Last week was marathon week, I think marathons and 2013 will be burnt into many many minds forever. For as long as I can remember – even as an overweight inactive teenager there has always been a spark of inspiration, of longing for endurance running – not built for speed, built for distance – was a phrase I adopted as a hopeful and flabby 14 year old at Woolwich Polytechnic’s (compulsory) annual cross country run. As a 17 year old I remember walking along the A206, near the Woolwich ferry, on marathon day and thinking ‘one day that will be me’.

Last week was a good week of running. I ran 14 miles on Friday which gave me the evidence that the Great Trail challenge is not only an achievable distance, but a smashable distance – By Friday I had achieved all I needed to achieve in my running that week. So on Sunday, watching the highlights of the London Marathon I found my feet were itching, my thighs were twitching my entire body was vibrating from running withdrawal.

My name is BeardyJim and I have a problem.

Even now, as I write this piece and recollect my feelings for you I can feel my ligaments and tendons aching to get out there on the track, the trail – heck – even the treadmill.

So what does one do. Seek help? Go to RA, or like the wolfman do I need to start chaining myself to the armchair on gloriously sunny days?

Shut up shoes, stop goading me with your mud encrusted souls, wearing tread and… ooh you dirty dirty shoes.

Excuse me while I just shut the door.
Breathe.

Right.

So how does one deal with marathon urges when…. Forest Gump (yes I know he’s fictional) sums this up:

“I just felt like running”

So I entered a marathon. Brighton to be precise. Guaranteed entry woo-hoo! SpeedyVic and TheFastOne are doing Brighton too so it might even be a bit of a group bonding experience.

Can’t wait!