WELCOME TO THE RUNNING ON EMPTY LAUNCH PARTY

Hi and welcome to the online launch party for my book: Running on Empty: Diary of a Marathon Mum, which will be running from 8-15 June 2006.

If you haven't been to an online launch party (or any online party for that matter!) don't worry, it's not as weird as it seems. Just chill out as you would for a normal party, have a drink (at least a metaphorical one anyway) and find some people to chat to.

There is a little spot just for runners to talk about their PBs, injuries and best ever runs without boring the pants of non-runners.

And for non-runners, pull a stool up at the bar and join in the chat about everything and anything you can think of. Runners, of course are welcome there too (unless you're purifying your bodies of course!).

There's also a competition to win a signed copy of my book. And a couple of discussion forums for people to chat away about the things that bug them.

And of course... ever the self-promoter (me, I will happily confess to being a tart when it comes to selling books, particularly my own), you can buy a copy of the book...

And if you're still here and not got drunk and disgraced yourself in the corner, you might like to read my Diary of How to Sell a Book When You Don't Actually Have One...

So please, introduce yourself here, and tell me what you're wearing, what you're drinking, who you've come with. (And yes, you are allowed to exaggerate - I am a writer after all. So let's just say, I've pulled up in my stretch limo, and am wearing a fabulous little black number designed by Armani, who is of course, a personal friend...)

Crack open the bubbly, chill out and enjoy....

Juliax

I would like to extend my huge thanks to the following people:

Kate Allan for coming up with the idea of an online launch party in the first place, and generously not minding me pinching it!
My many friends in the Romantic Novelist's Association who have been such a support.
The lovely Wesham Road Runners, in particular Brian Porter and Brenda Earnshaw. Good luck to all those running in the Freckleton Half Marathon on June 18!
My mad twin sister, Virginia, without whom I would never ever have contemplated running a marathon.
My lovely husband, Dave, for putting our marriage on the line and daring to tell me what was wrong with the book!
And in particular to John Inverdale for generously mentioning my book on Radio 2 and setting me on my way...

COMPETITION TIME!

I have been running a competition on my website for anyone who can either name something you see running the London Marathon that you don't see on TV, or if you haven't yet run FLM (and you must, oh, you must!) the funniest thing you've seen out running. And ok, ok, if you're not a runner, you can enter by telling me the funniest thing you've seen out walking then.

My funniest thing was going for a cliffside run in Spain. I found the path I was running along had disappeared, and the only way forward was to scramble over some rocks, and leap into the water to get to the beach I was headed for. As I came round the corner, ready to leap, I met several rather large Spanish Senoras, fully dressed, having a splash about in the sea. It was a tossup as to who was more nonplussed...

The winner will receive a bottle of bubbly, and the two runners up a signed copy of my book. There, I can't say fairer then that, can I?

To enter, email me at: jules@marathonmum.com

I'll post the name of thewinner at the end of the party...

RUNNER'S FORUM

Whether you're a complete newbie or established marathon runner (or even an ultra runner - you crazy person), pull up a stool, kick off your trainers, and chat about all things running here...

And if you're not a runner, why not eavesdrop, and then you'll understand what a totally obsessive sport this running malarkey is. (I'm obsessed and I still don't count myself a proper runner!)

BUYING THE BOOK

Now come on now, you didn't think you were going to come to a launch party and not be sold something did you? Like I said, I'm a tart, me, I'll sell my books to anyone who'll buy one...

However, as you've been brilliantly supportive enough to come to my online party, here's the deal.I offer you the book at the fabulously discounted price of £5.99, plus £2 p&p (sold in the shops for £8.99), and I'll even send you a signed copy. How about it?

To order the book email me at: jules@marathonmum.com, and I'll send you an order form. If you have paypal you can pay me that way. And remember a percentage of the profits from Running on Empty, will be going direct to Tadworth Court's Children's Trust.

To find out more about the fabulous work they do, visit: http://www.thechildrenstrust.org.uk- I can guarantee you won't fail to be moved by the stories you'll find there.

And while I'm in selling mode, why not also buy my friend Taryn's book: A November to Remember, the story of her courageous fight against bowel cancer. A percentage of profits from that book will be going to Lynn's Bowel Cancer Campaign. To find out more, visit: http://www.anovembertoremember.co.uk

And if you're interested... I will be running Race for Life with my daughter and several friends on July 2 2006. I haven't promised to raise much money (I did ask an awful lot of all my friends last year, so don't like to badger), but the race is in aid of cancer research. So if you did feel generous enough to sponsor me, you can do so by going to:
http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/marathonmumandfriends
But please don't feel obliged!

