Thumbs up for Mozza

"I hope this hasn't spoilt your Wednesday," said Morrissey with more than hint of irony three songs into last night's gig.

"Stick around - it will."

We took his advice but it didn't. He and his lively five-piece band were much more fun than I expected. Mozza himself was hilarious.

"Thank you to you, thank you to me...and thank you to Asda," were his closing and perhaps most surreal words of the evening before singing his final number. And then he was off.

I've no idea what makes that man tick but it's good stuff.

Heaven knows Andy's miserable now

First thing this morning I was the recipient of some good old-fashioned barbershop wisdom.

Went to see Andy, The Backroom Barber, who gives me a two back and sides and a bit off the top every three weeks for “five and a half, mate.” Can’t be bad to that.

This morning I mentioned I was heading off to see Morrissey in concert at the Doncaster Dome.

“I’m not a fan,” Andy announced. “I hear he’s living in America now. Britain’s not good enough for him.”

“If you ask me,” he proclaimed, “this country’s better off without the miserable ****.”

I’ll tell you after tonight’s performance if I think he has a point (!)

So far so good and I'm feeling smiley

Although I've been physically training for the Marathon since last July when I was allowed back on to a treadmill, the last 36 hours have felt like the real beginning of this whole thing.

Finalising the set up of this blog yesterday morning was the first step. Then I went for a 10 mile run, the furthest I have gone since my doggy difficulty more than a year ago. And then, over the course of today, the moral support and pledges of money have started to come in - and at a much faster rate than I could ever have wished for at this stage.

I e-mailed my Facebook friends late yesterday afternoon asking for donations and many have already come back to say they'll help. Bless them all - it's brilliant and hopefully the beginning of a trend.

On the downside of my existence, my wife Vanessa and I are now down to just 18 more episodes of The West Wing before the whole epic is at an end. I love The West Wing (Vanessa likes it but I'm not sure there's any kind of real passion in there. I might be wrong but, you know, a man can kind of sense these things).

We (she really wasn't keen at the beginning) first started season one on DVD about three years ago and now only what's left of the seventh and final season remains. And then, who knows what's next. Conversation, perhaps? Nah, it'll never come to that.

I jest of course - no, really - because I'm feeling smiley. It's been a good start to this whole Marathon lark.

Here's hoping for more good fortune - that leads to a fortune for the two charities.

Welcome to my blog - and please keep your dog on a lead!

In exactly 11 weeks time, I will be shuffling along a road somewhere between Greenwich and The Mall in search of the London Marathon finish line.

It was a line I had hoped to cross in 2007 when, after three unsuccessful applications for a place, I finally got accepted. My plan to run had been hatched many years before that when Sebastian, who's now 10, was only about two and not at his best. But it took me quite a while after that to pluck up the courage to apply. Then the three rejections, before getting the good news - I was in!

I started putting my fundraising plans in place, stepped up the training and all was going well. Then, one Monday in mid-January, I was walking head bowed across Centenary Square in Bradford. My destination was the sandwich section at nearby Boots. I didn't make it.

As I reached the centre of the Square, I suddenly noticed, out of the corner of my eye, something dark coming towards me at speed. Next thing I knew, I was three feet in the air. As I landed, I felt severe pain in my right knee - which I later discovered to be a damaged anterior cruciate ligament. The dark thing which hit me was a fully grown Rottweiler which had been let off its lead (unlike the one in the picture which is rather sensibly wearing his) to chase pigeons. Naturally I swore loudly at its owner as I was carted off to the local A&E - it was the one bit of pleasure I had that day so I'm not apologising!

What followed was several weeks on crutches, several more weeks of physio and no 2007 London Marathon. Hopefully, come Sunday 13 April 2008, I will finally make it across that line.

Welcome to my blog, by the way. I hope you find it fun. More importantly, I hope you sponsor me.