Hell's bells.
What if I get overtaken by the man in the antique deep sea diving outfit?
What if I can't climb over my 'wall'?What if I get surrounded by a group of runners in wacky fancy dress and can't get out?
As you can tell, my hysteria is now much more under control. For those of you reading this who have no idea what I'm talking about: I've got a place in next year's London Marathon, in a 'golden bond' style place secured for me by The Samaritans. In return, I'm to do some serious fundraising for them and my aim is to raise a minimum of £2000. Ouch, in oh so many ways.
I'm not a total running newbie. I did the Robin Hood Half Marathon a couple of years ago and although it is fair to say that I'm not what could be described as a 'natural' sportswoman, I do try. I do, however, distinctly recall an episode very close to the end of the half-marathon when, as the marathon runners course split from the halfies route and the sun was beating down, I thought "Thank god I'm not doing that, I'd never make it", shortly before feeling extremely sick and dizzy and coming to a grinding halt. I had to stop to walk for the very first time throughout the entire half-marathon to compose myself and not get dragged off the road by eager St Johns Ambulance staff, when the flippin' finishing line was well in sight. I was very disappointed with myself, but I did still jog over the line and collected my lovely, cherished silver foil blanket, shortly before woozing my way home to lie down for a very long time, with bright colours dancing before my eyes. Thankfully, at the time I lived in staggering distance of the finishing line.
I will have no such luck in London.
Still, I can be a pretty determined and single-minded lady and I know I'll get over that London Marathon finishing line by hook or by crook. Even if it means sliding over the line, seal like, on a slick of chafe-preventing vaseline.
I'm not a total running newbie. I did the Robin Hood Half Marathon a couple of years ago and although it is fair to say that I'm not what could be described as a 'natural' sportswoman, I do try. I do, however, distinctly recall an episode very close to the end of the half-marathon when, as the marathon runners course split from the halfies route and the sun was beating down, I thought "Thank god I'm not doing that, I'd never make it", shortly before feeling extremely sick and dizzy and coming to a grinding halt. I had to stop to walk for the very first time throughout the entire half-marathon to compose myself and not get dragged off the road by eager St Johns Ambulance staff, when the flippin' finishing line was well in sight. I was very disappointed with myself, but I did still jog over the line and collected my lovely, cherished silver foil blanket, shortly before woozing my way home to lie down for a very long time, with bright colours dancing before my eyes. Thankfully, at the time I lived in staggering distance of the finishing line.
I will have no such luck in London.
Still, I can be a pretty determined and single-minded lady and I know I'll get over that London Marathon finishing line by hook or by crook. Even if it means sliding over the line, seal like, on a slick of chafe-preventing vaseline.
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