The medal says I ran a long way.

The internet wasn’t going to help.

I was two-thirds of the way through my first marathon, and it was becoming difficult. Leg cramps were increasing in their severity and it was unlike anything I’d encountered at any stage during the previous 18 months of training (or during any physical activity I’d ever done, for that matter).

So the choice was pretty simple: keep running, or stop.

I couldn’t ask the Twitterverse; there was no app to download, no Googling to be done. In an age where everyone’s seemingly connected to everyone and everything else all the time, I was on my own.

No-one could run the remainder of the marathon for me; the cramps weren’t going to go away.

It was keep running, or stop.

So I kept running. Very slowly. And eventually I finished.

All of this is not meant to make me sound like some sort of hero, or legend, or anything like that. In terms of running, I was far from that.

But, pleasingly, at a very basic level, when my brain was faced with a fight or flight-type battle against my body, it chose to fight.

I kept running. I didn’t stop.