My son was chasing his dream, but who was his mystery fan club? By Ceri Hooper, 54
Glancing out of the window, I spotted a figure bouncing up and down on the trampoline.
It was a grey, drizzly day but my son, Lloyd, 19, never let the weather stop him.
In fact, he didn’t let anything get in his way.
Lloyd was born with Down’s syndrome, and although doctors warned he’d be floppy, lethargic and have no muscle tone, he was the complete opposite.
He quickly learnt to crawl, then walk, and ever since then, he was always on the go, and joined gymnastics, judo and football clubs as he grew up.
Then we received an email from Special Olympics GB, who had an opportunity for a place in the London Marathon.
I’d run the marathon before when Lloyd and his brother, Finlay, were younger and they’d loved the buzz as they cheered me on.
‘Would you like to give it a go?’ I asked him.
He nodded.
Finlay, me and Lloyd...
We sent off an application for Lloyd and me, but didn’t expect anything to come of it.
So, when an email popped up, my hand jumped to my mouth.
‘We’re in!’ I shouted to Lloyd.
But we had just four months until the marathon and Lloyd had only run a 5k before.
‘We’ll be training regularly, rain or shine,’ I warned him. ‘Are you in?’
‘Let’s do it,’ he said, determined.
I made up a schedule of three runs each week. Lloyd listened to his upbeat music and stopped for a dance every so often.
Then, at each mile, I pulled out a jelly bean for us both. It helped break up the route for Lloyd, who could usually only focus for 20 minutes at a time.
But he never moaned or missed a session. Each week, we ran further and further until by the end of our training plan, Lloyd had managed 18 miles. I knew the atmosphere would get him through the extra eight on the day.
Lloyd loved Guinness World Records, so we approached them to see if he could break his own record for completing the race.
And he did interviews to help his fundraising for Special Olympics GB and Stepping Stones DS, who had both been a huge support to us.
The days passed in a blur and before I knew it, I was laying out Lloyd’s green kit.
I was filled with a mixture of nerves and excitement.
The next morning, we jumped on the train from our home in Camberley, Surrey, to London and arrived at the starting point.
Lloyd
The atmosphere was electric as the crowds cheered.
Then suddenly, I heard the sound of my own voice booming across the field.
I looked up and spotted me and Lloyd on the big screen!
‘Look, Lloyd,’ I said, and he broke into a grin.
They were playing one of our interviews and when people walked past, they recognised us.
‘Can I have a selfie?’ one asked.
Lloyd happily posed for the camera and lapped up the attention.
Then, we spotted Lloyd’s gymnastics coach who said: ‘When I see you, I want you to do a cartwheel.’
As we joined the 40,000 runners ready to start, I told Lloyd: ‘You’ve got this.’
Then the klaxon went and we were off!
My family, friends and running club cheered us on and when Lloyd spotted his gymnastics coach, he sprung on to his hand and spun over to huge applause.
The crowd couldn’t get enough, so he started doing dances, cartwheels—even the splits.
He was in his element.
Then we turned a corner and my mouth dropped.
There was a wall of banners that read: Lloyd the legend.
And even more mysteriously, the people holding them were all wearing masks of Lloyd’s face.
Lloyd looked just as confused as me!
But their support was exactly what we needed to carry us on.
We passed Buckingham Palace, turned the corner and there was the finish line.
Lloyd crossed it on his own, his arms held high, and afterwards, we burst into tears of triumph.
He’d run the race in a time of six hours and 46 minutes.
Before we even had time to catch our breath, Lloyd was presented with his world record.
At 19, he was the youngest person to complete a marathon in the intellectual impairment category.
My heart swelled with pride.
Back home, intrigued by our mystery supporters, I tracked them down on Instagram.
It turned out it was organised by a man who wasn’t able to run due to injury. They’d chosen three unsuspecting runners from the promo footage and made banners to cheer them on.
I messaged to thank them for their support and Lloyd’s fan club kept growing.
Us
He thrived in television and radio interviews.
Messages of support flooded in, and like a proper celeb, Lloyd started to receive fan mail.
The illustrator Lucy Dunbar created a beautiful picture of Lloyd in his kit that’s now in pride of place on the wall, alongside his world record, shirt and medal.
Lloyd raised over £18,000 and he’s been nominated for a JustGiving award.
And, of course, he has more marathons planned—though next, he’s doing a skydive!
Lloyd is embracing every moment of his new-found fame and his legend status.
He proves anything is possible if you put your mind to it.
