A great night for sport

I'm writing this at the end of Britain's greatest day in sport ever. 6 gold medals have been won by team GB, including 3 in the Olympic stadium. No doubt as I write this others are blogging, tweeting and sharing on Facebook, but away from the limelight, it's also been an important night for sport for me as well.

To set the scene, you need to turn the clock back somewhere between 3 hours and 30 years. Earlier this evening, one of the people I follow on Twitter posted about how these Olympics are laying to rest some of the ghosts from sport in his schooldays. I replied that at school I was never any good at sport. I was hopeless at football, usually the last to be picked for the team, was even worse at cricket, and just when my hopes were raised and I thought that my talent might have been spotted in field sports, it turns out that I had totally misunderstood the games master when he said, "Fox, that javelin-throwing defies description. One more like that and it's the high-jump!"

That was then. Now, these years later, I have run 29 Marathons, my most recent being on the centenary of the 1912 Stockholm Olympic Marathon. I completed the course in 4h 36m 25s, a time which I will need to halve if I am to have any chance of Making the team GB Olympic squad.

But in the half hour after posting that, my twitter account went ballistic. The person I replied to re-tweeted it, and basically that, and his earlier post, opened the floodgates. From near and far people were replying how finding a love of sport since leaving school has helped them with issues they had at school and how they did not exactly shine on the sports field. Around this there are all sorts of issues, some to do with bullying, and many to do with self-esteem. In my case it was a combination of things, probably due to the fact that I was one of the quiet and shy members of the class, something which some translated as me being a bit soft, and also the fact that some of my classmates could see what I was trying my  damndest not to see - the fact that I was gay. (That is an entirely separate blog and a whole other issue)

When running at school, either cross-country or the 1500 meters, there was something about it which was different. I was still towards the end of the pack, but the feeling inside me was different - this was something I could do, even if I didn't excel at it. Looking back (and we can all be wise after the event) I should have had some coaching for running at school, or at least in the years which followed. Instead, I more or less neglected it, only going for a run if I was feeling particularly worried about something.

Yet when I was 26, for some reason, I wanted to put my trainers on again and get out there. I started with a 1.5 mile course, and thought that I had achieved something by completing it. I suppose I had. Soon I entered a 5-mile race, and then the distance of the races I entered increased. !0km (6.2 miles), 10 miles, half-marathon (13.1 miles) and then the big one, a full marathon, 26.2 miles, that first one being completed in 4h 34m exactly.

No-one told me that Marathon running was addictive. I knew from the moment I got my breath back that I would do another. Given half a chance I'd do another tomorrow. As mentioned above, the total is currently 29 at the last count, with a place in numbers 30 and 31, and most likely 32 as well.

Every Marathon has a story, and every Marathon has a medal and t-shirt that comes with it. That is certainly a great boost for the self-esteem. To look back to my school days, if you had told the teachers or the other pupils that one day I would be able to say that I had run 29 Marathons, they would have laughed. Well, let them laugh. The 12-year old me would laugh as well. In all this, whatever they may think now, I can tell you that no-one has had a bigger surprise then me.

So once the fuss from the twitter reaction died down, I went out for a run. I was going to do 4 miles, but the adrenaline took over and it turned into 6. I arrived home to see Mo Farah win the 10000 meters (approx 6 miles) in less than half the time it had taken me to do the same distance! It doesn't matter, I had all the stories that people had posted on Twitter going round my head, and I was very conscious that I was running surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. (Hebrews 12:1)

So now, it's late. I'm sitting here in urgent need of a bath, tears streaming down my face, grateful for the fact that I live alone - even the most understanding partner could have me sectioned for this! But there's a verse which I keep in mind before a Marathon, one which has inspired countless thousands down the ages, whether running in a physical sense or just getting over life's various hurdles.
"They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not grow weary, they shall walk and not faint" (Isaiah 40:31)

To everyone struggling with issues of bullying, low self-esteem, whatever, there is a way through it. Take heart. Tonight's Twitter stories have moved me to tears, and I'm sure there must be many others where they came from.