the marathon

back in the day, i used to do quite a lot of running. my foreman(george) got me into it. at the time, i was playing football 5 times a week, but had spare energy.i eventually got the running shoes on, and off i went, about half a mile down the canal, and then back. it was a different kind of exercise, and was proper fucked. the day after, i managed the same run, without stopping, but still quite knackered.

i was soon entering 10k road races, and under pressure from george, half marathons i did manage a couple of sub 40min 10k's, and not a bad half marathon time of 98 minutes, but the boss wanted me to do london. he had been pushing me to do it for 2 years, and i finally agreed in 96? i think, the nutrasweet.i got in on some other guys entry, who had broke his leg.

i trained hard, but the furthest i had run, by january, was 19 miles. georgre said i would be fine, only another 7 miles, and the cheering crowd would aid me to the finish. i was shitting it.

three weeks before london, i got hit hard on the astro turf, i had been warned not to play any footy leading up to the race, but i loved it. the injury was bad, my left knee. george advised total rest, and then see how i feel in 10 days. so when i did a 5 miler, 10 days on, i thought i had got away with it. he told me, the amount of training i had done for the past few years, would see me through.

we caught the train down on the friday, and checked into our hotel. we got our selves ready, and out on the town. not to many, but a good night, followed by a morning run, 3 mile max.the saturday night, we attended a pasta party, which adds stamina

sunday, back pack ready, we headed to the start. the back pack went on a lorry, and was taken to the finish area.the conditions were perfect,lite rain, not to warm. i took on lots of water, and cruised through the first 10 mile. i stopped for a piss at 3/6 and 12 mile. the last stop at 12 miles, i realised something was wrong. i looked down, to see the left knee swelling.i soldiered on, but at 15 mile, i stopped at a st johns. i was hoping for some magic spray, but the nurse told me straight, sorry love, your race is over....it that it? is it my choice? can you stop me? the st johns guy said no, but strongly advised against continuing.

being a smart ass, know it all, i did. i jogged and limped to 19.5 miles, then the knee gave in.it was pretty fucked by now, and i felt at an all time low. i had my rovers top on, and the crowd had been havin some top banter with me,cheering me on.........i was gutted.

i manage to get the tube to the finish, where i had to rejoin the runners for the last half mile, so i could collect my kit. i think the crowd, the occasion and the last of my adrenalin, made me jog through the finish, at a respectable 3 hours 41 mins.

as i went through, 2 of the volunteers came rushing towards me, a sexy milf, and 20 something geek. she kissed me on the cheek, and said well done, then clapped me?he put the medal around my neck, hold on, i told her right away, sorry doll, i got injured, i only did 19.5. she looked me in the eye and said, look, keep the medal, no one will ever know........with a tear in my eye, i took it off, and said, i'll fuckin know.

what would you have done?