Loz Dace's marathon effort

University of Nottingham student Loz Dace ran the London Marathon for spinal cord injury charity Aspire after seeing a close friend paralysed from the neck down in a rugby accident. He tells us about the toughest run of his life.

Preparation is key. This is the first and most important statement you hear when you have chosen to run a marathon.

Preparation in training, preparation in what is needed mentally and physically in the lead up to the event and final preparations before the big day itself.

If you haven’t done enough for any of these, then when you reach the climax, the most gruelling point, you will fail, and you’ll only have yourself to blame.

So you can imagine, lying in bed the night before the marathon, I don’t feel like the most relaxed competitor there has ever been. Naturally I don’t consider preparation my forte.

I am infamous within my group of friends for always being late, generally because I leave stuff to the last minute and so I find myself pondering at which points have my preparation for this event not been enough.

Firstly I haven’t actually been out running for a fortnight because the injured knee that is throbbing under the duvet has been too weak to risk, surely that can’t be a good start.

Secondly, have I done enough training runs leading up to this, I almost collapsed after my only 20 miler so where the heck is the energy for the other 6.2 going to come from?

Have I drunk enough water today? Too little and your fluids go to low and you pass out, and possibly die; too much and your body’s organs overflow and you pass out, and possibly die.

So how on earth is an amateur that knows nothing about the human body supposed to know how much is best?! Have I had enough carbs? Have I had too much protein? Where are my trainers? Should I take my Ipod? The questions are endless. "Shut up, Loz", I say to myself. "You’re running a marathon tomorrow, get some sleep."

Easier said than done. As you can tell I’ve felt better.

We leave first thing in the morning to get to Greenwich for about 9am. Training partners, Adam and Stu, donning the same lycra short and vest combination that I am, names plastered proudly on the front in the hope that a supportive crowd will gee us on if the going gets tough.

"In the words of Rocky," Adam says to us inspirationally before leaving for his Blue start line, "it's not how hard you hit, its how hard you can get hit." And he’s right.

Deep down what terrifies us most is how hard we will get hit, how hard the dreaded 'wall' will knock us back, and most of all whether we’ll be able to get through it at all.

The race begins to loud applause from all of us at the Red start line and we’re off, crossing the start line in a carnival like atmosphere.

Immediately both sides of the road are lined with people, kids sticking out hands for high fives; cheers from groups of supporters and music blaring from live bands or pub speakers.

The atmosphere is truly fantastic, even a priest on the side of the road stands in robes throwing Holy water at passing runners! The sun is out in the sky and it feels like the middle of summer. What a fine day for a run, and we’re feeling great.

Do not speak to soon, this feeling of exaltation does not last forever, and as if the weather matches our mood, as we move into miles eight, nine and 10 the first twinges of pain come into play and the previously blue sky turns dark and menacing as if something is lurking ahead, something menacing. Waiting for us.

The knee twinge is now a painful ache, the right leg aches and so the left is having to do the extra work. I begin to question if it’ll have enough to get me round. 15 miles feeling like this, and I am not relishing the prospect.

The rain is now pelting down, but the spirits of the crowd are not dampened in the slightest. Still roars as we run past. "Go on, Loz", "Great work, Stu", if they can see your name then they’ll give you a shout, the support is absolutely amazing.

All the runners get such a boost from the crowd support, and you suddenly remember just how much fun you were actually having. Screw the fact you’d rather cut your leg off than run another 13 miles.

And then comes Tower Bridge, the famous land mark bursts out of nowhere lined with supporters packed in on both sides. You feel as if you have celebrity status bounding along the middle of the bridge, and morale goes through the roof.

Maybe the next 13 won’t be so tough after all, you think to yourself as you catch another Jelly Baby thrown generously to you by a fan (presumably the only time in your life you can take sweets off a stranger).

And indeed the next few weren't so bad, the knee softened up and miles 14-19 were more than bearable. If it stays like this, I thought to myself, I don’t see what the fuss is about.

