"London Marathon 2025: Getting in Shape Again for the Ultimate Running Challenge!"

Back to work today. The alarm went off at 5am, with all the grace and charm of a fire drill in a monastery. I lay there for a moment, blinking into the darkness, wondering which life decisions had brought me to this precise point—specifically, the one where I willingly agreed to run 26.2 miles through London in front of thousands of people with questionable signage. But up I got, limbs creaking into motion like a badly written spell trying to animate a skeleton. Getting dressed in the early morning chill felt like an act of silent defiance. Coffee helped. A lot. And by the time I reached work—just after sunrise—I’d managed to transition from “shambling spectre” to “functioning human.” There’s something oddly comforting about watching the world wake up while you’re already moving. The streets were quiet, the sky streaked with soft pinks and golds and for a few peaceful minutes, it felt like the universe was tiptoeing into Tuesday right alongside me. The Most Uneventful Run in Human Hi...

Birthday Bliss Being a Bank Holiday Monday, I enjoyed that rarest of treasures: a birthday that didn’t involve a staffroom, emails, or muttering “thanks” to a Year 10 who says “happy birthday” like it’s a diagnosis. Instead, I woke up to the gleeful noise of children bouncing off the walls and Kelly wielding a pile of presents like the world’s most cheerful postie. Among them, the absolute gem: tickets to see the Gladiators live tour in November. Yes, actual Gladiators . There was a moment I thought about challenging my family to “Duel” over who loved me the most, but then I remembered the cake. Just a Little Trundle Now, you might imagine that being both my birthday and taper week would result in me doing what any rational person would do: sit down, stay there and perhaps eat more cake. But alas, the schedule called for a 30-minute recovery run, and as every runner knows, taper doesn’t mean stop , it means “run a bit, but feel smug about how little you're doing.” So I set off...

After yesterday’s VO2 Max session – which felt like being chased up a steep hill by the ghost of poor pacing decisions – I greeted today’s training with a sense of deep gratitude. On the plan? A gentle 28-minute recovery run. No heart-rate zones to stress over, no watch screaming at me to go faster, no silent judgement from passing cyclists. Just movement for the sake of movement. After the lung-burning brutality of yesterday, this run felt like slipping into a warm bath. The pace was slow. Deliciously, intentionally slow. I focused on staying relaxed, keeping my stride soft and doing that thing where I pretend I’m in one of those inspirational sports montages! Backchat The ongoing grumble from my back didn’t quite fade into the background today, but it wasn’t the loud, blaring alarm it had been yesterday either. More of a quiet protest, the kind you get from someone reluctantly dragged into helping you move house. It still made its opinion known during the first few minutes of the ...

Morning Drama and the Case of the Ignored Alarm After yesterday's osteopath appointment, I had no idea what to expect when I got out of bed this morning. Would it be pleasure? Would it still be pain? Or would it be that peculiar middle ground where you can’t decide if you’re healed or just temporarily distracted? To begin with, I ignored my alarm for fifteen minutes, which immediately introduced an element of chaos to the morning. Nothing quite gets the heart pumping like realising you’ve lost a quarter of an hour before the day has even started. I sprang out of bed—well, rolled out gingerly—and made myself a coffee before heading off to Rochester. A Surprise at The Math School It wasn’t until I arrived at The Math School that I realised something miraculous: my back was not hurting as much. There was still some soreness, but the searing pain running from my back through my hip into my leg had—dare I say it—disappeared. It was an unexpectedly excellent start to the day. However, my...

A  Wise Pause Today was a day of choices, and for once, I made the sensible one. The pain in my back continues its stubborn residency, refusing to move out despite increasingly forceful eviction notices. With an early start required for a Mother’s Day outing for Kelly and the girls at Gulliver's Land in Milton Keynes, resting the back for another day was not just logical but, dare I say, an act of wisdom. The Long Haul to Milton Keynes If there’s one thing a sore back doesn’t appreciate, it’s being folded into a car seat for two hours each way. Milton Keynes may be a marvel of roundabouts and efficiency, but even its best-planned infrastructure can’t offer a shortcut to comfort. Still, it was worth every jolt and judder to spend the day celebrating Kelly and ensuring she was suitably pampered. The Recovery Plan Having survived the drive, tonight’s strategy involves a bath loaded with Radox salts and a thorough application of the massage gun, wielded by an overenthusiastic Kelly. If...