When 15-year-old me walked the London Marathon.

It was for charity, let’s get that clear from the start. Not sure what possess anyone with the desire to do a marathon of any form. Good lord it was hard work. But crikey it is rewarding. Let me recall how it went for your viewing pleasure.

Now picture this, a slightly awkward 15-year-old ginger kid who at that time of his life loved nothing more than sitting back and playing video games for 8-hours a day. Don’t get it confused though, I loved my sport so I didn’t entirely shun daylight during the weekends. I was asked by my mum what I thought about walking a marathon for charity and not only did I agree, I thought it would be easy.

Oh boy was I wrong. There we were at the start line, well and truly in the middle of an enormous group of people, ready to walk the entire London marathon route. My older brother Luke, my mother and I stood there in a sense of anticipation, not really sure what we had got ourselves into. The event started at around 6pm so we were prepared to slug it out through the night and into the early hours of the morning. The weighted burden of carrying a bag full of sugar packed drinks and supplies didn’t phase me at this point, I was just excited to see the big city.

“A mile in after 20 minutes? This 26 mile lark is a breeze. I knew I didn’t have to train for this” I thought to myself as our trio surpassed the first marker. Fast forward to the 5 mile marker, the enthusiasm had taken a considerable dive. At this point I was already tired and hungry and wanted to go home but that’s not the point. 15-year-old me wasn't made of the sternest of stuff.

Now bare with me here, at around the 12/13 mile marker, this is were my father comes in. With all his friends. You’re probably wondering where they were at the start? Here’s the answer, they were in London for the NFL. So as you can expect were in the pub. As we stride down some random London street, out pop our own mobile cheer group to give us that boost. Pint in hand of course. They were intoxicated cheers, but cheers nevertheless.

The final stretch, something I thought I’d never see. The last mile along the Thames, past Battersea power station and onto ‘I can’t wait to go to sleep avenue’. From 6pm to 8am it really was a struggle. Looking back on it I think that when I first did it the heavy legs came from fatigue. But thinking about it now, it was actually the immense sense of pride I had. Doing something such as a marathon at the age of 15 with two of my favourite people all in the name of charity.

And I didn’t train. Note to self, must train next time.

If you want to find out more about this walk, click here.