This programme contains some strong language.
Eddie Izzard is an actor, comedian and also happens to be a transvestite.
He's definitely not an athlete.
But on 27th July 2009, at 47 years of age, Eddie decided to go for a run - a very long run.
His aim - to cover over 1,000 brutal miles around the United Kingdom, an incredible Sport Relief challenge.
I'm just some bozo who's saying, "I'm going to do this," and started running a couple of weeks ago.
I've run before, but mainly for buses.
He will run through England, Wales, Northern Ireland and Scotland -
a marathon a day, six days a week, for eight weeks.
Trailed by his own ice-cream van, he'll encourage the nation to donate and run with him.
I'm interested in people. It's hopefully an adventure that can be fun.
But with little training, experience or preparation, this truly is a lunatic adventure.
If you carry on, you might not make it to the last day.
One man's mad struggle to run some of Britain's toughest terrain...
It's just me and my body, and "can I make it?".
..and attempt something truly extraordinary.
Eddie Izzard is at the Olympic Medical Institute
to be assessed by a team of experts before he begins his run.
First he meets Dr Mike Loosemore, a leading sports consultant.
Have a seat. Just tell me what you're going to do on this endurance event that you're planning.
I'm planning to run from...
run round the UK.
OK, and how many miles is that? That's just about 1,068.
That's a huge undertaking, isn't it?
What's your running history?
Well, when I was a kid, I ran about a bit in the playground.
I kind of think I should run. Yes.
I think I'm designed for running.
Sorry to go back, but as far as running is concerned, how much
actual running and training have you done up until this point?
I've done about two weeks' training. I did...
You're telling me you're not an habitual runner? No, no. No!
So we haven't got 20 years of running experience up to this point?
No, no. OK. And how long have you got before you do the run?
Going in four weeks on Monday.
Is that right?
For weeks on Monday, yeah.
LAUGHTER
Is this wrong?
Am I doing things wrong? You see...
I thought we had like nine months.
No, I don't want to do the nine months thing.
The Institute's director, ex-Olympian Professor Greg Whyte,
usually trains Britain's greatest athletes.
But in Eddie, he's got a 47-year-old unconditioned comedian.
It was an interesting one when I first spoke to him,
because I've had a lot of these types of events,
and my attitude is very much that anything is possible.
But there are a number of prerequisites for us.
OK, we're just going up a little in speed again.
But when he told me that he wasn't a seasoned runner, had very little running experience,
it becomes ludicrous, because what we have is only five-and-a-half weeks' preparation.
Greg tests Eddie on a running machine to discover how long he can run for.
Here we go, here we go.
He'll need to have superhuman stamina to rise to the challenge for Sport Relief, running 43 marathons,
at least 30 miles a day, around the United Kingdom.
Running is healthy, it's very primal, it's what we came from.
And if it can help raise money for people who are still having a tough time,
even in this time of recession if people give a small amount of money,
we can help people in Africa, that still is the continent that has the toughest time,
then that will be a great thing. Really nice, really nice.
His route will take him from London to Cardiff, then detour to visit
his childhood home where his mum spent her last days.
Past Liverpool to Scotland, continue over to Belfast,
across Northern Ireland and finally head south from Glasgow backed down to London.
This is a personal and punishing journey where he will visit
the places from his past that made him the comedian we know today.
This is an incredibly difficult challenge, even for a seasoned endurance runner. Eddie isn't that.
Keep the focus on it, let the treadmill do the work.
Somebody told me I should get out more.
So, here I'm doing the ultimate getting out more!
Driving it, driving it...
Excellent, excellent, good lad, well done.
Very nice indeed.
The results of the day's assessments are not good.
Although Eddie scored well on his fitness run that shows he has the
stamina of an average runner, his body is in poor shape, with limited balance and flexibility.
He also has a multitude of injuries and flat feet.
He's just not designed for constant running.
Four weeks later, Eddie's in central London for a practice run and his first timed marathon.
But he's had little time to train, and it's just three days until his challenge begins.
So what's happening today, Greg? Why are we here?
A test run. Basically, what we're doing is testing the systems, as it were.
So this is as much about Eddie as it is about the logistics.
Up until now, he's been running on his own, but today he's being followed by his support team.
He'll be using this as a test day and practice run.
There's us, you guys following us, and that's kind of it.
In his support team is a sports therapist and tour manager,
and a small film crew in a motorised rickshaw driven by Ted.
BELL RINGS And there's the option of... HORN TOOTS
Oh! I love that.
Bye-bye!
Eddie sets off from Trafalgar Square...
Wow, look at this!
Mimicking the conditions and route of the first run,
carrying a flag of the country that he runs through.
His aim is to cover 30 miles a day -
however, it's not long before Eddie encounters a problem.
