THE AFTERMATH

That really did happen. All of it. Seriously. I really did say the word ‘arse’ in front of Prince Harry, and tell him I wanted to clutch him to my lacy-black-bra-clad bosom, which he could probably see through my dress. He really did say the word ‘shit’, and admit to the world that he has been close to a breakdown. This man has bravely broken away from all the traditions of the stiff upper lip that his family – the Royal family, can we not forget – have always epitomised.

I mean: woah. WOAH. No wonder he was so nervous. My whole life, I have been terrible at keeping anything to myself – other, of course, than my mental illness, and recently even that I couldn’t stop talking about at every turn. But with the Prince Harry interview, I was sworn to secrecy. For three excruciating weeks, until the Sunday before the marathon, I was going to have to keep the contents of the podcast to myself. The Telegraph’s editor had heard it, obviously, and practically done cartwheels in his office, but after that the recording had been put on a USB stick and locked in a safe. No matter how much I wanted to tell everyone that I had just flashed my bra at Prince Harry, I couldn’t. I spent long hours twiddling my thumbs and pacing up and down rooms. ‘Would you JUST. SIT. STILL?’ my colleagues implored me. But I couldn’t.

On 16 April my phone starts bleeping at 9.45pm, when the interview is released. At first friends, then news networks. By the time I get to sleep at 1am, I know I have to be up four hours later to do a day of media: BBC, ITV, Sky, CNN… Finally, the interview is out and I feel like I can breathe again. The reaction is incredible – my inbox is bursting and I keep hearing my voice on the news chatting to Prince Harry. Plus, it being a podcast, nobody has mentioned the bra. All week, the news agenda is dominated by His Royal Highness opening up about his mental health issues.

And over the next few days, on the back of the publicity surrounding the interview, my marathon fundraising total goes from £19,000 to £25,000 and then, incredibly, £33,000. Now all I had to do was run the bloody thing. Eat, Drink, Run: How I Got Fit Without Going Too Mad, by Bryony Gordon, is published by Headline Publishing Group (16.99). To order your copy for £14.99 plus p&p, call 0844-871 1514 or visit books.telegraph.co.uk