Marathon there and back again I ran the London marathon. There you go it's out there. 26 miles point something. A year of training, worrying and bad fashion choices. It's only dawned on me a month later that I actually done. I will never do it again First of all thank you all for the money you gave me for CHILDREN WITH CANCER UK. We raised over a thousand pounds and I am really touched and grateful. It was wonderful to run in the city that I love so much and the people were wonderful. Running past my house and seeing my lovely friends and girlfriend cheering me on, throwing water at me and screaming was a highlight I will never forget. However, I never what to feel that feeling I had at 20 miles. High on too much glucose and sugar the wall came. Then the wall came back again smashing into me 4 or 5 times. Then a new wall was built over my dead ruined body. #depression hits, you think something is seriously wrong. People are dropping out and falling to the floor. Stretchers are numerous, crying is plentiful. My legs stopped running and I had to walk for two miles and a half. The tube looked like a lovely option. Then I went into a black tunnel somewhere on the embankment. I found a empty toilet. Coming out I was like a new man, the legs worked once more. I ran out of the tunnel on the other side into the end of the world. The heaven's opened and a storm began. It was wonderful. I ran all the way across the finish and cried. What else? The medal is large, like Jim will fix it. The recovery tent to change in was like something from the somme. Men crawling around the floor moaning, half out of their pants with severe cramps. The organisers are hero's. Good luck to you all for next year. I will be outside my house cheering you on. Drunk.