You got wedged in, there. I'm trying to work out how to get
myself up and running, but I'm worried about you guys!
The stop seems to have broken his concentration.
What's he doing now? He just stops all the time, doesn't he? He does.
He's easily distracted, breaking regularly to enjoy the London scenery.
Are you guys MI6? Because if you were MI6, no-one would know.
Because you look perfect, having a coffee...
At this rate, it'll take him all day.
An experienced runner should complete a marathon in four hours,
so Greg runs with him to stop him drifting.
One of the critical things is actually that he keeps his speed up, keeps his speed constant.
What he doesn't want to be doing is going fast, going slow, going fast...
That's incredibly damaging for him.
And just nine miles from Trafalgar Square, Eddie's stop-start
strategy has backfired - a number of old injuries have flared up.
Have a little stretch, have a walk, change the pace...
This is it, this is what it really is.
I'm 47 and...
I haven't done this really before.
So I'm asking quite a lot of my body, but I'd just like it to work, properly.
These injuries mean Eddie is going to struggle just to complete today's marathon.
To do eight of them to get to his mum's old house seems unlikely.
43 seems utterly impossible.
For the first time he's really sort of opened up, and I think what he's expressing is his fear of failure.
Up to this point, Eddie's really been in the position where
the reality of what he's about to do hasn't come across to him.
♪ Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside
♪ I do like to be beside the sea Oh, I do like... ♪
This is the reality of a British summer. You think to yourself,
"We're going to run this in the summer, things are going to be fine."
This is the weather he's going to get.
I don't think we should do this. What about we don't do this?
How are you feeling? Yeah, it just feels a bit...
Well, it's OK.
I don't know, I can't think. I should say what I'm thinking -
I'm cold, I'm wet and I hurt, is what I really feel.
But I've just got to keep going and avoid them.
It gets a bit dangerous.
The challenge hasn't even begun, and Eddie's falling apart.
Greg is concerned and decides to shorten today's practice run from 30 to 26.2 miles - a marathon.
Here he comes now, so we're just under eight hours in, and he's coming in for the marathon.
It's unattainable. You can't do that,
you can't be on your feet for eight hours plus another five miles,
so 10 hours a day, every day for seven weeks.
You can't do it.
26.5 miles.
There's a marathon just back there.
You did it.
This is the point where people go, "ooh", and they get covered in
tinfoil and they get put in a Kit Kat bar. They get basted, yeah.
They become Kit Kats. Actually, today it's kind of the most wobbly I've been in the whole build-up.
I really don't know what's going to happen.
6am - the start of Eddie's incredible journey.
As the team prepare their equipment, Eddie sends a message to just under 1 million fans on Twitter,
publicising his mission for the first time.
This is what I wrote - "Today I will try to run for charity
"around the whole of the UK - London, Cardiff, Belfast, London. I leave now."
The challenge is now a reality as it's out in the public domain.
Yeah, my body wants to...
..evacuate its bowels a lot.
Eddie wants the start to be low key. A small support team from Sport Relief are waiting.
They're all relying on him to run as far as he can to raise money for the charity.
He's incredibly nervous.
And I think, Friday, with the marathon, and now today, the anxiety is really starting to build up.
I just want to start, really.
And then we've got a T-shirt thing, and then there's the publicity of saying what's happening.
Are you running in that? I'm not wild about this look.
It's just like a gig - if you think about it too much, you'll screw it up.
So I want to start. Can I start?
Here we go, kids. See you in 10 weeks! CHEERING
Oh, f...!
In five-and-a-half weeks, I think we've managed to get him to the best physical shape that we can,
but it is only five-and-a-half weeks
with a transvestite comedian who's never had any running experience, so...
Once I start, I just have to finish.
There's a worry in there, but it's an adventure.
To give Eddie a fighting chance, he has received pain-killing
injections for his old injuries and orthopaedic trainer inner-soles to help his flat feet.
But only time will tell if his body can stand up to the gruelling pace of daily marathons.
This leg's talking to me a bit,
but you just have to ignore things.
12 miles already this morning. First morning out.
The big difference between today and Friday is he's not messing about.
He's focused on what he's doing. He's not stopping.
People will look at this and think this is an impossible challenge. They won't be far from the truth.
The fact is that much of what these ultra-endurance events come down to is attitude.
The desire to complete. And Eddie has that desire.
He really wants to complete this.
I am testing what I can do, cos there are some people
who are brilliant sportsmen and they got up and were brilliant at six.
I was never brilliant. I was never brilliant at almost anything.
At everything, I've just slaved away and worked at and worked at.
Eddie will have scheduled stops throughout his journey.
And after five hours, he breaks in Staines.
