Hi,

Charity bit

First out, the ACE centre is my sister's charity which is a wonderful organisation that through a combination of technology aids, speech, and occupational therapies, can empower even the most severely handicapped child so that they can use a computer and communicate.  They do a fantastic job, and I am proud to be of some use to them by raising these funds.

Aftermath

Thank you so much to everyone who has donated.  Also, thank you from the bottom of my heart to Lee who gave up his bed so that I could get a good rest the night before, and to Jon, Ed, Penny for standing in some disgustingly bad weather to cheer me on at the 17 mile mark.

A brief diary of the day:

Woke up at 6am without much sleep, stomach in knots!  Did the necessary so I could walk out the door, but couldn't stomach anything more than a couple of cups of hot water.  Met a nice guy called Ben at Turnpike Lane and we exchanged stories about our experiences in training, and it turns out that he'd also injured himself at the end of February so hadn't really been able to train since then either.

Got to Blackheath in plenty of time, registered, bagged, stretched, stood in line.  The weather was beautiful, and the hot air balloons and scenes at the start were immense.  All too quickly the race got underway and I crossed the start line about a minute in.  Waved to the cameras with a big smile, then proceeded to lower my hand and strike a fellow runner quite hard on the head, for which she didn't thank me!

Thoughts such as "f*** me I'm doing the marathon" and "I'm knackered already" crept into my head, as I went through the first mile in nine minutes.  At this point it was pretty obvious that my original target wasn't going to last, and I decided that survival was probably the sensible option.

After a mile we merged with the red group, and then I heard some chanting.  It turned out to be the much-publicised Masai tribe from the telly!  I ran alongside them for half a mile, soaking up the adulation from the crowd.  The crowd were like nothing I've ever experienced.  MAGNIFICENT.  If you want to see a genuine outpouring of the kindness of human nature, run the London marathon.

After a while, I remembered the Masai were aiming for 4 hours, and I thought I could edge that so I took off ahead, sad to leave the cheers behind but fortunately managed to end up near some girls in lingerie, which proved to be a pleasant slipstream to run in, until I felt self-conscious and realised that I needed all the blood flow to be in my legs, so again moved ahead.

I was very comfortable and happy for the first eight miles, and found myself thinking pleasurable thoughts (mainly involving the girls in lingerie) when I was in a good state, and when my state wavered I did maths problems in my head working out pace, rate, ratio of race remaining, energy decay curves etc. and congratulating myself on not having done any marking before the race in case I died, given that I wouldn't want to spend my last 48 hours on earth doing something so soul-destroying.

The first major landmark I remembered was the Cutty Sark, where the crowds really picked up.  I tried to run along the edges, so that I could see friendly faces and soak in their energy.  Some of the kids held out their palms to high five, which I did enthusiastically, until one cheeky little sod pulled his palm back and went "UNLUCKY!"  I was contemplating stopping and battering him to a pulp, but decided that the ensuing lawsuit probably wouldn't be worth it so carried on, and besides I didn't want to lose my rhythm.

The rain started at about twelve miles, which was a massive relief because it doesn't affect me and I thought it might give me a competitive edge.  As I turned the corner, Tower Bridge soared majestically ahead which was a massive boost because I knew that I was at the halfway point.  Gratifyingly, I hit halfway in 1:42:25, which was only seven minutes outside my half-marathon time from two years ago.

At this point it started f***** p***** it down for the want of better superlat-expletives...  It still felt like one of those really visceral moments, and was a good experience.  I began tiring at about the 16 mile mark, never experienced lactic acid or a stitch thank f*** but it was clear that I hadn't taken on enough carbs to make it through the race, having done in my one sachet at about the 12 mile mark.

Ran through Canary wharf, which was the part of the race I was looking forward to the second most.  I love the jaw-dropping height of the skyscrapers (well for London at least) however found that the emotional impact was draining and turning grey.  I was running out of steam, and agonisingly hungry.  However, I was incredulous to see that I hit the 20 mile mark in 2:30ish, which was the same as my last training run of that length (in fact, period) 6 weeks ago.  The outcome of that was shin splints, and they seemed to be the one part of me that weren't hurting at all!

Took on as much Lucozade as I dared, to try to distend my stomach without getting the dreaded hyponatremia (sic?).  This didn't help matters much, so started grabbing every handful of Jelly Babies I could, until finally at the 21 mile mark, one of the charity assistants had a spare gel pack which I literally demolished.  22 miles in and my muscles were spent.  6/7ths, 7/8ths, 4 miles to go, and past 35k meant f*** all to me at that point, I was in real exhaustion (although not agony, although my neck was locked solid and I kept pouring ice cold water down it to cool the joint) and slowed to a tottering jog.  Mile posts seemed to be hours apart.

The Gherkin was still a tiny speck away, and when I finally passed it, Westminister, which I had envisaged to be 'the latter half of the race' was also a fuzzy blob on the horizon.

Something wonderful happened when I hit the 25 mile mark, which my pace graph will testify.  http://tinyurl.com/3qzwop  I managed to speed back up to a c. 8 minute 30 mile pace for the last two miles, which was far in excess of what I thought possible.  The rapture as I ran up to the Houses of Parliament was indescribable.  I started trying to lift the crowd so that they would respond to me in any way they could.

Turning onto the Mall, I realised that I COULD DO THIS, and saw a man lengthen his stride and sprint next to me.  I knew from the route that the race ended round the corner from the mall so staved off till then.  Rounded the last corner and it still looked MILES away.  However, I saw the clock coming up to 3:40, so sure enough, I managed a sprint finish.  I don't think I've ever made a sound like the one I made when I crossed the finish line, and was very close to tears.

Thanks for reading this self-indulgent twaddle, and you'll be pleased/groaning to learn that I posted my online entry for 2009 on April 14th.  The day after.  I can do this again, and better.  Watch this space.  A massive thanks to everyone in the crowd on that day, to everyone that donated, and to the kind folks on Virgin Trains who let me travel back first class for no extra charge.  Snort, snort.

Best,

Rob
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