Story
Wooo! And suddenly it was over!
I ran the 26.2 mile London Marathon in 4 hours, 32 minutes and 27 seconds. Am very happy with my time - I really wanted 4 hours 30, and despite some problems on the 3rd quarter of the route I did speed up at the end to try and get inside the 4.30 - but it just wasn't quite enough. A very respectable time, coming in the top-half of runners - 17,931st out of a record 36,017.
The weather, for me, was perfect. Bright sunshine, very warm but with the occasional breeze to cool us down. I woke up for the 'Paula Radcliffe' - a bowl of porridge with bananas and honey. Fortunately it didn't have the same effect on me as it obviously did on her - she now famously disappeared from the course to relieve herself, in view of the BBC cameras. I covered myself with Vaseline from head to toe (oh, the glamour of running), laced up my trainers and ChampionChip and headed for the start. Late, as ever - we had to sprint to the tube as a warm-up...
Starting with the others in the 'Pleb Pen' (the elites and celebrities had separate starts), I was hemmed in with 1000's of runners some way from the start, and it took ages to edge forward. At one point, the guy in front of me (short, shaved head) had stopped to bend over and re-tie his shoelaces - I hadn't noticed and bumped straight into him from behind, and fitfully apologised.
He didn't seem to mind - and when he turned round I recognised him as none other than Dermot O'Leary from Channel 4. I hid my excitement and we chatted for the next 15 minutes (with his lovely girlfriend, who was also running) as we moved toward the start. It made my day - I had accidentally bummed Dermot O Leary! I ran the first half easily - well under my required time, and quite possibly heading for a miracle 4 hours. I was overtaking right, left and centre, and felt great - even though I'd deliberately set out at a slow pace. Then - disaster! - my iPod crashed at mile 9 or so. Not only did I lose my funky house music (great to run to), I had also lost the use of the timing device and so form that point I was recalculating my pace constantly through the race in my head. Grrrrr. Throughout the course, everyone was outside their houses cheering all the runners. There were crowds of families along the route handing out orange segments and sweets, drinkers congregated outside pubs in the sunshine with entertainment (Elvis's on podia, etc) which was a bit odd. There was a real festival atmosphere with a cockney edge to it. As we headed through Greenwich, the Labour Party office was out in force with posters and stickers, so I grabbed a balloon from a surprised-looking activist and attached it to my now defunct iPod. Passing Cutty Sark and then crossing Tower Bridge were amazing - before heading through Wapping and Canary Wharf. Miles 19-24 were rather dreadful. I didn't suddenly 'hit the wall' as everyone always goes on about - it was a gradual process of depleting energy, knees killing more and more and muscles slowly becoming like clumsy bits of lead. I developed a worrying pain in my chest, and then one of my calves all but seized up. As I stopped to stretch it out, a couple of little boys in the crowd asked me if I wanted a drink, some water or some of their sweets. I thanked them - a new pair of legs would have been nice at that point. My balloon burst at mile 21, just before I worked out definitively that my 4 hour dream had burst with it. Each time I walked I did eventually manage to get going again. By the time we made the Embankment underpass I knew it would be over soon enough - but I also realised I was outside the 4 hours 30 target time by a fair distance, which encouraged me to sprint to try and get back some of my lost time. One woman spectator towards the end was shouting "you've all done something amazing", and that really summed the whole thing up for me. 36,000-odd runners, and each had done something a bit special. I did my best to catch up on the time - and spotting a gaggle of friends (and Rob) jumping up and down helped get me going around Parliament and up the mall, overtaking as I went. The crowds on these last sections were astonishing. Hanging off bridges, several people deep, all waving and getting into the spirit of the day. When I saw the finish, I saw from the clock that I hadn't quite done enough for the 4.30 but kept sprinting anyway. Afterwards I found family and friends and headed for the pasta party held by my charity for its runners. The FHA had done us proud, it was great to meet the founders of the charity, set up in 1975. With a bit of luck, I may well have finished first out of their 22 runners - and possibly with the highest fund-raising total, too*. And only 2 blisters, both of which had gone by Tuesday. Thanks to all my sponsors, friends, family and (especially) Rob for putting up with me over the last few months. * By the way, it's by no means too late to sponsor me, even though I've now broken through the £2,000 level...
