Saturday 31 March 2012
Love, running and marriage - Brathay 10 marathons ...
Love, running and marriage - Brathay 10 marathons ...: Yesterday, love was such an easy game to play. Now I need a place to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday. RUNNING is usually an ant...
love, running and marriage - Brathay 10 marathons in 10 days
Yesterday, love was such an easy game to
play.
Now I need a place to hide away.
Oh, I believe in yesterday.
Now I need a place to hide away.
Oh, I believe in yesterday.
RUNNING is usually an antidote for life’s travails. I run to
get rid of stress. I run when work is not going according to plan. And I run to
get rid of tiredness (strange that but hey it works). And of course I run for
wonderful charities like Brathay Trust (justgiving.com/jeff-prestridge).
Unfortunately, for the past week I’ve found running beyond
me. It’s unlike me and it’s unsettling. But then big things are going on in my
life. I’m moving home after 28 years of
marriage – from a comfortable four bedroom house in Hertfordshire to a one
bedroom flat in London’s Docklands. And
yes, before you ask, all my fault (mea culpa and all that).
All rather stressful, all rather emotional and that’s
without mentioning the role of the residents’ association/managing agents/estate
agents who have made my life hell. I was supposed to be moving in on Friday
March 30 and had done everything asked of me – given loads of dosh as security,
paid rent in advance, provided references, filled in standing orders for
frightening amounts of money and signed my life away.
But no, the managing agents/residents’ association weren’t
having any of it. Working at the speed of a snail they decided they wanted to
double check my background (thanks Lord Leveson). The result? While they
procrastinate, dither and Rome burns, I’ve been forced to spend a weekend in a
hotel. My belongings – few and far between - remain in a car parked under a
building in London W8 ready to be disgorged. No matter what threats I made
(disembowelment, exposure in the press, legals), the residents’ association
wasn’t for shifting (quite literally). I’m currently a ‘suspect’, a nasty
journalist (all journalists are nasty) and a persona non grata.
All this has made my back seize up (they say stress attacks
your weakest point and mine, unfortunately, is my lower back). So, rather than
de-stressing by running around the wonderful Royal Parks of London (Hyde, St
James and Green) I’ve been distressed and hobbling around the offices of
Associated Newspapers as if I am Long John Silver.
Hopefully, it’s a temporary blip and that once the
residents’ association deems me fit and proper (maybe they won’t) and allows me
to take up the tenancy agreement I have signed, everything will return to
normal.
It better do! The Brathay 10 marathons in 10 days is
creeping up fast and I feel woefully underprepared. I’m still carrying winter
fat (winters in Hertfordshire can be terribly cold!), I’ve done few races and
I’m not clocking enough miles. In short (and yes, I am only five foot eight),
I’m not fit for purpose.
Of course I’ll be there on the start line on May 9 raring to
go like some lurcher that has just spotted a hare. But it could be one tough 10
days.
At least I’ll run at a pace that knocks spots off the
resident’s association that has made my life and back hell. If I finish I will
ensure every single one of those luddites that sit on that pompous committee
are forced to watch a video of my Brathay 10 in 10 experiences (including cold
baths and toe nails dropping off). And sponsor me
(justgiving.com/jeff-prestridge).
Keep healthy. Keep stress out of your life. And if you see a
ginger headed guy wandering around a hotel foyer in the next few days with a
bad back and spitting venom, say hello. But don’t mention the residents’
association. It will tip me over the edge!
Monday 19 March 2012
blog One: 10 marathons in 10 days: A beautiful Great Britain
A beautiful Great Britain: RAISING money for charity isn’t easy, especially against this difficult economic backdrop when the temptation is to tighten the purse stri...
A beautiful Great Britain
RAISING money for charity isn’t easy, especially against this
difficult economic backdrop when the temptation is to tighten the purse strings
and say no (albeit kindly).
So far, I’ve raised £42,000 and I thank every single
contributor (individuals through to big financial services companies) for
supporting me in my quest to generate much needed funds for the wonderful
children’s charity Brathay Trust.
My target is £100,000 but it is only a target. Unless a
Richard Branson, a Stephen Hester or Bob Diamond decide to offload a little of their wealth (go
on, I dare you!) I fear I will fall short. But I will have done my best. So,
don’t be too hard on me!
