It's (very likely it will have) been emotional

I’d like to apologise to my friends and family – for the emotional wreck I’m inevitably going to be on race day.

It began last weekend when Caroline and I ran our ‘official’ pre-London half marathon in Fleet. From about mile five I found myself pacing with a 70-year-old (I know this detail because someone shouted from the crowds: ‘That’s Bill, he’s 70!’). And yes, I know, keeping up with a pensioner is nothing to write home about, but this was no ordinary old man. Not only did he have a full head of (dyed) blue hair, he had speed (8.5-minute miles) and was, to put it mildly, a chatter.

‘Hello petal,’ he’d quip, as we passed a man running for Marie Curie wearing the cancer care charity’s sunflower emblem on his head. ‘Ooo, look, a buzzard,’ as a large bird of prey hovered above us. And ‘thanks marshal’ to each and every volunteer who lined the route. ‘Keep going old chap, like the hair,’ they’d reply – he was clearly well-known around these Hampshire parts.

I’m happy to report that I managed to lose Bill on a particularly long stretch of uphill around mile nine, but the inspiring efforts of this super-fit, super-friendly 70-year-old were the first of several things to bring a lump to the throat this week.

Another was the arrival in the post of my official race number – 39,820, if you’re interested – and swathes of information about what to expect on race day. I can’t get enough of these details and sup them up greedily. Reading about the finish procedure on the tube to work I rather embarrassingly welled up imagining my exhausted but hopefully proud self being reunited with my nearest and dearest after 26 miles.

With four weeks to go a friend’s 30th birthday this weekend marked my last alcoholic drink until 25 April. And Easter has the longest training run – 21 miles – in store, followed by a three-week wind down. It’s all becoming quite real, but if I can’t hold it together now, just thinking about marathon day, the race itself is likely to be a tear-fest. The friends and relatives would be wise to pack the tissues.