Open Writing

Poor Paula Radcliffe!

The eyes of the British nation upon her, and she ends up crying in an Athenian gutter, miles short of winning gold in the women’s Olympic marathon.

An uphill course, a burning-hot afternoon, and maybe the weight of too much expectation bore down on the poor lass, forcing her to a standstill.

Or, rather, a sit-down-still.

Instead of the permanent glow of Olympic golden glory, Paula will now be haunted for the rest of her life by film of herself staggering to a tearful and miserable halt.

Marathon running is a lonely business. Alan Sillitoe got it just right when he titled a novel “The loneliness of the long distance runner’’. After all the training, all the interviews, all the preliminary hype, once you lace on those trainers, and the gun goes, there’s just you - and 26 miles of road which has to be conquered.

I’ve never run a marathon. Indeed, I have not run competitively since my teens. But, as a fitness fanatic, I regularly used to go on 15-mile runs. Often alone, sometimes with a friend.

You still see them out there on the pavements, joggers, hammering their bodies in search of the holy grail of fitness. To the non-runner, this self-torture seems to have more to do with punishment than fun. And it has to be admitted that you don’t see many folk running with smiles on their faces.

But take my word for it, distance running is hugely enjoyable. In part it brings a sense of achievement, of being in command of one’s body and forcing it to the outer limits of its potential.

And running produces endorphins, which are involved in a chemical reaction in the brain to fight pain. They produce a sense of euphoria known as “runner’s high’’.

I found no better way of coping with the stresses and mental strains of news editing a daily newspaper than to go for a 40 minute run, three or four times a week.

Office politics are soon forgotten as your feet go slap-slapping along the pavement for six or seven miles.

Of course, if there’s an ounce of competitiveness in you, there will be a stop-watch strapped to your wrist. You get in the car, measure out a mile, three miles, five miles, seven miles…

Then you start timing yourself as you run. 36 minutes 15 secs for five miles, a lot of that uphill. Not too bad for a 59 -year-old!

The downside of distance running is that your leg muscles often ache and your knees become knacketty. When you walk downstairs you can almost hear those knee-joints creaking.

Eventually I abandoned running and took up walking. Much better for you, walking. Your knees feel fine. And if you meet someone you know along the way, it isn’t just a gasped “Hello’’. You stop and chat. Sometimes for half-an-hour.

Walking is good for the mind, as well as the body.

Ten thousand steps a day. That’s what the fitness gurus say we should all be walking to stay truly fit. Folk are flocking to sports shops to buy pedometers to make sure they achieve their daily 10,000.

Attach a pedometer to your belt and wear it day-long. Each step you take is monitored and recorded. And it’s amazing how many steps you take wandering round an office, or walking to the rail station or bus stop.

I think I walk 10,000 steps a day - and more. But just to be sure I’m off to buy a pedometer. They cost less than £10.

Paula Radcliffe, haunted by oft-repeated visions of failure, will probably continue to run competitively - and she may continue to win big races.

But you can bet that a day will come when Paula will heed the yells of our grammar school masters when they caught us sprinting down the corridors:

“WALK, DON’T RUN!’’