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what about food and drink?

      ‘I try and get some pasta the night before a race. I will sometimes have breakfast to be sociable but more often than not, it’s a “food bar” and a cup of tea. I really believe in gels [these are similar to sports drinks, but can be taken without water on the run to boost energy and promote recovery]. For a road marathon I would usually take one before and five during the race. It doesn’t make me run faster, but I don’t slow as much in the second half.’

      As for any favourite clothing, Roger says he likes to be warm and recommends a zip-fronted, long-sleeved top for the season fringes. Of course when racing, he takes great pride in wearing his 100 Club top.

      So how do others react once they know how many marathons he’s run?

      ‘One hundred is not too bad but when you say 635, they are somewhat surprised.’

      As in I am ‘somewhat surprised’ to find that I’m feeling slightly nauseous after a double helping of Death by Chocolate with Cornish clotted cream, perhaps?

      So, does he think he’s obsessed with running marathons?

      ‘I guess I am,’ he answers without preamble, ‘but it’s just as much about ticking boxes as well. A box can be a different state or country or whatever, or maybe just somewhere you want to visit, and the marathon is the excuse. For example, when we completed the six marathons in six days in Northern Ireland, we were taken to see the Giants Causeway afterwards.’

      Whether or not he’s obsessed with running marathons, one thing is clear. With his passion for the sport and the generous giving of his time, knowledge and experience to others (as a UK Athletics qualified coach Roger can be found most Tuesdays at his local athletic club, Fairlands Valley Spartans, coaching adult road runners), not only is he ideally suited to the role of chairman, he also epitomises what the 100 Marathon Club is all about.

      Certainly, I can’t help but notice that the entire interview has been peppered not only with statistical references but references to other members of the 100 Club, almost as much as to himself.

      As we approach the end, I ask if there are any other comments he wishes to make.

      ‘Just one,’ he tells me, brown eyes twinkling behind his spectacles, the corners of his mouth twitching.

      ‘Go ahead,’ I encourage, pen poised for still more pearls of wisdom.

      ‘That was harder than running a marathon!’ he concedes and explodes with mirth.

      Coming from a man who likes nothing better than fresh challenges, I shall take it as a compliment.

      SUMMER SHORTS

      As Roger mentioned, it’s hard to combine running multiple marathons with fast times. Indeed, there’s a well-known adage in the running world that says if you want to run fast, train fast. However, if you run too fast you may not find time to discover the compensations of running more slowly, such as making new friends along the way. ‘Personal Bests’ come and go; friends may stay forever.

      They say if you want something doing, ask a busy man. For best results, promise to buy him lots of beer!

       MILE 4

       BUTTERFLIES AND BASHFULNESS

      Despite having a tendency towards shyness, Brian Mills has run almost 800 marathons and travelled all over the world.

      BRIAN MILLS

      Born: 1955

      791 marathons:

      • 1st marathon: 1989 – London

      • 100th marathon: 1993 – Dublin (trail)/New York (road)

      Records:

      • Most Marathons Run by Anyone in the UK.

      Fifty-six-year-old carpenter Brian Mills is something of a legend in the running world – not just for completing the greatest number of marathons ever run by a Brit (791 and counting), but also for having a butterfly tattooed on his body for every marathon he has ever run! At least that’s the rumour.

      I first met Brian at a hotel in Mallorca – I was helping out on a Running Crazy trip and he was there with the 100 Marathon Club. At that point I hadn’t been asked to write this book and had no idea who Brian was. We had one brief conversation at breakfast the day after the race when we both reached for the orange juice at the same time.

      ‘Go on,’ said Brian politely, indicating I should help myself to the juice first.

      ‘Thank you,’ said I, trying to ignore the sight of a brightly-painted butterfly crawling out from beneath the collar of his 100 Marathon Club sweatshirt.

      ‘Did you have a good run yesterday?’ I enquired, the giveaway sweatshirt lending confidence to my line of questioning.

      ‘Not really,’ he replied, with a nervous smile.

      ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I said, forcing my eyes away from the colourful creature adorning his neck to look him in the face and offer some sympathy.

      But Brian had already turned and was walking away from me, which took me by surprise because most runners when asked how their race went are only too happy to regale you with all the details (and I do mean all) – the highs, the lows, the aches, the pains… They don’t care who you are; if you have asked the question, they will give you a mile-by-mile account so that in the end you feel as if you have run the whole thing with them.

      Not Brian. Unbeknown to me back then was the fact that behind the longish, greying, wispy hair and tattoos, which might suggest a certain kind of character, lies an entirely different type of person, a quiet, retiring man. So much so that when people who knew him heard I was planning on interviewing him, they wondered how I’d get on with someone so reluctant to talk about his achievements. And if I’m honest, so did I.

      Passion, however, is a remarkable thing: it can bring out the shyest of people, and so it proved with the quiet and diffident Brian. Almost as soon as we got chatting, he got into his stride, talking quickly, almost gabbling. His words came tumbling out so fast, they almost fell over one another, exuding passion and enthusiasm and beating shyness hands down. Soon it was evident that his passion is not just restricted to running itself but extends to those he has met as a result of the sport. That friendship and camaraderie has meant a lot to a man who lives alone in a town only a short distance from where he was born and bred.

      So, how and when did it all begin?

      Well, Brian did cross-country at school, as well as the 1500 metres. He also threw the discus (because no one else would do it), but it wasn’t this that led him to start running marathons. After finishing school, he took up squash but it wasn’t this that led him to start running marathons either: it was watching the London Marathon on television, knowing other people who had done it and deciding he wanted to do it, too.

      And so he did, in 1989, aged 33.

      ‘It was okay,’ he says, before expanding quietly, ‘I didn’t intend doing any more although I had enjoyed it, but somehow I ended up doing four that first year.’ He still sounds slightly surprised by this, almost as though he somehow ran them by accident.

      ‘And then the numbers increased as the years went by,’ he goes on, unprompted, sounding more as if he’s referring to his age and birthdays rather than marathons run.

      ‘Then I met some people from the 100 Marathon Club and decided to go for the 100. I think I did my 100th in Dublin, but I can’t remember now for sure.’

      He can’t remember? I’m certain if I ran 100 marathons, each and every one of them, but most

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