The £5.99 offer only applies to books ordered directly through my website, or via my email address. Unfortunately it cannot apply to books sold via Amazon or your local bookshop.

SO YOU'RE NOT A RUNNER? NEVER MIND...

We won't bite. So c'me on, pull up a stool, grab a drink, lean on the

bar and chew the fat, about well - anything.

So whether it's the World Cup or Big Brother that tickles your fancy, or The Da Vinci Code or whether you should enter the next series of The Apprentice (OTOH, maybe it would be nice to have a DVC-free zone!), feel free to chat about it here. And who knows you might come across some of those strange running types who'll inspire you to greater things...

HOW TO SELL A BOOK YOU DON'T ACTUALLY HAVE YET...

OR DIARY OF A NIGHTMARE...

Feb/March 2005
I am in the middle of marathon training. It's cold and wet, and to keep my spirits up I post merry little accounts of my doings to my very good writing friends on one of my e-groups. Some of the accounts seem to get the thumbs up, particularly one I write (in what I hope is an amusing vein) about what you do when you're out running and need the loo...

It occurs to me (ever one to spot a commercial opportunity) that maybe I should write up some of these doings and put them in a book. The trouble is most of them are posted online, I haven't got time to save them all, and I have a marathon to run... The idea goes on hold...

May 2005
The marathon's over, and it feels like there's a big hole in my life. The euphoria of crossing the line has diminished, I still ache everywhere, and running has kind of lost its appeal. But having a good response from people I've emailed my account of my marathon day too, I decide that this book thing might be a goer. Added to which over the last couple of years, I have been watching in envy and awe, several people with no previous publishing knowledge self-publishing their books and making a success of it. Hell, I've worked in publishing for seventeen years, if they can do it, surely, so can I?

June 2005
By dint of trawling through emails I've sent in the last year (a laborious process, and I'm only up to August) I've cobbled together enough background to start the book. I'm going to call it Running on Empty, because I was most of the time. My idea is to write a light-hearted account of my experiences, to try and inspire other wannabes. As a serial non-runner before all this nonsense started, I genuinely feel if I can run a marathon, anyone can...

I also want to donate a percentage of any profits to The Children's Trust. They are such a wonderful charity and their support for my efforts has been top notch.

July 2005
I've written a synopsis and three sample chapters. My agent doesn't normally deal with this kind of material so she suggests a few small independent publishers to send it to. I do and get nowhere. The summer holidays are coming up, my work time is limited, perhaps it's no good? I put the idea on hold...

A rather fatal mistake...

October-December 2005
My friend Taryn has written a book about her battle with bowel cancer, entitled A November to Remember. I've been an editor long enough to know when I've hit gold dust. So I offer to help self publish through a company I've heard of, who use Print on Demand technology to produce books. It's an incredibly cheap and effective way of getting something out there.

Taryn's book takes over for a while, but seeing how easy it is to produce a book POD has given me the confidence to have a go at the marathon book again. My agent meanwhile has got another publisher to send it to, so I promise to revise the sample chapters in the New Year. My aim would be to get a book out for next year's marathon. And like Mr Incredible, I still have time ... just.


January 2006
I've nearly finished editing Taryn's book, and in a lull, I go haring off on my marathon account. Thanks to my computer crashing and dying in the autumn I have lost ALL my emails from the previous year, and AOL have no way of getting them back. They've vanished - pouf! - into the ether. Bugger. I spend about a week trawling through the home page of my egroups and manage to get everything back eventually. Phew! Now I have something to work on.

Having very little time, I send my agent the sample chapters, but my aim is to finish the whole thing and get to work on finishing the damned thing. Interspersed with all of this of course is my normal work, plus the usual mayhem of looking after the kids, and dealing with afterschool clubs. I so long for days when I can work 9-5, but I expect I'll miss all this when I get there...


February 2006
I manage to finish the marathon book, and send it to my agent, who really likes it. She sends it to a publisher, but in a way I wish that I could go hell for leather with the self publishing malarkey. Taryn and I have nearly finished her book. Although we keep finding errors and things are always changing, so there are days when I think we'll never put it to bed...


March 2006
Marathon book on hold as agent hasn't heard from publisher. I am getting twitchy. London Marathon coming up very soon, and if the publisher take it on there is no way that it will be out in time. If they don't take it on, there is no way I can get it out in time... It's a lose lose situation.

