When I told one of my best friends in August that I was running the NY Marathon, she said "Which year?".  Those who know me will testify that ergonomics at the very least would hinder my chances of success and that they've only really seen me break into a trot at the sight of a nicely chilled bottle of Chardonnay in the fridge.

But on 7th November 2010 I'm going to do the NYC Marathon and I'm doing it for The Snowflake School for Autism in Earl's Court, London.  My son Caspar is 7 and is autistic. He has recently been lucky enough to get into this incredible school where they implement a curriculum based on Applied Behavioural Analysis - an intensive system of learning requiring a lot of one-on-one tuition and a specially tailored curriculum.   

The National Autistic Society research shows that there are currently 133,500 people under the age of 18 diagnosed with autism in the UK.  Autism is a developmental disorder affecting many areas of functioning but is especially evident when it comes to communication and social interaction.  Many autistic children never learn to talk and find it difficult to learn in a way that neurotypical children learn.  Local Authorities are trying hard to provide suitable educational provisions, but they cannot cope with the growing number of children on the spectrum.

Faye Akhavan founded the Snowflake for precisely this reason.  She simply couldn't find an appropriate school for her son.  She started with 1 child (her own) and is now up to 9, with a capacity for 15.  During our interview I found her story so emotional I had to put my sunglasses on to hide my blubbing - which I'm sure she found odd, but in a school for the autistic, different is OK.     

The school is called the Snowflake because no two snowflakes are alike.  With Faye and her staff we are able to celebrate our children's little victories, laugh at our dysfunctional family lives and find comfort in the company of others in the same (slightly leaky) boat.  

Anyone who has a child with a disability will understand me when I say that you almost love them more because of it.  I don't know if I'll ever be able to have a conversation with my son, but his eyes have been dancing in a way recently that I haven't seen before.  It's as if he knows that he's finally somewhere he can be heard.

It's moments like this that will help me focus as I haul my bits around 26.2 miles of NYC after all these months of training. Also, the knowledge that any monies raised will help the school to grow and in turn enable it to offer more children this gift.  

No donation will be deemed either too flashy or insignificant!