With just 8 weeks notice I was informed I’m doing the London Marathon! Nothing like cobbling together a short notice training plan to make you question your own sanity. Since I wasn’t planning on doing it I obviously wasn’t planning on doing it for charity – I hate asking people for money especially in the current economic climate. Facebook seems awash with JustGiving this and crowdfunding that. But since I’m doing it anyway, even a fiver raised is a fiver going to a good cause so why not open it up for donations, no matter how small.

Next question was who. Mental Health charities are close to my heart as are the PFOA (Police Firearms Officers Association) for obvious reasons. But charity is about other people. So I’ve gone for Diabetes UK. In 2020 at just 3 years old my now step son was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes. A life limiting illness (although that doesn’t stop him tearing about pretending he’s Kylian Mbappe) with at least 4 injections every single day, plus the endless finger pricks, the regular sensor changes, the never being more than a few feet away from his Dexcom monitor and worst of all the inability to just think f*ck it I’ll have another doughnut. That’s on top of the parental worries, the interrupted nights when he’s high/low, the constant anxiety of literally keeping him alive or at least in good health.

So give what you can IF you can. Otherwise just wish me luck, God knows I’ll need it.

UPDATE:

I ran a marathon.

As the old adage goes – How do you know if someone has run a marathon? They’ll tell you.

And you can’t blame them. Any idiot can run but it takes a special kind of idiot to run for 26.2 miles. Yes 26 POINT 2. I always thought a marathon was 26 miles “give or take”. That 0.2 matters. That 0.2 hurts. It was as hard as the first 13 miles. With the next 7 being relentless I can see why they say 20 miles is halfway in a marathon. But I did it, with 8 weeks’ notice, virtually no training and never having run more than 10 miles before my training. I ran a bloody marathon!

What could possibly go wrong?

Normally everything - but ‘proper planning and preparation prevents p*ss poor performance’. And boy was I prepared. From fuelling and carb loading (turns out I’m good at that) to kit prep and route planning. But when your headphones turn off at the start and you need the case to restart them, and that’s on a truck with a thousand other bags making its way to The Mall you have to angrily set off, sans 3hr podcast which had been downloaded specially. BUT…. Turns out this was the best most serendipitous ‘disaster’ ever. From step 1 to step 56,679 the crowds were incredible. Turns out having a single syllable name emblazoned across your chest and no headphones is the best way to run a marathon. So, at mile 6 they were handed over to my amazing support crew Kerry and Helen and I genuinely believe I ran halfway (to 20 miles) and the crowd screaming “Go on Dan!” or “Dan The Man!” ran the remainder for me. They were unbelievable. Particular shoutout to the group that all pointed to me and shouted “Hey look everyone It’s Dan! Go On Dan!”. And the signs made me chuckle most of the way round. “Running better than the government” and reminding me I paid to do this. I particularly like the one that said find a nice bum and follow it round. Good advice that kept me going for a few miles. Although I never did catch his name.

A Good Cause

I never intended to run the marathon until the work ballot selected me 2 months out. So I didn’t consider sponsorship for another few weeks. But I figured I’m running it anyway so why not try and raise something for a worthy cause. My original bio explains the reason for Diabetes UK and as soon as I contacted them to say I’d try and raise a couple of quid for them they were so supportive and encouraging. Supplied with a vest and name stickers (which highlighted my lack of ironing ability) as well as supporters’ hats so I could spot my support crew in the crowd. They even phoned me 2 days before the big day to wish me luck but being an unknown number on a rest day I unfortunately missed that call IYKYK😉

I honestly thought if I raised £50 it was something. To this point I’ve raised an incredible £630 including some of the most generous donations I’ve ever seen. Thank you everybody so much.

*Shameless plea* There’s still time to donate: Donate here

Special thanks to Kerry and Helen for braving the crowds and the transport network for a quick glimpse of me running past. Or was it to make sure I actually did it? Or perhaps just to pause my Strava if I collapsed.

London Marathon? Completed it.

The emotions are indescribable. From the panic on finding out I was doing it (“What have I done”) to a 20mile training run (“Why am I doing this”) to tapering (“Maybe I can actually do this”) to carb loading (“I’m enjoying this”) to the big day (“Oh F*ck I’ve actually got to do this”). Every mile thinking when will it end. What was I thinking I’m not a runner. Every mile wishing it was over, dreaming of the finish thinking never again. Until the 0.2. The 0.2 that hurt. The 0.2 that was harder than the first 13miles. As I reached that point, with some big fancy house on my left I looked up and saw the finish and thought when’s the next one. A wave of emotions coming over me - a sense of euphoria that I’d made it, a sense of relief that it was over and also that I hadn’t let everyone down. But mostly a sense of pride that I ran a bloody marathon! Did I tell you I’ve run a marathon?

Never. Again.

Except if I get in the ballot next year…