When I ran a marathon...

It was 1983. I was studying for my A-levels at Cricklade College in Andover. I was young, fit and healthy but I wasn't a runner.

During the summer holidays after the exams, the Performing Arts faculty were going in a month long tour of North East USA, taking music, drama and dance shows with us. We'd been fundraising for months and, in a moment of madness, I had agreed to run the Basingstoke Marathon to raise more sponsorship.

I did very little to prepare for the race. As I say, I was young and fit but, since leaving secondary school two years before, I wasn't doing any regular sporting activity. I did a couple of jogs around the fields near my parents' house but that was it.

The race began at Basingstoke Rugby Club where, as a little 'un, I'd been taught how to play rugby by Reg Hurley, Kiz Hurley's father.

I was nervous but excited. I can't remember how many competitors there were but this was the height of jogging mania. The London Marathon had begun a couple of years earlier and every medium-sized town now had its own marathon.

I started well and did the first five miles in about 45 minutes. Yes, that was way too fast.

I remember being cheered on by various mates along the route and each time it gave md a huge burst, but it got harder and harder and my legs got heavier and heavier. After a while I could have probably walked faster - but I kept going.

I was just about at the back of all the runners. I was in agony, and there were still miles to go. The ambulance sweeping up the strugglers drive along just behind me, but I kept going.

I arrived back at the rugby club to find virtually nobody there. Most people had gone home.

I decided to sprint to the finish. Summoning up my final burst of energy, I began a 385 yards sprint to the finish line...

I didn't finish last, but in that that final sprint I was overtaken by a man running with a dog (I'm not sure whether the dog had run the whole 26 miles) AND a blind man being lead around by someone else.

5 hours 23 minutes 49 seconds

Absolutely knackered.

My parents had gone home - they assumed I'd stopped somewhere out on the course.

I spent most of the evening in a hot bath soaking my aching legs. The following morning, a Monday, I had an exam. It took me 20 minutes to walk to the bus stop - normally it took 3 or 4 minutes.

The following Saturdat I played my friend Steve at tennis but, even a week later, I had to stand and stretch to reach balls as I was still in a lot of pain!

One day it would be great to run another marathon but I suspect that now my 1983 time would be just a dream!