Proof alcoholics can hide in plain sight... I swigged wine in marathon

The night before my first 100-mile, ultra-marathon race I drank two bottles of wine and went to bed late.

I woke with a hangover, terrified and anxious. Retching and with a pounding head I headed to the start line. There, the sporting elite gathered. Lean, super-fit, focused, high-achieving people; those who relished pushing themselves to the boundaries of human ­endurance for fun.

Contrary to what you may imagine, I didn't look out of place.

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