Confessions of a MIDLIFE MARATHON RUNNER

Music is blaring out into the street. Tens of thousands have gathered to run the marathon, and all around me keen runners are swigging water, taking selfies and limbering up. I’ve spent much of the past few weeks gripped by fear at the thought of this moment – but right now I am so thrilled, I am literally jumping up and down on the spot. At 53, I am about to run my first marathon.

Never the sporty type, I spent the first four decades of my life shunning exercise of any kind. In truth, I was slightly ashamed about the quantity of ciggies I smoked and wines I tippled after work. It was easier to be scornful