I ran the 26.2 mile London Marathon in 4 hours, 32 minutes and 27 seconds. Am very happy with my time - I really wanted 4 hours 30, and despite some problems on the 3rd quarter of the route I did speed up at the end to try and get inside the 4.30 - but it just wasn't quite enough. A very respectable time, coming in the top-half of runners - 17,931st out of a record 36,017.
The weather, for me, was perfect. Bright sunshine, very warm but with the occasional breeze to cool us down. I woke up for the 'Paula Radcliffe' - a bowl of porridge with bananas and honey. Fortunately it didn't have the same effect on me as it obviously did on her - she now famously disappeared from the course to relieve herself, in view of the BBC cameras. I covered myself with Vaseline from head to toe (oh, the glamour of running), laced up my trainers and ChampionChip and headed for the start. Late, as ever - we had to sprint to the tube as a warm-up...
Starting with the others in the 'Pleb Pen' (the elites and celebrities had separate starts), I was hemmed in with 1000's of runners some way from the start, and it took ages to edge forward. At one point, the guy in front of me (short, shaved head) had stopped to bend over and re-tie his shoelaces - I hadn't noticed and bumped straight into him from behind, and fitfully apologised.
He didn't seem to mind - and when he turned round I recognised him as none other than Dermot O'Leary from Channel 4. I hid my excitement and we chatted for the next 15 minutes (with his lovely girlfriend, who was also running) as we moved toward the start. It made my day - I had accidentally bummed Dermot O Leary! I ran the first half easily - well under my required time, and quite possibly heading for a miracle 4 hours. I was overtaking right, left and centre, and felt great - even though I'd deliberately set out at a slow pace. Then - disaster! - my iPod crashed at mile 9 or so. Not only did I lose my funky house music (great to run to), I had also lost the use of the timing device and so form that point I was recalculating my pace constantly through the race in my head. Grrrrr. Throughout the course, everyone was outside their houses cheering all the runners. There were crowds of families along the route handing out orange segments and sweets, drinkers congregated outside pubs in the sunshine with entertainment (Elvis's on podia, etc) which was a bit odd. There was a real festival atmosphere with a cockney edge to it. As we headed through Greenwich, the Labour Party office was out in force with posters and stickers, so I grabbed a balloon from a surprised-looking activist and attached it to my now defunct iPod. Passing Cutty Sark and then crossing Tower Bridge were amazing - before heading through Wapping and Canary Wharf. Miles 19-24 were rather dreadful. I didn't suddenly 'hit the wall' as everyone always goes on about - it was a gradual process of depleting energy, knees killing more and more and muscles slowly becoming like clumsy bits of lead. I developed a worrying pain in my chest, and then one of my calves all but seized up. As I stopped to stretch it out, a couple of little boys in the crowd asked me if I wanted a drink, some water or some of their sweets. I thanked them - a new pair of legs would have been nice at that point. My balloon burst at mile 21, just before I worked out definitively that my 4 hour dream had burst with it. Each time I walked I did eventually manage to get going again. By the time we made the Embankment underpass I knew it would be over soon enough - but I also realised I was outside the 4 hours 30 target time by a fair distance, which encouraged me to sprint to try and get back some of my lost time. One woman spectator towards the end was shouting "you've all done something amazing", and that really summed the whole thing up for me. 36,000-odd runners, and each had done something a bit special. I did my best to catch up on the time - and spotting a gaggle of friends (and Rob) jumping up and down helped get me going around Parliament and up the mall, overtaking as I went. The crowds on these last sections were astonishing. Hanging off bridges, several people deep, all waving and getting into the spirit of the day. When I saw the finish, I saw from the clock that I hadn't quite done enough for the 4.30 but kept sprinting anyway. Afterwards I found family and friends and headed for the pasta party held by my charity for its runners. The FHA had done us proud, it was great to meet the founders of the charity, set up in 1975. With a bit of luck, I may well have finished first out of their 22 runners - and possibly with the highest fund-raising total, too*. And only 2 blisters, both of which had gone by Tuesday. Thanks to all my sponsors, friends, family and (especially) Rob for putting up with me over the last few months. * By the way, it's by no means too late to sponsor me, even though I've now broken through the £2,000 level...