On a more heartening note, I send the book to my brother in South Africa and he writes me a cheery email to say how much he enjoyed it. I have shown bits to various friends - lots of them are mentioned in it, and I don't want to offend anyone - and so far the responses have been positive.

After a few hiccups, Taryn finally has a book. It's taken just under six months to get from ms to final copies - which given that we have nine kids between us, isn't bad going. And now I know I can do it for the marathon book, if need be.

My agent emails to say the publishers aren't interested. Damn and double damn. With less then a month to the marathon, I have no chance of getting this thing out in time. Still, I think, I'll give it a go and see what happens...

So I start to turn my manuscript into a book. I know I should show Dave - he's in it, and he also has a very clear critical eye - but showing your written work to your spouse is the literary equivalent of having driving lessons with them. It is such a no no...

April 2006
Week One
It is the Easter holidays, and Dave has a week off. One day I am cooking tea and I hear John Inverdale on Radio 2's Drivetime talking about the London Marathon and what tunes people run to. In my last few weeks of training it was Show me the Way to Amarillo (as the kids loved it) and Black Horse on a Cherry Tree. I fire off an email about my book, mention my blog, and when it doesn't get read out think nothing more of it.

The next day we go to Legoland with some friends. We don't get back till gone seven, but when we do it is to gobsmacking news. There are two messages on the answerphone. John Inverdale has read out my email, mentioned my book and my blog! Oo-er missus. The only problem is, I don't actually have a book....

I send John another email to say that I haven't yet got books, but am working on it. I post a message on my blog to let people know the situation. And then I email Taryn. She has done a website for A November to Remember. How did she do it? Taryn gives me the details and I set about buying a domain and sorting out a website. Meanwhile John Inverdale generously gives me another plug - which is fabulous. But oh, the frustration of having this much free publicity and nothing to sell!

On Good Friday, Dave spends the morning watching King Kong with kids, while I construct a website. Luckily it isn't too hard. I post the details on my blog, hastily cobble together a top tunes to run to competition and sit back. I've had a couple of messages on my blog and twenty-two extra hits, so somebody is out there...

Late on Friday evening I get a message from someone who kindly wants to post my details on his runner's group website, The Wesham Road Runners. Woo! The power of the internet. This makes me think about other runner's forums. So I scour the net, posting messages wherever I can, mentioning the book, my website, my competition...

The response is a slow steady trickle of people emailing me with their top tunes to run to. My favourite is Highway to Hell.

WeekTwo
The kids are back at school, all except Stephanie - her nursery have inconveniently taken a month's holiday. Not only that, when she does go back it's mid week, followed by a bank holiday, so it's going to be the second week in May before I get some serious work in.

Still, by dint of ignoring all my other work I am ploughing through the proofs. I've got my designer mate working on a cover, so things are progressing. I take some extracts from the book and the week before the marathon email anyone and everyone I can think of. The person I'm really after is Lorraine Kelly - she ran the marathon last year and was refreshingly honest about how hard it was. For a plodder like me, it was dispiriting to read about celeb after celeb who was posting superfast times.

But it's hard being a nobody, running a company that no one has heard of, as really, why would anyone look at you? On the other hand, I've been in this business long enough to know that word of mouth is what sells unknown books. So if I can just get it going by increasing chatter on the running forums I've been on (I am much helped here by a group called Runner's Forum who kindly let me publish extracts from the book), maybe I can generate some hype all on my own. The internet is without a doubt a fantastic tool for a fledgling publisher - go to the right places and information can be spread, I hope like wildfire...

Week Three
The marathon comes and goes - I watch it feeling immensely jealous I'm not there, but enjoying showing the children where I ran last year. The following week I pound the forums again, email all the running mags, the London Marathon team... You name it, I do it. I'm thrilled to get a response from Sir Steve Redgrave's office. He is such a hero. Wish I had been running it this year, as he'd have crossed the line just after me...

Week Four
Meanwhile Dave has finally got round to reading the book. I know this is a mistake when I come back to find him having only got to page 50 and shaking his head despairingly. I know he's trying to help, but he does this to me when we're playing Scrabble. As he is a scientist and I am an artist, it gives him great pleasure to get one over me in the words department. I try to point out to him that every book has typos in, that's why you need another eye...

The resulting row means he doesn't look at it again for another week - as I am waiting to hear from The Children's Trust I can't do anything till then anyway. So he gets a week's grace...

