I did it. Phew.

Undoubtedly the hardest thing I'd ever done physically, and it took 2 days to recover the majority use of my legs, but it strangely seemed worth it.

The volume of people was amazing both on and off the track, and it took a full 20 minutes to cross the start line. Immediately afterwards a trip to the loo took a further 10 minutes due to the queue, but the race got underway proper (for us tail enders anyway) at about 10.20am.

Things went really well and I clocked up 12.5min miles on target for a 5.5hr finish, but I'm afraid the wheels came off at around 14 miles.

All training had been done in the cool of the Winter and Spring, but race day was a full 20c+ day and the retirements were coming thick and fast. One guy was collapsed at a drinks station, many more were pulled up to the side of the road, some with heads in the hands and others in tears.

You don't see that on the TV but then I guess it does Flora no good to have images of someone keeled over below one of their banners..

It manifested itself personally by overheating, signalled by a racing heart which I'll admit was not a great situation but at least it was easily managed - by slowing down until it passed and then carrying on when I'd recovered. I repeated this process a fair few times until the end.

The feet were very sore, but although they felt pretty alarming I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was actually very little trauma. A couple of blisters, and the infected blister I was so worried about was overcome on the day by adrenaline and Savlon, Rar Rar Rar!

Oh yes, and from mile 16 or so I was on the edge of throwing up which didn't help the hydration regime.

The last few miles were predictably the hardest for a number of reasons. Tiredness, a degree of discomfort, being diverted by the police at one stage off the route for some reason, and being overtaken by Doris who was 70 if she was a day..

Finally as we rounded Buckingham Palace and ran into the mall it became clear that one or two other runners had set their hearts on 33,574rd place and it resulted in a sprint to the line - which I was pleased to report that in our exhausted states I won.

Then came an hour being warmed by the St John's Ambulance in foil blankets, and being pumped full of dialoryte(sp?). Urgh. Apparently I had lost my electrolytes and they needed replacing which is why I was shivering quite badly.

It all seemed odd to me as I didn't feel I had sweated a great deal, and had taken on the isotonic drinks that the marathon crews laid on. When we returned home and I showered though I see what they meant. I was scraping salt from my body in the manner of a salted cod before the oven..

So there we go - one medal which is sitting proudly on the mantlepiece, two stones lost in weight, and three months of apprehension now finished.

I will do it again, probably in 2011 but if I can do it next year I will - I guess it depends if I'm in Blighty or Australia. The additional pre-requisite is the loss of another two stone as a) I want to maintain a 5-5.5hr pace, and b) If I'm honest I think I took some liberties running at my current weight and this marathon running is a serious business.

The pace might not sound impressive, and it's not, but there aren't many runners that are carrying 35kg in ballast around with them and I'd contend that might slow them down a bit. I certainly felt it, and don't want to end up lying at the side of the road with someone fishing for my tongue and a pulse. Which reminds me - I really hope that guy was OK..

As I sign off I'd just like to say a huge thankyou to all my generous supporters on JustGiving and those who braved the London crowds to turn up and support.

Really appreciated.

Speak soon.

Stacy

D-Day.

Well here we are, the last two weeks have been largely anticlimactic because I have been "tapering". This is where you cease your long distance running training two weeks prior to the marathon to build up sufficient strength for what lies before us.

Unfortunately, due to various other demands I haven't been tapering so much as jumping from a cliff. I've done pretty much naff all the last couple of weeks and it's not been for the want of trying. Attempts to squeeze in an evening run have been thwarted every time by some disaster or urgent deadline, and the latest problem was the very unwelcome return of the foot infection I had at the very start of this campaign.

As I type I am, with a degree of panic involved it should be said, spraying the offending area incessantly with Savlon trying to stop it spreading as previously, so as to aid healing (if it's possible) for Sunday.

I guess this means I will be in pain from mile 1 as opposed to, well, mile 2 but it's not A Good Thing by any means. In these situations I like to ask myself "What would Ranulph Feinnes do?".

