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Showing posts from February, 2016

What's your secret?

I posted my second PB in three weeks up on Facebook this morning, which means I also ran a PB this morning. At which point I was asked what my secret is... Three minutes off my 10 mile run is not insignificant, 12s a kilometre may not sound a lot to non-runners it is.  For me, it was the first time I've averaged under 7min a KM for 10 miles, its faster than I ran in that glorious period of running up to the London Marathon two years ago. Hell, it's only the fourth time I've gone under two hours. It was also the morning after an almost five mile run, in the dark, where I didn't do bad - 57min. So, in the grand tradition its time to split the infinitive and boldly go into that odd mode I'm surprisingly good at... Analysis Mr Spock Three minutes is not insignificant, which suggests that something significant is different. 1) Route - my training for London was flat, one hill to go down at the end, and one to come back at the end.  Short sharp hills (for th

We Live...

This is based on a post I put in a closed group for us dicky ticker folk... Some said it helped with the loss of one of our own.  Unfortunately, as is the way on Facebook, it got deleted... As this weekend's antics (to mainly be told of in another post) gave a practical example, I thought I'd share... This is my way of dealing with things, it's not intended as the best way or the only way, its just my way... A friend has died, whether we were Facebook only friends, or the sort that we would talk to for hours down the pub.  We don't know, can't know, what happened.  All we can do is mourn them, each in our way, each in our own time.  And above all we live. We may never know the details of their death, and if we're in groups run by our medical teams they can't tell us the details.  The medical legal world doesn't let them.  We shouldn't ask the family, they'll be deep in mourning themselves, and unless are family friends then All we can do is

The Personal Best Protocol & What's a marathon?

It's been a good weeks running... The Mad Dog - 9th Fastest 10k I've run... The 5k training run - 9th Fastest 5k I've run... The 5 miles - 4th fastest 5miles I've run... And today, the 8 miles, 13km, the first long run of the training... and on an awful course, one of the Strava segments is called "Relentless Domingo Rise" and it is... There's also a glorious down hill section - but both of those will be on the marathon course. Anyway on this pig of a course, I run a PB... a good PB by 6min and 49s... Where has this come from?  I have no idea - but long may it continue... Next weekend is a stress test - instead of running on the mean streets of Liverpool I'll be in the hills of North Wales - time doesn't matter, it's all about strength for that run. But it does mean that the Personal Best Protocol has been activated - my old tradition was PB, slap up lunch... That doesn't really help the PBs keep coming... So it developed, PBs of unde

The MDT Letter

In the last 5 years or so a new TLA has appeared (apologies for those who aren't Yes Minister fans - a TLA is a TLA in that its a Three Letter Acronym) that can strike fear in the hearts of those awaiting their test results... The MDT!!!! The what? The MDT... The Multi-Disciplinary Team meeting... In the old days, our cardiologists would get out test results, have a think, possibly a large drink and try and work out what to do with us... The good ones would ask for colleagues to have a look over their shoulder. As a process this stank, and as a scientist it is so short of best practice that it always bemused me - I'm used to peer review, review committees, "blinded" review... So, over time the informal look over the shoulder has changed, developed in the right way, so that we're not looked at as one offs, by one person.  But looked at by the team that looks after us (even if we only see our cardiologists and cardiac liaison nurses) and they review the

Three Colours: Willgoss

I'm fairly sure I'm more the Cornetto Trilogy rather than the classic French-Polish trilogy of my formative years... However, in my pile of running tops I have three colours; three tops of equal meaning to me.  When running this blog through my head as I walked this evening I wondered if I could call them head, heart and legs... But they're all my heart... Which would give my heart three chambers - and I don't have a Fontan circulation (even though I'm told by some it's the "coolest" circulation to have). But hey ho - lets give this a go... My Children Heart Federation tops are probably the one I'm best known for wearing - black and pink these days, it and its predecessors have been the length and breadth of the UK; 5Ks; 10ks, halves (too many to count), my first marathon, ultras... I've killed more CHF tops than I care to think of - after a while the corrosive nature of my sweat will destroy anything... CHF is my "heart" as

The Way of the Rottweiler

This is a post I’ve been playing with for a while, it's probably vain, it could be semi-autobiographical, it could be completely made up, anyway… You see him from a distance; his size and bulk make sure of that. The low rumble of his growl commands attention both welcome and unintended.   Depending on where you see him; the eyes either twinkle with amusement, gently encouraging open conversations and shared adventures or pierce through your skin, examine you critically and seem to decide that you don’t make the grade.   Those, who know him best, know the control, the precision he tries to bring to all that he does. Others, who think they know him, question who let him off the leash, and whether the strap should be applied. To some he’s an overgrown puppy; all clumsy big feet, bustling around, inquisitive nose always seeking out the new, the next toy, wandering while he wonders what’s over the next hill.   To others, he’s a creature born out of the pits of hell, proddin