May 2006

Week One
I am beginning to get twitchy again. Rob has produced a wonderful cover, but I can't do anything with it till the insides are sorted. Eventually, after much headshaking (Dave), much lipbiting (me - ok I'll admit I'm an oversensitive little flower), he gives it the go-ahead and I have two days to check and correct and check again... Then it's off to the print shop to get a pdf file, go the printer's website and upload my file. Rob has sent me a disk with the cover on, but I don't have Quark so can't open it. So I send it to the company I am using, who send it on to their parent company in the States. This turns out to be a big big mistake...

I decide I should have a book launch, and ring Ottaker's up. They are very supportive of local authors, so one Saturday I pop in with the youngest two offspring (who behave appallingly) and organise a launch for 8 June. I am confident we'll have books by then.

Week Two
With a sigh of relief, I turn my attention away from the marathon back to the romantic novel I have been writing for the past two years. It's set around some allotments, and I am dying to write a scene where the hero and heroine part company in what I hope will be an emotionally turbulent scene. One of them is going to throw the engagement ring the hero had been planning to give her into an allotment from whence it will emerge sitting on a leaf in Spring, ready for them to find for the denoument scene when they make up (lest you think that too fanciful, Dave lost his wedding ring just after we were married in a similar way). The scene in the best tradition of nineteenth century fiction will take place in the pouring rain (the weather rather unsubtly reflecting the emotion of the characters. Well if George Eliot can do it, why can't I?)

May is a busy month for us with two birthdays, and a Holy Communion to organise, so I take my eye off the ball for a bit, till I spot a digital print shop on the way back from church. Great, I'll pop in there and sort out invites and posters for the launch.

By the middle of the month I am getting slightly anxious that nothing much seems to be happening. My account still says I am waiting for materials. I am? What happened to the disk I sent? I start chasing and get nowhere. Eventually on the 17th I discover that the disk has disappeared. After much toing and froing I manage to get Rob to upload the cover onto the website. I wish I'd done that in the first place. If there is a problem with the proof, as there no doubt will be, I am running out of time to correct it and get it back so the books will be ready for printing. And we're away for half term, the week before the launch party...

My contact at the printers assures me all will be well, so I am shutting my eyes, taking a deep breath and hoping for the best.

Week Three
An RNA contact Kate Allan has recently invited me to her online launch party. I couldn't make it, but it gets me thinking. In order to reach all those runners worldwide, an online launch party might be just the ticket. So I email Kate and ask if she minds me pinching her idea, and how she did it. She is very helpful, so I set up a blog, and spend a happy evening downloading pictures, and trying to work out what should go on the damned thing, while Dave sits downstairs cursing at Arsenal's misfortune.

The blog now set up, all I need is a book, a means of taking money off people, and then we're away... I think...

Week Four
After all the hiccups, a proof is finally on it's way to me. I have been handing out invites like billy-oh. Am absolutely amazed at how supportive people are. Also how what to me is a rather mundane working environment seems much more glamorous to other people. Will you sign my book they keep saying. Of course, that's the point, but er, I am really a nobody! Hopefully I can get lots of people into Ottaker's, who have also been immensely supportive.

I also send out invites to people I don't see regularly, try to drum up some press interest, set up a paypal account and a PO box address, so I can handle orders myself. Is there anything else I should be doing? Probably - this is where I miss working in a company, it would be nice to have someone to bounce ideas off.

On the other hand, for the first time since I've been freelance, I've been in total control of a project from start to finish.

I'm having a ball...

23 May
Stop press! A month to the day since the London Marathon, and I have a copy of my book. Wooo! The wonders of digital print. There are the inevitable (minor) corrections - I hope I've got them all - and I make them, rush down to the print shop before the school run, and get back in time to upload them onto the website. Then I dash off to school to proudly show off my baby, before taking the kids to their swimming lessons. While I'm there I hand out four more invitations - one to a mum from Steph's nursery who's thinking of running the marathon next year...

So by Friday I should be able to press the go button, which is just a bit exciting.

My only problem now is finding someone kind enough to accept 200 books for me, whilst I'm away...

June 2006

If only life were that simple.

