On the Line at London

Several posts ago, I put it out there that I was going to aim high at London Marathon. I decided it was realistic, if a little ambitious, to aim for under four hours.

I didn't manage it. In fact, I was nowhere near at 4.31.11. And immediately afterwards I was so, so disappointed and also a little embarrassed that I was so far off target. Was I that out of touch with my running abilities? I even concluded at one point that it was time to hang up my trainers for good.

A week later, and with the help of some no nonsense friends, I'm able to put it into perspective. I did manage to get a marathon PB of over four minutes, and despite the times I moaned about the training - so tired..no time for anything else...the list goes on - I have genuinely enjoyed the last 15 weeks, and I have achieved things I never thought were possible, including PB's at every distance (except 5k), and also a marathon PB.  I have loved those tortuous nights at the track, the circuit sessions, the long runs and the resulting buzz of knowing I'm improving. Oh, and most of all, the friends I've met along the way.

So, what happened last Sunday?

 I struggled. And it's pretty accurate to say that this was the case from start to finish. We set off from Greenwich just before 10am, and I managed to run the first three miles with Karen. I'd got a pace band for four hours from the Expo and had decided to ignore the mile timings and concentrate on each 5k so if I ran over time on a mile, I'd have a few miles to make it up. What I hadn't accounted for was just how hard it is to get a pace going at London at any point. It was so crowded that I kept losing sight of Karen, and after a run in with a human caterpillar just before the three mile marker, I never saw her again.

It was clear fairly soon in that I didn't have a chance of making my target. At each marker, it just slipped further away, and I didn't really have a Plan B so I just kept chugging on wondering why I was finding it so hard. Too many tutus, I concluded at mile 12.

Fab supporters

Usually, I love races where there's loads of support and fanfare, and I don't think you can get better than London for this but somehow, it all proved to be a bit too much for me, and I felt desperate for just a patch of quiet space to pull myself (and my running) together again. I did have tremendous support from friends and family throughout the marathon though, and I must admit the thought of seeing people at various stages was such a boost, and forced me to make sure I at least didn't look like I was struggling. I spotted my mum and sister at mile eight waving frantically, and then just past mile 10 I had the lovely surprise of seeing my friends, Kate and Nick in some specially made t-shirts (see left), which really made me smile.

At mile 15, I saw lots of people I know again, including Helen and Don from club who were leaning over a bridge waving frantically. At mile 18, I passed the hotel we were staying in at Canary Wharf where loads of supporters from club were cheering which was great. I somehow missed the mile 19 marker, and so before I knew it I was at mile 20. Here, I somehow managed to get a second wind. Perhaps it was the thought of only 10k left to run of this painful race!

Those last six miles seemed to go fairly quickly, and before I knew it, I was running up the Mall. Apparently, so much 'in the zone' that I ran past both friends and family at miles 23 and 25 without seeing them at all. Never have I been so happy to see a sign saying 800 metres to go, telling myself 'two laps of the track, it's nothing you can do it' - yes, there was a lot of talking to myself during this race - then 600 metres, then 375 metres and then I'd done it. Such relief as my feet touched the timing pads at the finish line.

Meeting up with family

It's such a strange feeling finishing a marathon. My body's not quite sure whether it can stop running now, and I think it takes a good quarter of an hour for my brain to register that I've done it. In a daze, I remembered the Marathon Talk advice to keep moving, so I kept walking. I'd arranged to meet family and friends at the A-Z meeting area, cursing that I am a W and, therefore, the furthest away I kept going until I finally found James and burst into tears of relief that the whole thing was over. Pulled myself together for a few photos and headed back to the hotel as we were heading home that evening.

Smiling now it's over

I watched the highlights of the London Marathon on the BBC iPlayer the following day, and only then did it hit me what a major event I'd been privileged to take part in, and that, despite not reaching my goal, I hadn't done too badly at all. I've also raised a total of £746 for the British Heart Foundation so I guess it was worth every step.

So, will I ever do another marathon? I'm not sure. Will I ever run again? Of course I will. I'll just be sticking to shorter races. There's still a 5k PB to get.