I DID IT!!! OF COURSE.

Dear fans,

I did it: I ran the Edinburgh Marathon!!!

My big fan Quagmire “Oh yeahing”

In your face!!!

My big fan Nelson “Ha-haing” you.

And I got sunburnt.

My awesomely bearded sunburnt face

In my face.

But wait, one step at a time. Let’s start from the beginning.

• Sunday 27th May 2012

6:00 am – Waking up & getting ready: As I promised I did get up at 6 am. Ridiculous 6 am. And as I promised I had scrambled eggs, a bit of bread and a banana for breakfast. And water. A lot of water. I also waited – and waited and waited – and then finally took a big dump. As I promised. And had a hot shower, always as I promised. I then wore my awesome outfit, drank a Lucozade, chatted with an incredibly-early-awake Marcus and reconsidered the whole thing. I decided to do it anyway and finally made my way to the start line of the Edinburgh Marathon Festival on Regent Road. As expected, there were fans everywhere and I had to sign a few thousand autographs before I got to the start line. Of course. Consumed two bananas and then finally met James. A really hungover James.

James and I, at the start line

9:00 am – At the start line: By 9 o’clock James and I were there, at the start line of the Edinburgh Marathon, both in a shit state. Him, rough as fuck and probably still drunk from the night before, and me, already shattered and eager to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. But still, both there. It was already hot and it could have only gotten hotter. Twelve thousand and six hundred people taking part in the Event were already waiting – between Regent and London Road – to start and another God-knows-how-many-thousand people were there too, giving the runners all the support and the last-minute tips they needed. Speaking of last minute tips: at 9:20 am I had to take a little walk and take some time for myself, as James wisely recommended me.

Me, before the start, pissing out the three lucozades and all the water I had drunk by then.

I then rubbed some vaseline on my thighs, focusing on the groin, taped up my nipples – not a big fan of bleeding nipples – and covered my face and arms with some awkwardly borrowed suncream which I of course sweated off pronto, hence the sunburnt face. Stretched my legs for a bit, took my time to reconsider once again the whole thing, got threatened with death by James in case I bailed out, decided to run and therefore didn’t get killed by James, made my way to my pen, smiled to the ladies and prayed the Lord. It was 9:30 am and there I was: trapped inside the orange pen: the one at the front. Of course. The one the fit runners were starting from. Of course. No need to mention that I was totally out of place. Of course. But they didn’t know it. Maybe.

Me, at the start line, showing some confidence in an awkward attempt to impress the ladies.

At 9:50 am the Edinburgh Marathon 2012 officially started on London Road as the professional runners started hitting the road. Their route and ours would have joined after one mile or so, but we would have had to wait till mile 13 or 14 before we saw them – running in the other direction after the turning point at mile 18 – making their way to the finish line. At 9:55 am on Regent Road we were all set up and ready to go.

The start line of the Edinburgh Marathon Festival 2012 on Regent Road.

One for the fans.

“Oh, hiya!”

10:00 am – Here we go: At exactly 10 o’clock the Edinburgh Marathon Festival 2012 started on Regent Road as well. A lot of excitement and a bit of tension during the countdown and then just excitement as soon as I started putting one foot in front of the other. Behind James taking this pictures there were two hundred thousand fans of mine shouting my name and cheering me. I swear to God.

Me, actually doing it, running the Edinburgh Marathon 2012

– What happened during the 26,2 miles between the start and the finish line is hard to explain. Some pictures will be available soon and they’ll show you the state I was in while running all the way to Longniddry and back on the hottest day of the hystory of the whole United Kingdom. But let me tell you that in spite of the shit load of miles you’re supposed to run, the hard training you’re supposed to go through, the stupid diet you’re supposed to be on and the lovely drinks you’re supposed to say no to, I highly recommend everybody to run a marathon. During those 26,2 miles I went through a lot of different feelings and pains. Mainly pains. I learnt about muscles I didn’t even know as soon as they got sore and I learnt new coarse words as soon as I made them up. But I also learnt a lot about people – let me be gay for a second and thank every single member of the crew for being there the whole time giving us water and energy drinks and a slap on the back and good words everytime we needed and also every single person that was there, all the way long, in their own garden, or on the street, or on their bike, or on a walk with the dog or the children, cheering us up, singing for us, supporting us, giving us water and candy and helping us going through the pain and the tiredness – and please let me tell you how awesome everybody has been. Finally, I learnt a lot about myself not only when I crossed the finish line but during the whole marathon but that’s – forgive me – my own business. –

