Living it Arg

by James Argent

  What the hell’s happening now? I thought.

  As I lay there, Gemma began to touch me intimately. It was unexpected to say the least, but it felt strangely nice and I allowed her to carry on. I don’t know what made her do it, but in my boozy state I was happy to go along. Perhaps it was her way of giving me a bit of a treat. It felt a bit weird, because we didn’t kiss or do anything else sexually. Afterwards, Gemma fell asleep and I moved to another bunk, where I crashed out.

  When we awoke in the morning we were both quite embarrassed. Gemma swore me to secrecy.

  ‘Please don’t tell anyone, Arg. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea,’ she said.

  I agreed to keep it quiet – and luckily nobody else at boot camp had cottoned on. I was slightly bemused by the whole incident, but Gemma is a nice girl and I just put it down to a bit of drunken fun between two people who were both single. I certainly didn’t think it would lead to a relationship, but, then, I didn’t have too much time to think about it.

  I had a marathon to run.

  When the day of the London Marathon arrived I was confident that I was in pretty good shape. I had lost 2 stone in the space of six weeks and I was feeling fit and healthy. I had raised several thousand pounds in pledges of sponsorship for Cancer Research and I was looking forward to the race. I still had a few minor doubts because I’d had such a short time to train, but I did my best to put my reservations behind me. During the final stages of preparation I’d been told it’s a good idea to increase your intake of carbohydrates. I didn’t need to be told twice. After all the austerity at boot camp, I jumped at the chance to load up. The day before the event I went to a pizza restaurant in Loughton, where I tucked into a huge bowl of pasta with lots of garlic bread and mozzarella cheese. On the morning of the race I stopped at a McDonald’s, where I ordered a double-sausage-and-egg McMuffin. I thought it would give me more energy, but when I got to the starting line-up everybody laughed when I told them that I’d pigged out. Joey, Diags and Tom Pearce all came along to wish me luck, so I had plenty of support. Joey presented me with a big comedy hat that he’d made for me to wear during the race. It consisted of a big yellow arrow pointing to my head with ‘ARG’ written on it.

  ‘It’ll bring you luck and everyone’ll cheer you on when they see your name,’ Joey said with a grin.

  It was nice sunny day and everywhere I looked there were huge crowds of runners milling around. You could feel the excitement as everybody finally got ready for the big moment, and I could feel myself getting psyched up. Oddly, my preparations involved smearing myself in lots of Vaseline. One of the things the boys take the piss out of me for is that I have very large nipples (they call them burger nipples). I was worried that they would chafe during the race, hence the Vaseline. I was taking no chances.

  As I moved towards the starting line I bumped into Gordon Ramsay, who was also taking part. It was the first time we’d spoken since the Christmas show and we said a brief hello and spoke for a few moments. Will Young, whom I’d met through ITV, was also taking part and when we saw each other we shook hands and wished each other well.

  I could feel my heart pounding as the final moments ticked by to the beginning of the race. I was proud to be wearing a Cancer Research vest and I was determined to prove wrong all the people who’d doubted that I would finish. I took my place in the line and suddenly . . . Go!

  We were finally off. I started at a fairly good pace and I soon settled into a rhythm that was comfortable. My legs and arms felt good and my breathing was nice and steady. As I made my way around the first few miles of the route I could see that the crowds were out in force. The atmosphere was amazing. It felt like a Cup final, with people on both sides of the road cheering at the tops of their voices while we ran past. I will never forget the support that I got from the crowd. It was fantastic, from the start to the very end. I could hear people shouting things like, ‘Come on, Arg!’ and ‘We love you, Arg. Do it for Essex!’

  The Marathon is so special because you share such a warm camaraderie with the crowd and your fellow runners. It is like a huge team event with everybody roaring you on to achieve the amazing feat of running the gruelling distance of 26.2 miles. As I sailed along I could feel other runners patting me on the back or smacking my bum in encouragement as they went past me. All the publicity about me meant that a lot of people knew I was taking part. There were people at the roadside holding up signs with my name on and wishing me well. It gave me a real boost.

