Let's be honest.... I'm not a marathon runner. In fact I barely look like a 'land mammal' some days. 

But here I am again a mere 6 months after hauling my sorry carcass around London in October for another hilarious round of excruciating pain, loud swearing in front confused strangers, and of course the unique opportunity to fit 10lb of sausage meat in a 5lb casing as I foolishly ordered a medium from NSPCC CONVINCED I’d be able to lessen my significant frame in time for the marathon.

Errrrr….no mate.

Anyway, I’m not a fitness freak. I don’t enjoy this. I’m not asking you to donate to a jolly…I absolutely do not like the pain. I just thought it might be a laugh to make it past 50 so am trying to make corrective behaviours after a few decades of decadence.

So go on, drop a couple of quid to watch me suffer, cos otherwise I’ll only pull out and disgrace myself in a Pizza Hut buffet (do they still do them?) instead.