14:19 pm – At the finish line – After 4 hours 19 minutes and 51 seconds I crossed the finish line, in Musselburgh where five hundred thousand supporters of mine were waiting. I swear to God. No need to say that I was knackered. Knackered but insanely happy and so so so proud of myself. And looking awesome. Of course. Finishing my first – but not last! – marathon and doing it in such a good time and with such weather was – and still is – awesome. I crossed the finish line in the middle of a sprint that started 1,5 miles before and finished just a few yards after it when I collapsed on the floor of the football pitch where the finish line was, straight after being given the medal and the finisher t-shirt and a goody-bag with water and other stuff. I don’t want to talk about the three miles I had to walk because my legs were literally not working anymore so I won’t. But I will focus on the fact that I am awesome and I ran a marathon and you didn’t.

A really really really tired but happy me, at the finish line

It did then take me about two hours to find/be found by James and Louise and another two hours to get home but – believe me – I was – and still am – the happiest cunt alive and even though my legs are still pretty fucked today I have to say that finishing the marathon is one of the best feeling ever and it is a big achievement that makes me proud of myself. Especially because it got me free drinks at the pub all night – yes, I went to the pub the very night of the marathon, that’s how awesome I am! – but I’ll get there…

So now once again I want to thank everyone who believed in me – family, friends, blog followers – and also everyone who didn’t – family, friends, blog followers – , everyone that supported me donating money through my justgiving webpage – which is gonna be online for three more months so that you can all still donate to Save the Children – and everyone who didn’t, everyone who was there – Marcus, Michele, Junio and Louise thanks for coming and of course James thanks for everything you’ve done – and everyone who wasn’t but wanted to be and is happy for me – mainly because I didn’t drop dead – and everyone who gave me free drinks all night – Chris and Robbie, cheers! – and everyone who shared a drink with me – at the Drop first and at Opium then – and of course all of yous for reading this blog and supporting me.

James and I at the finish line

So yeah, another post will follow soon and I will hopefully be able to publish some official pictures so that you can all see how fucking tired I was and of course looked – still awesome though! – during the 26,2 mile run. For now, I’ll leave you with this picture of mine I took on the bus home between an autograph and another.

Me and my medal.

Catch you later.

Love, Riccardo.

LESS THAN 12 HOURS!

Dear fans,

Here we are: in less than 12 hours I’ll be finally running the Edinburgh Marathon.

My awesome Race Number, which is also my predicted time: 5684 hours, and my super relaxed expression.

In fact: in less than 12 hours I’ll be already out of breath. In less than 12 hours my knees will be sore as fuck. In less than 12 hours I’ll be sunburnt. In less than 12 hours I’ll be asking myself “Why???” every two seconds. In less than 12 hours I’ll be somewhere along the coast, lost and depressed. In less than 12 hours I’ll be hating my life.

Yep, here we are.

I still don’t know/remember how this whole marathon thing started. I don’t know how I got into this but to be honest I’m happy I did. Not sure I’ll still be happy tomorrow though. Or monday, or tuesday… I don’t know why I haven’t been training enough. Don’t know why I drank so much. Don’t know why I didn’t eat healthy food. Don’t know why I didn’t change my mind. Don’t know why I started this blog. But what I know is that I am happy I am here – doing or not doing the all above-mentioned things – with less than 12 hours to go and a lot of excitement and a bit of worry. Excitement because it’s something I have been working on – kind of – for five months and it really is a big achievement – if I finish it… – and I can’t wait to see the faces of all the cunts that still don’t believe I’m doing this. Worry because it is a 26 mile run – and I am probably not ready for it – and my body will be well fucked after it but especially because of the weather.

Edinburgh, right now.

I am also a bit worried about my knees and my reputation but then again: my knees probably need surgery anyway and most of all what reputation? And then again: in case I won’t be able to finish the marathon – but hopefully I will – I’ve already got a plan anyway. Geoffrey the Butler’s one. Oh, yeah.