  It felt as if I were flying around the course and each time I passed a new mile marker my confidence continued to grow. Every few hundred yards there were people in the crowd holding out chewy sweets or chocolates for the runners so that we could stock up on our energy. I was happy to accept my fair share and at one point I think I may have eaten a few too many, because I briefly started to feel a bit sick, but it soon passed.

  The TOWIE camera crew had planned to be at certain points early on the course in order to film me going by, but my initial pace was much quicker than anybody expected, so they kept missing me. During my training, I’d been warned by people who’d previously done the Marathon that some runners experience something known as ‘hitting the wall’. It’s a phrase for when you suddenly get overwhelmed by exhaustion and it’s supposed to feel as though you’d run full pelt into a brick wall. But as I cruised around the course nothing seemed further from my mind. I think the atmosphere generated by the excitement of the crowds carried me around the first half of the race. I couldn’t believe I was doing so well. Even my burger nipples seemed to be pain-free!

  So far, so good.

  I was confident I was going to make it. Every now and then I used my asthma inhaler to keep my breathing nice and smooth and there was no sign of any problems. My mum and dad and other members of my family were moving between various points along the route to cheer me on and I got a big boost when I saw them all at Canary Wharf.

  It was only from about Mile 12 onwards that I began to notice that, from time to time, somebody would drop out of the race and collapse at the roadside. At first it was just one or two, but as the race wore on it seemed that every few hundred yards there would be somebody laid out with exhaustion and surrounded by paramedics. I was still feeling OK in myself, but I must admit that it gave me a twinge of apprehension to see all the ambulances and I began to doubt myself. That could easily be me, I thought. Those people at the roadside were probably fighting fit, but I’ve only trained for six weeks.

  Despite my fears, I continued to do my best and the mile markers just kept on coming. Eventually, the TOWIE crew caught up with me and I paused to film a couple of interviews for them at the roadside. I was also interviewed for TV by Olympic gold medalist Denise Lewis. Soon I was running past a sign that read MILE 14, then MILE 15. It felt crazy, because I was doing so well as Mile 16 approached. Or so I thought.

  Suddenly out of nowhere I hit the wall. Bang!

  It seemed to happen in an instant. One minute I was fine and the next I could not physically move my legs. They seemed to be frozen still and they felt like huge lead weights beneath me. I was completely overwhelmed by a horrible feeling that I couldn’t run any further. It felt as if my whole body was out of fuel and it was a strange sensation. I hadn’t felt exhausted until Mile 16, but now I simply just couldn’t move. This was the dreaded wall that everybody had warned me about. I limped over to the roadside and tried to stretch the tiredness out of my legs, but it didn’t seem to make any difference.

  From that point on every step was agony.

  I can only describe it as ten miles of sheer hell. Slowly, my muscles began to respond and I was able to jog for a while before taking a rest. That was how I carried on for the remainder of the course, repeating that sequence over and over again, stopping whenever I needed to. During the final few miles, I was in a bad way, but I’d come so far that I was determined to finish. I was running on sheer willpower. My body felt as if it was empty.

  At around Mile 19,
I saw Joey and my family at the roadside cheering me on. The sight of them and the noise of the crowds cheering overwhelmed me and I got a bit choked up. It’s very easy to become emotional while running the Marathon because you are stretching yourself to the limits of your endurance. I was totally exhausted, but Joey gave me a little hug and offered to take my hat from me.

  ‘No, Joey, I’m going to carry it across the line,’ I said tearfully. (It all seems a bit cheesy to me now, but it meant a lot to me at the time.)

  I amazed myself by carrying on, even though I was in complete agony. I was so close now to achieving something special that I knew I would never forgive myself if I gave up after coming so far. I gritted my teeth and slowly made my way towards the end of the race, step by painful step.

  By now I was probably staggering and limping like an injured man, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was reaching that finishing line. When I finally got there the relief was overwhelming.

