Physio: "Hilary your knee is very
swollen. I don't think you should run the marathon"
Colleague: “Have you done a marathon before?”
Me, slightly sheepishly: “Only as part of an Ironman”
Ah, London marathon. I must have applied
every year since I joined the Tritons - 5 or 6 years, each time to get the
"sorry" letter through the post. Every year the Tritons also get a
place so I apply for that too. This year when my name came up it was a bit of a
surprise - I never win anything!
So after several months of irregular running
and the odd Parkrun I threw myself into a training plan. Three times a week,
quickly working up to 16km. The niggle in my knee started to niggle more than
ever. My piriformis became an issue again. Then came the discussion with the
physio about not doing the marathon. But it was my dream. I'd overdone it, and
had to rest. Then came the worst flu I'd had for a while. I was out for a
month.
Thus I had one month left to train, could I
still do this run? My coach friend Jim looked dubious but gave me a plan
anyway. I then had the interesting job of trying to fit in long runs around
conference season. I came home from Belfast on a Thursday night, ran 25km on
Friday, then Saturday morning I was off to Amsterdam at the crack of dawn! If
it wasn't for training I would have missed the most beautiful lake in Amsterdam
just as the sun was setting.
The days before the marathon were as manic as
usual but I managed to get my run number on Wednesday at the expo. Oh, I
thought, maybe I'll have a massage while I'm here. Thus proceeded one of the
most painful half hours of my life. He seemed concerned that I was very tight
and I'm not sure if he helped at all!
The day of the race dawned cold as they
predicted. I caught my bus and train to Blackheath and joined the crowds
walking to the start. Dropping off my bag I saw fellow Triton Julie and she
gave me a hug and wished me luck. I also saw Simon, a friend's husband who had
somehow jammily got into the marathon on his first ballot.
They'd instructed us to be there at least an
hour before we started so there was a lot of waiting around in the cold before
we could get started. Eventually I made my way to my zone just after a final
comfort break and found the 5:45 pacing team. Apparently pacing runners above
5h were a new thing this year as they discovered 30% of runners finished after
5 hours.
We got colder as we waited to start. My
fingers went white. We plodded towards the start gantry and we were on our way!
It was the weirdest thing running down the
middle of the road that I normally drive down. The crowds were out and
cheering. I instantly regretted not having my name on my top. Within about 10
minutes I'd decided to go ahead of the 5:45 pacers and run at a comfortable
speed. There were many signs, one of which read:
You're running slower
than Brexit
I thought that was a bit rude! There were
loads of kids with their arms held out so I gave many hi 5s at the start.
Spotting Stuart on my way past Woolwich, I gave him a hug and went on my way.
Thea had said the road from Woolwich to
Rotherhithe took forever but because it's a cycle route home for me it wasn't
that bad. I was very amused that the preacher from Woolwich town centre had decided to preach to us from the side of the road as we left Woolwich! I took water at every station I got to. I'd made super strength
Tailwind in my bottles and kind of regretted it because it didn't taste good.
There was a multitude of sweets on offer from the crowds with some people even
holding strawberry laces in the middle of the road! By Rotherhithe I'd almost
caught up with the 5h 30 pacers, I could see them in the distance. However, as
I got to the end of the Rotherhithe loop, the good old hip problems started to
kick in. I looked at the time and grabbed a couple of paracetamol. The pacers
disappeared into the distance.
You're running faster
than the government
We got to the stretch before Tower Bridge and
I was excited. I'd been told the Bridge was an experience, and I wasn't
disappointed. I felt very emotional with this wall of noise and cheering going
on around me. It was something else. Onwards and where was half way? Nicely
they'd put a sign saying Half way on the side of the road. 2h 44, I'll take
that. Tried to ignore the runners on the other side running the other way who
were many many miles in front of us. It was around this point I went past
Simon, but I wasn't sure if it was him and was focused on my own world of pain.
Down through the back of Canary wharf the first 5h 45 pacer came back past me.
I tried to keep up but I was just too tired to run that fast. I needed (or
wanted!) to walk. Then I saw him go to the urinal so thought maybe he was
pacing a bit faster!
I informed the ladies who didn't know where
we were that we were going through the Isle of Dogs and slowly but surely the
25 mile marker came up. Thea had said she was going to be around there, but I
couldn't see her. Then I remembered she'd be by Mudchute and there she was,
with her mother and my promised banana! Then a short while later I saw Alex,
Caroline and Rich and Lucy. They said I was running well so I pulled a face
that has now become my favourite photo!
Soon after the other 5h 45 pacer came past.
He was doing run/walk so I managed to keep up with him for a while longer, but
soon enough I was struggling to keep up. Through the crowds at Canary Wharf we
went and then onto what I reckon is the worst bit of the course, Blackwall. You
still have 10k left to go, everything hurts and it's not as popular. It was
around this point I switched my phone on to message and Bluetooth and sent a
message to the WhatsApp group tracking us. I got several messages telling me to
keep going which was very motivating!
I was pretty much hobbling by this stage, my
hip had seized up and the red 6h marker came past me. Once again I tried to
keep up but I just didn't have the speed. Through the back end of Wapping I
only had a vague idea where we were but it just never seemed to end. Where was
the Embankment? Several onlookers declared that my trousers were the best
they’d seen all day.
You’re running faster
than Brexit
(really? I thought I was
slower!)
We got to the final big
Lucozade aid station, the one with the weird Lucozade-filled algae pods. I
tried a couple but I wasn’t convinced by the algae pods so threw them down on
the ground. Every single Lucozade station was either really slippery afterwards
or really sticky (yuk!). Helen, one of my tall friends, was helping out at the
aid station and shouted at me and I gave her a hug.
On to the Embankment, and
the crowds started building again. It seemed to take forever to get from London
Bridge to Waterloo and I was definitely limping, someone even asked me if I was
OK. There was Waterloo and Thea and her mother again – thanks guys for your
support – and finally onto the home straight and Westminster. 1 km to go to the
end. The 6 h pacers came up behind me. Uh oh, I thought, I don’t want to go
above 6 hours. Better try to speed up. Somehow I managed to drag some speed out
of my poor aching body and I ran along St James’ Park, 600 m to go, 400 m to
go, turn the corner and there’s the Mall and the finish line! Straight across
the finish line and I am done! 5h 59! I was so happy to complete in under 6
hours.
It was the best weather to
do a marathon in. It was the best city to do a marathon in. My only regret is
not cutting my toenails before the race, so my right toe which is susceptible
to turning black did a right number on me and got a very bad toenail haematoma…
Would I do it again? Nah. I had to give up swimming and cycling for far too
long and thus I reckon my stand-alone marathon days are over. Probably.