Also, because I don’t know how long it’ll take me to update this blog after tomorrow – I don’t even know if I will still be alive after tomorrow… – I seize the opportunity to thank every single person that supported me donating to Save the Children through my justgiving webpage – let’s not forget that the reason why I am running this marathon is charity! -, and every single person that will do it over the next days. Thank you! I want to thank everyone who’s been an encouragement and everyone who’s been a twat as well. It’s thanks to your support/mistrust that I kept going. Thank you! And of course I want to thank every single person that read, followed, shared, liked and talked about this blog. Hopefully some more posts will follow soon. So thank you too!

How I feel, right now.

So yeah, the day has finally come: tomorrow – May 27th – I will be running the Edinburgh Marathon and we will all see who will laugh last. Probably you though, not gonna lie.

You, when you laugh.

But let’s talk about today. Today I finally behaved as a proper athlete. Finally. Except from the fact that proper atheltes don’t have to work. But I had to. On a saturday. After pay day. With 25°C outside. On a saturday. If you know what I mean. Anyway, I finally behaved. Had proper food for both lunch and dinner – granting that sainsbury’s pasta can be considered proper food – , drank 3 litres of water – so far – and not a single drop of alcohol – so far – , have been peeing Highland Spring Water all day – went for a wee something like a million times – and I am planning on going to bed soon – ish – . A proper athlete. Oh, yeah.

But in a bunch of minutes it’ll be tomorrow: the big day and I now have to go and get some sleep. Will get up at 6am, eat some eggs and a banana and drink some more water for breakfast, wait until I take a big dump, take a big dump, take a nice room-temperature shower, wear my awesome running outfit, drink a lucozade or two on my way to the start line, sign a thousand or two autographs, run the marathon, sign another thousand or two autographs, go to the pub, get people to buy me drinks, get steaming – totes -, get laid – maybe – and wake up on monday in a shit state. A proper athlete. Oh, yeah.

So fellas, wish me luck!

…Because I need it!

I really do.

Riccardo

OVER THREE HUNDRED

“Now, you wouldn’t believe it if I told you. But I can run like the wind blows.”

The wind, blowing.

Yes, it means “I can run fast”… And no, those are not my words. And yes, I put a picture after the first line of this post. Any problem? Uh? Anyway. Those are Forrest Gump’s words in that bit at the beginning of the movie when he’s sitting on a bench with that black woman telling her how it all started. Remember it? Yes? Yes? No? Well if your answer is “No”, go watch the movie and then come back. And I’m not asking this to you. I’m telling you. Really. Go. Go now. Anyway. No, those are definitely not my words. My words would be more like Lieutenant Dan’s ones halfway through the film. More something like “Look! Look! Look at me! Do you see that? Do you know what it’s like not to be able to use your legs?”. Yeah, totally more like that. But let me explain.

Since last time we spoke a few things happened. First of all somebody must have published this useless blog somewhere on the web because I now have over 300 different visits a day from all around the world.

Three hundred of those over-three-hundred different visitors I get every day.

Now, to whoever did this, I don’t know whether I should thank you or tell you to fuck off. I really don’t know. Of course, Wow!! I mean up to two weeks ago the only people who actually gave a crap – and even there we have to see how true is that… – about this blog were just my friends, mainly from Italy, United Kingdom, USA, Canada, some other few European countries and of course New Papua Guinea. Twenty, sometimes forty, sometimes ninety different visits a day. But for sure not three hundred. – For sure not over three hundred... – Some days it was just five or ten of yous checking my blog and that was fine. Some other days, when I published something there was like an increase and it was eighty, ninety, maybe one hundred of yous. And that made me happy.

Me, happy, celebrating a day with forty-seven visits. Long time ago.

