the day of the London Marathon

So, after all the preparation, the early morning training sessions, setting off at 6am on cold winter's mornings, and even giving up rugby for a few months so he wouldn't get injured , my son Callum finally got to run in his first full marathon. And what a marathon to start with...the London Marathon itself.

It's something I've watched on BBC television for many years, and it's compulsive viewing. For the first time though, I went down to watch it along with our family and friends.

What a wonderful day...with London showing off in the sunshine...Mr Thinking of the Days and I passed The Tower of London,

before making our way to a standing point where we met other Pancreatic Cancer UK supporters .

We all shouted every time we saw  runners wth their distinctive charity running vests, and I started to go cross eyed as my eyes scanned the waves of runners coming towards us. Thousands of them, most running for their chosen charities in memory of their loved ones.

All sizes, all shapes, from all over the world, some cruising past casually where we were at the 12.5 mile mark, some struggling already. Then came Callum - he saw us, I was screaming his name, and he came over, gave me a big hug, and ran off looking as fresh as a daisy. My eyes filled with tears of pride , so I turned took this photo and composed myself.

Of course I was fine after that, and we then joined up with our daughter and her husband , my eldest son and his girlfriend, Grace and Rich, Danny and Alex and even Cammo who is over from Australia. We waited by the 23 mile mark,

 but began to wonder where Callum was....as we waited and waited. His knee which had proved troublesome a few weeks was giving him problems from mile 15 onwards, and when we finally saw him, he didn't see us. He was firmly focused on the road ahead, pain etched onto his face, dragging his leg slightly.

But he finished, and we caught up with him afterwards at the Queen Elizabeth 11 Conference Centre by Westminster Abbey. That's where many of the charities hire rooms to welcome their runners, give them massages and a place where they can rest and meet up with their supporters. Here was his lovely girlfriend Elly and her family and friends who'd also come to give support and so a photo of all of us was taken. I love this....

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And this

Callum could hardly walk by now, but managed to get to the restaurant for a curry

And to have a laugh and a joke wit his brother, sister and his gorgeous cousin Ollie, who we reckon looks a little like Tom Hiddlestone

He's still walking like John Wayne, but is ecstatic at raising what will eventually be over £4,000 for such a good cause...for research into pancreatic cancer  and support for those who have it and their families. People like his uncle Dave and grandmother

But of course this is just one story out of millions who were there.

What a day. All those runners, over 39,000 of them, and the huge crowds who came to watch. The sense of camaradie and fellowship and fun which was all around. The millions of pounds raised for such worthwhile charities.

What a day...what a bloody brilliant, beautiful, emotional and proud day for so many people.

Then what a sad day the following day as we learned about the army captain aged 31 who died after collapsing at the marathon. RIP David Seath.










 

Cherry blossom days



When the cherry blossom is out, you know Spring is here. It's the law. Just the sight of the blossom fills me with joy and a sense that all will be well. The cherry trees are showing off their finery in towns, cities and gardens everywhere in April.

 

There's one tree though that means the world to me. It's fifteen steps from the back gate of the BBC studios where I work, and this week I keep nipping across to see it, touch it, stand underneath it and look up at the pink canopy of blossom set against a bright blue sky .

 

 

 

 

And if I focus slightly to my right, there's Leicester Cathedral in the background.







 

 

 

 Turning around, I love the way the blossom looks almost ethereal set against the silver grey and powder white  historic Guildhall.

 

 

 And then if I stand close up to the blossom, it's so easy to be completely overwhelmed by the pale pink perfection of the petals.

 

 

 

 

But the beauty of the blossom is so fleeting, you have to appreciate it while you can. There's something quite magical about seeing something so transient against a backdrop of buildings hundreds of years old.





 

I know it's officially Spring, but outside the sky is dark and large hailstones have been falling this evening. Will the cherry blossom still be there when I go back to work on Tuesday?