We duly trot off to Germany on holiday with two grannies and four children, plus my laptop. I cunningly buy a set of adaptors, some of which are supposed to work out there, but of course, they don't... Three days into our holiday I am still struggling with it. I look for internet cafes in vain - the town we are staying with being somewhat of a backwater, and as we are here to visit my mil's aged rellies time being somewhat short. I am slightly amused the day we go to the place where my mil grew up, a beautiful mediaeval town en route to Berlin, and ask at the cafe we are in if there is an internet cafe there. We are the only cafe in Gardelegen I am assured firmly. Hmm. I thought the Wall came down fifteen years ago... but evidently the world wide web hasn't quite got here yet.

In the end in desperation I ring up the company (in hindsight I should have done that on Monday) to discover that NOTHING has happened. As we are leaving Gardelegen and the children are all causing mayhem in the car I get a phone call to say that there is a problem with my revised proof. Cue F***** F*** Hugh Grant moment - why didn't they tell me last week????? Could you upload it again? they ask. Er, no I'm in Germany. We'll have to charge you to change it. Just DO IT!!! I am by now screaming down the phone, AND send me my books!!!

Friday morning while in an old people's nursing home visiting mil's sister, I ring to check progress and am told that a proof will be generated by the end of the day. Please ring me back and confirm I say(given that my mobile is eating pounds faster then I can breathe) - needless to say no phone call came...

We got back on the Saturday and I check online - my proof has been generated but my order is pending. I can feel the blood pressure rising. Should I cancel the launch party? I have no idea what to do. It's about eight years since I've had this kind of pressure with a deadline. Whose idea was it to self publish again?

By Sunday I have calmed down a bit. Getting stressed isn't going to change anything. I have given out so many invites to the party I have no idea who's coming. I can't cancel now. Maybe I should hold a bookless launch party and just take orders - it would be a novel approach... And as my sister points out, rather postmodern.

Three days to go...
On Monday I ring up and am promised it will be sorted...

I have also cocked up on the PO Box front. You wouldn't believe how long it takes - I sent all the stuff off only to get it returned as I had misread the bit on the form that says you need to submit bills that are less then three months old to prove your address.

Less then three days to go and I don't have books, or any means of taking orders.

I think I may be grey by the end of the week...

Two days to go...

Phew! I think... I've spoken to the printers and they have promised books will be despatche dto me tomorrow night. I am shutting my eyes and holding my breath. When I wake up it will be Thursday morning and I will have my books.

Am now trying to sort out temporary PO box with Mail Box Etc. It is three times the price of the PO version, but I should get it sorted today instead of sometime never.

Nearly forgot that had to take littlies to a hospital appointment, so day now severely curtailed. Have emailed all the running forums I am on to remind them of the launch party. Checked my blog and I have had an extra 200 hits in the last week. Wow. And 32 hits at the party blog, even though launch party not open yet.

Trying to work out a mailing list of people I think should receive a copy.

Books also need to go out the lovely people at Freckleton who are running a half marathon on June 18 and have been very supportive. And I need to sort out order forms to go up there too.

Am sure there's loads I've forgotten, but the good news is that my book is finally up at Amazon. Wooohoo!!! Now that's a great feeling. From ms to finished book in around seven weeks. Infinitely more stressful then running the marathon, but hurrah for digital print!

One day to go...

The morning passes in a flurry of activity chasing up the local press, who seem interested but haven't come up with anything concrete yet. Dave and I are shattered as for the previous two nights the local authorities have seen fit to dig up our road, so we have been kept awake till two by lorries reversing up and down the road. They seem to have the knack of putting on the reversing beeps just as you drift off to sleep...

I wait till late morning to chase the books and am told the good news they will be leaving at midday... To my amazement and relief they actually arrive at 1.30. Thank the lord. Now I can sit back and relax.

That is, until I realise that I still have a speech to write, need to buy the drinks and nibblesI've forgotten that it's mil's birthday, and I'm taking her out for lunch... Hmm, once again I'm going to be running on empty...

DISCUSSION TOPIC: HOW NOT TO RUN A MARATHON

by Virginia Moffatt

This contribution by my inspiring twin sister, is a real warts and all account of what can go wrong... and she still finished!

This is a cautionary tale for anyone out there might be in the position I was, slightly unfit, getting back into running, and thinking of next year. I think hubris is the appropriate term to describe what happened next…

Oh dearie me, it all felt so easy when I rang Julia up two years ago. Having watched the rain soaked Marathon of 2004,I had started running again after a ten year lull and was having a blast, rediscovering the joys of pushing myself and simply flying through the roads.

