Source: www.wildcoast.co.za

I’ve decided to pot the Red Bucket on ice for a short while as some stuff happening in my personal world means that I’m not going to have the time or inclination to blog about my running exploits.

Most recently I’ve been enjoying the Juneathon updates and wish everyone the best of luck with that. And you’ll be able to hear what I’ve been up to vicariously through Jo’s blog, of course.

I’ll be back soon, I’m sure, but for now the Red Bucket is an ice bucket.

Today’s big event was a trip to the dentist for a visit to the witch hygienist, a filling and have a crown fitted. Actually, the hygienist turned out not to be witch-like at all (or maybe she just cast a spell on me), but the dental work was less pleasant and five hours later, my mouth is still numb.

But it didn’t stop me getting out for a run. Oh no. It’s Juneathon after all (ahem). Actually my runs have definitely shortened during Juneathon and tonight I only ran about 3.5-4 miles, aided by my Big Hair Rock playlist on my ipod. Still, little and often doesn’t seem to be a bad tactic (it seems to be working for others), as long as I keep it up.

Day 8 was very close to being a no show on the Juneathon front. I was due to meet a friend after work for a drink and while I didn’t manage to resist the beer completely, I did keep it to just the one pint before heading home for some outdoor garden circuits.

OK, the session wasn’t exactly intensive, but I managed to get push-ups, sit-ups, the (dreaded) plank and a load of other mostly-anaerobic exercises in. Hopefully it was enough, at least, to burn the beer off I drank earlier on.

So, it’s been a full week of Juneathon. How am I fairing? Well, not all that brilliantly to be honest, but it’s still all to play for. My Juneathon chart below shows that I’ve done more than I’ve missed, with running accounting for the most (43%) of my Juneathon activities. The bad news is that only represented about 11.5 miles. Must. Try. Harder Next. Week.

I’ve realised that Juneathon isn’t so much a challenge from a physical fitness point of view, it’s just going to be so damned hard to fit in a daily portion of exercise every single day.

The weekends are fine – we did an uneventful 3 mile run this morning – but it’s in the week that it’s a challenge. Next week I’ve got at least one evening event, which means trying to squeeze a run in in the morning. And apart from not being a morning person, I’ve been tending to be going in a little earlier at the moment, because work’s quite busy.

And, to top that off, the World Cup’s about to start. Who’s idea was it to hold a football tournament during Juneathon?! I’m not a massive football fan (in the sense that I don’t see the point of hurling abuse at someone for no other reason that they’re a ‘Yid’ or a ‘Gooner’, for example) but I do quite like the World Cup. I might even have to consider getting a TV license for the first time in three years and join the terrestial television watching world (the pub, filled with the ‘real’ football fans, as described above, doesn’t really appeal).

Never mind, I’ll work it out. Tomorrow’s Touch Rugby, so that the start of the week sorted.

Right, not long to write this as I’m waiting for a pizza to cook, which I need to eat before dashing off to go to a wedding. And before you worry that my Juneathon efforts are turning to fat, after yesterday’s events, then I did go for a run today around Dinton Pastures. A muggy, fairly slow 5 miles, but a run nonetheless.

Juneathon day #4 was never going to be that good on the exercise front. I had to be in the office early to prepare for a presentation and was due to meet up with Manchester mates Steve and Karen in town in the evening. So, my walk to the train station was the nearest thing I got to proper exercise. I used my iPhone RunKeeper to give me the lowdown:

• Distance: 0.98 miles
• Time: 15.52
• Average speed: 3.7 mph
• Calories burned: 97 (that barely covers my breakfast when I got to the office!)

Hardly anything to boast about. To make matters worse, the cheeky beers were rounded off by a visit to McDonalds for a Texas Grande Meal on the way back (if you want to see what a Texas Grande looks like, have a look at this lady’s pic – it ain’t pretty). A bit fat McFail for me then.

Tonight was one of those nights where I quite easily could have missed out exercise altogether – if it wasn’t for Juneathon.

I got an email from a client in the afternoon inviting the team down to a mystery event in aid of the new version of the Tears for Fears song, Shout.Produced by Simon Cowell and featuring James Cordon and Dizzee Rascal, it’s an unofficial England song called Shout for England.

It turned out that there was beer, food and the expectation of joining the chorus line, which was filmed to potentially go in the video. I managed to resist the temptation to drink more than one beer and scoff too much food in the hope of doing a run when I got back. I’m not sure my (almost) puritan attitude did much for my singing voice. We all sounded a bit like a rabble, but it was strangely good fun.

Thankfully my willpower was intact when I got home, even though it was 9pm before I set off. I knocked off a 3.5 miler in about half an hour and warmed down while watering the plants. Rock and roll.

Better late than never. Juneathon officially began yesterday. The challenge is to exercise – ideally a run – every day, then blog about it.

Only yesterday I had to work late, so my Junethon challenge began in earnest this evening with a play in the woods on my mountain bike. After picking up a load of blisters walking at the weekend, biking seemed like a good second choice and I joined the rest of the thirty something men zooming around the woods after work.

Let’s hope the judge and independent adjudicator don’t judge me too harshly by starting late. After all, there’s a pair of trainers from Fitness Footwear and Audiofuel tracks up for grabs for the winners at the end of the month.

If you want to learn more about Juneathon, check out the FAQ. Good luck to everyone taking part.

I really think that drinking three pints of beer post-Touch Rugby is a bad idea. Unless, of course, you play three matches, which is what happened last night.

First up, we managed to get a friendly game against another team whose opponents didn’t turn up. I even managed to score a tri and we played pretty well as a team.

Then it was our league game, which didn’t go so well. Not only did I fail to score, but we were the wrong end of a 5-3 scoreline. At least the team’s namesake Michael managed to get on the scoreboard and is currently our top tri scorer this year, all the more remarkable given that he spent seasons without scoring. I know how he feels.

Our de facto (he’s the most experienced player) coach Nick reckons we’re all improving game by game, but I think he’s just being nice.  I would say, however, that now into my second year of playing, it is all starting to make a bit of sense, even if our league position doesn’t reflect the improvement.

After playing two games, the pub beckoned, but then three guys came over and asked if a few of us fancied being ringers, as a car load of their team failed to show. Given the opportunity to run my frustration off, I accepted, along with Andy (probably our second best player) and Rashid.

I felt like a boy on the first day of ‘big school’. It was the serious men’s league and the Aussies had been playing alongside each other since they were kids. There were cross-overs, 30 yard passes and it was all very fast. I could blame the fact that it was my third game of the evening, but the reality was that I was well out of my league.

But, by virtue of being randomly in the right place at the right time, I managed to get a tri and we finished the game 4-1. They were delighted and bought us all a beer – the alternative for us not playing was having to throw the game – and Rashid and I just about held our own (Andy wouldn’t have looked out of place in their line-up). Let’s see if playing with the big boys helps our game next time.