  I’ve done it!

  It had taken me six hours, which included stopping to give a couple of interviews to the TOWIE crew. I was well and truly knackered, but I have never felt more proud of myself. The crowd got me through, and I now plan to go back every year to support others. When I put on my finisher’s medal I felt like a champion athlete. It was a fitting tribute to the memory of Granddad Seamus. It was one of the most rewarding things I have ever done and I am truly grateful to Cancer Research for believing in me when others didn’t.

  16

  BACK TO MARBS AND PASSION WITH GEMMA

  The summer of 2012 was fast approaching – and I was about to enjoy a roller-coaster romance with Gemma Collins. Despite the cheeky surprise that Gemma had given me under the sheets at boot camp I never envisaged that we would end up as an item. Nothing had developed between us since our brief tryst in Marbella, but we’d remained good friends and we shared a healthy chemistry whenever we appeared together on TOWIE. Neither of us had breathed a word to anybody about what happened in that wooden bunk bed, so it stayed our little secret throughout most of Series 5 of The Only Way Is Essex. I’d laughed off the incident and put it down to nothing more than a bit of drunken banter.

  I liked Gemma for her warmth and bubbly personality, but at this stage I just didn’t think of her as somebody I might end up dating. I could see that she was a very pretty girl and I liked her company, but I loved her as a pal rather than as a prospective partner. We had a nice rapport with one another but I always thought that would be as far as it went.

  What I hadn’t bargained for was just how perceptive the producers of TOWIE can be. They are extremely hard to keep a secret from and they obviously need to have their finger on the pulse when it comes to knowing who has done what with whom. If you have a secret you can be sure that they’ll eventually find out about it. They are amazing at getting stuff out of you and it’s very hard not to be totally honest with them. I was chatting with one of the producers one day when the subject of Gemma came up. Normally, I am the biggest blabbermouth in Essex, but our bunk-bed liaison was one secret that I’d managed to keep intact.

  Until now.

  When the producers pressed me about whether I was holding anything back, I’m afraid I caved in and told them what happened. It might seem a bit ungentlemanly of me, but you have to remember that TOWIE is a big goldfish bowl, and nothing stays quiet for ever. Besides, I had a sneaking suspicion that, despite her early fears about what people would think, Gemma wouldn’t really mind. She had been playing up to me in front of the cameras at every opportunity and it was obvious that she fancied me. Nevertheless, I was still very nervous about having it mentioned on air, but the producers were keen to use it in a storyline. In fact, they thought the whole thing was hilarious, because it was so unexpected. Soon, the whole production crew seemed to be talking about it. It was quite funny, I realise now, because I’d occasionally see a small group of them having a hushed conversation and, when I asked what they were discussing, they would give me a curt reply.

  ‘Oh, nothing, Arg, just what happened at boot camp.’ Then they’d wink.

  The producers convinced me that if the storyline were done in a humorous way it would make harmless fun. As the finale to Series 5 approached, I decided to share my secret with Joey and Diags at a big party while the cameras were rolling. The boys thought it was hilarious and it soon went around the party like wildfire. Joey told Sam Faiers and eventually word got back to Gemma. I didn’t think that she’d be too angry and I decided that I would give her a big kiss for the cameras to show her it was just a bit of fun. I had a sneaking suspicion that if I kissed her it would steal the show and make a great end to the series; plus, I knew that Gemma would probably love all the attention.

  I felt slightly awkward at the party that night because Lydia was there and she flirted on the dance floor with a new bloke she had started to see. It made me feel uncomfortable and, as the party wore on, there seemed to be no opportunity to have a conversation with Gemma. After a while, I abandoned my plan to kiss her and I decided to leave. As I was walking out of the building I heard Gemma come running up behind me. It came as a bit of a shock, because the producers hadn’t given me any warning that she was about to confront me.

  ‘Arg, where are you going?’ she yelled.

  I was nervous about how she would react, but I needn’t have worried, because Gemma had a big smile on her face.

