Mission accomplished

It's done.

I crossed the finishing line yesterday afternoon in four hours, 20 minutes and one second exactly and for the last ten miles it hurt like hell. But, to my mind, surely that just reinforces why the race is worth doing; if it was easy, what would be the point in you sponsoring me?!

All the things you hear and read about the wonderful atmosphere are absolutely true. The spectators are lined three and four deep around almost the entirety of the course and it does make a huge difference when things get tough.

Although, despite the huge crowds and the vast number of runners, I was still reminded of what a small world we live in. Seconds after crossing the finish line and getting my medal, the first person I bumped into was Clare Johnston, landlady of my local bar back in Coleraine! Brilliant.

Most importantly, all the money that has been so kindly pledged and donated over the last few months can now be rightfully claimed on Sebastian's behalf and given to the two nominated charities.

The total currently stands at over £5,200 and I know there's still a bit more to come in yet. Indeed, Sebastian and his little sister Katie raised more than £100 themselves with a bucket collection in their own street on Saturday afternoon.

I spoke to him straight after the race and said that the medal was safely around my neck. However, when I go across to Northern Ireland in May to join him in presenting the cheque to Heartbeat, it will be placed around his. That is where I intend to leave it.

Thank you to everybody who has helped the two of us in any way over the last few months. It has been an incredible journey and hopefully, as a result of your enormous generosity, we will be able to do some good.

Cometh the hour, runneth the Barry

Well folks, not long now.

Tomorrow morning, I set off on the 10am train from Leeds to London King's Cross. Following a quick check-in at the hotel, it's over to the ExCel Arena in Docklands to collect my number. After that, goodness knows what, although pasta (still bleugh!) will undoubtedly feature.

Come Sunday, it's breakfast at about 7am and then off to Blackheath for the start of the race at 9.45.

It would be wrong to say I'm not nervous, I am. But I'm more numb than nervous.

I say that because I'm genuinely still in shock at the amount of kindness and generosity I've witnessed at first hand over the last number of weeks and, in particular, over the last few days.

We live in an age where cynicism rules and probably with good reason. But, thanks to the scores of people who've supported Sebastian and I since we started out on our little venture in January, we've reached a level of sponsorship we had neither right nor reason to expect.

I'll get the glory on Sunday if I manage to cross that line. In reality, the glory belongs with all of you.

On behalf of us both - thank you so much.

PS I'm due back in Pudsey around Monday teatime so, if you're bored, log on to see what happened

Out on the streets with Mad Eliz (Lizzie to you and me)

I always thought there'd be a twist in the tale in the final hours leading up to race day. Tonight it came.

I arrived home an hour and a bit ago to find a series of pictures e-mailed to my PC, one of which you can see above.

The girl on the left is Mad Eliz Brown - Eliz is pronounced "Lizzie" (nope, I can't work it out either).

Eliz is a great pal of Sebastian's who contacted me a few weeks ago to say she had plans to raise a few quid. This afternoon she struck.

Eliz had tee-shirts designed, decorated some buckets, grabbed Sebastian, her lovely little boy Jacob (holding the bucket) and her neighbour Jill (right) and off they went around the streets and doors of Coleraine.

To this point, they have terrified local residents to the tune of £235 with the hope of more to come when the sun rises. Good people of the town beware.

Eliz, you're a legend. You're also completely and utterly mad (and no, I'm not taking that back!)

Fan-bloody-tastic.

What's more, for the first time, I can say with good reason that we might just make it to the magic £5,000.

If you haven't already donated, please, please, please do your bit to help us get there.

And if you happen to live in Coleraine, watch out for mad people with buckets roaming your neighbourhood. I can't guarantee they won't bite.

There's always someone worse off than yourself

The training is finally at an end.

All that's left now is a brisk 26.2 mile cruise around London on Sunday morning and the job's a good 'un.

Which brings me to Jordan.

If ever there was someone in need of proper support, it's her. And I now have every sympathy for the girl (come on, hear me out!)

As a result of my unfortunate collision with a Rottweiler in Bradford last year, I've been wearing quite a heavy support on my right knee throughout my training.

Then, in January, I developed pain in my left foot and have had to strap it up ever since. Three weeks ago, the arch of my right foot started to hurt. Cue some more strapping. And finally, the Saturday before last, my left knee "went" - and a support was found for that too.

