London Marathon 2013

A beautiful morning for a run.

I had a little bit of a reality check the night before the marathon. It started to dawn on me that I could potentially be walking a long way the following day. Sue,who's always supported me in my shenanigans was openly concerned about my decision to run. I do tend to be too impulsive at times, and deciding only six days before to do the London Marathon and with only 4 x 40 minute runs in the proceeding 8 weeks, this was taking my impulsivity quite far. I had made the decision with the best of intentions and it was made firmly with my heart and not my head, but as it drew nearer I was getting a bit concerned with how things could pan out. My stock answer when questioned on things like this is "I know my own body." Which I do. And I knew that my back was healed but I didn't know whether it would stand the stress of 26 miles on the pavement. It would just be a case of giving it my best shot and believing everything would be OK.

On the Saturday night I got to bed early but I found myself awake at 1am, staring at the ceiling worrying about it and I didn't really get back to sleep. With some relief I found myself getting up at my six o' clock alarm to start fuelling. Sue and the kids got me to Wimbledon Station and despite South West Trains doing some major engineering works I found myself at Greenwich in under an hour, with plenty of time to kick back and relax. I ended up using the loos three times, mainly through nerves rather than over-hydration.

Hedging my bets; which pace band to use?

I should point out that when I filled in the application form I gave my estimated time as 3.10, which at that time in January was looking really good. Therefore I found myself in pen 2, right at the front of approximately 17,000 runners on the red start. Yikes.  After the thirty seconds' silence which was very moving, everyone walked forward to the start while I did my best to let as many people overtake me as possible in order that I would be with runners more around a sustainable pace for me, not that I knew what that was. I crossed the mat, hit the start button on my Garmin and mentally crossed fingers that everything would be ok.

Two, very obvious things helped. The weather and the crowd. At the start the weather was perfect with a beautiful blue sky and a cool breeze. Once again, the first six miles to the Cutty Sark went

by in a flash, with lots of drum and bass, drum bands and spectators cheering us on the way. My one and only "Oh s##t" moment came when I passed under the 5 mile banner, realising that I was now doing my longest run in two months and I still had 21 miles to go. I just pushed that to the back of my mind and carried

on taking my mind off things by making a conscious effort to look around and take in as much of the atmosphere as possible, hi-fiving as many kids as possible and enjoying the day. While my legs were playing ball I was going to enjoy myself.

As we reached halfway in around 1.40 I found myself running next to Iwan Thomas and almost simultaneously gave Denise Lewis a big shout who dutifully waved back. Two Olympians for the price of one. The crowds here were phenomenal at four or five deep all shouting and cheering us on, well Iwan on, but hey I could soak up some of it too.

I had been checking off the distance in 5 mile chunks and as I went through 15 miles I was feeling really good and pretty pleased with myself. So far, the wheels were still firmly in place and my pace was still around 8.05-8.10 minute miles. Through miles 16, 17, 18 and 19 all was still well and I started to think about upping my pace a bit. This idea was quickly put into check as I approached to 20 mile banner and within the space of half a mile I went from feeling quite bouncy to absolute no bounce at all. Ok, time for the mental games to begin. Six miles to go, that's a lap of Richmond Park, that's all. It was now that the crowds really helped, constantly encouraging, cajoling, shouting, cheering. It really was a very special thing to be a part of. And it was at this point that something really strange happened.

A few weeks ago I wrote this post about being beaten by a man dressed as a banana in 2008, and how disappointed I was that I, a 'serious' runner should face such ignominy. At 20 miles I heard the crowd shouting "Go on Bananaman." I looked round and there was a bloke dressed in a full bananaman costume. I couldn't believe it. He was really suffering but he was holding a great pace considering how hot he was. For the next six miles we swapped places although he would have gone past me comfortably if it was not for the fact that he was interviewed by Colin Jackson at the side of the road.

Those last six miles were just about keeping my steady shuffle going and not getting phased by how rugged I was feeling. Although I had been taking on fluids regularly I think my dip had a lot to do with overheating. AT 23 miles something had to give and it was a double whammy with both my hamstrings tightening up, which immediately brought me to a halt. It turned out that was the best thing that could have happened. I walked hard for a minute and used this time to eat a few jelly babies and have some water. I felt better straight away and I was able to resume my shuffle to the finish, being steadily chased down by bananman. I think I beat him by a metre or so on the line but I took the opportunity  to say well done to him as we walked through the funnel; to say I was impressed would be an understatement. I had no qualms about being beaten by him.

My final time was 3:45:26, my slowest marathon to date, but it was never about the time, it was about the finish.

My slowest marathon but my best one, by a very long way. #RunForBoston