It really did. But now? Now I’ve got over three hundred different visitors every single day. From all around the world. – I am not showing off, you twats! I am just rambling on because I don’t have much to say about me running… – Over three hundred different visits a day from all around the world and I feel a wee bit under pressure. Not gonna lie, a lot under pressure. – Dun Dun Dun Dududun Dun, Dun Dun Dun Dududun Dun, Under Pressure… – People visit my blog every day from all the five continents and that’s kind of a big deal. Yes, I said five. FIVE. CINQUE. CINCO. CINQ. FUNF. PIEC. BES. GO. WU. PET. VIJF. VIIS. OT. FEM. CINCI. I know what you’re thinking but I’ve been taught that there are five continents in this world and all your stupid theories about six or four or seven – good one… – continents are just crap. A big steaming, stinking crap.

Five continents. Period.

Anyway. You know how hard it is to write something and make it so that over three hundred different people – from all the five different continents there are in the world – would find it amusing? Or at least interesting? You do realise how fucking stressed out I am right now? You do have a fucking idea??? No, you probaby don’t. But then again, neither do I then no big deal! So, that’s the reason why I am gonna thank you, rather thank telling you to fuck off. Thank you because now I know that I really have to finish this marathon, and I have to do it because people from all around the world support me and believe in me. – Believe in me, more than support me, but we’ll get there won’t we? Yes we will. We’ll get there. We’ll get here, and therefore there. – I have to finish this marathon for Save the Children. I have to finish this marathon for all the people who sponsored me already and also for the ones that are going to. I have to finish this marathon for me, because otherwise I will have to move to another country straight away in order not to face such a public humiliation, and I don’t want to. I have to finish it because you’ll be all waiting for a post the very minute after I cross the finish line. And I will give it to you. I will give it to you.

It really is.

Anyway. I did go for a couple of runs since we last spoke. Once with James. A couple of times by myself. James and I ran 6,6 miles at the beginning of last week in almost an hour but then had to stop because my knees were giving me troubles. Even though I was wearing two knee supports – which are helping a lot, by the way – and I looked like a twat – more than usual, I mean – the knees were really sore at one point so I decided to stop. But I was expecting it and that run was more of a test rather than a proper training session and it went pretty well, if you ask me. Went again during the week, this time on my own, and ran 5 miles in 40 minutes. And again just before the weekend for another 8 mile run in one hour and five minutes.

My huge fan Obama, telling me that I’m doing “Not bad”

Then I decided to take this whole thing to the next level. It was time for it. It was time to go for a real run. It was time for a 15 mile run. Fifteen. Something like 24 kilometres. E non è male… So I went for it. And long story short, I did it. I ran 15 miles in two hours and three minutes. And I felt great. Inside. – I don’t want to talk about the fact that I was in so much pain all night and all the day after… – Was feeling shit for the first 3/4 miles but then I found my pace and I just kept going, taking a wee break for some stretching any time I felt like I needed one, till I finished my tenth lap – every lap is exactly 1,5 mile – around the Meadows. Now I would have gone for another run today but after work I had pizza waiting for me – not Two For Tuesday tho!!! – and so I decided not to. I’ll go for it either tomorrow or thursday anyway. Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just save my energies for the big day – Sunday – and see how it goes. I’m pretty excited – and nervous too, not gonna lie… – and even though I do realise that I haven’t been training enough and that I had far too many drinks and junk food during the past five months and that my knees may collapse any time, I am confident: I know I will finish this marathon. Even though there are just three days left. Three days to the marathon. Three days.

Not one, not two, but three. Three.

Three fucking days.

And I wish they were over three hundred…

 

 

‘CAUSE I’M A MOTHERLOVER

Dear fans,

Today in Italy it was Mother’s Day. I’m telling you in case you didn’t know it already, ’cause I’m a Motherlover and I thought it was the right thing to do.

 

 

So I phoned my mum on skype as soon as I got home from work and four hours later here I am, still sitting on my couch, still at the laptop, still not gone for a run, still listening to that song. Today in Italy – and in Papua New Guinea too, true story… – it was Mother’s Day and – yeah – that’s pretty much my excuse for not going for a run tonight.

Thanks Charlie. The real reason why I didn’t go though is the fact that the weather in Edinburgh in these days is a little bit adverse.