In such hard times, I’ve tried to do things a little differently
with regards to fund raising. The result is my website www.abeautifulgreatbritain.co.uk.
The website is based on my 192 mile Coast to Coast walk last
June – a website that includes my personal diary as I trudged across Britain
from St Bees on the west coast to Robin Hoods Bay. Of course, the walk will appear
like a stroll in the park after running 10 marathons in 10 days this May around
Windermere in the Lake District. But at the time it was tough, exhausting, and
exhilarating, all at the same time.
I took a lot of pictures while traversing the Lake District,
the Yorkshire Dales and the North Yorkshire Moors. Indeed, I took so many I
turned them into a book, which is available via www.abeautifulgreatbritain.co.uk.
All proceeds, of course, will go to Brathay Trust.
Anyway, when you get a chance, take a look at the website.
It might tempt you to do the Coast to Coast (and if so, fantastic, you will
love it). The website includes details of all the places I stayed at (most of
them absolutely magical).
Forty odd miles of running in the last week. Of course it’s
not enough but I’ll be there on the start line in May, come what …. May!
God bless.
Ps: if you know Branson, Hester and Diamond, give them a nudge!
Saturday 10 March 2012
Rosie and Jim: Latest thoughts: 10 marathons in 10 days
I’VE just completed a beautiful seven mile run along the
Birmingham Canal in the dusk. Birmingham, my City of birth, might not quite be as
pleasing on the eye as Windermere but the canal has its own peculiar
attractions. It reminds me of a faded
movie queen – well lived in, plenty of stories to tell, yet still captivating
and pleasing on the eye.
And of course seven miles on flat footpaths is a little less
punishing than 26.2 miles up and down the hills that hug the Windermere
shoreline. I think I could do 10 seven
mile Birmingham Canal runs in 10 days. But 10 marathons in 10 days around Windermere
in May? I am beginning to wonder! Am I living in a fantasy world?
Back to Brum. A lot of money has been spent revitalising
Birmingham’s canal system. Residential flats overlooking the canal have been
built in their thousands (very trendy they look, especially the penthouses)
while restaurants abound in their dozens.
On a good day, there’s a real buzz to the area, especially
around Brindleyplace and the Mailbox. I love it and running up and down its
footpaths is as therapeutic as therapy comes. Smethwick, Winson Green (my Dad
always said I would end up in the prison there if I didn’t eat all my
vegetables), Gas Street. All evocative names. I’ve yet to run all the way along
the canal to Wolverhampton but I will do so before the 10 in 10 rears its beautiful
262 mile head in May.
Unfortunately, the fragile state of Britain’s economy has
left its mark on Birmingham’s recent canal developments. Closed restaurants (too
many for comfort) are a reminder that we are living in tough times. Yet I’m
sure that the area will continue to thrive. Certainly, when I left Birmingham
34 years ago, I never thought I could ever live again in the City. But I would
not hesitate to live in one of the flats overlooking the canal and spend the
rest of my days shuffling up and down the canal paths.
Talking of hard times, I can’t thank you all enough for
pushing the state of the economy to one side and supporting me in my effort to
raise serious money for the marvellous Brathay Trust. So far you’ve donated
more than £41,000. It’s a magnificent amount of money that I know Brathay are
thrilled to have received. Every single one of my donors is a superstar.
I’ve vowed to get as close to £100,000 as I can by the time
May comes around and the 10 in 10 starts. Maybe I won’t get there (the £100,000
mark that is). But like the 10 in 10, I’m going to give it my best shot.
Take care. And if you’re ever passing through Birmingham,
why not take time out to have a walk around the canals (Mailbox or
Brindleyplace are your best entry points). You can go on a canal trip, visit
Sealife, have a look around the International Conference Centre or pop into
Symphony Hall.
You might even see me waddling up and down the canal path
training for the Brathay 10 in 10 (I’m a ginga so you won’t miss me!)
If not me, then look out for Rosie and Jim!
Monday 5 March 2012
blog One: 10 marathons in 10 days: A diamond geezer - diamonds are forever - as is ru...
10 marathons in 10 days: A diamond geezer - diamonds are forever - as is ru...: ‘Diamonds are forever, They are all I need to please me, They can stimulate and tease me, They won't leave in the night, I've no fear th...
