This update has been a long time coming, for which I apologise! It seems I have recaptured my social life with a vengeance, and I haven’t sat still for long enough to write anything since completing the marathon...no bad thing, but it means I am still feeling pretty tired!
The weekend of 26th April 2009 was all about the London Marathon...the one day that I’ve had six months of hard training building towards! Saturday was spent sitting quietly in my flat, the nerves and tension building as I crammed in the carbs and started to lay out my kit, trying to conserve as much energy as possible as it was all going to be needed the next day. It took a lot of hard work to calm myself down in the afternoon into a relaxed state, but I knew it was important to do so that I could get that last good sleep and wake up raring to go.
And finally, Sunday was here. The alarm went off at 6am and I started to get ready. I’d pinned my number onto my kit the day before, and attached the timing chip to my shoe. So, kit on, clean clothes packed, breakfast downed and I was on my way...too early for the tubes, I took a bus to Charing Cross and caught the next train to Maze Hill. I’m glad I chose to travel from Charing Cross and not further down the track as I got a seat and a bit of breathing room, unlike the poor people that squeezed on at London Bridge!
The day itself was incredible – the weather didn’t do as forecasted (cool and cloudy), and ended up being a perfect day for the spectators but an incredibly hot one for us runners. I am sure I broke out into a massive smile every time the sun went behind the clouds!
The volumes of people were huge, but the organisation was phenomenal. The trucks were lined up to take our bags, there were only small queues for the portaloos, and it was easy to get to where I was meant to be, ready to run the race of my life!
I managed to start running, and do good mile splits right from the moment my foot crossed the start line – which was just under 10 minutes from when the gun went off, but thankfully we were chip timed and not gun timed.
The support along the route was as good as everyone had said, and I got an extra boost every time someone called out my name to spur me on. The Serpie support on The Highway was great, as were my work colleagues, decked out in their orange and cheering loudly...and of course the several crowds of MS supporters were awesome too – especially the group in Canary Wharf, where things were starting to get pretty tough.
The run itself went really well for me, on the whole. The first half of the race, to Tower Bridge was enjoyable, relaxed and at a perfect pace, I was hugely enjoying myself and my face was the sorest bit of me from smiling so much! The next section from Tower Bridge to Canary Wharf also went well and it was at the bottom of the Isle of Dogs that I passed a colleague and team mate who I didn’t expect to see at all (I thought I’d be chasing his heels all the way to the finish). He was really struggling with the unpredicted heat, and it was slowing him down much more than expected.
I ploughed on through Canary Wharf and headed back towards The Highway, and this is where things started to get really tough. Mentally, I was doing great. The energy levels were high, I was still smiling. From the hips up, I was awesome, from the knees down things were tickety-boo, but that bit in the middle – the quads – were starting to seriously struggle.
The rest of the race became a game of mind over matter. I knew that if I slowed down or walked, I’d never get moving again, so I kept running just as fast as I could. I know I can run 10kms, I’m less than an hour from the end, I know I can run 5 miles, I’m less than 45 minutes from the end, I know I can run 4 miles, I’m only 40 minutes from finishing, I know I can run 5kms, I just have half an hour to go... and on I went.
Finally the end was in sight. Past Big Ben and into Birdcage walk I went, almost at walking pace now. There was no sprint finish...there was no final burst of energy...there was just me, crossing the finish line, still moving...just.
And my time?
03:48:47
I had done it. I had finished. I had kept running for 26.2 miles. And I’d done it well.
The weekend of 26th April 2009 was all about the London Marathon...the one day that I’ve had six months of hard training building towards! Saturday was spent sitting quietly in my flat, the nerves and tension building as I crammed in the carbs and started to lay out my kit, trying to conserve as much energy as possible as it was all going to be needed the next day. It took a lot of hard work to calm myself down in the afternoon into a relaxed state, but I knew it was important to do so that I could get that last good sleep and wake up raring to go.