The view from my window in Edinburgh, right now

Yeah, adverse. Which I don’t even know whether it’s a real word or not. Whether. Weather. … I wish I had a funny joke for that but unfortunately I don’t. I may have one soon though but I’ll save it for another occasion. Maybe for that trip to IKEA that I’ve been planning for ages – don’t ask, you’ll never understand.. – or maybe for one of the next posts. Or maybe you can all suggest me one. Just not all at the same time like with the donations please. Anyway, I’m kinda hoping that the weather will stay like this until – and of course – on the day of the Marathon. At least I will have a valid excuse for the miserable performance I will give. Yeah my dear fans, I really said miserable.

Yous, confused.com, right now.

Let me explain. As the most attentive of you might have catched during the past few weeks, it does look like I am not really training that much. As for the rest of you – yes, you you! – here I am telling you now loud and clear that as a matter of fact I am not training at all. I’d love to say “enough” – instead of at all – but that would be a lie and if there is one thing I am not, well that is a lier! Am not tall, rich, gifted, smart, beautiful, funny, skilled, well-equipped, tanned, fit, interesting or cultured either but that doesn’t really matter. Also, as the cleverest of you may already know, twenty-six miles aka forty-two kilometres aren’t really a piece of cake. Not even nearly. Twenty-six miles aka forty-two kilometres are a shit load of miles/kilometres and I know I will hate every single one of them. I’m sorry – my dear fans – but it’s probably time for all of us to face the truth. This whole marathon thing is just not really a job I can get my teeth into. I will do it though, but it will hurt. A lot. But still, I will fucking do it!!!

“Yeah, sure…”

Forget the fact that my knees are fucked. Forget the fact that I drink too much. Forget the fact that I don’t eat healthy food. Forget the fact that I’m not trained enough. Forget the fact that I have doubts myself. Forget the fact that I may go out the night before and sleep in the morning of the marathon. Forget the fact that I don’t even know where the marathon starts. Forget the fact that I don’t even know how to get back home – by ambulance is my fave option though… – . Forget the fact that I still haven’t received neither my number nor the micro-chip. Forget everything. Just remember that I will do it.

I will do it because it’s for charity, don’t you ever forget that I’m doing it for Save the Children! So PLEASE SPONSOR ME!!!

I will do it because it’s going to be a great achievement for myself and something I will always be proud of. And something I can always throw in your faces you lazy bastards!!!

I will do it because you – my dear fans from all around the World – have all been supporting me a lot and I really appreciate that. Fuck aye!!!

My good friend/supporter Borat giving me the thumbs up

But mainly I will do it because you sponsored me, giving money to Save the Children, and there is no fucking way we’ll give you a refund. Nae chance!!!

Nae fucking chance.

BORN TO RUN

Dear fannies,

Sorry, fans. FANS!

Dear fans,

This post is for you. About you and for you.

I know I called it “Born to run” and that’s clearly about me because I am the one that is running and you are just sitting on your couch all day eating crisps and drinking Irn Bru while watching Britain’s got talent because it always takes me ages to update this blog but trust me, this post is for you.

You know, I realized that I don’t thank you enough and that I don’t spend enough time with you so I would love to make it up to you. But then again if you think about it God himself doesn’t spend much time with his fans so you can’t really be too mad at me. It’s just that is too many of you and – I’m not gonna lie – some of you come from country I didn’t even know they existed until I read their names – Yes, I can see the country you visit my blog from! – in the stats. Like Papua New Guinea. P-A-P-U-A-N-E-W-G-U-I-N-E-A!!!

Now don't do that "Aw.. THAT Papua New Guinea..." to me...

Well you, my friend from Papua New Guinea, are my favourite fan.

I don’t know you and I don’t know how did you happen to come and read this blog but I love you. I mean I love you all guys but seriously, Papua New Guinea? I have to love him/her more than anyonelse.

Yes, more than anyonelse. I love him/her even more than Bruce. My good old friend Bruce. Bruce who wrote a song – and named an album after it – for me, Riccardo Hank Lenoci, celebrating my love and passion and dedication to this marathon. Bruce who sent me a signed copy of his great seller album and didn’t even charge me for the delivery. Bruce who became millionaire thanks to this song and promised to sponsor me.

The signed copy of "Born to Run" I got from my good pal Bruce Springsteen.

Yes, my Papua New Guinean friend, I love you more than him.

