It was kind of strange, the days leading up to the race I swung between nervousness and calm. I knew the big day was coming up, but at the same time it still felt forever away. I didn’t sleep the night before. But that was alright. I knew that was coming. It would mean that I wouldn’t miss my alarm come morning.
Getting up to the start was nice and easy. A train to London and then follow the runner to the train to take us to the Blackheath Blue Start. It was a chilly morning, many of the runners were wrapped up warm in layers of clothing, plastic bags or foil capes. I happily ate my porridge while waiting for other Team SpecialEffect members to appear. Dave was easy to find. I knew roughly when his train was coming in and simply stood by the gate waiting. Nick on the other hand, was a little more difficult to locate. But locate him we did. After a final trip to the loos, we headed to the starting pens.
And waited. Seriously guys, don’t worry if you’re in one of the further pens. I’ve always started in the final pen and twice I’ve started right at the back. At the end of the day, we all have the same distance to run.
When we did finally start walking towards that starting line, I had a huge grin on my face. I know I had 26.2 miles to run, but just getting to that start line was thrilling. Over the line I went, clicked on the Garmin and began my run. I watched both Nick and Dave disappear into the crowds after we set off. I’m a slow runner and I knew what pace I was supposed to be going at, so that was okay. I had a plan and I was trying my best to stick to it.
Early on in the race I got to run past the team with the guy in the big dinosaur. I wish I’d been able to have taken a picture with them behind me, it would have been great! But I’ll settle for running next to them for a bit. It wasn’t long after that that I got to see part of my race support group, my wonderful Sister and her awesome boyfriend had come out to cheer me on. Huge grin and a wave and I was past them wondering where they would turn up next. I ran past Team Stiletto next I think. That’s the lady that was running in 3inch high heels. I went up to say hi and to give her a little fist bump. Marathons are tough enough without adding heels into the equation. I think it was around this time I spotted the other half of my race support team. My Dad had also come up to cheer me on. Now, I’ll say this for both my Sister and my Dad. Even though I didn’t really know where about on the course they would be (my Sis had given me a rough idea where she was heading to, but my Dad was a wildcard), they managed to appear at three different places each throughout the course. I only failed to spot my Sis once and my Dad had somehow managed not only to see me, but in the cases where he was next to the road he managed to pick the side I’d be on as well. He’s a race support wizard, I swear. My Sis is awesome as well and she always bring me extra gels.
I was going fine up until the halfway point. My training had been a bit rough this year. My longest run was about 12.5miles, so anything after that was going to be interesting. I wasn’t doing too badly. My pace had dropped a little and a bathroom break had made something of a dent in the 5:30 time I was aiming for. It was around the 18 mile mark that I started having some proper issues. I had what felt like a golf ball sized knot of cramp in my right calf muscle. I was stopping and starting, trying to stretch it out. I ended up stopping at a St. John Ambulance bay, where a very nice gentleman gave my calf muscle a quick massage. With a quick walk after the massage, the calf muscle was working enough for me to start running again. Sort of.
In the last two marathons I had a hard time come miles 16-20ish, so I knew when I was getting into my tough sections. The calf muscle certainly had not helped through that later part. I saw my target time of 5:30 time slip further away. Although I was a little disappointed, I let it go. I was going to enjoy this run. The crowds were still amazing, all the more so for the amount that had jelly sweets and the sweet joy of fresh orange slices. Both times I ran Brighton I wasn’t quick enough to get them. I would always run past long after they had been eaten by the quicker runners. This time however I was able to nab a good few slices and I swear, nothing tastes as good as fresh fruit after you’ve been running for 4+ hours.
The final push was going down Embankment. There wasn’t long left to go (two miles? I can run two miles, I’ve run lots of two miles, two miles is nothing). Soon I was up to the yards left signage, 800 to go, 600 to go. I checked my watch. I was still under my PB. Head down, keep going, not long now.
My Dad was on the side of the road again, snapping pics and giving words of encouragement. Then the turning past Buckingham Palace. After that corner was the finish line. That finish line. I’d decided weeks ago that I was going through the middle arch. I know they wanted us to go hand in hand, and if I’d been thinking straight I might have gone to grab someones hand, but after 5 and a half hours plus of running the only thing going through my head was “bring me that finish line”. I managed to speed up a tiny touch. I always manage to find that last bit of energy, that last sprint to get over the line.
Arms up in triumph I crossed that finish line, then stop the Garmin, finally stagger forward to gratefully receive my medal. I earned that medal, it was mine. A quick photo, an official finish one. Might not buy it, but it’s nice to have the choice. I’m given a goodie bag and then I slowly get to the baggage lorry’s. Before I’d gotten to the lorry with my bag, the volunteer was already handing it over the barrier to me. I continued out to the runner meeting point C, where my Dad was waiting and after a little while my Sis and Sid joined us. And slowly we walked (and I hobbled) towards home. The Facebook auto-posting thing confirmed my new PB of 5.47:02. Just under 2 minutes off last years PB.
Okay, that was quite a long post, so if you’re still here, well done! If you’ve just scrolled down to the end, TL:DR, I ran the London Marathon, it was awesome, I got fat loot and a new PB.
I’m very happy with how the race turned out. I may not have gotten the time I was aiming for, but for all the issues that I did have in training and on the day, I still managed another PB. It was an amazing day. The volunteers were top notch, the crowds were simply great, the atmosphere was electric. 11/10, would run again.