So I really really did think I could pick up where my twenty-something self left off. After all when I started running at twenty, I found that from a slow coach amateur puffing her way through a mile to a speedy eight minute miler covering six miles seemed to happen with little effort, hardly any thought and nary a decent pair of trainers. So going for the Marathon in our fortieth year, and fulfilling a dream I had had since my twenties seemed just the ticket.

But how times change. Alas the nearly forty body isn’t so pliable as the twenty year version. Add to this ten years of sloth, three babies in four years having made me two and half stone heavier, created jelly of my stomach muscles and given me a permanent back ache that I hardly ever noticed, and I was bound to get into trouble.

The first bit was simple – building up my mileage to three to four miles wasn’t hard, and running on a beautiful country road with the sheep and the birds, the odd snake and stunning sunsets was exhiliarating. That summer I entered two 5K races and was pleased to see my time improve on the second, even though it was a scorching twenty-eight degrees. So the autumn programme I blithely sent to Julia seemed eminently doable. All it would take, I arrogantly thought, was to follow the programme and the miles would pile up, we would speed up and by Christmas be in a great place to start training proper.

Yeah right. It was when things went above five miles that it all started going pear shaped. The first inkling was around half term when I was coming back from a nice enjoyable run and started noticing a niggling ache down my right leg. I iced it, and rested for a few days, and there it was back again when I did my six miles. So I trotted off to a non-running GP (never again) who misdiagnosed a pulled muscle. Two weeks off, no problem, at least it wasn’t my training proper.

Oh but when I went back it was worse than ever, and I was getting shooting pains all the way down. It seemed to me like sciatica. I had had a bit in my last pregnancy and not thought about it since, so off to a physio who agreed with me. Four weeks of expensive physiotherapy and no running later, I started back again. By this time it was nearly Christmas I had lost weeks of valuable time and was starting back on one to two miles, when I’d hoped to be at ten.

This was the first point when I thought about pulling out. I had not got a place in the main ballot and was waiting to see if Mencap would give me one. Perhaps my early injury was a sign that 2005 was not the year for me? But, but, but… I really wanted to do it the year we were forty, the twenty-fifth anniversary and fulfil my long-held dream. Waiting another year seemed too far away, particularly since Julia had now got a place and was breezing along with nine and ten mile runs.

So I carried on and probably pretty stupidly got back up to five/six miles way too quickly. The week after we went on a January 1st hellish hill run, I tried to go for a gentle three miler. I lasted a mile before my back gave out and I noticed a twinge in my right knee. By this time I had just accepted a place with Mencap, but I had not yet advertised the fact and here again was another chance to stop. My buts were still stronger than my common sense, however, so I went back to a different GP as I could not afford any more private physiotherapy. He recommended some NHS physio and ibuprofen before runs to reduce the inflammation. So I was back on.

All went swimmingly for another three weeks or so, my mileage built up slowly with the programme. I attended the back clinic and religiously followed the exercises. Two weeks running I had spectacularly good ten mile runs, the second faster than the first. And although I had lots of niggles I thought I could get away with ignoring them. But the following week disaster struck.

One Tuesday morning I got up to run my twelve mile run. It was cold, it was grey, and it started snowing halfway round. The wind was bitter, and my legs hurt from the off. I ignored them. I could also feel a cold coming on. I ignored it. Three or four miles from home I was aware my back and right thigh were in a lot of pain. I ignored it. Two miles to go, it was a lot worse. Nearly home I thought through gritted teeth. One and a half miles from home it happened, shooting pains from my hip to my knee sent my muscles into an exruciating spasm. Run? I could barely walk. I hobbled miserably home in freezing cold winds – now what?

All I could do was rest it for a couple of days, made a bit easier by a heavy cold that laid me low anyway. The pain didn’t go away so off I trotted to the GP again, this time asking for one who could run. He tested my knees and diagnosed iliotibial band syndrome. A common problem for runners particularly those who were running longer distances in short times. More rest, more exercises and a programme that was rapidly reducing by the minute. Being a runner he understood my mad obsession and advised I could do it but would have to be careful. So after a real dark night of the soul, I decided to press ahead.

And here I have to confess that despite all my cheeriness to Julia, I was harbouring a huge case of sour gripes. Every time we spoke she seemed to have run further and faster, had no major problems and be having much more fun than me. It didn’t seem fair, this after all had been my dream for years – why couldn’t it be so simple for me? (As for all those dream team stories in Runner’s World – well disheartening ain’t the word). But I am nothing if not determined (or perhaps just an obstinate bugger) and the thought of not being there still outweighed the idea of giving up.