Yes I'd rather be watching the United-Arsenal game with a pint in the pub but this isn't hell. Maybe I'll even send off my name for the ballot next year after all, maybe I'll make it an annual thing.

CRACK! There it is. A friend had told me before the day that the marathon is a race of two halves: the first 20 miles and the last 6. And boy were they right.

As if someone had picked me up shook me to pieces and thrown me in a blender, when I crossed the 20-mile mark I became a different person, a shadow of my former self. I'm not sure if it was quite the wall, but if it wasn't I'd dread to feel what it was really like.

The knee seized up and the quads burned, cramp set in on both Stu and I, and what had previously been confident strides towards our goal turned into timid shuffles hopelessly in the right direction.

It's a cliché I know, but every mile seemed to be a marathon of its own, and I convinced myself that every mile marker had been a double mile, only to have my hopes dashed as my tear-filled eyes focused on the true figure.

22 miles, and I questioned honestly for the first time how I would finish. I couldn't stop and walk because my knee would never start again, but surely my pathetic, wrecked excuse for a body didn't have enough to get me to the end.

But it was this stage the crowd truly came into their own. After the race we discussed how running those four miles in that state, hearing those people, could restore faith in the human race of even the biggest cynic.

The noise, the cheers, the calls, all of it just kept us plugging along. The atmosphere really was phenomenally special.

It’s not like a football match where there’s home and away fans desperately hoping their team gets the win, it arguably even more special, everyone wants everyone else to make it, to celebrate the achievement, and knowing that makes it very, very difficult to give up.

And finally there it was The Mall in all its glory. 600m to go the sign read, and it sums up just how we felt that this sign pushed us further to the edge of sanity as we struggled to comprehend how we’d make 600m, rather than hold our heads up high for a final victory straight.

Still eventually we made it, crossing the line arm in arm, fists raised, at that point ecstatic not yet for the sense of victory, but instead for it all to be finished.

They did not refer to this event in the paper on Friday as the ‘Human Killer’ for no reason. It simply was the most gruelling, yet rewarding experience imaginable, and to sit back and know you’ve conquered it is pretty special.

Michael Cox's post-jog blog

Children's author Michael Cox donned the cape, mask and outfit of his new creation Johnny Catbiscuit to run the London Marathon in aid of the Guide Dogs for the Blind Association. He tells us how he got on.

Just back from Londonland Marathon. Still feeling more or less OK, apart from having to walk downstairs backwards due to aching knees.

A great run in all, taking a mere - but truly magnificent and fun-filled - six hours.

Began in glorious sunshine with a slightly surreal, "Cripes, I’m doing the London Marathon! How ever did I get here?" feel.

Finished with an even more surreal, "Cripes, I've just done the London Marathon! How ever did I get here?" feel.

Very focused for the whole run. In fact, so focused that I failed to see and ran straight past my family and publishers who were waiting with a great heap of my Johnny Catbiscuit books for me to give away at mile 12.

However, they finally caught my attention by leaping into my path and screaming in my face, so books were duly handed to a couple of hundred delighted children. Mission One accomplished!

Highlight: Performing spectacular ‘super-swoops’ and ‘super-leaps’ to great cheers and whoops from hordes of onlookers, especially outside the inns and hostelries of Old London Town.

However, after mile 20, these leaps and swoops became markedly less ‘super’, ending up as a sort of apologetic wiggle and stagger.

Lowlight: Horizontal hail and sleet somewhere around mile 12 which soaked me to the skin and caused me to truly believe that my nipples had fallen off, presenting me with the question "Do I go back and look for them?" but quickly coming to the conclusion "Oh forget it! What’s a pair of nipples when you’re running for the Guide Dogs!"

Mission two accomplished!

Richard Whitehead: My marathon effort

Richard Whitehead from Colwick got plenty of support from the crowd as he embarked on his fourth marathon in six weeks. The 31-year-old – who runs with prosthetic limbs after being born without legs below the knee – has raised about £30,000 for Macmillan Cancer Support since 2006.

On the morning of the marathon I was ready to rock and roll. I raced a lot over the past month but London was a race that I wanted to enjoy and do a great time!

