Running the London marathon from my shed

Since returning from the book fair I’ve been on a decluttering rampage. It’s a kind of spring-clean taken to extremes: two van loads have gone to the dump and a further two went to a charity shop. It’s not the end of the process because my house is still cluttered, but it helps clear my mind so that I can now focus on writing. Or at least I would be doing that were it not for the new distraction of the London marathon today.

For the previous two years I earned my little medal for coming almost last in this marathon, but I didn’t have a place this year so I stayed at home and set up the television in the shed in front of my treadmill and decided to try a half marathon whilst watching the BBC’s coverage. Fuelled by a cheese sandwich and a can of energy drink I started the machine at ten o’clock this morning, just as the real race got underway.

Watching the pre-race interviews on telly reminded me of how much easier it is to run in my shed than to attempt the real thing. Blackheath, where the race starts, is at the top of a hill. That’s a good thing, because it means that most of the race is downhill. However, you can’t drive up the hill to the starting area, so you end up walking half a mile up a steep slope just to get to the start of the race, cursing every wasted calorie of energy as you go. No such worries for me this year: I just strolled down the garden to the shed, shut the door, switched on Sue Barker and Brendan Foster, and was ready.

My ‘race’ started well, but without the support of the London crowds it was hard to sustain it after the first hour. The only support I had was from a completely uninterested Pooch peeing in the garden and ‘Er Indoors cleaning the barbecue and occasionally waving at me. At least I think she was waving support – she might have been asking for help scrubbing the blackened sausage fat off the grill, but the windows in my shed are double-glazed so there’s no way of knowing.

Anyway, eventually I started to fade. My goal of a half marathon (about 21 kilometres) was revised downward to 18 kilometres, which I managed to complete in an hour and 26 minutes. Since then I’ve barely been able to walk, which has made it tricky getting to the computer to edit my novel. But any pain I’m feeling is nothing compared to that of Cash in the Attic’s John Cameron who I’m sponsoring in his marathon effort. Despite a painful injury (and despite also being advised to drop out of the race) he valiantly battled on and completed the course with virtually no skin left on his feet! He truly deserves his medal today for completing the marathon on behalf of the Cystic Fibrosis Trust. If anyone else would like to sponsor him I’ve put the link here:

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/fundraiser-web/fundraiser/showFundraiserProfilePage.action?userUrl=john.cameron