This gives Jo, Eddie's sports therapist,
a chance to assess his body.
Oh, God. How are the muscles? It's hurting.
On these breaks, he'll be taking on some more fluids and food,
if he needs it.
I'll be checking anything that he's currently got wrong with him.
If it's getting worse or if it's new things developing.
It's the arch in there that's... Ouch!
Eddie is having ankle trouble and decides to change his shoes.
Sometimes a change is as good as a rest.
I learnt this in high heels, actually. If you swap high heels - this is more of a girl thing
or a transvestite thing - you can actually...
After a night in heels, it actually... Because they press on different parts of the feet.
Greg, the most qualified of the support group, has to go,
leaving the team to cope with the rest of the challenge.
Obviously, the worry is as soon as I depart, Eddie starts to wander and meander as he's been doing.
Certainly what I have spoken to the team about is trying to maintain this pace, maintain his focus.
That's the one thing they've really got to concentrate on is keeping him on track.
What are you doing? Just stopping for a sec?
I just want to get a Calypo, because...
It's very good.
Eddie seems to have forgotten he's got more than 1,000 miles to go.
Ignoring Greg's advice, he has stopped to do a little bit
of sightseeing at Virginia Water, a large lake.
You've got people picnicking.
It's nice. It's quiet and you've got water lapping. And is that a moorhen?
Two.
No, that's a duck. They're all ducks to me.
Greg will say, keep the place up. After a while, it's going to drive me mad.
That may be true, but maybe if I take my time, I feel like I'm on holiday. Oh, look, many ducks now.
No, we haven't. Sorry, I just wandered... I am doing a run for Comic Relief.
Normally, you have to have permission to do any filming.
Right. Got you. I was buying a Calypo and I'd just run 24 miles from Trafalgar Square.
So, sorry, we'll go away. Is that OK?
Eddie has taken his time in the park,
confident enough to ignore the professionals and run at his own pace.
But he's still got six miles to go before he completes his first marathon.
He has no fear, because he's a transvestite.
When he walked in America in six-inch heels and got
on the subway, you kind of lose the fear factor.
He is always wanting to push himself, I think, to find that fear.
And here he is.
At last, Eddie has finished his first 30 miles. Further than he has ever run before.
Now, champagne!
He's just ran 30 miles. And, actually, he looks like he's just gone to the supermarket and back.
Down in one!
Cheers, Eddie.
Or two, maybe. Eddie celebrates his first of 43 marathons.
But by stopping, it's taken him 10 hours to finish and less time to recover before tomorrow.
It's 7am, and the film crew are at the finish of last night's marathon.
But Eddie's late.
How are you all feeling? Tired.
It is just getting into a routine, really.
Once you get into the rhythm of it, hopefully it will become easier.
We're an hour late, because we had to discuss things at breakfast
about publicity and stuff, so...
I can't do it. I can't...
This whole thing about getting up and getting out of here. Do you think he is a bit stressed?
Yes, he'll be fine when he starts to run. But he's a little stressed.
With no routine in place, it's not a great way to prepare, and he's still
got to stretch and grease up his body to prevent friction.
Chafes?
As I was at shoving it down in my underpants,
you have to guess, answers on a postcard, to Blue Peter,
what chafes. It's actually a programme called What Chafes?
It's mainly your testicles and your penis. Is that what you wanted?
I'll check at eight miles. I'm going to do Chafe Watch.
Even if Eddie can't complete all the marathons he plans to run, he is determined
to get to his old home in Wales where he lived with his late mother.
What are you expecting on this route today?
I really don't know what's going to happen.
Nobody knows - this is the interesting thing.
Although the route is planned in advance, Eddie prefers to be spontaneous.
Just two miles into his run, marking the route are old milestones
which have been preserved for hundreds of years.
I've been taking pictures of mile markers. If you're not running, you won't see them.
Or walking. A lot of them are still there, so I am putting them out on Twitter so people can see them...
miles away in Calcutta.
Despite all the experts' advice to finish quickly, Eddie is still running his way and taking his time.
When he does decide to run, he prefers to chat to the film crew on the rickshaw.
It's weird, because I've have been doing these conversations.
It's like driving and having a conversation. I'm not even thinking about running.
I can do anything. Which I think it is the trick.
Because then you go, "Oh, shit, we've done another eight miles."
He uses anything he can to distract himself from the pain of running.
When his feet ache, he improvises, knocking on a stranger's door.
Do you know what this is?
It's some kind of blanket weed. It's nice to run your feet through it.
You take care. Thanks, Richard.
In the busy town of Basingstoke, he helps himself to lunch by the roadside.
Blackberries, which takes me back to being four years old.
Do you want one?
Oh, they're good.
Later, Eddie's ice-cream van arrives, motivating him more.
