Hi!

Dear all,

I thought you might like to read my account of Sunday’s Virgin London Marathon.

As a ballot-placed runner last year I started at Blue Start on Blackheath Common. This year, as a charity-placed runner, it was from Red Start in (the starts aren’t far apart). There is a Green Start too, for ‘celebrities’ and ‘good for age’ runners.

The previous few days had been very warm, so it was with some trepidation I looked out of my hotel window early Sunday morning to see what was in store. The sky was overcast – a promising sign.

I forced some breakfast down – porridge, cereals and toast with tea, even though like most other runners I had no real appetite due to nerves etc. Then it was a few yards across the road again to Waterloo East station for the 15 min train ride to . As last year the train was packed, and it was 2 hrs before the start!

Arriving at I just followed the masses heading for the park, about a 10 min walk away. Was that a few drops of rain I felt?

I entered the Red Start area and located some friends. We sat on the grass, resting our legs. I then began my ritual of putting plasters on toes, smearing Vaseline all over my feet to reduce friction and blisters, and affixing my race number to my running vest. Again I felt small drops of rain. We chatted nervously and took a few photographs.

Then it poured down and we all ran for cover into the marquees around the park. We were squeezed in like sardines! The rain was good and bad. It would cool us down, but if it rained too much we would get very cold.

After a few minutes it stopped and we headed out towards the starting pens. There were thousands of us there. I was allocated Pen 9, right at the back, which suited me as I don’t run fast and wouldn’t be in other people’s way. Like many others I took off my charity shop fleece, bought just to keep warm whilst waiting to start, and tossed it over the fence into the crowd.

Then we were off. It takes a while for the runners to exit the park onto the road, so we walked slowly forward. My stomach was churning, knowing what was to come. The nerves got the better of me and like hundreds of others I had to dive into some bushes and ‘water the flowers’. Next to me was a man dressed as Scooby-Doo doing the same thing. How surreal was that?! I waved at the TV camera high up on a crane, wondering if anyone would recognise me.

I was with my mate Joe, who runs barefoot (yes, barefoot!). We agreed at that point to try and stay together for the run. I doubted I would keep up with him as he’s younger than me, but suddenly we were crossing the start line and I pressed my stop-watch.

We settled into a very easy pace. Both of us ran last year and we both struggled at the end, posting over 5 hrs each. This year we aimed to run to the first water station (mile 3) then walk for 1 minute through all the rest (every mile) giving ourselves a short break, time to take on water and carbohydrate gels if needed, and for Joe to occasionally check his feet. We hoped to run under 5 hrs this time.

Joe got a huge amount of attention being barefoot. Other runners and the crowd thought he was stark raving mad! This attention helped me, as the vibes pulled me along too. Joe and I chatted as we ran, often talking through ‘systems checks’ ie how we were feeling, was the pace okay, did we have any niggles, pain etc.

At mile 3 we merged with Blue Start and, as usual, there was some good-natured banter across the road between the two groups of runners!

The weather had now warmed up, and it felt quite humid. We were now part of a 40,000 strong human ‘snake’ weaving it’s way across south east London.

The crowds were fantastic. They lined all 26.2 miles of the route, cheering, clapping and shouting encouragement (and pointing at Joe’s feet!). Once again the pubs were open, and there was live music, church bells ringing, massive Kodo drums in an underpass, church choirs singing, brass bands and bagpipe bands playing – absolutely awesome. It was very humbling to realise all these people had come from all over the country, and abroad, to support the runners.

At mile 6 we rounded Cutty Sark, still sadly boarded up and fenced off, and headed off towards . On the bridge (mile 12) I saw a man laying on the ground being tended by St John Ambulance, and we were pushed over to one side as we passed. It reminded me how hard the run is.

After I turned right. Here the crowd noise is deafening. It is one of the most spectator-congested parts of the course. A huge double-decker bus in the middle of the road plays deafening music here. Joe looked across to the other side of the road and was able to spot his wife Jen amongst the Victa charity supporters. That gave him a real boost. I knew the Cats Protection ‘cheering station’ was at about mile 22.5 so I had a way to go yet!

