Who's The Daddy: ‘Back’ on the open road running away the day’s stresses

The training has more or less been completed, and now it’s a case of tapering down with a few short, gentle jogs and evening strolls before the big day on May 26.

A few months ago daughter #1 joined a running club and trained like a demon. Everything was going great until the family curse of tall people struck last Friday night.

Backs, we’re all backs in our house. From doing up the laces in a pair of Nike Blazers in the spring of 1985 to the boss taking to her bed a couple of days before the first Covid lockdown in March 2020, and getting out of it a week or so later to a world viewed through the looking glass - like the second half-hour of a zombie apocalypse movie - it’s fair to say we know back pain.

Daughter #1 had planned her final big 18km run of her training schedule for early last Saturday morning when, after a long FaceTime with us as she joined in with our chicken salad dinner, she leaned forward at a slightly funny angle after being sat working at her desk all day and it went BANG!

Backs are funny things. You can be in agony one day, then after some Voltarol and resting in a position that doesn’t hurt too much, a few days later it’s like it never happened.

And when you’re superfit and 24, like daughter #1 is, that’s exactly how it played out. Four days later she glided around a 21km run - the full half marathon distance - in a little over two hours, taking in the sights of Salford Quays and Old Trafford, putting in way more effort than the majority of the bone idle crocks who’ve been stealing a living at Manchester United all season.

As anyone who has ever run a long distance race will tell you (Great North Run veteran here, 2012-14), when you’ve trained properly and have the miles under your belt, it feels like money in the bank on the day itself, which is almost enjoyable - almost - unless it’s a scorcher, and then it’s unbearable.

And daughter #2 has got in on the act, currently on week 7, run 1 of the Couch To 5k programme during her last few weeks as a student in Liverpool before graduation at the end of July. Boy, those years went by in a flash.

The apple never falls far from the tree, and our grown-up daughters watched the boss ace the Great North Run and 10km races in Liverpool when they were younger, until her career was cruelly ended when one of our sighthound Walter’s speedy four-legged friends crashed into her knee at full pelt during zoomies in 2019.

But that’s the thing about running. Once you’ve bought a good pair of running shoes and some kit to wear, it’s free. No monthly subscription. Just you and the open road, as your mind empties and work stress evaporates.

They say that once we hit 30, the vast majority of us will never sprint again in our lives, which is probably for the best to be honest. After the number of comedy but serious injuries I’ve suffered while performing the most mundane of tasks down the years, I need a risk assessment before turning over in bed.

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