Are you getting a 99? Because you're the first customer, ever.
It will follow him around the UK giving out free ice creams
and getting people to donate to Sport Relief.
For eight hours, Eddie's tactics seem to have worked.
But now he's really starting to feel the strain.
The legs.
Nothing's pulled, but they're tired.
But he pushes himself through the pain barrier to run 30 miles...
This is all great.
..completing an extraordinary two marathons in two days.
Two for two.
Soon, sleep.
My feet hurt, and I'm not sure I...
We're late. How is your mind?
I'm trying to get a system going, and there's no system.
I don't want to get up in the morning - it's going to get worse and worse.
Usually, experts advise athletes not to run two marathons in a row,
as it takes over three weeks for the body to recover.
But Eddie is about to run three in a row and he's had little recovery time.
You all right, Eddie? Are you stiff?
Er, no. It all hurts.
I'm not going to bed early enough, cos we just don't finish early enough.
Getting about four and a half... five hours' sleep.
We keep going and we keep going, and you don't stop and you don't eat.
Then you do stop, and you get up and you do it all again.
Rain is hell. It's my biggest nightmare.
I was attacked by rain when I was a child. I'm not feeling dreary.
If I get to dreary, I'm done for.
I've got to keep this happy.
But very few other people around.
With the endless rain obscuring the scenery, there's nothing to distract him from the pain.
Every step becomes a mental struggle.
Yeah...I'm tired.
But if I think that I'm tired, then I'm very tired.
This endless road. I think the Romans built this one - it goes on for ever.
This is long.
It's gone...11 hours.
Yesterday was about 11 hours of running and getting tired
and changing clothes.
So it would be nice to sit and relax and have a couple of days off and for things to heal on my body.
But I've just got to keep going.
After yesterday's lonely ordeal, Eddie decides
to invite 72-year-old Bruce Tulloh to inspire him.
Bruce spent 64 days running across America in 1969.
Most people do things to prove something to themselves, and I suppose that's what it is.
When I talk to Eddie, I'll find out what he's trying to prove.
A lot...
of famous people, a lot of people who have achieved a lot, have some
trauma in their backgrounds or a broken home life or something which drives them to want to have success.
Do you come into that category? Yes, my mother died when I was six, so it's all about that.
I think it's about that loss of love,
and my kind of desperation for it.
You turn to an audience as a substitute.
Eddie's mum, Dorothy, died in 1968 of cancer when he was just six years old.
He's determined to run to the house they shared together in South Wales on his way round the UK.
But it's still 130 miles away.
I had the same thing. In fact, I had virtually no father.
He went off to war when I was very small. Got divorced after the war.
Something inside me said, "Well, I'm going to show you. I'm going to do something."
And the only thing I could do well was running.
Soon, Bruce leaves Eddie to run alone.
His pace drops dramatically, taking hours to reach the town of Devizes. I haven't seen anyone for ages.
Everyone had disappeared, and I'd been running and trudging and having a bad time of it for about 10 miles.
I was really kind of pissed off when I got to Devizes.
Come along! YOU'VE got to keep running!
Where you going? I'm going to Cardiff, then up to Belfast.
Cardiff? What's wrong with you?
What? Why would you run that far? It's good to run. It's for charity.
What?! Cardiff - that's a long way to run.
Not just Cardiff, then all the way up through England
to Belfast, then across to Glasgow, Edinburgh, and back down to London.
Let me shake your hand, cos I think there's something wrong with you.
Thank you! I think you're probably right. You go and have some fun.
VAN MUSIC PLAYS "GREENSLEEVES"
Eddie's ice-cream van is already in Devizes, handing out free ice cream and raising money.
Do you know what I've done? Run from Trafalgar Square to here.
It's tough. But this is great - thank you for building this town very quickly.
Ice-cream van is getting a ticket. I've got to go and stop this. Are we OK?
Is it all right? Yes, yes. I was just commenting this is the best ice-cream van I've ever seen.
I should actually serve it. Does anyone want an ice-cream? I'll make an ice-cream for someone.
Eddie's getting carried away with the crowd and he's lost all his discipline and focus.
Who's having ice cream?
He spends an hour serving ice cream and drinking beer.
Thank you very much.
Does anyone know why Devizes is called Devizes? It's Latin. Ad devisas -
at the boundaries. I've got to keep going, I'm behind, aren't I? On time.
Yes. I normally should finish at this time and I'm only halfway round.
Jo finally manages to pull him away from the crowd.
She's keen to check his body and get him running.
You all right? Eddie's got blisters on his feet -
an athlete's worst nightmare.
He's just got a couple of blisters now and he's got some pain on the arch of his foot.