And finally, Sunday was here. The alarm went off at 6am and I started to get ready. I’d pinned my number onto my kit the day before, and attached the timing chip to my shoe. So, kit on, clean clothes packed, breakfast downed and I was on my way...too early for the tubes, I took a bus to Charing Cross and caught the next train to Maze Hill. I’m glad I chose to travel from Charing Cross and not further down the track as I got a seat and a bit of breathing room, unlike the poor people that squeezed on at London Bridge!
The day itself was incredible – the weather didn’t do as forecasted (cool and cloudy), and ended up being a perfect day for the spectators but an incredibly hot one for us runners. I am sure I broke out into a massive smile every time the sun went behind the clouds!
The volumes of people were huge, but the organisation was phenomenal. The trucks were lined up to take our bags, there were only small queues for the portaloos, and it was easy to get to where I was meant to be, ready to run the race of my life!
I managed to start running, and do good mile splits right from the moment my foot crossed the start line – which was just under 10 minutes from when the gun went off, but thankfully we were chip timed and not gun timed.
The support along the route was as good as everyone had said, and I got an extra boost every time someone called out my name to spur me on. The Serpie support on The Highway was great, as were my work colleagues, decked out in their orange and cheering loudly...and of course the several crowds of MS supporters were awesome too – especially the group in Canary Wharf, where things were starting to get pretty tough.
The run itself went really well for me, on the whole. The first half of the race, to Tower Bridge was enjoyable, relaxed and at a perfect pace, I was hugely enjoying myself and my face was the sorest bit of me from smiling so much! The next section from Tower Bridge to Canary Wharf also went well and it was at the bottom of the Isle of Dogs that I passed a colleague and team mate who I didn’t expect to see at all (I thought I’d be chasing his heels all the way to the finish). He was really struggling with the unpredicted heat, and it was slowing him down much more than expected.
I ploughed on through Canary Wharf and headed back towards The Highway, and this is where things started to get really tough. Mentally, I was doing great. The energy levels were high, I was still smiling. From the hips up, I was awesome, from the knees down things were tickety-boo, but that bit in the middle – the quads – were starting to seriously struggle.
The rest of the race became a game of mind over matter. I knew that if I slowed down or walked, I’d never get moving again, so I kept running just as fast as I could. I know I can run 10kms, I’m less than an hour from the end, I know I can run 5 miles, I’m less than 45 minutes from the end, I know I can run 4 miles, I’m only 40 minutes from finishing, I know I can run 5kms, I just have half an hour to go... and on I went.
Finally the end was in sight. Past Big Ben and into Birdcage walk I went, almost at walking pace now. There was no sprint finish...there was no final burst of energy...there was just me, crossing the finish line, still moving...just.
And my time?
03:48:47
I had done it. I had finished. I had kept running for 26.2 miles. And I’d done it well.
My initial thoughts were truly mixed. I broke the four hour goal convincingly, and in the process took one hour and twenty minutes off my previous personal best...but I missed out on the good for age time of 03:45:00 by less than four minutes. I hadn’t had the negative split I’d wanted to run (that is, to run the second half of the race faster than the first half), and my legs, which I’d trained pretty hard, had let me down a bit on the big day.
But, on reflection, I am hugely pleased and proud of my effort. I kept going, I didn’t stop, and I achieved a fantastic goal.
After I’d had a wander around and calmed down a bit, I headed across to the MS hospitality area on Birdcage walk and got a well needed massage... except to get this massage meant going up stairs! That was the beginning of finding out just how knackered my legs were.
The next two days were far worse though, with stairs being pretty much impossible, and my legs buckling at any given opportunity. But another massage and lots of stretching meant I was on the mend pretty quick, and ten days later I was up and running again!
Since finishing the marathon and recovering, I’ve run two races in really good times, finally made it around Richmond Park (12kms) in comfortably under an hour AND entered Berlin marathon for later in the year – this time the good for age time isn’t going to elude me!
Thank you to everyone who supported me in so many ways and helped me achieve a great marathon goal and raise lots of money for MS.
Keep on running – I know I am!
