And it didn't feel like water. It felt like little electrical shards of icy stabbing nettlish pain. I came out the other side leaping and gasping and shaking - and laughing. It was just a ridiculous thing to be doing, on Boxing Day, in the freezing cold, running five miles through mud and water with a hundred other runners each nursing a hangover and a slightly over-full belly.

Such fun I had, in fact, that I think we all came last. And I didn't care one bit. I was just happy to be alive.

My carefree attitude diminished somewhat when I realised that, in the rush to get out of the house, I had forgotten to pack a change of clothes, but you know. Boxing Day Lunch with the inlaws was rather more muddy than usual.

More pics here.

Before I move on I think it should be highlighted that not all of us were content to sit at the back of the pack and squeal girlishly at the sight of the mud. Caleb won his age group, completing the shorter 2.5 mile course in 21 minutes, or thereabouts. What can I say? The boy is irritatingly talented!

Christmas came (as if you need me to tell you that) and we spent the day at Mum and Dad's, just as every other year. And it was just like every other year, save one massively important difference. I took a Christmas card down to the Matthew in the morning, put it down next to him and had a bit of a chat (mostly one-sided, admittedly!). I like to put cards there to mark special days, it feels like a positive thing. The only real difficulty is returning another day to find it still there. Under normal circumstances you don't expect to have to take back a card like that. I'm aware of what I'm saying, and I don't know what I expect when leaving it - perhaps that he might magically transcend from on high and receive the card into the ether, possibly - but the removal of the gift afterwards always makes me feel a little sad. On balance, I think it is better to do it than not. I just need to find something meaningful to do with the thing once I've got it back.

Anyway, not long until I can kick 2009 into touch. Next race is the Wymondham 10k, on New Years Day.

This week I have mainly been trying to kill these little bastards.

Then, just as I dared to peep out over the mountain of freshly boiled sheets and consider going for a run; it starts to snow. And doesn't stop. Meaning David is stuck in work on massive shifts and it's too damn icy to pick up the milk, let alone take a ten miles trip around the villages. Gah. Before all of this, though, Maria and I took a trip to the Air Ambulance to have some photos taken for a paper. We got some pretty good pictures, and I utterly froze. It was freezing. And slippery. But it was lots of fun and, as always, we were very well looked after.

More photos from the visit here.
And I'm tired. Busy and tired. I've been sleeping really poorly. I lie there, for hours sometimes, just waiting. It takes so long to come. It's odd because I thought it a problem resolved. I mean, for the first three months after Matthew's death it was difficult; I'd find it almost impossible to get to sleep in the first place, and then I'd suffer a fresh heartbreak every time I woke. But it had been so much improved lately - I even had my first happy dream in eight months a few days ago - I don't know what's happened. Perhaps it's Christmas. Not long now. Limping to the finish.

Having said that I was well and truly upstaged, results-wise. Most crushingly, it was by my four year old son. David accompanied him round the course, pushing Ez in the pushchair, fully expecting him to run a hundred yards and get fed up. But no. William ran the entire 3k. He's four! That's practically two miles. And we didn't chase him with a stick to get him to do it, or anything like that. In fact quite the opposite - David kept asking him whether he wanted to stop. But no was the answer. He wanted to run. And run is the word - I've seen the video, he practically sprinted the whole way round. And the sweetest thing was how proud he was of himself as he crossed the finish line, and the crowd applauded. He was walking on air all afternoon and his medal has pride of place by his bed.

I have a runner for a son!

Lots more photos of the day here...

She was followed in soon after by Lee, who finished in 2hr 17 despite having injured his leg in training. Kevin and Wayne came in at just over 2.5 hrs. All really good times, particularly since it was their first time over that distance.

Mum finished in 2 hrs 17 - her fastest ever half, coming third in her age group! I am seriously impressed. At 62, she was only a minute or so off the Gold Standard for her running club, the Coltishall Jaguars. The standards are adjusted so make them equivalent and fair across gender and age. To make a comparison, to be a minute or so off my Gold Standard I'd need to run the distance in 1hr 40 ish. My fastest time so far has been 1.53. So my Mum is bloody brilliant. Fact.

I've picked up the running again now in preparation for marathon training proper, trying to get back to five useful sessions a week - and it's nice to be fresh after some time away. My hip is perfectly fine! Did a hills session last night near Mousehold with Mum and Lowri - and it was fantastic fun, although we did get a few funny looks huffing and puffing up and down Norwich's only hill, particularly since we were dressed in our indentikit fluorescent yellow vests and beanie hats.

In other news, Christmas appears to be approaching. It feels very strange.

See you all again soon. Next race is the 13th December, and the photos should be good - it's the Santa 5k!

On the plus side, the sporadic training has given time for my hip to recover. It feels almost normal now.

