January 24th

ALL I have to do to complete the Flora London Marathon and get my hands on a medal is to put one foot in front of the other about 55,000 times in a row.

Psychologically I prefer to think about it that way, rather than ponder the 26.1 miles. Why would anyone want to run that distance? It’s not healthy, natural, or clever.

But apparently it has its origins in ancient Greek history so everyone has to do it.

There are a few different myths and legends about the origin of the Marathon. One of them says a guy called Phidippides ran the 26 miles from Marathon to Athens in 500BC to announce a victory for the Grecian army against the Persians. But ominously as soon as he delivered the news he dropped dead from exhaustion.

Maybe that explains why running a marathon always seems to be included in those lists of things people must do before they die.

Phidippides was apparently the best runner in Athens at the time so it doesn’t bode well for me and Katie who are not even rated highly at the Ham&High.

‘Doing the Marathon is a big commitment’, people keep telling me. But just like putting off the commitment of going out with a girl until after a Valentine’s Day I agreed with my body to put off my devotion to running until after the gluttonous and booze fuelled festive period.

Well I guess that’s over now so the putting one foot in front of the other training begins in earnest.

In the next few weeks readers should be able to spot me jogging up and down the slopes of Highgate and Hampstead, dashing up the High Streets of Camden and Kentish Town, sprinting through the Heath at night or pounding the treadmill in the gym at the Marriott hotel in Swiss Cottage.

If I make it to the finish line on Sunday April 13 I will do so 10 days before I celebrate my 30th birthday. It feels like this is the best chance I have of doing it before the mid life crisis and depression set in.

But the main motivation is the opportunity to raise money for a great cause. I have seen at first hand the incredible work done by the staff at the Marie Curie hospice in Hampstead and I feel the least I can do is take 55,000 tired strides to raise cash to help cancer sufferers.