Five am Sunday April 20th, another day, another London Marathon!  I rise from bed and pull on my running shorts and top.  I can't believe that a whole year has elapsed since Andrew Etherington, Doug Davidson and I completed the 2000 London Marathon, all in less than 4 hours 30 minutes raising £93,000 for the Prostate Research Campaign UK.  This year Doug and I are aiming to better not only our times but also the amount raised (Andrew is excused this year since he is moving house).  To help us we are joined by 5 other runners, making us the Magnificent Seven.  I'm only hoping that our survival rate will exceed that of the seven heroes in the classic cowboy film.

I peer out through the window: a dry, but cold and rather grey morning.  That's good, it means I won't be needing to wear the black bin liner with 2 holes for my arms that I have prepared the keep dry while we wait to start at Blackheath.  Not my favourite designer outfit!  The same breakfast as last year, namely muesli and banana - the fruit that is reputed to release its calories towards the end of the race when the glycogen stores of the muscles have been exhausted - then a lift down to the station from my wife to catch the train from Wimbledon to Waterloo, and on to Blackheath.  I get talking to a runner who is competing in his first marathon.  He is agonising about whether to wear his old running shoes, which look in danger of imminent disintegration, or a new pair bought only a few weeks ago.  I advise the former, and worry all the way round the course that he will appear barefoot and bloodied at the finish!

On Blackheath Common I meet up with my younger brother Jeff who has flown in specially from Boston, Massachusetts for the London Marathon.  It's his first Marathon and he's a little anxious (for anxious read panic stricken!), as his training regime has not been especially rigorous.  I try to reassure him that 26.2 miles isn't that far - it just feels a very long way!  Doug Davidson is also at the start, looking much more confident than last year and sporting a Yul Bryner hairstyle!  He underwent a radical prostatectomy three years ago and has made a perfect recovery (PSA still < 0.1).  His training has included running 20 miles home from his office in the City to Kingston once per week as well as joining me on a weekly circuit of Richmond Park (at least until the Foot and Mouth crisis diverted us to the rather soggy Thames towpath).

The remainder of the seven include Rex Willoughby, another prostate cancer survivor, Brian Basham, a patient of mine with BPH and Tony Armstrong, the Deputy Headmaster of a school in Kettering.  Our most improbable performer is another radical prostatectomy patient, L - (I can't mention his name because he still hasn't told his 86 year old mother about his prostate cancer problem and the surgery it necessitated!).  He only had his prostate removed in the London Clinic eight and a half weeks ago, and is running strictly against doctor's orders!  We have one back-up runner (in case of casualties!),  Dr Dan Wood, Urology Research Fellow from the Institute of Urology, who's also a first time Marathon man.  He looks fit and ready to go, but how will he look at the finish?

9.30 am arrives at last, the gun sounds and we are off.  A slow walk at first because of the crowds, but soon a gentle jog and finally the pace I will need to sustain for the next 4 hours.  The support from the crowds is incredible.  An estimated half a million spectators line the route and the noise, especially at Tower Bridge (the half way point) and Horseguards Parade (the finish) is deafening.  Our resident medical officer at the London Clinic (and a PRC grant holder) Dr Simon Bott is waiting to cheer me on at Tower Bridge.  He later pointed out that if you stay in one place as a spectator and watch all 35,000 runners go by you can witness the full spectrum of human athleticism - from the elite Kenyans, who are at the half way point in a little over an hour, to the octogenarians and the runners dressed as trees who bring up the rear.

Like last year, the first half of the Marathon is fairly easy and it helps to have done it before.  The difficult part is around Canary Wharf when the legs begin to hurt and the finish seems a long way away.  My family are stationed there to help me to stave off despair.  Under Tower Bridge and along the Embankment - the Houses of Parliament suddenly come into view.  The last 6.2 miles hurt a lot, and sadly the bananas do not seem to have replenished the glycogen stores of my leg muscles, which are complaining rather bitterly.  Vaseline has protected me against 'jogger's nipple' but my toes are hurting badly.

At last, the Finish Line! I cross it at 4 hours 18 mins 23 seconds - phew, 7 minutes faster than last year.  Doug Davidson has improved by more than half an hour and come in under 4 hours.  One by one my other heroes come in and some of them join us for concerted rehydration and sustenance at Tuttons Restaurant in Covent Garden.  My brother Jeff staggers home in just under 6 hours, accompanied by a man dressed as a Viking, complete with long boat!  Dan Wood comes in a little earlier alongside Sir Steven Redgrave, to tumultuous cheers.

After that, home for a long soak in a hot bath.  My toenails look in considerable jeopardy.  I have a feeling I may be waking up tomorrow to find them in bed beside me!

After the pain, the fun comes seeing the donations come in.  Thanks to the sterling work of Brian Basham, Rex Willoughby, Tony Armstrong and Stephen Newall, and to the fantastic generosity of my patients, we have so far raised £97,007, and with the help of Gift Aid and some further donations (any welcome!), we are confident that we will exceed £100,000.  We will present the final cheque at this year's PRC UK luncheon at the Savoy on October 17th.  Don't miss this event!  See you there, and perhaps in next year's London Marathon!