So I'm just putting a bit of strapping around it here, to give him a bit of added support.
Without constant medical attention, his feet could become infected.
Downing another beer, Eddie eventually decides
to get on with the challenge, but it's already 5pm, and he's still got another 13 miles to go.
He's chosen a shorter route to the finish, but he has no idea what the running conditions will be like.
The canal! Let's go down the canal.
Now we're going off-road.
The director would like me to inform the audience, that as we go
along the canal here from Devizes, past wonderful people relaxing,
as we go all the way to Bath,
that it could be a bit bumpy.
Because it's bumpy.
This is a classic towpath from the industrial... Fuckin' hell!
The path is littered with potholes and sharp stones, making the uneven surface hard to run on.
This is a bloody nightmare!
Apparently, there's a ton of locks along this way.
A ton of locks. Fuck's sake!
'I had pain in the outside toe, as it was really smashing into me'
and I had another 10 or 12 miles to go and I just...
I thought, "No, that's too far, that's too far to go at this point."
The puddles have soaked Eddie's feet, providing ideal conditions for blisters to fester.
Soon, the path becomes too narrow for the rickshaw and support team to follow.
This means he is now running on his own and out of communication for about the next 10 miles.
The only way to record his progress is for Eddie to use his phone to film himself.
I have to get to Bradford-upon-Avon before the sun goes down.
I'm keeping at about four and a half, five miles an hour, and this gravel is killing me.
Left alone and without the motivation of the rickshaw,
he battles to keep going and fights the excruciating pain.
Legs hurt,
feet hurt.
Am I crazy?
At 8pm and barely able to walk, Eddie finishes his fourth marathon.
That was tough. That was very tough.
But he still faces another 39 marathons to run, if he's going to succeed.
Didn't know I was going to make that one.
The canal was beautiful, but it's gravel and broken rocks on the ground, and that's tough.
I'm going to pop your blisters tonight.
We've tried the conservative method, it's not working. We're going to go non-conservative.
My blisters are now going to be done tonight. Wow! That's going to be joy.
Four marathons have almost broken him, and now his legs have seized up on the short drive to the hotel.
Jo begins to treat Eddie's feet, but just removing the protective plasters is proving difficult,
as his skin is extremely tender.
One quick one, OK? Mm-hm.
Ah!
Eddie's blisters are sacs of fluid caused by friction in his trainers
and aggravated by the rocky, loose surface of the canal path.
You can manage them.
They're much easier to manage when you're not doing an ultra-endurance event, like Eddie.
Using a sterile needle, Jo begins to drain the fluid, taking care not to rip the skin.
It might just be that you have to put up with the pain on your toes for a couple more days.
If you can save my feet, then... I'll do my best.
Jo must prevent the blisters from spreading, to stop this becoming a challenge-ending injury.
With so much more money to raise,
the team are having doubts that Eddie will complete the task.
Alfie, the official photographer, decides to take charge.
We had a big discussion last night.
About the fact that, you know,
getting out of the hotel
and getting to the set-off point has been taking too long.
So we've kind of decided that what we're going to do today is get a sort of military operation going.
Operation Alfie begins in earnest, and Eddie manages to get up and go in less than an hour.
One of his earliest starts.
But two hours in, he has to tackle the hilly terrain surrounding the historic spa town of Bath.
I thought Bath was known for the waters, not for the hills.
It's a bloody huge hill to get in.
This is a bloody huge hill going down.
And my fear is that there's another...
bloody huge hill on the other side.
It's painful, because your feet push into the edges and I've got the blisters on the outside toes.
Eddie's biggest battle is in his head.
Every step is mental torture.
Jo can do nothing for the pain, she can only prevent the blisters growing
using surgical spirit and regularly changing the dressings.
He's going to spend a huge amount of time on the road on his own.
Being a competitive athlete, it is fundamentally miserable.
What he needs is support and he needs people around him.
But news of Eddie's mission is growing, and in Bristol he begins to get much-needed encouragement.
We're going over the bridge.
Thank you very much. Charitable person.
Clifton Suspension Bridge.
The support helps Eddie to finish his 5th marathon, 26.2 miles.
Due to the deterioration of his feet, he decides he'll always stop at a marathon,
no longer running his planned 30 miles a day.
This is worse than yesterday.
This one has torn, it's opened itself.
Which is what you want to avoid.
There's some pus in there. Very nice!
I want to see what that looks like when I've popped it, because if it stays like that,
I need to go to the doctor's for some antibiotics.
Eddie's feet are becoming infected.
Jo needs to stop the infection spreading, as it can lead to further medical problems.
My toenails should...
could...should?
No, hopefully not. Could fall off.
So could your nipples as well.
Seriously? Did you not know that?
Yes, you can get jogger's nipple. When you run.