I'm not really looking forward to the race. Firstly it's a two lap route ("Oh yes, here we are again, only another 6.55 miles to go…") and secondly MP3 players are banned, meaning I'll be forced to make conversation with my sister all the way round (joke, Lowri, joke). I don't quite understand why they do this, from a legal point of view. Presumably it has something to do with them not wanting runners getting randomly squashed by cars enroute. But 90% people train half-deafened by music and have adapted mechanisms to avoid aforementioned squashing incidents. Of course, on a training run, should I get mown down by a tractor I wouldn't have the convenience of a race organiser to sue; but these events have public liability insurance to cover accidents of this nature. Plus in any case the vehicle driver would be the first port of call, legally. Most races allow MP3 players, and it allows the individual to take a certain amount of personal responsibility for their safety. No court is going to find a race organiser (a third party, remember) liable if I decide to leap out in front of a random lorry because of Aerosmith.

Ahem, anyway. Where was I?

Oh yes, thirdly, it's on the Norfolk Showground, meaning it will quickly turn into a mass mud wrestle. I am going to freeze my ass off.

Anyway, the plan is to take it gently, have a chat with Lowri, finish in one piece, have a cup of tea. Not even going to take my watch.

Have been thinking about Matt a lot this week. Whenever there's a lull in conversation, or in that small silence between songs on my ipod, or when I am sitting at lights in the car - he's there in my mind. Several years ago I bought him a beautiful glass paperweight for Christmas. Inside it had Pooh Bear floating up with his balloon, trailing paws covered in honey, rising away from the bees. He always loved Winnie The Pooh and although it was really expensive, much more than my budget, I knew I'd have to get it for him. On the day I was really excited about him opening it, and he was really sweet about it, but I thought perhaps he didn't like it as much as I thought he would. I chalked it up to experience and forgot about it (it was a paperweight after all, and he was 20!).

Anyway, the day after he died I let myself into his flat to find a few official things needed to get the process moving, you know. And there, on his desk above his computer monitor, was my paperweight. Pride of place, angled towards the room. I couldn't believe it. He really did like it, and he kept it where he could see it every day. It made me so happy that for a brief moment, I wasn't sad. I had read him totally wrong, he did like it, he treasured it, for nearly four years.

I was anxious not to touch anything, so I left it there. But I felt ready to go back a few days ago, and I asked Mum whether I could have it. It is sitting on my desk now, treasured again.

I felt a bit tired on the way to the race, but when we actually got there my mood picked up. Because of the occasion Lowri suggested we wear our special running tops, and so we did. It was extremely cold! Hat weather!

We made the rather brave decision to start the run without our jumpers but I was pleased I had when we hit the first hill after about two miles. I say first hill; in reality the race was just one seven mile long hill. But we had a really great run. For once I didn’t kill myself to get a decent time; Lowri and I made the decision to take it steadily, and we meandered tail-end-mid-pack all the way through, chatting and putting the world to rights.

We had lots of family support today, Mum, Dad, David and the kids. Once we were waved off at the start line they sat in the race centre eating cake! They were waiting for us at the finish, and when we crossed the line William shouted “Yay Mummy! You won!” which I thought was possibly the nicest thing ever. I gave him my medal and allowed myself a little Rocky-style victory dance, which I think looked particularly apt in my hat and gloves. Esmé obviously picked up on the general congratulatory mood because she clung onto my left thigh for about a minute. Didn’t do my hip much good. On the way home we stopped off for some lunch - fish and chips all round, with ice cream to finish it off. You can see more pictures from the day here

Tonight I am going to fire up the PS3, and finally unpack the new Uncharted game. I have spent three days looking at it through the cellophane. Both Matthew and I were eagerly awaiting its release, he was so excited about it, and now six months after his death it is here, sitting in my lounge. Tonight I am going to play it, and as I do so I will probably try to pretend that things are like they used to be, that tomorrow I will go to Mum’s, see him sitting in the kitchen, and attempt to coerce him into getting me past the bit that I’m stuck on.

Happy Birthday Matthew.

My left hip hurts (still!) so I have a physio referral. It has sort of taken the joy out of my training at the moment, although I'm still going four times a week. I was overjoyed to hear about the London Marathon, but now I'm marginally panicked... running 13ish miles wasn't so bad really, but had I got to the finish line and been told I had to run back the other way - well, I probably would have floored someone...

Totally not running related, but my copy of Uncharted 2: Among Thieves is here!!! It's not even out in the shops till tomorrow! And it's got free multiplayer online codes! But I've promised David I won't play ...it till he gets back on saturday. So I'm not. I'm not undoing the cellophane. I'm not turning the tv on. Or firing up the PS3. Definitely not. Jesus he's going to kill me if he sees this..... :D

(Before I go on, and forget - there are lots more pictures of the day here)

The Day before: Planes, Trains and Automobiles. And boats.