I definitely love you, all of you, more than Junio. It doesn’t matter that he’s got a cool blog. I just don’t love him that much anymore after he told me that he still doesn’t believe I will run this marathon. According to him I drink too much. I don’t eat healthy food. I don’t train enough. And again I drink too much. He thinks that if I will really take part in this marathon I will end up like this.

Me, according to Junio, halfway through the marathon, at best.

He appreciates my efforts though – that’s what ladies tell me too… – and I always make sure I go and visit him at work on my way home from my run – all sweaty and stinky in my super-cool running outfit which by the way looks awesome and it’s even better now that I bought some professional-ish stuff to wear underneath the t-shirt and the shorts – to show him that I am totally going to do it but, still, he reckons I won’t. Luckily most of you believe in me and I am sure that you’re all just waiting for the next pay day to sponsor me with a donation here or by cash. Smiley face.

By the way I want to thank my sister Valeria, together with my mum and dad, Ale and his family and Robyn – Robyn darling I am waiting for some more cash sponsorship to send a reasonable cheque to Save the Children 😉 – for their donations. Thank you all guys I really appreciate your support!!!

I promise I will… sorry I just got an email from my second biggest fan that would love to tell Junio that I am totally gonna run the marathon and that I am awesome as well and that his blog is quality but still he would love him to see this.

My second biggest fan supporting me at his best.

Right what was I saying? Erm… Well I don’t really remember and anyway The Gladiator just started on the telly and my laptop’s battery is dying and my pizza is almost ready and my can of Tennent’s is almost gone so yeah, I’ll talk to you soon.

Love, Riccardo.

YOU’VE GOT MAIL

Oh, hiya.

So the first good news of the night is that today I finally got the parcel I was waiting for. Another brick in this marathon-wall. Sound!

On my way home from work I met Marcus at Sainsbury’s and we bought dinner.

The second good news of tonight is that we had pizza. To share. And then pasta. One bowl each. Actually I had it in a bowl, he had it in a dish. And bread with Parma ham, as a starter. And coke and vanilla cheescake. Which we bought yesterday but we forgot to eat last night. Classic.

Anyway while opening the door of the flat Marcus told me “You’ve got mail!” and I Lonely Islanded the moment. My package had finally arrived. My packages had finally arrived. I was overexcited.

Me, overweight and overexcited

Once we got in and we chucked all the stuff in the kitchen I ran into my bedroom and found the two parcels there, waiting for me. I was over the moon. There it was, The Parcel. While opening it my hands were shaking, tears of joy streamed down my face: I’ve waited for it for so long and now there it was. Right in front of me. I stared at it for a few moments – that seemed hours to me – and then somehow it was finally open. I carefully pulled its contents out and leaned it on my bed. Wonderful!!!

The parcel's contents: the two A.C. Milan tops I bought online two days ago.

I’m in heaven! I kept saying to myself while trying them on one after the other and having consistent Lonely Island moments.

What I am going to do now is hang the red&black one somewhere in my room – probably next to the one from last season – and wear the black one when training for the marathon.

Right, the marathon! I then opened the second package as well and found all the stuff that Save the Children sent me: some papers and leaflets that will help me fundraising – in addition to my justgiving webpage – and of course my running vest! Which, believe it or not, doesn’t look that bad. Oh no wait, I’m still staring at the A.C. Milan top…

My Save the Children Running Vest. Yes, it says "RUN"...

Can’t really wait to put it on – the A.C. Milan top of course – and go for a run!!! I am sure that it’ll give me some extra-energies and it’ll definitely help me looking less ridiculous than last time I went running. Which by the way it’s yesterday, but let me explain.

Let me briefly tell you first about the second last time I went for a run though. It was last monday – the very next day my 4,7 miles solo sunday run – and it was warm and sunny and life was beautiful even though that was my last day of holiday. James and I ran 5,3 miles in 47 minutes. Route-wise we did something similar to what we did on the previous wednesday – we even managed to get lost at one point but he’ll never admit it… – but we stopped at his this time because his ankle was a bit sore and because – after a pint of water – I just couldn’t be bothered anymore. I then walked home, stretching my legs every two seconds and pretending to walk with a limp everytime someone gave me those eyes like why are you not running, you twat?