Cut the offending toe off with a fret saw and do the run anyway. So on that motivational note I really have little choice.

On a more positive note I have been to the Excel centre in London to sign on and pick up my racing number (46239). My usual racing number (35, or let it be said - 1!) was already allocated to runners of a slightly higher standard than I, much to my disappointment.

The show itself was notable on many levels. Firstly I navigated the DLR before alighting and making my way to the centre, taking in the motivational slogans they'd thoughtfully hung from the rafters and what seemed to be "Chariots of Fire" playing from the loudspeaker. "Impossible is Nothing" was the strapline.

Nothing? Not sure I agree, and not so much Chariots of Fire as Benny Hill but bless them, the thought was there.

What also amused were the quantity of Flora jacketed marshalls floating around the atrium ensuring all the marathon runners were directed to the correct area and handing out leaflets. I of course managed to walk past all of them unmolested..

Once inside I registered and wandered about picking up my various "marathon goodies". I have attached the photo here, and it includes;

Carb gels (both for running and post running), pace wristband (I had to take 5.5hrs as that was the slowest they had), carb snack bars, lucozade drinks, racing number, safety pins, timing chip for shoe (no cheating allowed), anthony Nolan T-Shirts for supporters, motivational banners for supporters, motivational air horns x 4, supporters ponchos if it rains, cranberry sauce (I haven't a clue), a Flora 2009 London Marathon Mug (I'm keeping that), deoderant in several flavours and a can of London Pride bitter (dishwater in a tin - they've lost me with this one).

I have also solved the problem of the running vest. The one they sent was sized for a human, and thus was frankly not a good look for me. We have resolved the issue by cutting it down the sides and stitching it over one of my faithful Harley Davidson T-Shirts (Thanks Clare) which is shaped for the more ample gentleman. The resulting vest/shirt fits pretty well, although I was alarmed to note it was not especially slimming in profile.

I am also pleased to report that I have raised well in excess of the £3,000 target I set, so many many thanks to all the generous contributers.

So there we are. I hope that Savlon will come to my aid, but either way it's time to step up to the plate or otherwise.

The count down has begun.

Stacy

The Wall

I hit the wall this morning. Even with my mass, it didn't move..

It's aptly named too. It was around the 15 mile mark and within seconds I went from relative comfort to a sense of being hollowed out. The last few calories had been thrown on the fire, and once burnt I was reduced to staggering around in the manner of someone who's been hit over the head with a mallet. Or indeed, someone who's just run into a wall.

This comes on the back of a) A 10 mile run a couple of days ago, and b) an empty stomach. I had neglected to take some of my gel packs with me and paid the price. Never again, it was a very long slow walk back home. I hope very very much that I pre-empt this on race day, those that say the distance beyond 13 miles is in your head are mistaken - It's very much in your legs..

On other unrelated matters I have installed a new door bell at home. Stay with me.

I fitted it up, test fired it and selected a suitable tune. Well, OK then, the least disagreeable tune which in fact was "dogs barking". Since it needs to be played quite loudly the idea of "Banjo on my Knee" every time someone came to the door was quite disturbing. For all parties I imagine. So in the absence of a "Bing Bong" selection the dogs it was.

At first I was amazed at how many people came to our door. I had left the old one in place and not working for many months, leaving many a Tom, Dick or Harry pressing the duff bell and waiting patiently before finally giving up. I just thought our lack of visitors was reflective of our local (un)popularity.

Apparently not so. I was thus also amazed at the persistence of the Tom's, Dick's or Harry's who not put off by their previous experiences are still pressing the button and vying for our attention. Postmen, Local Village Groups, Newsletters, Youth Groups, Charities, Pizza delivery companies and Burglars checking if you're in. It's all very new and very exciting indeed.

However, after 48hrs or so the bell started to randomly cycle through the tunes every time someone pressed the button. It's now settled finally, permanently, and irrevocably, on "Banjo on my Knee". Which is played at full volume, until I appear at the door usually dressed in my underwear.

Strangely, my number of visitors is going down again..