I’M proud to say that I did the Keswick to Barrow walk on Saturday – and I was well and truly shattered at the end of it.

Believe me, it’s hard work driving one of the team support cars. Getting up at the crack of 9am to be at the Coniston checkpoint in time to dole out snacks and water to the Go For Jo team of K2B walkers took its toll on me good and proper – normally on a Saturday, I don’t surface before 11. It was a bit of a killer, I can tell you.

Then there was all that standing around chatting and drinking capuccino while waiting for our team members to come through. Honestly, the walkers had it easy – a nice leisurely stroll through the Lakes, with someone dishing out crisps, sweets, bananas and drinks along the way. How hard can it be? They’d want to try getting parked near Coniston sports club and then having to lug Evening Mail carrier bags full of snacks for a good, oh, 50 yards or more.

Luckily for the support teams, there are people-watching opportunities galore to take their minds off their hard day’s slog. Whiling the time away at Coniston waiting for more of the Go For Jo team to come through, I fell into eavesdropping on a nearby group who were supporting a team of walkers from the North East. They’d driven for two hours to get to Keswick for the start of the walk and all of them, walkers and support team alike, had a very long day ahead. When their walkers arrived at the checkpoint, the supporters were ready, armed with painkillers, plasters and – to my amazement-slash-revulsion – copious amounts of pease pudding sandwiches, which I take to be some sort of bizarre Geordie delicacy. Whatever was in them (crushed paracetamol, perhaps?), they were going down a storm.

Our own supplies were of the more traditional – and infinitely more appealing – variety, and I had to exercise stupendous self restraint to stop myself tucking in to our walkers’ crisps (indeed, our walkers’ Walkers crisps) during the day.

Leaving Coniston, next I had the notorious Red Lion challenge to tackle at Lowick. Many’s the K2B-er whose dreams of glory are shattered by stopping for a pint at this pub, only to find themselves too pie-eyed to continue to Barrow. But I steeled myself, averted my eyes, resisted temptation – and drove straight past to the next checkpoint at Marton. I think the phrase is “true grit”. I was very proud of myself, as you can imagine.

One thing that struck me was how seriously the participants take it all. While the London marathon attracts hundreds, maybe thousands, of entrants doing it in daft outfits, the K2B-ers aren’t nearly so flippant. Over the entire day I saw just one Superman, a chipmunk (or possibly squirrel) and a pair of heroically bonkers blokes in a pantomime camel outfit. They looked quite chipper at Coniston, but by the time they reached the first aid tent at Marton... suffice it say, if they’d strayed too close to the nearby zoo their number may well have been up.

On the whole, though, the fancy dress costumes were disappointingly few and far between. Really, you’d think more of the participants would make the effort to dress up as deep sea divers or telephone boxes. A few more walkers struggling along in unwieldy, wacky costumes would do wonders for the morale of the support teams. I for one was finding it hard going by 6pm – it was quite chilly standing at Marton and I kept having to go and sit in the car and eat a banana to keep my energy levels up. I could have done with the sight of a limping, bedraggled Darth Vadar to spur me on.

I’m no quitter, however; I dug deep, kept on going and I’m delighted to report that I made it home just before 7pm; and was flat out on the sofa shortly after that. What a day! What an achievement!

I trust all the participants appreciated the momentous effort and sacrifices made by their blister-dodging, banana dispensing support teams. It was certainly no walk in the park, that’s for sure. I assume my medal’s in the post.