Monday's route

Now back to what happened yesterday. I got home from work at 5:20 pm and got ready to start in something like ten minutes: blue shorts and a plain white t-shirt on, laced shoes, some tunes pumping through my mp3 player and I was ready to go and run 10 – TEN – miles. Not even a minute after leaving the building I had to go back to the flat and change my outfit: in spite of the blue sky and the shining sun, it was windy as fuck and pretty cold too. That’s why I went back in and put something more appropriate on.

Me, wrapped up warm, ready to go.

Then I was ready: I walked up the Grassmarket, got on the Cowgate and at exactly 5:40 pm I finally started running. I ran all the way to Holyrood Park, circumnavigated Arthur’s Seat, went through Duddingston and then turned right till Portobello’s border with Joppa, turned right and sprinted all along the Promenade until its end. I then took Portobello Road which quickly began London Road, turned left and got right in front of the Scottish Parliament through Abbeyhill. A bit of uphill on Canongate then left – St. John Street – then right – Holyrood Road/Cowgate – all the way back to the Grassmarket.

Thursday's route

It took me 1h20m to run this 9,6 miles and at the end I was exhausted but happy. And proud. And sweaty and smelly and a bit stoned too I would say. But mainly happy.

What I’ve done yesterday is one third of what I will have to do on May 27th and I must say that I feel quite confident. There are eight more weeks to go and things can only get better. Wish me luck. Or touch wood. Actually touch your balls, because that’s what we do in Italy, like Danny Bhoy – which I love – says here (from minute 2:27).

Cheers.

THE MOST PROLIFIC WEEK SO FAR

Dear fans,

In spite of appearances – being on holiday (yes, again…) all week and being so hungover (yes, again…) all yesterday – and despite all opposition – we’ll get there – I actually had what we may consider the most prolific week so far. Unfortunately I can’t say the same about my fundraising but training-wise it was a really productive week. Nine more and I’ll be done. Not bad!

Now I know that I’m not exactly the living image of an athlete – unless you’re thinking about legends like Paul Gazza Gascoigne, or George Bestie Best, or Iron Mike Tyson… – but with my new personal trainer James’ help I’ll get there. Riccardo Hank Lenoci…

James, the way I see him while training together

Yeah, I forgot to tell you: my pal James is giving his big contribution looking after me and training with me. And even though sometimes he’s a total dick and he speeds up because he forgets that we’re not running the real marathon and he always takes me uphill when he knows I hate running uphill and his chat is shite when he tells me that there’s a quarter of mile left when he knows there is one mile and a half instead I really have to thank him for his help which is much appreciated. Thank you Jim.

So as I said earlier on this week has been really productive: I ran 4,7 miles on monday, I cleaned my room on tuesday, I ran 6,5 miles on wednesday, I went bowling on thursday, got completely drunk on friday, slept all day yesterday and finally ran 4,7 miles again today. A really good week, let me tell you.

To support what otherwise would only be a pointless chatter here’s the route we did on monday, covering 4,7 miles in just about 45 minutes.

Monday's route

Starting from right outside the Scottish Parliament we ran all around Arthur’s Seat, passed the Sheep Heid Inn – the oldest pub in Edinburgh – but unfortunately didn’t stop for a pint, crossed Duddingston – not much to say about it – and ran all the way back to the bottom of Arthur’s Seat via Willowbrae Road and London Road. I then had a pint of their finest tap water at The Last Drop and finally passed out in bed.

On wednesday James and I decided – actually just him because apparently I don’t have the right to speak and all I have to do is run – to change our route and went all the way to the pleasant Portobello.

Wednesday's route

This time we ran 6,5 miles in 55 minutes – pretty good if you ask me – starting again from just outside the Scottish Parliament and running around Arthur’S Seat this time going West. Got on Portobello Road pretty quickly and ran all along the Promenade – where we met loads of other runners that James of course decided to challenge, especially that presumptuous girl that we really couldn’t let escape that easily, and other annoying people such as those stupid little chavs that God help me I would have happily dumped in the sea to swim with the jellyfishes – then turned right on James Street – yes, we did it on purpose – and then all the way down Portobello High Street, Portobello Road and London Road back to where we started. It was a really good training session and I must say that once at home I felt much better than the way I felt after monday’s run.

