For me, the very latest the marathon started was back in January this year. It was probably even before that because if I'm honest, it's been the itch I've needed to scratch since London in 2018.
It's the early starts in minus temperatures when the country was locked down and everything felt very strange and uncertain.
It's running to try and get my head around losing my lovely Grandad.
It's the four laps of Musters Road hill in the snow on a dark Tuesday night.
It's five times round Richmond and 10 up Lucknow.
It's the podcast and the playlists and all the DOdailys.
It's the secret solo half marathon in February - the first time I'd done that distance without walking. It's every solo half marathon I've pushed myself through since.
It's the laps, the reps, the sprints and the dashes. It's putting complete trust in Des when he says it's for the best!
It's running nine miles around the river the morning after a bottomless brunch for Barnfather's Birthday.
It's the mid-week big ones and the back-to-back testers.
It's ThunderRun, which I had swore I'd never do again.
It's celebrating the sub 30, then sub 29, 28, 27 and 26.
It's the new paths and segments, always looking for a photo opportunity.
It's the 20 mile walks when I've never liked walking.
It's the 10,000 steps a day for 223 days, only finishing last week to give my body a rest.
It's the many times I've tried and failed to give up fizzy pop and stick to water.
It's the aches, the pains, the blisters and the chafing.
It's being definitely not not dizzy as the miles built up on the Big Track each week.
It's 'that lake' in every weather.
It's every time I've said "no" when I'd like to have said "yes"...and every time I've said "yes" when I'd rather say "no".
Because really, the hard work is done, so I'll celebrate tomorrow by running a bloody marathon!
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