Up until the short training session I've just finished, I was hoping to only wear a light strapping on my right knee for the race itself and nothing else (other than my vest and shorts, you understand - there'll be children present. Plus, despite the obvious similarities between the two of us, I'm not actually Jordan). But the pain is still there in my other knee and both feet - and my right knee is actually sorer now than it's been for months.

I also heard some man on the radio this morning saying he was determined to cross the finish line on Sunday even if he had to use his eyelids. But given the amount of money I've had to spend on running shoes over the last few months, I'd prefer to complete the distance on my feet. Oh, and I'd like to retain just a hint of dignity if at all possible. So loads of strapping it will have to be.

At least I can console myself with the knowledge that, once the race is over, I can throw my supports away.

Poor, misunderstood, victimised Jordan doesn't have that luxury - at least until after her next reduction surgery planned for June (according to my sources).

The freak!

The vest of both sides

I tell you what, let it not be said that this blog isn't really exciting.

I mean, where else are you likely to be treated to photographs of a vest from two - yes two - different angles? Riveting stuff.

Anyway, thanks to the efforts of my very skillful mother and a nice tee-shirt shop person in Portrush, the above is what I'll have draped on me for a large part of Sunday with the number 19259 pinned on the front (I have to pick that up on Saturday).

We've also had a few very good days on the fundraising side of things and, as I write, the total now stands on the brink of £4,000.

I've said it so many times over the last few weeks, but the generosity of all of you who have pledged or given money is incredible - and we're not finished yet...

Running to the pub

We're down to a week.

This time next Sunday I should hopefully be somewhere beyond the 20-mile mark and thinking of beer. (Some people have told me a pint is the last thing I'll be craving once I'm over the line but I don't think they know me very well).

Following my little difficulties over the Portugese cobbles last weekend, I've been back out on the velvet roads of Pudsey twice in the last three days - four miles on Friday, six miles this morning.

All that's left now are two 20-minute jaunts tomorrow and Wednesday and the training is officially over. It's a little hard to take in (unlike my first pint which, I can assure doubters, will be taken in very easily next Sunday afternoon).

Meantime, seven days of abstinence from all things fun now awaits me. (Does anyone REALLY think I'm not going to have a shed load of beer next Sunday? They must be drunk!)

Backroom banter

Safely back in Pudsey now and don't I know it!

Regular readers of this rubbish (if there are any) may remember, back in January, me introducing you to Andy, The Backroom Barber.

As you might expect from someone in his profession, Andy can talk. He is also one of the better swearers I've heard around these parts - and it is a very competitive industry I can assure you.

I've been banging on about the Marathon every time I've seen Andy over the last few months and, on my last visit, he very kindly kept me his copy of the Pudsey Times which featured a nice story on what Sebastian and I were up to.

Sensing a hint of vulnerability, I struck.

"So, can I put you down for a few quid then?" I enquired gently.

"I'll give you a streamline haircut for free and you can donate what you would've paid to the fund," he replied without a breath. "But you're not getting a ****ing tenner if that's what you're after."

A very fair deal from a very fair man I'm sure you'll agree.

The above picture was taken by me just a few minutes ago from Andy's famous chair - opposite the mirror. I think it's quite arty.

Thanks to Andy for being a sport and, if you're reading this, you're not getting a ****ing penny back if I break my leg on the day!

Cobble wobbles

I´ve now made an executive decision to hold off until I arrive home tomorrow night before taking to the streets once again. The clue is in the picture.

As previous visitors to Portugal will be aware, the country is obsessed with sticking those little cobbles everywhere. They might look good but they´re a pig to run on. (In fact, running on a pig would be instantly preferable).

They´re clearly the reason why I hurt so much after running on them on Saturday and Sunday - and yes I know, on reflection, it´s a bit obvious but I´m not always the sharpest implement out there.

On other matters, I´ve already broken my second pair of sunglasses and I´ve only been here just over five days. I can´t help myself.

No matter how many pairs I buy - and I´d put myself up there with Post Spice over the years - I manage to break them all. (Unfortunately I also look as ridiculous with them on as she does).

My "Ulsterman Tan" is holding little prospect of me being mistaken for a local - and it´ll be gone in a day when I get back anyway. Conscious of the fact that I´ve got to wear a vest on the big day, I´ve been making a special effort to lie in the sun. But it´s pink and it´s white - no brown in there at all.

Finally, huge congratulations to Marty Quinn and his Coleraine team for their Irish Cup Semi-Final win over Donegal Celtic last night. Hopefully I can make it across for another big day out at Windsor Park at the beginning of May. Come on the Bannsiders!