A diamond geezer - diamonds are forever - as is running
‘Diamonds are forever, They are all I need to please me, They can stimulate and tease me, They won't leave in the night, I've no fear that they might desert me. Diamonds are forever, Hold one up and then caress it, Touch it, stroke it and undress it, I can see every part, Nothing hides in the heart to hurt me. I don't need love, For what good will love do me? Diamonds never lie to me, For when love's gone, They'll luster on. Diamonds are forever, Sparkling round my little finger. Unlike men, the diamonds linger; Men are mere mortals who Are not worth going to your grave for. I don't need love, For what good will love do me? Diamonds never lie to me, For when love's gone, They'll luster on. Diamonds are forever, forever, forever. Diamonds are forever, forever, forever. Forever and ever.’
(Diamonds are forever, Shirley Bassey)
FIRST, the good news. I’ve had a solid week of running, clocking up nearly 50 miles along the way. OK, not quite up to the 262 miles I will have to do in May in order to complete the 10 marathons in 10 days around Windermere but beggars can’t be choosers. I’m a busy man.
Now, onto the bad news. Last week, I was ‘Langaned’. And I’m still recovering.
Langan’s Brasserie is a restaurant opposite Green Park in west London. Its food is ok’ish although it has a tendency to spoil some of its best dishes (swordfish, for example) by coating everything in obscure sauces.
Yet it’s not the food you go there for. You go to Langan’s to soak in the atmosphere, drink and have fun – the so called ‘buzz and hustle and bustle’.
It’s where ladies of leisure go to spend a lazy afternoon talking about their latest lovers.
It’s where footballers, ex-footballers, football managers, former England international rugby players, artists and bon viveurs go to chill – and when appropriate party.
Over the years, I’ve seen a whole list of ‘celebs’ pass through Langan’s doors – Terry Venables, Teddy Sheringham, Gary Speed (sadly no longer with us), Sam Allardyce, John Motson and Claire Sweeney. Most have great fun. Most are there long after I’ve waltzed off into the sunset. Most are friendly although John Motson once took exception to me bragging I had beaten him in some 10 mile road race in Hertfordshire!
I have a few cardinal rules I rigidly apply when in danger of being ‘Langaned.
First, I never arrive until 1.30pm because to arrive earlier would be dangerous (for health reasons).
Secondly, I always insist on dining on the ground floor. Upstairs is like a morgue. The ground floor is akin to one giant party.
Thirdly, I never make appointments after a lunch at Langan’s for the simple reason that I have no idea what time I am going to get out of the place (it hooks you in and doesn’t let you go).
Last week I was hooked in – this time by a family party celebrating the award of an MBE to Plymouth sportsman and businessman Keith White. It was inevitable that I was not going to leave Langan’s without congratulating Keith on his award. And congratulate I did. I bought him drinks. He bought me drinks. I simply couldn’t leave the place. And I didn’t. I was still there when Langan’s was taking evening meal orders!
It was a wonderful occasion witnessing the Whites celebrate. Keith’s wife, Rita was dressed up to the nines. His daughter Samantha had flown in from Toronto to celebrate his award while son Damian had come in from Israel. Party! Party Party!
I didn’t know that much about Keith until the day after. I then discovered that he was in his time a formidable squash player. Now, he’s president of Devon Squash Rackets Association and managing director of Plymouth jeweller Michael Spiers. Along the way, he’s raised a lot of money for charity.
I left Langan’s Brasserie slightly worse for wear. But it had been a super afternoon/evening.
Diamonds are forever. And make no mistake. Keith White MBE is a diamond and a half.
If I achieve a fraction of what Keith White MBE has done in his life, I will be mighty proud of myself. My ‘achieving’ starts with the conquering of the 10 marathons in 10 days in May 2012.
Fancy sponsoring me? I dare you! Just visit justgiving.com/jeff-prestridge
Remember, diamonds are forever!
(Diamonds are forever, Shirley Bassey)
FIRST, the good news. I’ve had a solid week of running, clocking up nearly 50 miles along the way. OK, not quite up to the 262 miles I will have to do in May in order to complete the 10 marathons in 10 days around Windermere but beggars can’t be choosers. I’m a busy man.
Now, onto the bad news. Last week, I was ‘Langaned’. And I’m still recovering.
Langan’s Brasserie is a restaurant opposite Green Park in west London. Its food is ok’ish although it has a tendency to spoil some of its best dishes (swordfish, for example) by coating everything in obscure sauces.
