Life, I have concluded, is more like a fartlek session than a marathon. It jogs along for years at a steady pace – then it passes the second lamppost after the church and vroom! – its head goes down and suddenly it’s thundering along at a five

over 100 miles in one go appals me. I ran 50 miles last year in the Alps and had to be jolted out of a near-death experience with a shot of adrenaline. The Marathon des Sables might have been longer than the Jordan thing, but at least they made you

.And yet the intense feeling of relief that overwhelmed me on that occasion was nothing compared to the all-suffusing ecstasy I experienced as I tottered off Queensboro Bridge into Manhattan at Mile 16 of the New York City Marathon.It was the contrast, I

Given that I dislike New York and loathe marathons, I enjoyed the New York City Marathon immensely.It started well – I managed to avoid getting peed on from the upper deck of the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. I’ve always maintained that during

In the last 20 years, running has become inextricably entangled with fund-raising.Correct me if I’m wrong, but until the first London Marathon we ran only for ourselves. When we turned up in the rain to plod round the Cabbage Patch 10, the last

like simple carbohydrates for turning you into a grotesque parody of the human form, somewhere between a waterbed and an elephant seal.So, when it became clear that I wasn’t going to be able to wriggle out of Rory Coleman’s awful Marathon Of Britain, I

. However, my recent promotion to Demi-God has awakened an interest in the psychological aspects of our sport.For instance, why do I feel just as shagged out after a three-mile race along the Thames towpath as I do after a Mid-Wales mountain marathon

ascetic I secretly aspire to be.Second, I’d love to run a sub-3:00 marathon before I drop. And I feel I’d stand a better chance if I didn’t have to drag my liver behind me in a dog cart.Lastly, I’m interested in what makes us happy. What is happiness

marathon the OMO starts interfering at the first sign of discomfort. “Oi!” he says. “Have you seen yourself? You look knackered, mate. Bloody terrible! And you’ve still got seven-ninths of the race to run. I’ve just worked it out.”The effect is immediate

, and my field of vision is restricted to a 15° arc on either side of my nose.Until I wrecked my suspension during last year’s Swiss Alpine Sad Old Nutters’ 78K Marathon, my only serious running injury had been incurred while stretching. But now I was a