So I went on, for another eight weeks of abandoned runs, several heavy colds interrupting training, slowing speeds, and had to adopt a walk/run strategy just to get the miles in. Every week brought another chance to sit it out, and every week increased my cussedness. I spent half my time at the doctor’s and half swigging echinacea, chomping vitamin C, iron tablets, ibuprofen and glucosamine.

And so to the final fortnight. Two weeks before the big day I ran a brilliant ten miler, about fifteen minute slower than the previous one, but never mind. A week before I ran a great six miler, relatively fast for my times. I was upbeat for the first time in weeks. Whatever the pain, whatever the speed (and I had abandoned realistic hope of under five hours, although a girl can still dream) I was going to run all the way round.

Then on the Friday, I woke up with a heavy head cold. I couldn’t believe it. The Marathon Team give you lots of dire warnings about making sure you are fit and here I was after all this effort and I felt lousy. But at this late stage I just couldn’t bear to pull out. Next year seemed a lifetime away and I couldn’t face going back to all my sponsors and asking them to put it on hold for a year. A friend from the school playground recommended sudafed, and sure enough I took two on Friday, woke up on Saturday and felt a lot better. So I took another on Saturday night and one on Sunday and hoped this would do the trick.

And so to the start, and after the excitement of losing Julia, we were off. With all my training lapses, I found the eleven minute pace a bit fast for me, and so I thought initially my feeling peculiar was down to that. The miles clocked on, Julia was upbeat and excited, enjoying us pacing ourselves so well. I felt worse and worse, sick and dizzy and overwhelmed by the crowds, the noise and the heat. South London is where I lived and worked for many years, and I had been looking forward to running through the familiar streets. But it was a total nightmare.

Eventually at five miles, when a lucozade drink had no immediate effect I told Julia to go on hoping that slowing down would help. By this time I was feeling hot and cold and struggling to move one step in front of another. The Cutty Sark was a complete let down, all I could think was how am I going to get another nineteen miles. Just before eight miles I stopped for a toilet break and a think. Despite the twenty-four degrees my skin was covered in goose pimples and I was shivering and nauseous. This was the lowest of all my low points. After everything I had been through, I realised something was badly wrong, and I seriously might have to stop. However much I wanted to run the Marathon, I did not want to die in the attempt, and I either had to pull out now or do something drastic.

I took a deep breath and had a good think. Eventually I decided that my bad feelings might be to do with the fact that I was wearing two tight knee bandages. I had used one for long runs in training and it had got me round, but in the last couple of weeks had gone to two because both knees were hurting. Perhaps the combination of heat, my head cold, a little too much water at the start, and the effect on my circulation had had a bad effect on my body. I knew that taking the bandages off meant inevitably my knees would hurt, and it was unlikely that I would get away without walking. But it was my only chance of getting to the finish. So I sat by the side of the road, took the bandages off and left them behind.

From that moment on I felt a whole lot better, and never thought of giving up again. I knew that all I could do now was get round, so my finishing time and even running all the way round were just not important anymore. By the time I got to Tower Bridge my knees were hurting, but the dizziness was gone, and I could keep moving. So from that point onwards I ran some walked some. As a result, I staggered round the course, my knee at one point swelling like a balloon, but had a great time at the back of the pack (highly recommend it if you ever get in the same situation) and finally made it across the line four hours after Paula Radcliffe (yes that’s right a staggering 6 hrs 15).

So yes, you can run a Marathon despite all this, you can complete it and have a great day. But it comes at a price. If you want a slightly easier journey (and no journey to the Marathon is easy) give yourself a bit more time, but if you have some mad personal reason to go for it next year, well at least you can be prepared for the worst.

A year later I am still running, just about. I have a bad back still and have taken a long break and had some expensive chiropractic treatment. But I am slowly getting back in and am going for the Oxford Town and Gown 10K in a couple of weeks. Given where my back and fitness levels are at, I fully expect to plod along at the back of the pack, but someone has to be behind you super-fitties. One day I expect I will sort out my physical problems, and improve my speed. I still believe ten minute miles are achievable, though I doubt I could ever get back to eight minute ones (if I ever really did – maybe my memory is a bit faulty) But you know what? Running by the River Thames last Saturday on a beautiful Spring evening, still is the best high I know, and that elusive four and a half hour marathon still beckons. At forty-five perhaps? Watch this space…….

I'm pleased to announce that Ginia did that Town and Gown in 66mins - way to go girl!!!

