Left a good job in the city

I have been doing a fair bit of running recently, spurred by the milestone birthday that I’ve just passed, and trying to get fit. The problem is that I have also been concurrently celebrating that birthday in the usual fashion. I am now happily fit, fat and forty. Onwards and upwards, the next challenge is a marathon. Here in South Africa, marathons are a bit commonplace, with ultra marathons a little more impressive, but someone of my size and age has to start somewhere. I am now entered for the London Marathon – the Virgin London Marathon – which is an appropriate brand, since I am a marathon virgin. This will be my first, and maybe even last attempt at 42km, so I want to make it worthwhile, and to give myself an added incentive. That’s where you come in, because you are going to sponsor me. Yes you are.

I am running in aid of the Red Cross. They are the people you see clearing up the mess, picking up the pieces, and reaching out to those in need. You’ve heard of them because they have been around for ever, and they are everywhere, but that’s only because people like you support them. The majority of their income is voluntarily given. You have to exercise your fingers, click here, and make your donation. Whether it’s the price of a round of drinks, dinner, or the restaurant, it’s a help. Do it now, please – if I don’t make my target they’ll make me run back to the start again.

I've set up a sponsorhip page on the Virgin Money Giving site. My target is to raise 1800 quid, so please help if you can. Virgin are sponsoring the marathon, and their site allows you to claim Gift Aid if you are a UK taxpayer, i.e. the government has to give back the tax on your donation. Virgin don't take any fee, so everything you give and more goes to the right place.

I'm going to need all the motivation I can get, so if you thnk I should be breaking four hours, say, then feel free to incentivise me with an additional performance pledge.

Go now to sponsor me. Please!

Holy crap! The Red Cross just called to tell me that they have accepted me to be one of their runners in the London Marathon in April. I'm chuffed to bits, and terrified all at once. Sponsorship details will be going up here soon - so start saving. I can't believe how fast it's all happened - I only sent them an application a few days ago.

Now all I have to do is train...

Number one son is too young, even at the advanced age of nine and a half, to have been exposed to all the cynicism of the world, or to have heard all the adages of the ages. I do my bit on the grumpy old cynic front, but some things you have to learn for yourself. He's been trying to teach the dog to fetch. He started by throwing bits of food. The next step was to put the food into an old tennis ball with a slit in it so she'll chase it. The tricky part seems to be persuading her to bring the ball back rather than just attempting to shred it. He perseveres, and has even been googling the topic. Kids today, huh?

It's only a cliche because it's true: you can't teach an old dog new tricks.

In other news: one of the goldfish has died. It may have something to do with the hug that number two son gave it when we got it home. Tough love. There was no funeral this time - the fish is shortly to be landfill. It seems that the kids don't get attached to the fish either.

Good morning to anyone who has come here from Jonny B's place. Sorry it's a bit messy - haven't been around much lately. I hope you enjoy my growing police car collection.

If you haven't come from Jonny's, then what are you waiting for?