Gels, energy drinks and supplements

When I was simply trotting around the park attempting to keep simultaneously breathing and moving one leg in front of the other the only gel I ever used was in my hair. Drink was carried in a battered water bottle I had nicked from one of the kids' lunchboxes and supplements came with the Sunday papers.

Now that I am honing myself into an elite athlete (or at least hoping to make it round the London Marathon) I have been introduced to the complex world of energy drinks, rehydration powders and performance gels. I am quite keen on the idea of anything that will give my tired old body a boost and keep my legs moving on long runs so this has become an area of some fascination.

I have tried a few gels and while some are frankly quite vile, particularly the ones with caffeine in them, though I have also found them to be the most effective, the nicest flavour is to be found in the Multipower Multicarbo Energy Gel. I am actually quite partial to the cherry-banana flavour and when I sucked it down on my last long run I really did feel an increase in my energy that got me through a tough patch at around two hours in.

Multipower's Re-Charge Drink is also a welcome change to the claggy, lumpy protein shakes I have been using as it's refreshing orange flavour is actually welcome after a run. Now I just have to work out a strategy for energy drinks during the race. So far I have resisted even carrying water, but having invested in a Nathan Speed Belt 2 from the extremely helpful The Running Outlet, the time has come to give some drinks a try.

Given my success with Multipower's other products I am going to give its ISO Drink a try and will report back on whether it turns me into the speed demon I so long to become.

On the marathon I hear that Lucozade is handed out, but I have heard reports from quite a few expert marathoners that this isn't for everyone. Since it is free I should probably give it a try, but the only thing that orange drink will ever make me think of is being ill in bed when I was a child. It was a 70s myth that it could cure any ailment, but just a sniff of the stuff reminds me of being confined to bed and feeling rotten, not really what you want halfway into a marathon.

Also need to see how the belt fares on my runs. I have been told by everyone and his cousin that I must drink when I run, but I really don't like to as I find it breaks my stride and turns my stomach. I am also concerned at how it will feel running with bottles around my waist. I am assured by many internet reviews and the man in the shop that I have made the best choice, but I shall have to see on my next run.

Fundraising fear

Today is officially a rest day as my calves are screaming after my 14-mile sightseeing run yesterday. The last thing I need right now is an injury, I am scared enough about running the marathon, without losing precious training time because I pushed myself too hard.

But rather than kick back and enjoy a day off I feel my stomach twisting with fear about quite how much cash I still have to raise. My wonderful, generous friends have really dug deep and have donated around £700 so far which is a fantastic start for which I am so grateful, but honestly my mates aren't millionaires and I can't expect their kindness to fill the pot.

My mind is churning with ideas as to how to raise the cash, but I must admit to being the kind of person who dissolves into a puddle of anxiety at (a) asking people for money and (b) organising events with the potential to go tits up. I suspect to be a successful fundraiser these are flaws that should be missing from your character.

I am toying with the idea of hosting a pub quiz, but quail at all the admin involved. It is hard enough finding time to train, see the children and earn a few paltry coins to keep the wolf from the door, without having to organise a grand fundraiser single-handed. Added to which I cannot escape the fact that getting people to cough up for a night out is a notoriously tricky thing to do, no matter how noble the cause.

Although I think that is part of my problem, I need to shake off the idea that I am asking people to give me money personally and remember the wonderful cause this is in aid of. I know of so many people whose relatives have been cared for by the North London Hospice, including my husband's grandma, and I know it depends on donations for its survival, so I will just have to keep this in mind next time I have to pop on my brass-necked persona. Gulp.

With this in mind feel free to sponsor me by clicking on the London Marathon logo.

Halfway there

Before I do any race I like to feel that I have the distance I am planning to cover in the bag. By the time I did 5K I knew I could run that far with ease, same goes for 10K and I am confident about my upcoming 15K race too, but I knew the marathon would be different. I understand that I can't just pop on my shoes and do 26.2 miles, but I suppose never having even completed a half marathon was making me feel a bit unsure of myself.

Today I set myself a challenge that I hoped would put my mind at rest. I had a meeting in town at the BFI on the South Bank and I decided that rather than hop on the tube, I would pull on my trainers and run there instead. A fellow runner had assured me the distance was doable and suggested a race route that took me there via several of London's prettiest parks.

Off I set giving myself a good three hours to ensure I wasn't late for my meeting (luckily it was with a very understanding client who I knew wouldn't mind chatting to me in my sweaty running clothes). At first the route was pretty grim taking in main roads and lots of confusing identikit streets in the labyrinth that is Hampstead Garden Suburb.

