Tomorrow I’m racing Mo Farah, Haile Gebrselassie and Kenenisa Bekele. And 55996 other people. In “…the most keenly anticipated half-marathon in recent memory.” Cool! I thought it was just one big fun run!

I’m (literally) fed up with pasta. A big plate of spaghetti with sausage and chorizo sauce for lunch was my metaphorical last supper. Just a snack tonight. My pre-race nerves seem to be centred around the logistics of arrival and extraction rather than the race itself. With 56,000 other runners, their families and friends and everybody else, getting there will be difficult and getting back will be hell.





South Shields isn’t an easy place to get to at the best of times so tomorrow afternoon will be interesting and may well find me waiting it out in a pub. The weather forecast is for heavy rain and high winds. The pub sounds like a plan. And fish and chips.

It has taken me eighteen months to get here, but I’ve only had this run in mind for nine of those months. 100m – 21000m in a year and a half. How long until I can run a marathon?