In the morning I was up at my normal 5am crossing all the Ts and dotting all the Is. I did a live interview with a national radio station and set out for the race.

I raced to get a taxi to the nearest tube station and the taxi driver wanted to know all about my running - so much so that I didnt pay for the ride! I got on the tube to Maze Hill sharing stories about past runs with fellow runners.

I arrived at Maze Hill with still a 15 minute walk to the red starting area to go.It was great talking to runners that had seen me at other events or runners that just wanted to know my story!

45 minutes before the start, I made my way to the starting pens (the gates where you start from) and time ticked down. At 9.45am we were off! I felt great before the race and at the start felt fresh and was running well within myself.

I Set myself targets in the race and wanted to finish around 3.30-3.45 which would be around my personal best time.

There were thousands of spectators on the course shouting my name and cheering me on and because of that you fell the need to run faster!I met fellow runners that had seen my articles in the Evening Post on the way around the London Marathon course.

With two miles to go and the legs needing to finish the heart takes over and that gets you to the end. With 800 metres to go I was handed the English flag and ran in to the finish in three hours 22 mins.

This was one of the best races I have ever run with support that was out of this world! London really embraced the runners on Sunday and im thankful for that.

For more details visit www.marathonchamp.com or www.justgiving.com/richardwhitehead08.

Paul Gorman: My marathon effort

Capital One senior security consultant Paul Gorman, 37, from West Bridgford (pictured far right in group) was running for cerebral palsy charity Scope.

The only way you could describe the day itself is amazing.

There is a fantastic camaraderie between the runners. It was pretty emotional at times - particularly at the end when you are fighting back the tears because the atmosphere is so charged.

There were a lot of people running with pictures of relatives who have passed away which makes you very humble.

I can't speak highly enough of the crowd. You hear people talking about the London Marathon crowd but you don't realise how great they are until you are actually there.

You get to a stage were you feel like you can't go any further but then you hear a band playing or hear someone shouting your name.

I managed to run constantly up to about 16 miles - from there I started to slow down and do a run/walk strategy to make sure I got round.

By 20 miles it was agony and the last six miles were heavy on the legs. When I got to 24 miles it really kicked in, but I knew that even if my legs gave in I would be able to do the last two miles.

When I got the Mall and saw the finishing line it didn't hurt so much any more. I saw a guy who I had spoken to on the starting line and I gave him a hug.

After the race I am aching from the balls of my feet to my calves and up to my shoulders, everything is stiff. I slept well but every time I turned over I felt some pain.

I was running for cerebral palsy charity Scope - one of the things that kept me going is not letting these people down. It was fantastic and perhaps the best part of the day was thinking about what I had done for those people.

My other half has asked me if I will do it again - it is a massive commitment but the day itself makes it worthwhile. At the moment I haven't got any plans to do it next year but if you ask me in a month I may have changed my mind.

Richard Fiddis: My marathon effort

Richard Fiddis from Experian is running the London Marathon for the 5th time and raising money for Nottingham Bereavement Trust - a small local charity where money raised by marathon runners makes a significant difference to their finances.

Back home safely after what was a tough but pleasing run in that I targeted four hours and came in at three hours 59 minutes and 33 seconds!

The day started well with a cloudless sky and it was nice and cool which is great for running.

I got off to a great pace and realised I was going far too fast after the first three miles - an easy temptation with so much adrenaline and the enthusiasm of the crowd.

So I deliberately slowed my self down and got chatting to a guy that lived locally and trained on much of the marathon route.

Two things I love about the London Marathon: the great crowds all along the route, particularly the kids who want to 'high five' you and give you sweets or drinks; and the other runners who come from all over the world and are happy to chat as they run.

Each has a great story behind why they are running. Then the clouds opened and for half an hour we were running in heavy rain - this was actually refreshing although running in sodden trainers in less than pleasant.

I was 8 minutes up on my target pace at the half way point as we crossed Tower Bridge. The celebrities including Gordon Ramsay get interviewed by the BBC on the bridge whilst mere mortals like me trudge on by.