I kept getting lost and eventually found myself yomping up a trail that brought me out a good mile from where I thought I was. That place never fails to fox my sense of direction and I was glad to put it behind me. Then it was on through Belsize Park, which was tricky due to the influx of pedestrians on the pavements until I reached Primrose Hill.

I was impressed that after 70 minutes of running I could breeze up the eponymous hill with ease, but I was rewarded by a stunning view of my home town. Up rose the BT Tower in all its sci fi glory, around spun the London Eye and the Shard is finally starting to live up to its name. I could even spot the now diminutive dome of St Paul's nestled on the outskirts of the City. Such a view cannot fail to lift the spirits and I raced down the hill with a smile on my face.

Regent's Park proved to be a bit of a disappointment as without the softening influence of leaves or flowers it's a bit flat and grey after the wonders of Primrose Hill, and I found myself getting disoriented and lost again. Not so much fun when the fatigue is beginning to bite. Eventually I escaped its bosky grasp for the choked Euston Road and then on towards the West End.

It is a particularly cruel torture for a shopaholic like me to have to run past all the boutiques of Marylebone High Street without being able to take in the wares in the windows, but after all the direction malfunctions early in my run I had to get a move on now. Fortunately at about an hour and a half in I really was into my stride and fully enjoying the run.

Once I had escaped the back streets behind Oxford Street teeming with delivery drivers and shop staff having a sneaky fag, I finally glimpsed the white splendour of Marble Arch and once again I felt real joy at being able to explore London powered only by my own legs. I ran through Hyde Park and on to Green Park, after which my way was stopped by a police man who had closed the road to accommodate the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace.

I stopped in my increasingly weary stride - I had now hit the two-hour mark - to watch the soldiers in their grey coats and magnificent black bearskins hoick their ceremonial rifles onto their shoulders. It certainly made a change from being stuck in my office on a Tuesday morning.

Onwards I went down the Mall and across into the pretty St James' Park, where I had to work hard to avoid crashing into the abundant wildfowl that make their home there. I left several shocked geese in my wake.

As I rounded the corner out of the park up popped Big Ben, presiding over the Gothic might of the Houses of Parliament. This surely has to be one of the best running routes in the world. I dodged tourists taking pictures of one another hanging out of the old fashioned red phone boxes and then powered on across the river.

My goal was in sight. As the barges and tourist boats chugged along the brackish brown waters of the Thames I saw that the pods from the London Eye were laid out on the ground for cleaning like giant petals fallen from a vast metal flower. As the BFI hove into view I finally came to a halt, checked the MapMyRun app on my iPhone and gave an internal whoop as I had covered 14 miles - over half the distance I will have to cover in the marathon. It took around 2hrs 15mins which is a little slower than I am hoping for, but not bad for a first attempt at a truly long run.

Cross training

As I am only into my second week of marathon training proper the title of this post isn't literal yet, though I suspect that it will become so over the following weeks.

I will admit to feeling a little daunted by this whole marathon thing now. After feeling cranky and tired all day after my 10 mile run, I dread to think what kind of a monster I will be after 26 miles, but perhaps my family should clear out until I recover, lest I bite their heads off.

Luckily today was a rest or cross training day so I took myself off to the gym and did a couple of easy half hour classes. It was a nice rest and gave me the chance to stretch out my aching thigh muscles, which have been playing up ever since my session of continuous hills the other day. But I will admit that I never feel quite right when I have finished for the day and I am not dripping with sweat. I had to restrain myself from taking a quick trot around the block just to get my heart pumping.

Still I am reliably told that rest is an important a part of training as pushing yourself, so I will heed the experts and take it easy. Tomorrow is another chance to punish myself with some threshold training, so perhaps it is a good idea to enjoy a day of R&R before the torture starts again.

On a side note I am also beginning to feel supremely daunted by the fundraising target I have set myself. I am now at over £600 thanks to my fabulously generous friends, but that still leaves the small question of around £1,400 to go.

I have called the school who sounded rather dubious about helping out, but hopefully I will manage to talk them round with my promise to tell the children all about the marathon in return for them please, please, please helping me to raise some money. Fingers crossed anyway, or I shall have to offer to sit in a tub of cold baked beans or something equally nutty to raise the extra thousands.

Racking up the miles

Since signing up to run the London Marathon I have had my nose buried in the internet attempting to hone the perfect training schedule, sadly all this research has left me none the wiser as to how to up my paltry runs from an easy 10K up to a, frankly inconceivably long, 26.2 miles.

The plan I had picked before I actually entered the marathon was based around short speed training sessions with one relatively long run at the weekend. This works for me in one way because it is easier to fit in than lots of long, time-consuming, runs, but in another I think I need the psychological confidence that I can handle the miles so I am attracted to the more old school approach of simply running for as long as you can, as often as you can.