  ‘Why have you been going around telling everyone?’ she asked, referring to our tryst in Marbella.

  At first Gemma tried to deny what had happened at boot camp, but when I protested that it was true she laughed and admitted it on camera. My heart was beating quite fast by now because it was an unusual situation to find yourself in on television. We had a bit of a giggle and Gemma made it clear that she thought it was obvious there was something special going on between us.

  In fact she told me that she loved me.

  I wasn’t sure that I felt the same way, but I went along for the ride. That was the moment I chose to give her a big kiss. I leaned forward and we snogged in front of the cameras. It was the first time I had kissed Gemma and it felt nice. Our embrace made the final scene of the series, and when it was broadcast it caused an enormous amount of excitement on Twitter. Everyone seemed to be talking about it, although at the time I still didn’t think it would lead to anything between us. It had been a nice gesture for the cameras, but I took Gemma’s comment about being in love with me with a pinch of salt.

  The next day I was due to fly to Las Vegas. Mark was out filming a new TV project in LA and the plan was that he would drive to Vegas to meet me and a few of the boys so that we could spend some time soaking up the sunshine and clubbing together. When I was on the way to the airport I sent Gemma a quick text to wish her well, and I was concentrating on the thought of being reunited with Mark for a boys’ holiday. While I was in the taxi my mobile rang.

  It was Lydia.

  ‘I really need to speak to you, James. Can we talk?’ she said.

  I was surprised that she had called. Lydia had been with her new man, Tom, at the party and I was slowly starting to get over our split, so I wasn’t sure that there was anything to discuss.

  ‘Lydia, I’m on the way to Las Vegas for a holiday with the boys. I just want to enjoy myself and get away. I can’t speak to you now,’ I said.

  Lydia insisted that it was important, so I agreed I’d call her back. I still had feelings for Lydia, but I’d given up all hope of trying to repair things. I saw the fact that she had started seeing somebody else as being the point of no return, and I wanted to move on with my life.

  I’d even finally confessed to cheating on Lydia during a conversation with Debbie, which was shown during the last episode of the series. It was a big admission, but I couldn’t see the point in trying to hide it any more. I told Debbie that the rumours that I had slept with girls behind Lydia’s back were true. There was no need for me to label myself a love rat like that in front of cameras, but I felt so guilty about it th
at when it came up in conversation I didn’t want to lie any more. It was like the final act of closure on the relationship.

  As I reached the airport I received a text from Lydia, which contained a link to a long and very moving email that she’d written to me. The gist of it was that Lydia thanked me for finally being honest about the fact that I had cheated on her. She said that deep down she had always known I had been unfaithful, but that she put up with it in the hope that I would stop. She signed off by saying that I would always have a place in her heart and that it was a shame that things hadn’t worked out between us. I got a bit choked up when I read her words but I knew that I had to be strong, so I didn’t write back. I just wanted closure and to enjoy my holiday.

  When I arrived in Las Vegas I got my first real taste of what a big stir my kiss with Gemma had caused. There were photographers waiting for me at the airport and, as I walked through the arrivals lounge, they started to shout questions at me.

  ‘Arg, what’s happening between you and Gemma?’ they barked.

  They seemed to want to know every detail. Back home, all the papers and the magazines were going crazy for a new angle. I did my best to laugh off their questions and I hotfooted it into a taxi.

  Vegas itself was a real laugh. Mark and I stayed in a suite at the Encore Hotel and we had a fantastic time, being joined by several friends during our nights out on the town. We were followed by paparazzi everywhere we went, which seemed strange in a land where nobody had heard of me.

  While I was in Vegas I received one more text from Lydia. It read along the lines of, ‘Just one last thing, can you please tell me did anything happen between you and Amy?’

  Mark was with me at the time.

  ‘Arg, don’t bother writing back,’ he said. ‘What’s the point?’

  He was right. I couldn’t see the need to get into a conversation about the secret Christmas kiss that I had shared with Amy, not while Lydia’s emotions were running so high. I didn’t reply to her text.