some of the crowd are on the pitch...they think it's all over...it is now'.
What a day! Immensely rewarding and extremely surreal in places. It had all started with a 03.50hrs alarm call, in a hotel in Salvaterra. Last night the townsfolk had been running bulls along the main street to end up in the Bull Ring as part of the towns annual festival. Then they had partied for the rest of the night. Don't we pick em!
SarahJane's flight in was an hour late and she got to the hotel at past midnight. I don't recommend trying to run 37.5 miles with only a short kip to speak of in two days. Therefore my new mindset was that sleep was for wimps. (What a dipstick).
After a short trip to the start, Sara crewed for the first stage. Seven slices of beans on toast and three coffees later I got my second wind, and blasted out the first 10 miles, literally. Later on in the morning Road Dog and SarahJane came out to join the fun. With a Portugal and an England flag on my plat, there were loads of horn beeps and one motorist even stopped on a busy road to shake my hand and say well done.
The miles passed and so did the time. We carried on for some miles through an industrial port area, a bit like 'Ellesmere' as Road Dog put it. With 5 miles to go SarahJane was crew bussed on to the end and I was left to run into the main part of the city. Here we were joined by Orianna from TVE, who filmed the whole run in. A reporter and photographer from Zoo Weekly joined me as I went through the famous Expo area of the city did their annual 5 minutes of keep fit, and had to do their story on the run. (Boy they were unfit for youngsters). Because by now I wasn't stopping for anyone.
The only thing that slowed me down were the hills and the heavy traffic. Road Dog was now guiding me in to the end riding the bike. He kept saying that the Stadium was just over the next hill. I couldn't see it, and my legs were now jelly from running knees high in front of the TVE cameras. Yes it was male pride time again! Then, suddenly it came in to view.
It didn't happen as I thought it would. The mere sight of it actually stopped me on my feet and I collapsed to my knees. It took my breath away. The Road Dog shouted at me to get off the road, and once back with my senses it was going to be last push to the finish.
As I rounded the last corner, I could see a huge crowd of fans waiting with flags and a finishing tape strung in front of the famous Footballer Eusabio's statue. With a large Portugal and England flag in each hand I gathered all my energy and skipped across the line. The beautifully dressed Lady Ambassador greeted me with a welcoming hug and congratulated me on finishing. She presented me with a huge silver cup and two match tickets for the England v France game. Oh an a bottle of bubbly...I told her that I didn't drink so I did a Grand Prix spray over the crowd and reporters. Only most of it went over the Lady Ambassador, live on TVE and recorded by BBC Breakfast for their Saturday show. She was sort of ok ish about it. The press loved it!
With that it was hugs and kisses all round from SarahJane and my crew Road Dog and Sara. Here I must make a special thank you to these two amazing people. Before April 30th we had never met. For 43 days they have worked tirelessly on my behalf, providing not only Quiche and Custard support and friendship beyond the call of duty. They have never said 'get a move on' and have been incredibly protective of me. I can't praise you both enough, and it will be strange not having you there 24/7. Especially at meal times!
Can I sum up the 43 days, well I have been trying to do so every day in the diary. The distance is immense, 1254 miles or 2006km. That's 1/20th of the Earth's diameter. I have been privileged to run through some of the most stunning scenery in Europe. I have met such a variety of people all of them friendly, all of them generous. I haven't felt intimidated only welcomed where ever I have been. Which in this day and age is heart warming.
Luckily for me I didn't sweat once in six seeks due to my Rightguard Xtreme, and I must thank Vicky and Eugenie at Gillette for sponsoring the project. Also to Piranha Kid PR for orchestrating of this logistical nightmare across Europe. Well done guys.
Hopefully more people will be inspired and donate to the charity Everyman via www.rightguardxtremefan.com , and the funds and awareness gained will be a life saver for many other men. Thank you once again to Melissa and Matt at Everyman for their support of the project. And if you have donated, a personal thank you from me.
I thank God that I managed to get here in one piece, it was too close for comfort on many occasions especially with the trucks, so I thank him for his guidance and protection. A special thank you to my family and children who will be glad that I am now coming home at long last. I'm back at work this week on Tuesday, my boss Brian Harwood and colleagues at Argent Litho in Wembley will be glad to hear. Thanks for the time off Boss and for your enthusiasm and friendship. Lastly thanks to each and every one of you that have supported me over the last 43 days and I hope you have enjoyed my ramblings. I think I'll do one last one on Monday as a match report. So more the day after tomorrow.