Yet it’s not the food you go there for. You go to Langan’s to soak in the atmosphere, drink and have fun – the so called ‘buzz and hustle and bustle’.
It’s where ladies of leisure go to spend a lazy afternoon talking about their latest lovers.
It’s where footballers, ex-footballers, football managers, former England international rugby players, artists and bon viveurs go to chill – and when appropriate party.
Over the years, I’ve seen a whole list of ‘celebs’ pass through Langan’s doors – Terry Venables, Teddy Sheringham, Gary Speed (sadly no longer with us), Sam Allardyce, John Motson and Claire Sweeney. Most have great fun. Most are there long after I’ve waltzed off into the sunset. Most are friendly although John Motson once took exception to me bragging I had beaten him in some 10 mile road race in Hertfordshire!
I have a few cardinal rules I rigidly apply when in danger of being ‘Langaned.
First, I never arrive until 1.30pm because to arrive earlier would be dangerous (for health reasons).
Secondly, I always insist on dining on the ground floor. Upstairs is like a morgue. The ground floor is akin to one giant party.
Thirdly, I never make appointments after a lunch at Langan’s for the simple reason that I have no idea what time I am going to get out of the place (it hooks you in and doesn’t let you go).
Last week I was hooked in – this time by a family party celebrating the award of an MBE to Plymouth sportsman and businessman Keith White. It was inevitable that I was not going to leave Langan’s without congratulating Keith on his award. And congratulate I did. I bought him drinks. He bought me drinks. I simply couldn’t leave the place. And I didn’t. I was still there when Langan’s was taking evening meal orders!
It was a wonderful occasion witnessing the Whites celebrate. Keith’s wife, Rita was dressed up to the nines. His daughter Samantha had flown in from Toronto to celebrate his award while son Damian had come in from Israel. Party! Party Party!
I didn’t know that much about Keith until the day after. I then discovered that he was in his time a formidable squash player. Now, he’s president of Devon Squash Rackets Association and managing director of Plymouth jeweller Michael Spiers. Along the way, he’s raised a lot of money for charity.
I left Langan’s Brasserie slightly worse for wear. But it had been a super afternoon/evening.
Diamonds are forever. And make no mistake. Keith White MBE is a diamond and a half.
If I achieve a fraction of what Keith White MBE has done in his life, I will be mighty proud of myself. My ‘achieving’ starts with the conquering of the 10 marathons in 10 days in May 2012.
Fancy sponsoring me? I dare you! Just visit justgiving.com/jeff-prestridge
Remember, diamonds are forever!
blog One: 10 marathons in 10 days: A diamond geezer - Keith White MBE
10 marathons in 10 days: A diamond geezer - Keith White MBE: Diamonds are forever, They are all I need to please me, They can stimulate and tease me, They won't leave in the night, I've no fear that th...
A diamond geezer - Keith White MBE
Diamonds are forever,
They are all I need to please me,
They can stimulate and tease me,
They won't leave in the night,
I've no fear that they might desert me.
Diamonds are forever,
Hold one up and then caress it,
Touch it, stroke it and undress it,
I can see every part,
Nothing hides in the heart to hurt me.
I don't need love,
For what good will love do me?
Diamonds never lie to me,
For when love's gone,
They'll luster on.
Diamonds are forever,
Sparkling round my little finger.
Unlike men, the diamonds linger;
Men are mere mortals who
Are not worth going to your grave for.
I don't need love,
For what good will love do me?
Diamonds never lie to me,
For when love's gone,
They'll luster on.
Diamonds are forever, forever, forever.
Diamonds are forever, forever, forever.
Forever and ever.
They are all I need to please me,
They can stimulate and tease me,
They won't leave in the night,
I've no fear that they might desert me.
Diamonds are forever,
Hold one up and then caress it,
Touch it, stroke it and undress it,
I can see every part,
Nothing hides in the heart to hurt me.
I don't need love,
For what good will love do me?
Diamonds never lie to me,
For when love's gone,
They'll luster on.
Diamonds are forever,
Sparkling round my little finger.
Unlike men, the diamonds linger;
Men are mere mortals who
Are not worth going to your grave for.
I don't need love,
For what good will love do me?
Diamonds never lie to me,
For when love's gone,
They'll luster on.
Diamonds are forever, forever, forever.
Diamonds are forever, forever, forever.
Forever and ever.
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