It was fairly low-hassle as well, as we had all checked-in online beforehand, so all we had to do at the airport was show our boarding passes and passports and wait at the departure gate. The most stressful part of the process was the stringent security, which meant I was restricted in what kind of energy drinks and powders I could take (and, I would find out, bring back). Oh well – I managed to cram my rucksack with all the essentials I needed.

On arrival at Dublin, the most tiring thing I did was the long walk from the arrival gate to the exit – a walk which never seemed to end! Fortunately we managed to find our way to a taxi rank outside, where a jovial Irishman took us to our hotel.

The original choice of hotel had problems with it’s water supply to our floor, so they moved us to their higher-rated sister hotel. Unfortunately for me it was also an extra mile away from the start line of the marathon, but at least that would help me warm up on the day!

Now our room wasn’t ready when we arrived, so me and my dad left our luggage with Alan and David and left for the marathon Expo. A fairly lengthy bus ride later, we arrived at the Royal Dublin Society main hall. The first priority was to collect my race number and timing chip. So we both went up onto the balcony and collected my race pack. The chip was attached to the back of the race number, instead of being tied to your laces, like in Edinburgh and Leeds. Then I had to walk over a special mat to “activate” my chip and saw my name flash up on a screen, which I still find a great novelty.

We spent about another hour walking round the rest of the expo. I was quite impressed by the scale and organisation, it was about twice as large as at Edinburgh. There were a lot of exhibitors and I came out with a whole heap of free samples and leaflets. At the Adidas stand I had my gait analysed, which told me that I had a neutral gait. This surprised me because previously I had been told I was a serious over-pronator. So I was left a little bit confused on that issue.

After me and dad returned from that, it was time to look for somewhere to eat. I was in the mood for something Irish and hearty and of course full of complex carbs like potatoes. Eventually, after wandering round a chilly Dublin for a while, we found a pub called O’Shea’s. It was busy, but we found two tables for the four of us. I had seafood chowder to start, but I didn’t realise chowder contained smoked fish, which I don’t really like. Then for the main I had braised lamb shanks, with mashed potato – though not a lot of it.

After that, we walked half-way across town to try out a bar with a reputation for serving top-quality ales. My support crew did their best to test this claim. It was a shame I couldn’t join in with the drinking, but if there is one thing which was going to adversely affect my performance, it was alcohol. So I was left drinking orange juice all night.

Eventually I decided to leave the beer-drinking to the experts and left to return to the hotel and get an early night before the big race.

With this new strategy, I managed to cover a lot of ground in a short time, up until I reached North Street and the bridge over the Inner Ring Road. There was a steady incline here, with deceptive flat sections, which led into further climbs. Being less than a kilometre away from the finish line, I was overtaken by enthusiasm and pushed ahead instead of pacing myself. This exhausted me as the route entered the city centre again. I made several last pushes, only to discover the route continuing round another corner.

Once the route turned onto the Headrow again, I knew for sure that the end was close and that it was basically a straight line to the finish. I tried again for another last final push but I had exhausted myself so much, and given myself blisters by pushing too hard in the final kilometre, that I had little left to give. Nevertheless, I managed to run across the finish line, recording a time of 01:01:23.

From the outset it was obvious that the Edinburgh Marathon and the Leeds 10k were very different events. That may sound obvious, but the conditions, the amount of people and the distance were all very different. The number of people gathered in Millennium Square, where the red-tagged runners assembled, was overwhelming. There were, apparently, approximately 11,000 competitors – just 2,000 less than took part in Edinburgh.

After a quick toilet break, I hurriedly made my way to the pen exit. I had already missed leaving when the runners in the sub-60 minute category had been told to leave the pens, so I had to weave through the long line of competitors in the “walkers” category, trying to get as far ahead as I possibly could. The column of people eventually ground to a halt outside the City Hall, where everyone waited for about ten minutes – though as usual before a race, it felt longer.

Around the corner from where I was standing, there was the sound of various horns, which was followed by a Mexican wave and some cheering – all of this indicated the start of the race. So everyone shuffled forward onto the Headrow. As I passed the start line, I started my stopwatch and began running. This pace was promptly interrupted by heavy people traffic who were passing through a narrow section of the Headrow. After that, the rest of the Headrow was downhill and I slipped into a kind of rhythm.

What first drew my attention was how many people there were and how crowded the street was. There were runners spilling out all over the road, some even running on the pavement, dodging spectators or running behind them. The first corner led us onto Vicar lane, then onto Kirkgate and New Market Street, passing some familiar Leeds locations. From there the course turned back up towards City Hall, onto Great George Street and then Wade Lane, leading us out of the city centre.

There was a steady climb up Wade Lane, so I took it easy until it flattened on the bridge that crosses the Inner Ring Road. After that it descended quite rapidly. I took the opportunity to make some easy progress by galloping down the hill with huge strides, overtaking several hundred people. As I was approaching the turn onto Oatland Road, the wail of ambulance sirens could be heard. At first I didn’t think that an ambulance would attempt to make it ways down a route clogged with thousands of runners, but when I looked behind myself, there it was threading itself through. Just as I was turning the corner onto Meanwood Road, I saw the ambulance stop at the top of Oatland Road.

From this point on until the race entered the city centre again in about 5km, the route followed Meanwood Road.