After Canary Warf I was getting very tired and slowing significantly. The worst period is 19 - 24 miles, no 'wall' this year but I was now just four minutes down on my target pace.

Last stretch along the embankment towards Big Ben was tough and although I was slowing I really did not want to come in outside the four hours and as we turned down the mall in front of Buckingham Palace I really sprinted to make up as much time as possible. Just made it!

I got back home to see that I had two new donations from work colleagues which took my total to nearly £1000 for Nottingham Bereavement Trust which is great reward for the effort and the aching limbs.

Anyone who would like to sponsor me can find my sponsorship site on http://www.justgiving.com/richardfiddis.

Johnny Catbiscuit gets ready for the marathon

Michael Cox will don the cape, mask and outfit of his new creation Johnny Catbiscuit to run the London Marathon in aid of the Guide Dogs for the Blind Association. He tells us about his preparations.

One day 14 hours and 11 minutes to go to myattempt on the world marathon record (give or take the odd hour / month / year / decade).

I’m about to eat several tons of pasta slathered with bolognese sauce as that apparently fills your legs with energy and whatnot which makes you go loads faster (or fatter).

And on the subject of legs, I’ve just had a long talk with mine, explaining in no uncertain terms what’s expected of them on the day: best behaviour, how I won’t tolerate whinges (or twinges) ... that sort of thing.

Big question! What is to be my motivation as I run? Answer: raising money for the Guide Dogs Association. I must finish at all costs.

As I’m running dressed as Johnny Catbiscuit, the hero of my new superhero series, perhaps I’ll pretend that his number one enemy, the evil Dr Septic and his horde of Abominable Snotmen, are chasing me around the streets of Londonland.

Which reminds me! I have an extra challenge to meet. I’m going to be giving away signed copies of my Johnny Catbiscuit books as I run.

Mrs Catbiscuit and the rest of the Cox family are going to be at home looking out for me on the telly. I gave them my race number so they’d be able to spot me, then remembered I’m in my Johnny Catbiscuit superhero outfit so they shouldn’t have too much trouble anyway.

Re that outfit: have just learned the first rule of being a superhero! On passing through a door and closing it behind you, first make sure your super- cape isn’t trapped in said door, thereby avoiding risk of missing London Marathon due to self-strangulation!

Polly Davison gets ready for the marathon

Only two days to go until I’ll be standing with 35,000 or so other runners to begin the London Marathon.

I can’t quite believe it, less than five months ago I wasn’t even running regularly and when I did it was no further than 3km!

I can already feel the butterflies, so goodness knows what it’ll be like on Sunday. I felt such a sense of achievement when I ran 13 miles for the first time, 26 is just going to be out of this world.

When I was given the opportunity to run in aid of Tomorrow’s People (www.tomorrows-people.org.uk) through my company Select Appointments I didn’t really think what I was taking on.

I’d always wanted to be able to say I’d run a marathon, but hadn’t quite considered what that might involve.

I first knew I had the place back in October and I decided that the best option for me was to get a personal trainer. Someone I could see once a week, who would keep me on track and give me professional advice and encouragement.

So I enlisted Jake Attwood from Virgin Active, he’s been able to formulate a training regime that was simple and easy to follow; one long run, one short run and interval training every week with extra runs as and when.

It’s been a fantastic experience I’ve seen a massive improvement in my fitness and my style of running. The training has just been the half of it, although it has slightly taken over my life just ask my boyfriend!

I’ve also pledged to raise £2,000 for Tomorrow’s People; I’m nearly there with only a few £100s to go.

It’s mainly been through the generosity of family and friends, old and new! I haven’t been fundraising alone - the Nottingham Select Appointments office have supported me so much particularly with their own donations.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has donated, their generosity is really appreciated.

In these last few days I’m trying to take it easy, as per instruction, I’ve decided this is my favourite week of marathon training! Lots of stretching, sleeping and pasta, oh and a short run!

