Marathon runners are super human-FACT. They contain a certain specific that unfortunately yet certainly I do not attain. Don’t get me wrong I have never been unfit, unhealthy or even remotely unhinged when it comes to exercise. In reality, I suppose, I have always found some other grandeur to peruse my time, such as drinking morbidly with friends, watching far too much shitty films on Netflix or consuming my body weight in baked eggs. Not to mention I have never found it that cool to keep fit, opting for the cigarette and alcohol approach to increase my street credibility.


Darren exploded into my life like the canon scene from Barnum and Bailey’s Travelling Circus. Somersaulting, catapulting and refusing to conform, not only did he turn my world on it’s head, he literally turned me on my head too. In no time at all my wavering fitness levels reached an all time high and my ability to morph my body into sculpting different shapes made the impossible, seem possible.


First came TRX, you all remember me hanging off of a door frame or swinging from a tree, right? My physique never looked or felt so good, lean in all the right places with just a hint of feminine muscle definition. As exuberant as I started, I reached boredom with just or even a bit more enthusiasm. Not even the excitement of new abs kept me away from my red wine binges or my lustful relationship with white bread. The Guru needed to step up his game to keep me engaged.


Hello CirqusBodyCore, the one stop shop to peak physical ability! If I wasn’t doing planks on a shipping container or shoulder stands on parallel bars, then I was climbing 8ft walls bare knuckled or slithering up the stairs backwards like a deranged python. My body changed once more. It was unrecognisable, I gained a mass of upper body strength, my muscled shoulders and arms looking more masculine than I had preferred. I could crack nuts with those winged shaped muscles protruding from under my arms pits – yuk! It was all far too much.


So I stopped, kaput, I gave up and I gave in to my old ways once more and instead of finding my inner strength and motivation, I got fat over the winter. I pretended to myself I was happy with my wobbly bum, thick waist and sudden roundness set upon my hips and thighs, I even tried to love the extra pair of boobs that started to grow voluptuously at the bottom of my back. I thought of every excuse not to exercise and thrived on talking myself out of the task in hand. It was too cold, I didn’t have time, I was too busy at work, uni was stressful, I couldn’t leave the dog, anything at all that would prevent me from doing the very thing that not only my body needed (back boobs included) but what my mind so dynamically yearned for. I needed to exercise.


Darren had set himself a challenge and I looked in from a distance with awe and a slight trace of envy. He was to embark on his greatest test yet, to run continuously from London to Brighton covering an epic 100 km. If he can complete that I thought, with absolutely no marathon or even running experience, then I must to commit to a similar trial, set myself a goal, focus on reaching it and overcome any obstacles that prevent me from achieving it. Embroiled in all the running extravaganza my tongue may have slipped, eagerly suggesting that I could, should and would complete the Dundee Marathon this July.


I have just 5 weeks to prepare, my mediocre 10km runs are a drop in the ocean compared to the task in hand. I do not enter this challenge lightly, I understand the commitment and time involved in preparing my mind and body to reach that god almighty finish line. I have a tendency to give in when the going gets tough and remember I am the queen of excuses. But this feels somewhat different, as though I have foreseen the outcome and the triumph that will greet me as I reach my final destination. I need this to prove to myself I have it within me to never give up on life.

This is my marathon journey.

P.s I have written this post from my iPhone, whilst walking home from what was supposed to be a 10km training run but I gave up after 6km, please pray for me.


Long live the VEF and check out Gigi, our wee marathon QUEEN!