Passing Shots

TODAY will forever be known as pain Friday!

It began with what was meant to be a gentle seven-and-a-half mile early morning run along the Solent on a beautiful sunny start to the day.

Ian the postie, who has become a regular running partner has decided that this time next year he and I will have tapered perfectly for the London Marathon. Based on my form this morning, I ran through the muddy clifftops and across rain-soaked field with weights seemingly in my shoes thinking 26 miles was merely a pipedream.

"This is as bad as it gets," I shouted to Ian, whose feet danced along the surface, running effortlessly off his toes; the soles of my shoes were weighted firmly back, my legs ached and my breathing laboured heavily.

We got round, though. It was miles in the bank, I stuck to the task, and once we increase the mileage I'm sure the aerobic fitness will return as the runs become a little more enjoyable. I'd certainly like a fourth tilt at the London Marathon, and will be watching enviously this Sunday at those lucky enough to take part in this year's carnival around the capital. It is like nothing else, a true spiritual experience.

With the wedding little more than a week away, my fiancee Alison had asked one favour before the nuptials. Would I get my back waxed?! The things we do for love!! I had my legs waxed as part of a charity fund-raiser five years ago, and didn't feel a thing. Today, it was 20 minutes of pure pain at the beauty salon where I'd chosen for this masochistic marriage appetiser.

The lady at the salon was nice enough as she poured on this hot liquid onto my back, and then preceded to rip the hairs of my back. Never mind it smarting, this absolutely hit the pain threshold roof. I didn't want to show any pain,  or make any wimpering noise - the humiliation would have been too much. Instead, as part of distraction therapy, we chatted about the lady's own wedding plans - she's getting married in Lapland next February in an ice palace, taken there by a carriage drawn by reindeer. I bet her fiance isn't have his hairs ripped off his back.

Anyway, I survived the ordeal and Alison is delighted. But I feel like a plucked chicken as my back feels all sticky and wet. I have no idea why women put themselves through the ordeal waxing. I was definitely not feeling my feminine side lying on the couch of the beauty salon, stripped to my shorts while seeing the lady put these waxing strips filled with thick, black hair into the bin. I should have kept the waxing strips and presented them to Alison as a wedding present.

And so to complete the day, there could have been nothing better than a trip to the dentist for some root canal treatment, which took over an hour, didn't hurt physically, but financially, crickey O'Reilly! That's me on salad for the next month.

It's all systems go, though, for the wedding. I'm envious of my friend Emma who this week jetted off with her fiance Simon to get married in Jamaica - just the two of them. Ours is very much a family affair, but while the temptation to head off to get married on a sun-kissed beach is enormously tempting, there can be nothing better than sharing the day with family and friends, some of whom you haven't seen for quite a time.

At least come our wedding next week, I'll be a little bit fitter, I'll have my teeth fixed and whitened, and a hairless back! Sorted!!