It rubs against your nipple. You genuinely didn't know that, did you? No.
And your dick can drop off, you can get jogger's dick.
I don't know about that. It rubs against you.
And then it's just drops off. And your head can drop off.
This is the Severn Bridge. We get over there and the flags change.
Running over the Severn Bridge to Newport, Wales,
will mark Eddie's 6th marathon.
Six days in a row. He'll have one day off
before continuing to Cardiff and on to the Brecon Beacons,
stopping to visit his old house in Skewen,
where he has his last memories of his mum.
I first went over this bridge in 1967.
42 years later, it's quite a thing.
It's an estuary, it's bigger than a river. It's bloody four miles.
I'm going to feel, where is the middle of this bridge?
Where IS the middle of the bridge? It must be there,
right at the low point of the dingly-danglies. As they call them.
Here we go.
He celebrates running from England into Wales with his own personal flag-changing ceremony.
Eddie has been updating his location on the web,
and a fan has tracked him down in the middle of the bridge.
It's fantastic that you're doing a marathon every day.
I know, it's a bit weird, isn't it? This is the 6th marathon.
It's funny, the people you meet on the Severn Bridge.
Welcome to Wales. Thank you very much.
We've got some home-made Welsh cakes for you because I understand you're really hungry.
I've heard about it from a couple of punters in there. You're a hero.
He's generating a crowd of followers, all inspired by what he's doing.
Guess how many spots they have, Eddie. Seven.
His growing entourage are on hand to give him encouragement
and keep him and his battery-assisted rickshaw moving.
Have you run out of electricity?
Thank God an entire family came along that can help.
This is Swiss Family Robinson, this is, basically.
Eddie drags himself to Newport, South Wales, and another marathon is conquered.
Six marathons,
six days.
I hope the day off can do something to mend me a bit.
At all costs, Eddie wants to finish this.
What our job is to do, is to make that a real possibility.
But, at the same time, we've got the to balance that against Eddie's health.
Eddie's day off will consist of a 15-mile walk
to stop his muscles from seizing up, and a thorough medical check-up.
Door, door, door, door!
Week two. Base camp.
It's like Everest, but if Everest was really flat.
If you took Everest and put it down, so there's none of that up.
And there's the snow, but you run it. Oh, forget it.
And there's traffic. Imagine this traffic on Everest.
To help motivate Eddie through another full week of marathons, a team of athletes join him.
Among them is Kim Smith, a sports specialist on hand to treat any injuries as they happen.
Unfortunately, just 10 minutes into the run, Eddie pulls up.
He's got a problem with his knee.
In Cardiff, his support team get their first chance
to assess the injury.
Wow! Arrgh!
Fingers crossed it's more that, and not ITB.
Why is ITB bad?
It's not(!) Tell me, I need to know. It's a long tendon.
There's not a great blood supply, so it takes a long time to get better.
The IT band is a tendon running down the length of Eddie's leg.
It's become inflamed, affecting the joint in his knee.
But the root of the problem comes from the blisters on his feet.
He's starting to drag his feet because he's so exhausted
and because his feet are hurting him so much.
When you do that, your running style changes,
your running gait changes, and you can start to get
aches and pains in your muscles and other various places.
With the pain increasing, his speed has dropped dramatically.
But Eddie prefers to keep running, risking further aggravation to his injury.
I am worried for him. Eddie seems to not want to walk a day.
And I think if he carries on running like this, he's going to burn himself out.
Come on.
Fuck it!
I thought you were here. I'm aware that Dot is, but you're not here, where are you?
He's desperate to complete the marathon, phoning the support team for updates
on the exact location of the finish line.
Yes?
Sorry, I can't hear you.
Is that the ice-cream van?
Can you see that?
I hope.
Eddie crawls to his 7th marathon.
But the effects of running have taken their toll.
His IT band is worse and his whole leg has now seized up.
This is a very painful procedure.
A lot of people suffer from full-leg bruising after they've had their IT band stripped.
Don't panic, that Eddie is like, crying.
But it's really, really good.
Aaargh!
One more, one more.
EDDIE GROANS
OK, OK. Breathe, breathe, breathe.
One more, one more.
OK, we're done, we're done.
Deep breaths.
When we came down, all of us,
the crew, everybody else, we were all sitting there, going,
"Oh my God, this is going to be horrific."
But then we all got together, had a little chat and said,
whatever happens, this is the day we really need to smile.
Don't matter how wet we get, how bad we feel, how cold we are
or how much we're missing home, we've got to really smile today.
This is...
day something-or-other.
And I've been trying to do 30 miles a day. I can't.
Well, psychologically, I find it really difficult.
No-one is going to join me and run today unless they are mad.