That said today I put in my longest distance so far at around 10.6 miles. It took me about 1hr 35, which is on target in terms of speed, but I was tired by the end of it and my legs are screaming now, which makes me fear the full distance even more.

I have always subscribed to the philosophy of running through the pain, and shall stick by this in my training, but it isn't fun running around after four children when every part of your body aches. Yet more reason I should probably have got my marathon racing bug out of my system before I had children.

I am going along to a training session held for those running the marathon for charities later in the month and perhaps I will get some clarity on which type of training will get me around the course in the best shape, in the meantime I will continue to mix and match and hope for the best.

The London Marathon

I can't quite believe it, but I have just entered for this year's London Marathon. In a moment of madness I have decided to run to fundraise for a local charity - The North London Hospice - in memory of my husband's grandma who died there recently.

I am not sure if I am more daunted by the prospect of running over 26 miles or of raising £2,000 for the charity. I am hoping people will dig deep in recognition of my insanity and if not I will just have to run a million cake sales.

But the overwhelming feeling I have right now is of pride. This time last year I was in the early foothills of a journey that would take me from being morbidly obese to a healthy weight, but more than just losing weight it has taken me from being someone who had no pride in themselves to a woman who feels thrilled at the prospect of running a marathon.

For all the excitement I felt at looking better and wearing nicer clothes, the thing that has really made all the effort worthwhile is turning myself into someone that I could be proud of, and perhaps more importantly that my husband and children could be proud of. I will never forget the feeling of seeing all my boys waving and cheering as I completed my first 10K race in Finsbury Park. This for a mum who had once been so large she couldn't keep up with them in the park.

I was so proud of myself for showing that with determination and dedication you can turn your life around. Lots of people ask me what my secret is and really I don't have one. I just think that if you want something badly enough you will achieve it. I was sick of hating myself and I was terrified of setting a bad example for my sons. I want them to believe they can do anything if they work hard and put their backs into it. I want them to know that while it might not come easily, you can do it.

I know a lot of people think I am mad for becoming so obsessed with running, but I don't think they understand what it has given me in return for my dedication. It has saved my sanity during hard times as nothing clears your mind like a long run outdoors, it has allowed me to swap a body that I hated for one that I trust to carry me for miles and miles without giving up. It has shown me what you can achieve if you put your mind to it, so what's not to love about running?

Of course it is tough and when I am dragging myself through an arduous training routine I often think longingly of collapsing onto the sofa, but then I remember how pleased I will feel with myself if I don't give up. I know that no matter how hard and how exhausting training is, it will be worth it in the end.

So the next few months promise to be even more challenging that I anticipated, but at the moment my only goal is to simply pass the finish line without passing out. Wish me luck!

Oh and if you want to sponsor me and help me reach my target please click on the marathon logo above or visit www.virginmoneygiving.com/UrsulaHirschkorn

What a difference a bra makes

Anyone who knows me will be well aware of my innate talent for spending money on clothes. Since losing weight I have had to replace my entire wardrobe more than once, and boy have I enjoyed the process. However my spending is usually reserved for such high street fashion stalwarts as H&M and River Island (love their skinny jeans) and strangely when it comes to sports kit I come over all skinflintish.

While I wouldn't blink about dropping £40 on a pair of jeans or a nice sweater, for some reason I baulk at spending the same on a decent sports bra. This is probably why I ended up with a motley collection of ill filling, unsupportive brassieres shoved in the bottom of my gym kit shelf.

This is a big mistake as I am not under-endowed in the breast department and all the pounding of pavements can lead to a rather unfortunate sagging effect, which is why the best pre-Christmas present I got was a fab Panache underwired sports bra (see above). These bras are specifically designed for bigger girls, with cup sizes ranging from D-H and the expertise shines through in this beautifully engineered bra.

I was concerned that the underwiring would be uncomfortable as I am not a big fan of this type of scaffolding, but my fears proved to be unfounded and I didn't feel a thing other than securely supported. The bra also fitted perfectly, another thing I was worried about having read tales of other sports bras coming up small (like lots of sports kit in my experience as I am still only just squeezing into an ASICS size 12, while in everyday clothes a 10 is more than big enough).

I have extensively tested my bra on both long and short runs and at the gym and it has come up trumps throughout, with not a wobble or chafe to complain about. Whether I could back up the claim that the bra cuts bounce by 83 percent I am not sure as maths is not my strong suit, but it certainly makes me feel secure and essentially allows me to ignore my boobs while running, which is no easy feat when you are an E cup!

So if you are a womanly-shaped runner then give the Panache bra a try as you won't be disappointed. I was so pleased with mine that I just ordered two more from Figleaves to help me get through my arduous new training schedule.