It’s Thursday night, my last training run before the marathon, and I’m getting ready in an almost unconscious routine. The dog is looking at me as I put on my shoes, and I know she’s thinking; “there here goes again, off without me, not like when he used to take me along”. Strap on the iPod; U2, the Chili Peppers, Cake, Dylan, Sheryl Crow and Natalie Merchant to get me through, and I leave somehow with a smile on my face. This is what I’ve trained 16 months for, and I’m feeling impossibly a mix of exhilaration and terror. House