My initial plan, you see, was to run my first ever marathon alone over the original course in Marathon in Greece. But I understand that most of that original course is now under a dual carriageway and the fumes would kill a Chilean miner and it's normally about 100 degrees, even in winter, so I guess it wasn't a great idea after all. Still fancy it, right enough.
While I was pondering that, however, I was asked to join Team HIM at next year's London Marathon by a friend of mine, Mike Greene. As Mike was kind enough to join me last year on the London to Paris cycle, I decided to return the favour by signing up for the Marathon. And I did it quickly before I had the chance to change my mind.
I'm running it for VICTA, a great charity that supports blind and partially sighted kids. Fundraising is their only source of income so hopefully I can do my bit and help the charity help kids that could really do with the support.
So I figure, after all that, how bad can 26.2 miles be? Not that I've ever run that distance. Nothing even approaching it. In fact, until about two years ago the longest I'd run in my life without stopping or being sick was approximately 3km. And I've learned that measuring runs in kilometres rather than miles to make it look like you've run longer is for wimps. Wish me luck.
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