Over the course of the weekend many things became apparent. My top three: 1. Premier Inns are actually rather nice; 2. If your knee hurts stop running; 3. Make sure you know
where your boat is going before you get too comfortable. Everything started so well; one of the few plus points of having such a retentive personality is my compulsive organisation - I booked the train tickets months back and managed to get first class seats for about a tenner. We were travelling in style. Even negotiating the tube was okay, despite the walloping bags and the tens of thousands of stairs. But then it all went wrong. Someone mooted the idea of a quick reconnaissance mission to the 02 so we'd know what we were doing in the morning. Smart idea. How difficult could it be? We could see the dome from where we were staying. We'd be there and back within the hour. Getting there was okay, if you disregard the fact that the DLR was doing odd things and the jubilee line decided it wasn't running anymore. We actually ended up on a boat..... this boat...

On arrival the 02 was... large, white… and there seemed to be lots of toilets. All good. The problems started when we had to get home, and I'm sorry to say they started because of me. I spied a boat. It looked like our boat. It was white, with an engine, in the water - you know, a boat. The fact it was pointing the wrong way didn't really register. Anyway, after a severe telling off from the ticket collector and a quick scurry to dry land, we were about five miles out of our way.

Then we decided to walk a couple of miles to the nearest tube. To find it shut. No more DLR. So we caught a bus. To Canary Wharf. To find the DLR working again. After a short (read "hour long") diversion through the Docklands, we were back. Nearly five hours after setting out.

And just in time for bed.

The Race:
Making great strides in human-banana diplomacy.

Race morning came and we got to the 02 at about 8:15. It was a great atmosphere, and there were lots of people standing in line for the loos. What is it with the English and queues? There's just this irrestiable urge to join up and find out what's at the front. We spied about 200 people queueing for a single portaloo, despite the fact that 1) there were another 300 toilets just around the corner, and 2) some official looking bloke with a loud hailer was walking down the line telling them this. Repeatedly.

We got to our pen nice and early, to be at the front. Chris, our "pen bloke", wore a big beanie and was pleasant to look at for the hour or more we were stuck there. When the time arrived he was going to take us to the start. Unfortunately for Chris some joker started letting the crowd out from the back of the pen, and he quickly became a bit unpopular in his role as captor. Those at the back were now getting to the start line first. There was dissension in the ranks - the masses were becoming increasingly uneasy. The last thing I can remember him saying is "Ah. I'm losing you all aren't I…?" before his thousands of runners broke through the cordons and pushed him aside. Poor bloke.

The race itself was good. It was bit thin in crowd support in places but where people did congregate it was great. They were calling out our names and clapping and it was really encouraging. Many of the runners wrote their reason for running on the back of their shirts and it was so nice to see, although many were very sad. Lowri and I received the gracious attention of a couple of Tellytubbies at about mile four, and I lost count of the number of bananas I saw. One of the chattier bananas told me he was attempting to forge stronger human-banana ties, but I actually think he was running for Leukaemia Research. I believe they have broken the world record for the number of bananas (well, people dressed as bananas) running a race.

The course was really hilly! Particularly towards the end of mile seven; we climbed a small hill, rounded a corner - and found ourselves faced with something I would have preferred to attack with a grappling iron and rope. I swore. Lots. It eased up then until about mile eleven. Mile eleven was nasty for all of us, but particularly Bryonie. It was the mile that she learned the importance of lesson one in my list: stop if your knee hurts. She is the owner of the legs in the photo below:

It still hurts. She has a crutch…. But you know, she did it. We all did it. We did it for Matt, we did it for each other, and we did it for the Air Ambulance. And thanks to you, we have raised well over £1300. Thank you. So, what's next?

On Sunday Lowri and I ran the Wissey Half Marathon. Yes, I know, - we ran a half marathon as part of training to run… a half marathon. But there's method in it - the idea being that you hold something in reserve and use it to gauge how close you get to your ideal finish time.

I ran it on Cloud 9, having recently discovered the little sachets of heaven known as energy gels, although Lowri did point out I had a massive dried streak of the stuff all down my chin so… I must have looked an absolute tool for the last half of the race. For me it was a walk in the park for the first seven miles, was interesting but painful for the next four, and by the last mile I was willing for someone to come up pluck me up, Search and Rescue Style, in a helicopter. I was not amused to see the massive hill looming towards the end of mile 12! I finished though, well within my aim time, at 1hr 57 minutes, just under a nine minute mile average. I am very pleased with that!

Lowri finished in 2:14 and I think, like me, she was swearing her head off between miles seven and nine. The wind was ripping across the fields and we both found it difficult to make any forward progress. Still, we did it, we're here to tell the tale, and we're looking forward to London in just over two weeks time (eeek!)

Here we are, with a our winners beers!

Today we all went to Matthew's work to see his memorial bench being dedicated. As I mentioned below, all his friends on his shift clubbed together and bought the bench, to be used by all the smokers, just outside where they all work. I think Matthew would have loved it. We also had a good look round his work, and the East Anglian Air Ambulance as well. We had a really nice time, thank you all so much for organising it. I've put some of the photos we took on the gallery page.