Crossed Tower Bridge, turned right and felt starving hungry and getting weaker. By this point (just past the 13 mile marker), I knew that if I didn’t do something about it, I would not finish the course.

It wasn’t about will-power but simple physiology - I was running out of energy (don’t know why, because I ate carbs for England during the lead-in). Solution - eat something sugary, and fast. So I stopped at a garage, bought a piece of the wonder confectionery formerly known as a Marathon bar plus an industrial sized bag of wine gums and re-fuelled.

That plus copious quantities of Lucozade Sports did the trick and I was able to stage a full recovery.

Crossing the start

By this time I’d abandoned all thoughts of a sub-4 hour finish. In any case the sheer density of the running pack prevented any attempt at nine minute miles.

It had taken 17 minutes just to get across the start line. The objective was now simply to get round and justify all that arm-twisting fundraising.

The pack never really did thin out but by the stage where I could have chosen my pace, I no longer had any pace to give and it was simply a case of pushing on to the next mile marker.

A guy called Dave made contact somewhere near Deptford Creek – he was also running for CdLS but had decided not to wear the official varicose-vein-and-custard colours (a style decision?).

Psychological high water marks were Cutty Sark, Tower Bridge on the way out (despite the energy loss at this point) and back again, the crowd at Canary Wharf, the Asian drumming band at Limehouse on the way back (couldn’t help but lift my feet in time to that rhythm), the 20 mile marker and Big Ben. Oh, and the finish line.

For me, there was an added emotional layer from a really powerful feeling that I was running on ‘my’ territory. Fortunately I managed to resist breaking out into a spontaneous rendition of ‘Maybe it’s because...’.

Realising a goal

All in all a unique atmosphere, noise, music, well-wishing, costumes, colour, sweat, toil, more toil, more toil still and no tears but a Braeburn sized lump in the throat at the sight of Big Ben and the realisation that I was going to make it. Snapped out of this quickly as inability to breathe can be running career-shortening.

Official time: 4hr 26min 55 secs. Since I registered as a 4hr 30 runner, it was spot-on.

Would I do it again? Yes. What would I do differently? Start training pre-Christmas, not January. Register as a 4hour runner so I could join the pack nearer to the start line. Reduce the training effort (tapering) properly over the final fortnight and not run a half-marathon distance the weekend before as I did this time.

Oh, and write Dozzer in magic marker on my t-shirt so people could cheer me on - I kept hearing ‘Go on Sister!’ You can do it, Sister!’ It took a while before I realised that just behind me was a bloke dressed as a nun...

Cheering us on

Other people had their names written on them and the encouragement was really uplifting. It helps that I have a very common Christian name because I kept hearing ‘You’re doing really well, Steve!’ Even though it wasn’t directed at me, it still gave me a boost.

A couple of girls at Rotherhithe tried shouting ‘Go on www.cdls... or whoever you are!’ but gave up.

Not a single blister (thank you M&S - profits may be down but the double-layer running socks are great) but walking downstairs was a near-impossibility Monday and Tuesday. Now it’s over and it’s pledge collection time.

I set out to raise £2004 for 2004. I’m just over half-way there and I’ll keep it going til I reach the target.