On the positive side,
nothing...really.
Well, I've done seven marathons, that's positive.
Trudging through the rain, the landscape becomes more barren and industrial.
But the sight of the Brecons in the distance
seemed to inspire him and bring back memories of living close by as a kid.
You can see the beginning of the hills behind the houses.
When I was a kid, there were distinctive smells.
Smells can be really evocative.
And...I smelt Port Talbot,
which is coming up soon. I could smell it and I recognised that smell, very industrial.
It just hit me like a wave of memory.
As he gets closer to his old home in Skewen,
it seems to bring back some painful memories.
My memories of being in Wales were not terribly positive.
My mum died when I was here so we didn't have a great time.
But it's not Wales's fault nor the Welsh people's fault, it just happened.
When I was a teenager,
I cycled from Swansea...
No, from Sussex where I lived near Hastings
all the way to Skewen along this road.
Now I'm almost back doing the same on my feet. Why is that then?
Why did I go back?
I don't know. I'd keep going back,
probably to try and...
Er...recapture the time before my mum died.
It was a good time and then it all went...
into a...
A less good time.
Well, a tough time.
Yeah, it makes you very independent.
Makes you very cold and cut-off really.
This is what we want. This is summer.
Yeah. And now I've run home.
Past the infirmary was where my dad worked.
On the way, Eddie visits the site of his dad's old factory.
It used to be there.
What are you searching for?
I don't know. I don't know.
There was a time before and a time after so...
So, I thought my mum was ill and people get ill and get better,
but she was terminally ill and I didn't know about that.
There was a time before that got lost.
After eight marathons in nine days and suffering from blisters and injuries,
he keeps running to the house where he lived with his mum.
Some old family friends have gathered to greet him.
I remember you was a little boy going to school. Oh wow!
And your mother not well.
I'm old, but I can remember everything.
You've got a great memory.
My mum died and I sort locked all the memories in.
You didn't stay long after. I know.
Oh, sorry. My name is Eddie Izzard, I used to live here.
So, er...
This is the garden way we played.
She was never outside, no.
She was in hospital and home and in hospital and home.
She was never out about.
So we got here in October '67 and she died in March '68.
Very, very sad for the little boys especially.
But then she was so ill, I suppose,
they knew she wasn't going to get better.
So it's a nice house now.
Sunshine...
It probably always was a nice house.
The death of my mother did make a yearning for something and that has
driven me down the way and a lot of people in life have a similar thing.
This drive because of something that wasn't there or disappeared from their family life.
Maybe I'm just a big kid who's still determined to try and do these adventures that I invent in my head.
Reaching Skewen is a personal milestone.
A huge achievement to run 200 miles in nine days from London,
but now he must run into the Brecons,
the toughest terrain he has ever faced. He'll do a marathon today.
Why's that? He just won't let himself not do it.
They are famous for the military coming up here and people dying actually, from hyperthermia.
So they've got this mystique and a kind of scariness.
We've all been worried about him. There was a three-mile hill that he had to climb
and, you know what? My car had trouble getting up it.
This hill has been going... for too long.
Probably at his weakest point, he was powering up this hill like...
I just couldn't... He just seems to be getting stronger and stronger.
The Brecon Beacons were going to be really scary.
When the weather went good, it eases it because you look around
at the hills and say, "Wow! How are these made? These look ancient."
At the reservoir, Eddie still has an uphill climb to the finish.
The hill just goes on and on and if I think about how far the hill is, then I start to slow down.
If I think about the end, I slow down.
I have to just think about something else and get out of it, otherwise you just won't make it.
Hello.
Bloody hell, guys.
It's really steep.
I'm going to throw it, OK?
I know, in the old days, before I started this run, I would have gone,
I'm not doing this. So I've changed my whole parameters.
It's getting kind of great.
Yesterday, up here, you wouldn't have seen anything.
Since he left his old home, it seems like a weight has been lifted.
Against the odds, he powers to the end.
The end! I can see the end!
If you're competing against no-one, you're always number one.
And now the sprint finish.
Number nine.
Number nine. There's loads of flying ants!
Let's run from the flying ants.
Flying bloody ants.
I didn't ask for flying ants.
After yesterday's achievement of reaching his old home,
he is now determined to run 10 marathons in 11 days.
This is a big psychological time.
My body is actually getting better and acclimatising to running.
I am becoming this marathon man...
thing that I believed was out there.
I'd heard, talking to other runners, that you become a sort of machine.
And now the brain is linking up with the body saying,
that's what we're doing now. We're going to run all our life. It's just preparing for ever.
This is good weather. The weather you see here today was paid for by the BBC.
I know everyone at home is very sophisticated and the BBC have the power to buy weather now
and they've bought this and this costs quite a lot of money.