People keep asking how I feel and am I ready, I think I’m ready, you can always do a bit more, but I think it’s mind over matter now. I saw the best piece of advice in the newspaper at the weekend – it said whatever you do keep smiling, so that’s what I’m going to do and hope the legs keep going!

If you have a few spare pennies and would like to sponsor me my fundraising webpage is www.justgiving.com/pollydavison

Loz Dace Blog

Here I sit, two days before the Flora London Marathon - 48 hours before the day I’ve been building up to for the last six months.

Weeks of injury-free training are behind me, some intense, some excruciating, some simply humiliating (namely collapsing in tears on the drive just as the neighbouring family come out the house en mass!).

Sod’s Law though, at the eleventh hour I’ve pulled my knee ligament.

Not so badly that I can’t run, but bad enough so that the physio has booked me in for three mornings of treatment in a row and given me a shopping list as long as my arm of ointments, gels and sprays that I’ll need to apply before the run.

To be frank, the injury is a right pain in the neck, all the preparation and the hope of a good time in my first marathon and now a painful injury that puts even finishing in doubt.

Should I be surprised though? Most definitely not, this is merely just another twist on the rollercoaster journey of doing a marathon.

And at the end of the day it’s these that make the whole achievement the wonderful experience that it is, the challenge that it is. If you want to do something relaxing, take up golf!

I must be honest, when I first signed up for the marathon I didn’t know what I was getting myself in for. I knew it would be tough and I knew it would hurt, but what I hadn’t anticipated was the sheer commitment needed, and you need it by the boat load!

A couple of mates and I had a friend from school that severely hurt his spine in a terrible rugby injury last year, and so the choice of charity was easy.

ASPIRE specialise in spinal injuries and support people from the initial injury right through to personal independence.

From my first phone call with them I could tell they were a fantastic charity, the enthusiasm that they had for their cause and the welcome they gave us once we joined the team were brilliant.

Indeed when you’ve promised yourself to help that kind of group, that alone can carry you through any pain the 20th and 21st mile can give you.

We’ve been lucky too, justgiving.com websites are so easily accessible and people have been so generous to the cause that the fundraising has pretty much sorted itself, with a few texts and e-mails to help things along the way.

And so once we were signed up, there we were. A rainy October evening in Lenton, and three of us kitted out in old trainers, football shorts and t-shirts embarked on our first run, a cheeky three-miler to get the ball rolling.

It did not take long before we realised two things. Firstly, we were hugely unfit (one member threw up, another gave up), and secondly our gear was awful.

Next day, straight to the Running shop, new trainers, new vests and something called a pedometer, though still not very sure what it does now…but as they say, start as you mean to go on.

And that was the beginning, the distance slowly began to rise. Eight miles, 10 miles, 12 miles. Eventually we were getting into big numbers, I found out the unpleasant way that you cannot do 14 miles after a 21st Birthday party (note to self: do not drink night before marathon).

Eventually we reached the key 20 mile distance, this distance is the most you should do before the marathon itself. Apparently, so ‘they’ tell me, if you can do this then adrenaline on the big day carries you through the last 6.2 miles.

Well I tell you what, ‘they’ must have the adrenaline of an enraged bull because the way I felt toward the end of those eighteen miles is as close to Hell as I ever wish to venture.

The parts of my legs that I could feel burned, and the parts that had gone past this into complete numbness I feared as to whether I’d ever get feeling back.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, sweat pouring off my head, the only thing pulling me through the pain was Meatloaf telling me what he’d do for love on my Ipod drowning out reality.

Still I made it back (followed by said collapse in front of neighbours) and lay there thinking how on earth am I going to get through 26?!

Well now its moment of truth time, it supposed to be one of the best days of your life. Electric atmosphere, huge support, great crowds and all that jazz.

But in truth, after how I’ve felt already, if I make the finishing line and I’m still on two feet, you can take away the crowd, the noise, the music and I’ll still be the happiest guy alive. I’ll have faced the challenge, and I’ll have beaten it. Here’s to everyone in the same boat.

Fingers crossed we all make it!