Dear Obstreperous Readers,
OK, OK, apologies for being off duty for the last couple of weeks - so, I was having a good time!

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I’m just sending you bloggies this explanatory memorandum so that you can understand me if I experience a throwback now and then and suddenly skew off into making use of enigmatic words.

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Yogaaaah!

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I had a wonderful training run yesterday. It was when I discovered that the treatment I’d had from an Osteopath last week had worked - and worked amazingly well. Instead of taking 9 secs for the 40m as in the last few months I got the time down to 7.9. That equates to roughly 2 seconds over 100m.

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Excuses! Excuses! No, reasons let’s say, not excuses, reasons for losing the plot these last few weeks. And my apologies for it.

Reason 1: Holiday time, most of my dear old readers have been on holiday, I even met some while I was away!

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Here’s the best way to find fitness, health, speed, staying power and personal confidence for those who’ve arrived at man’s estate (women’s included, as ever). Is there else anything you’d want? Of course there is, it’s something so important it could never be left out, yes, bloody good sex. (Should that be effing good sex?) All guaranteed!

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Here’s me before my first race, after which I quit for good.

And here's STAGE THREE of How Running is the easiest and best Cure for Smoking - the Money to be Made.

(See previous blogs for the earlier Stages)

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New readers start here, to mug up on the essence of Stage One, which was covered in my last Blog. There's only one surefire way of quitting – become a runner.

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I can see that a number of sceptical people are wondering when I’m finally going to come out with a campaign of some sort.

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My dear old Bloggies

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Well, a persons Blog can be many things, a straightforward diary, a message to the world, a serial story, a confession... Anybody got any suggestions for other services it can handle? Let me know, by registering lower down and commenting there.

In my case it's a bit instructional, with loadsa sugary bits around the useful pill, which ranges from advice to elite sportspeople and ordinary club members with some aspiration and ambition in them. Even the merest beginner or simple seeker after fitness or weight-loss can get ideas from it.

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Well, I’m rather surprised at myself. I said in my last blog that this time I’d be reporting the feedback posted after my recent mention of Geoffrey Cannon - and amazingly, I’m actually doing it now…

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Mr Z we take as our model to be studied; for he boasts a vocabulary almost on a level with those of some of the lesser philosophers.

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I’ve promised three times so far to write a blog about a dog - and now the time has come. The advantage to you harassed bloggies who will read this is that it’s not as intensive as usual; call it a recovery period from training if you like, part of every athlete’s discipline. Nor must we forget that veteran athletes would do well to keep a dog, for as I’ve said it gets them out for an extra aerobic session a day.

The life and times of Mr Zimby

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Although I’m on the Council of Ash, I never try to nag people into quitting, it rarely works. Instead, if someone doesn’t look horribly overweight, I just tell them to take up running – forget about trying to give up the habit, just join a cross-country or road-running club.

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Parkour, does that mean anything to you, in the sporting context? Or what about Urban Free Running? Or traceurs?

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A roast chicken dinner will show you exactly what sort of athlete you are. Who knows, you may have ended up in the wrong end of the wrong sport, leaving you with much less chance of glory, or even of making the team.

Cordon Bleu, Lesson 1:

The bird is there on your big blue platter. Whet your carving knife and slice a goodly section off the breast. Under the skin the meat is a clean, clear, white.  Next  dissect the drumstick, our late chick’s leg-bone. That’s of course the brown meat, which many prefer.

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People say I’m the oldest blogger in the world, in spite of there being a lady aged 117 on the web, but can you count her officially, she just speaks her thoughts to a carer who types it in? Good luck to her anyway.

What people are more amazed at, however, is that I was born on Christmas Day, what an achievement they think, never mind that as well as being a novelist, a playwright, a publisher... I’m also British sprint champion for my age. I beat everyone over 80 this year at the National Championships at Lee Valley.

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For a start this is only for people who don’t hate dogs, sport, blogs, exercise, Africans, nostalgia, therapists, books, athletes, the Over 80s, the Arizona desert  and (unlike W C Fields) – kids.

Because those are the things I’ll be writing about. I’ll probably begin with the story of the desperate hours of me and my dog after training one day.

See you again soon then, dear bloggies.

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