£27,000 worth of weather. Agh!
Jo has a great bedside manner and also is evil.
I've got through one capital, I'm here on top of the Brecon Beacons
and maybe it starts here.
After yesterday's triumphant climb, the Brecon Beacons have only just begun.
Eddie has no choice but to take one road to the finish
which happens to be a gruelling ascent.
He's making slow progress if he's going to make it to 10 marathons.
I've got to make it to Builth,
which is another...
another 13 miles.
What's the time now?
It's now 5.24pm. It's going to be close to sunset.
But I've just... got to keep ploughing on.
Everything, as you work on it... makes you tougher.
And there's people sort of... turning out
and saying hello, so that's nice.
He's doing well. I just hope he's got that pace up those hills.
Run, walk or crawl.
Today I do ten marathons, come hell or high water, come rain or shine,
no matter what happens.
We'll do ten today.
To try and take his mind off the steep incline, he explains where his motivation comes from.
I came up with two lines as a transvestite, and they got me a long way.
Action transvestite and executive transvestite.
It sort of explained me and where...
as someone of alternative sexuality, where I was placing myself.
And so I know how these things work, from...experience.
What's an action transvestite?
An action transvestite is what you're watching on the screen.
I'm a transvestite but I will thump people if they give me a hard time
and I will run a marathon a day if I say I will.
You know, you get straight transvestites.
There are gay transvestites and bi-transvestites.
And I don't understand why, but I've been given those cards
and I was honest about it and that's it.
And basically...
..all the boy parts are boy, all the blokey parts I have
and then the girlie part as well.
I don't quite know why.
I don't at all know why,
but it's genetic, pretty damn sure.
And not my choice, just be truthful about it and get on with it.
People know I'm a transvestite.
Now they know what the action bit is.
The hills are relentless, but Eddie refuses to walk, determined to run at all costs.
I've never met someone so stubborn.
We're in the mindset that if he covers a marathon on foot every day
then that's a bloody achievement but...
Eddie is in the mindset that he wants to run it.
I think he thinks he'll be letting people down if he doesn't run.
Eventually, Eddie asks for the support team.
His body is broken.
There is some really bad terrain.
The hills coming up, Eddie, are awful. I'm not sure that it's worth doing it when you're tired.
I can't give up.
It's not giving up. Three miles from here.
If that's does me a marathon, I'll do that, then.
If that three miles takes you to the ridiculously steep hill that is like that -
you go down it and then up it - I'm begging you to walk it.
But once again, Eddie ignores the clear advice from the support team.
He continues to do it his way, and keeps running.
But it's not just Eddie who's struggling.
The last few hills up to Builth Wells,
the rickshaw had used all of the batteries we had.
It was looking like we weren't going to be able to actually catch the end of the marathon on the cameras.
The film crew got out and ran along with him, which is impressive in itself.
If they stop, then that's no good.
Builth Wells Running Club, and they were waiting for me and I'm so bloody slow they came to find me.
These are some tough hills. I'll carry the camera if you want to run on.
At the summit, Eddie completes his tenth marathon...
Please don't fall off.
..and decides to cycle into the local town to celebrate.
I should do this. This is good.
I liked making a bit of a rumpus, a bit of a circus coming to town,
because I grew up in Bexhill and not much happens in Bexhill.
It's Crazy Thursday! Yeah!
Eddie seems to have captured the hearts and minds of Builth Wells, drumming up incredible support.
People of Builth Wells!
I'm doing this for Sport Relief, it's a great cause. Thank you for turning out. Builth Wells!
Even dogs have turned out!
Eddie has run 277 miles in 11 days.
But he still has 890 miles to go.
I will finish, because I've decided
that, by hook or by crook, I will finish.
Next time, Eddie's ridiculous adventure takes him through 33 gruelling marathons.
Shit, shit, shit!
With his body falling apart, he faces some of the toughest roads, an impromptu stand-up gig...
It was going...
..and the worst summer imaginable.
It's bloody miserable.
But he's got the great British public... Eddie!
..and an unlimited supply of ice cream...
Calippos are made out of callipers and hippos.
..to spur him on to his tortuous mega-marathon around the UK.
Fuck! Can I get a lift?
♪ Baby, we were born to run... ♪
If you've been inspired by Eddie's extraordinary challenge,
you can make a donation to Sport Relief right now.
Just text Eddie to 270005
and Sport Relief will get £5 to help transform the lives
of poor and vulnerable people all over the UK
and in the world's poorest countries.
Texts cost £5 plus your standard network message charge
and the whole £5 goes to Sport Relief.
♪ Baby, we were born to run
♪ Baby, we were born to run. ♪
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd
E-mail subtitling@bbc.co.uk