Things I wish my mother had (n't) told me... And things I wish I hadn't told her.

Last week I mentioned the fact that I hadn't told my mother about the fact that I was intending to run 64 miles and swim one, all in the name of fundraising, and I promised, faithfully, that this week, I was going to come clean and put her in the picture.

I mean, I had to, really. The fact was, part of the reason I'm doing this in the first place is because my Dad lost his Dad to cancer when he was only eighteen (in fact the justgiving page where you can still sponsor me - hint, hint - is actually partly in my Grandad's memory). With this in view, it was ridiculous even considering taking part in this fundraising challenge without my Dad even knowing about it - and with this in view, I had actually already told my Dad about it... But not my Mum (too scared to). My Dad, similarly, was also too afraid to tell my Mum about it all and had been keeping it quiet. This, as you can imagine, has put him in a very difficult position. He was having to pretend to know absolutely nothing about it whatsoever and when I actually did come clean this week, and tell my Mum all about it, he had to pretend to look surprised as well. (Oh the tangled web we weave...)

My Mum's reaction, I have to say, was not as negative as I expected it to be. Don't get me wrong - she doesn't want me to do any of the events. In her own words: "I don't want you to do all this running and swimming." In fact, she even urged me to give up on the attempt (Come on, Mum! What kind of advice is that for a parent to give to their child? Weren't you the one who drilled into me from an early age how important it is to keep one's promises? You can't change the advice now, just because the promise I've made doesn't suit you...) Her advice was: "Tell them you can't do it. Tell them you've changed your mind. Tell them anything, but don't do it." And when I told her that this particular advice was way up there with other pearls of wisdom I've gleaned from her over the years, including: "You won't feel a thing in childbirth. Well, you'll soon forget about it afterwards, anyway." (ha ha), and that I wasn't going to take any notice of it anyway, her response was "well, I'm not going to think about it."

Now there's a small part of me that feels that this IS good advice. Sometimes I don't feel like thinking about it either. Sadly, it keeps coming back to haunt me. If I don't think about it, I'll never manage to either complete any of the events or raise any money for the Weston Park Hospital Cancer Charity. I've got to keep up with the running and keep the momentum up with my swimming training, or those 65 miles will probably finish me off for good. And once I manage to get out there and get going, I (usually) quite enjoy it.

This week, of course, it was the Great North Run. I had to work on the day, but because a bookmakers has loads of televisions in it, I managed to watch the event. It was fantastic to watch, I have to say - really thrilling to think that this time next year, I'll be running too (albeit not dressed as a donkey as I saw one man was - how on Earth did he manage to keep running for 13.1 miles in that suit? It was the same size and looked nearly as heavy as a real donkey. Hats off to him - I hope he raised loads of money for the - erm, donkey? charity - he was running for. I'm assuming it was a donkey charity anyway, and this, I feel, is a reasonable assumption, given his attire). I would have really enjoyed watching it, if I hadn't kept getting interrupted by the, quite frankly, selfish customers who were ringing me up, at work, expecting to be able to place their bets for them.

I had a friend running in the Great North Run this year too and besides keeping a look out for him on the television, I'd asked him to give me the low down on what the event is like and how it really is to complete the course.

I wish I hadn't asked. This, I have to say, is a prime example of when following my mother's advice and "not thinking about it" would pay off. For I now wish I didn't know the information he has given to me on the matter. I wish I wasn't party to it. Here is a small extract of what he told me:

"It is quite hilly and hard work so take it easy and enjoy it. Loads of support along the way. Start is great through Newcastle up and down hill but it begins to feel like you have been running up hill forever. At about 5 miles a sign says now 3 miles downhill.....this is not strictly true you still have lots of ups and downs to go but it still feels like a lot of uphill and flat stuff (keep training on those hills in Sheffield it will help a lot).From 9 miles it starts to feel really tough as you are going uphill again I found it almost a deal breaker and loads of people started walking so no shame if that's what you want to do after all you are just completing it for charity. As you turn the corner onto the sea front at South Shields everybody says you are nearly there (crowd encouragement is great) but you still have 1.2 miles to go. This will be THE longest mile of your life (you will not want to walk) and the 800m's to go sign will try and trick you but that is still half a mile."

I know he wasn't trying to put me off, but I have to say... Perhaps not thinking about it is the way to go after all...