After a pretty messy weekend I decided to go for a run today. James couldn’t make it but I still managed to get my arse off the couch and go training. Here is where you smile and say “Well done ma boy!” and then go to my justgiving webpage and reward me with a donation.

Thank you.

Sunday's route

Now because I’m a lazy cunt and I couldn’t/didn’-want-to think about a different route to do and because Sergeant James and I and maybe my friend Paolo – yes, that Paolo – are going for a run again tomorrow, I just repeated monday’s route with a couple of little diversions. No, I didn’t stop at the Sheep Heid Inn this time either. Other diversions, but it was mainly the same thing as monday, just with a better soundtrack. Speaking of which I will need your help making one up for the marathon, but we’ll talk about it another time. Today’s report: ran 4,7 miles in 40 minutes and feeling great!

Now if you want to excuse me, while you save your money to make a donation here, I’ll go for a quick and well-deserved pint at the pub. No, not the Sheep Heid Inn, can’t be arsed going that far!

HELP ME HELPING SAVE THE CHILDREN HELP THE CHILDREN!!!

Dear fans,

We all knew when I wrote that a more serious and more detailed post would have followed soon that I was lying right?

Good, thank you Jim. Thanks for your off-site enthusiasm too.

Of course I was lying about the following-soon-thing, you should know me by now, as for the more serious and more detailed part – well – I’ll try my best but I can’t guarantee. Start watching this video – please – and the serious part will be probably over. Then it’ll be my turn to speak. In fact, it’ll be my turn to write. – I know. It was terrible but I couldn’t resist... –

 

 

So here we are, eleven days after that last post, talking about Save the Children and why I chose to run the Edinburgh Marathon for them. Run the marathon for the Children.

“Real children and not invisible children” I could say but I’m not going to: some of yous could take that wrong and I don’t want to create any misunderstanding here. – Yeah I know I wrote it anyway but that was just to say that I don’t want to talk about Kony over here. You want to talk about that with me? Meet me at the Drop or wherever and we’ll talk about it. And-if-you’re-hot-enough-maybe-we-can-talk-about-it-the-morning-after-too-waaaayyyyyyy!!! – All I care about at the moment is explain to you all – my dear supporters – why I am going to run twenty-six miles with a red Save the Children tee on and why and how I need you to help me helping Save the Children help children all around the world.

How you could help me helping them help the children is pretty easy so please do it.

Just to let yous know that twenty quid are better than both a penny and a smile and that I trimmed my beard even though eleven out of fifteen girls from Sneaky’s said that beards are hot.

OVER HERE you can safely donate online through my justgiving webpage. Another way is meet me, have a chat with me and probably a drink or two and I can collect your cash sponsorship and provide you a sponsorship form. Either ways it’s pretty easy so it’s up to you.

Cheers, that would make me even happier than I was on my twenty-first birthday, day this picture was taken.

Now you can only see my left shoulder but I swear my face was pure happiness.

Right, I ain’t no hypocrite. I know that what I am trying to do here – with your help – won’t change much. There will still be children, all around the world, struggling for survival because of hunger, poverty, war, disease, illiteracy, tsunamis and it won’t be my fundraising the solution to the World’s problems but every little helps. Unfortunately there’s not much we can do – we’re not Batman – however donating something to independent organizations such as Save the Children anytime we have a chance is better than nothing. Isn’t it? I don’t want to be too rhetorical and I don’t want to force anyone: I am just giving you one of the above-mentioned chances. I really believe in what Save the Children is been doing all around the world since 1919 and I am more than happy to contribute to it through this whole marathon thing. I would be even happier to have you on our side giving me all the support you’re already giving me and some little extra too. But then again, it’s your money and you’re absolutely free to do whatever you want with it.

Myself, for example, I like to spend most of my money in food and drinks but I’m gonna say no to a few pints and give myself a few quid. Exactly like Chris just did.

Thanks Chris.

You’re a good man. Except when you drink and become a total fanny and you keep pissing me off telling me I’m a nine-till-five cunt and you don’t answer when I repeatedly ask you how many kilometres you’ve run today.