DISCUSSION TOPIC: FIT FOR LIFE?

Two years ago, I couldn’t run a mile. Apart from one 10k I was once conned into doing for charity, I had never run a race in my life. So when my twin sister suggested we ran the London Marathon together in our 40th year, I thought she was completely barking. Why on earth should I, a serial non-runner, even dream of doing anything so daft?

And yet … and yet … somehow the idea stayed and lodged deep within my psyche. I had already decided I wanted to raise money for a wonderful charity I know called Tadworth Court Children’s Trust, which looks after children with very severe needs, and the marathon was an obvious way to do it.

Which is how I found myself two summers ago pounding up and down Epsom Downs after dropping the kids off at school. To my utter amazement, I found that once I had established that I could run a mile (actually not too hard, as it turned out, because I walk a lot and that has kept me fairly fit), it wasn’t too difficult to then push the distances, and before long I found I was regularly running three to four miles. And not only that, I was actually enjoying it.

I’ve written an account of the ups and downs of my marathon training, called Running on Empty: Diary of a Marathon Mum, which I hope will inspire other no hopers like me. Take it from me, if I can run a marathon, anyone can.

While I was writing the book, I started to think about why it was that I was so anti-running before, and I realised that I actually had very negative feelings about sport in general. It wasn’t just that I didn’t regard myself as a runner, I actually felt that I had no right to be there. I felt a fraud throughout most of my training, and still do to an extent. Sure, I’ve run a marathon, but sporty? That’s just not me.

I realized that my feelings had their roots in my experiences of PE at school, which weren’t exactly positive. Our PE teacher tended to favour the sporty kids, and the rest of us could more or less lump it. I was marginally better off then my twin sister, Ginia, in that I could at least play tennis, but the pair of us were pretty much written off as “duffers” which was the appalling phrase she used to refer to us also-rans.

When I think about it, my negative feelings about sport generally went even further back, to my primary school days when Ginia and I found ourselves time after time in the ignominious position of being picked last in the rounders team. We soon learnt that sport wasn’t for us and we had no place there.

I have four children, all girls, and they too are learning that sport isn’t for them. This is mainly because of the disastrous political correctness that has taken hold in schools so the dread word “competition” has come to be seen almost as a dirty word.

Which is why I think it is so important that everyone who is a parent (and women particularly, as generally we still have the greatest daily influence on our offspring) makes it their priority to get their kids out exercising. Sport shouldn’t just be for the sporty, it should be for everyone, however much of duffers we are.

Because, another thing I realised when I was writing my book, was this. Although organized sport in school pretty much passed me by, sport I enjoyed did not. Thanks mainly to my mother who taught me to play tennis (and a very sporty brother who thrashed me at it regularly) made me walk everywhere and packed me off swimming every Saturday, I was pretty active in my teens.

During my early twenties, a couple of sudden bursts of getting overweight were enough to send me haring to aerobics classes, and I kept that up, along with my swimming till the children came along.

Once I started having babies, I lost sight of doing “proper” exercise as I thought for a number of years. But in fact, because I walk everywhere, the years I spent pushing a buggy around weren’t wasted. When I finally made that momentous decision to go for that run, I actually accomplished it with relative ease, as my base levels of fitness were probably better then they’ve been for my entire adult life.

And I want to keep it that way. Which is why I am still running (and hope to enter the marathon again), have got back into tennis, and am swimming and going to the gym as much as possible. My next goal after another marathon is to have a go at the triathlon – I could never have even envisaged that a few years ago.

But it’s not only for myself that I want to get fit, but for my children. I want them to learn from me that sport isn’t something they should be barred from, but something they deserve to have as part of their everyday life. I am delighted that three of the four want to learn tennis – at last I’ll have someone to play with! – they all swim, the one who doesn’t play tennis does gymnastics, and my doing the marathon has awakened an interest in running in all of them. The oldest is about to start a running club, and the next one down has already declared the ambition of running a marathon one day.

Given that London has been granted the 2012 Olympics, it seems to me there is a wonderful opportunity to be grasped here, to offer today’s children a better choice then we had. Sure, we need to train our athletes and get our elite teams together, but sport shouldn’t just be about the best, it should also be about those who try their best and achieve their own personal goals. As a mother, I can make sure my children are fit for life, and I really hope the initiatives will come to support me in that.

Sport isn’t the preserve of the elite, but the right of all of us. And if we are to avoid having a generation of obese and inactive children we have to do something about it today.