Into the Isle of Dogs we turned, to do the 9 mile circuit. On the other side of the road the faster runners were going the other way! We kept having to check our pace, as any loud music or crowd noise could make you run faster without realising it. We both had to slow each other down at various times.

The crowd all wanted ‘high-fives’, and also held out fruit, drinks, sweets and chocolate for the runners. After a Lucozade Gel station, where the road gets very sticky, we had to stop so Joe could rinse his feet in a puddle! There were several cold showers on the course too, which you ran through to cool down – most welcome.

Running around is a bit odd, as you are in the shade for a long time and feel dwarfed by the tall buildings. After what seems like forever we passed the Billingsgate Fish Market (deserted on a Sunday) and headed back towards . This time Joe wanted to stop and speak to his wife. The marathon is a very emotional event. I slapped him on his back and told him to go for it. Eventually we saw the Victa flags and we stopped briefly. Joe hugged and kissed his wife and I gave her a hug too, promising to look after him.

The last 4.2 miles are really tough. You are at your lowest ebb. But there is nowhere to hide. Your exhaustion and pain is very public. But the crowd knows this, and it gets noisier and noisier as you see the London Eye and Big Ben slowly coming into view in the distance.

Suddenly I saw the Cats Protection station to my right ahead. I slowed down (even more) and managed to ‘high-five’ most of them whilst shouting ‘thank you!’ as I plodded past. It was great to see them.

By now my groin, hips and back were really aching, but you know deep down you are not going to stop now, so on you go. Joe and I kept calling out words of encouragement, urging each other on.

Turning right into the noise erupts again. It is almost overwhelming and your emotions really begin to well up inside you. The crowd are so close at this point, you feel like you are flying through them. I looked at my watch and saw that we were over 5 hrs.

Then the signs – 800m to go, 600m to go!! Joe and I deliberately ran around the outside of the final right hand bend into The Mall, just to ‘high five’ (again) the crowd who feel a bit neglected as most runners cut the corner to finish sooner. They responded with cheers and applause.

And then we were in the final few hundred yards, with the balloon-covered red and white finish gantries in the distance. We shook hands as we approached the line, then joined hands as we crossed in a sort of Victory gesture.

WE HAD COMPLETED THE !!

An amazing moment – I am not ashamed to say we stopped and hugged briefly. We had started our incredible journey together and had finished together. I think I may have had something in my eye at that point too.

Our time was 5 hrs 17 mins but we didn’t care at all. Completion was the new goal and neither of us had hit The Wall. We walked up the ramps to have our timing chips cut off, then had the coveted London Marathon medals put around our necks, and our photographs taken. We collected our ‘goody bags’ then walked down The Mall to collect our property bags, last seen at .

Joe met Jen in Horseguards, where I said a reluctant good-bye to them before heading off into St James’s Park to wait for my friends to come and find me. I sat on the grass, took off my trainers and examined my feet which weren’t too bad after the ordeal (Joe’s feet were pretty good too!) Then I put on my Marathon T-shirt and sat in the sunshine, surrounded by thousands of runners and their supporters all doing the same thing.

When Roger and Lucy arrived we headed off to (stopping at a pub for an orange juice and lemonade) then took a train to Lewes. I got home about and enjoyed some champagne with Linda. 

Joe sent me a very nice text message, thanking me for helping him around. I think secretly we had both struggled a lot, but did not want the other to know, so kept quiet. It is so important not to allow any negative thoughts into your head whilst running, and stay positive. I sent one back, thanking him for his company too.

Cats Protection set me a target of £1300, and at the moment I have about £1700. Thank you to all those who sponsored me, donated money or simply gave me words of encouragement – it really meant a lot to me.

 

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

(Theodore Roosevelt)

 

Please also take a look at www.cats.org.uk if you have the time:

£3 helps pay for vital supplies such as food and vaccinations

£5 could contribute to a kitten's initial health check with a vet

£10 can help pay for urgent veterinary care and life-saving medicines

£15 can feed one abandoned cat or kitten every month

£20 can pay for one cat to be neutered.

 

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