It's Wednesday, the 3rd of May, 2017.

I'm Martin Yelling, he's Tom Williams,

and this is episode 382 of Marathon Talk. Although I did watch it on the telly at home, whilst I made final preparations for my wife's funeral

service the following day.

Listeners to the show may only have known Ruth for her famously dry sandwiches.

The supportive text, she sent me towards the end of the Bullock-Smith Ultra,

or more recently the fundraising queer marathon talk hosted last December,

as she battled a particularly bleak form of cancer.

But, and I appreciate I'm biased, there was so much more to this amazing, proper lovely woman.

I first met my wife Ruth at an aerobics class. I say met. In reality, I admired from the back of the class.

The one who looked a bit like Madonna, I told my friend friend Allison when it was still a compliment.

It wasn't long before we got into the groove and two children later were in New York when I was

running the first post-9-11 marathon and I tempted her into giving the

pre-race international friendship run ago. Red-faced she puffed and panted around the

4-kilometer course frustrated that her gym-based fitness didn't translate

to running. Truth is, she didn't really care for the sport, laughing in my face

when I kidding myself out in a purple vest and lime green shorts to train

for my first marathon in Manchester a few months after our wedding in 1996.

She had the point to be fair.

She didn't support me at the race or at subsequent events. So when

she appeared by surprise shouting her heart out amidst the crowds lining First Avenue, 17 miles

into the New York City marathon, I sensed she turned a corner.

...