Getting to the start line - the hard part
Since I had taken up running in 2004, I always had in mind
that I wanted to run “the big one”, the marathon. Years of watching the London
Marathon on the telly, I had always thought that was something for the
super-fit and the very thought I could complete it didn’t even register, it
seemed absolutely ludicrous that I would even think it would be possible.
I completed my first ever half marathon (Windsor Half) in
2004, which I had entered as a bet after too many beers. I had crossed the
finish line absolutely exhausted, feeling a bit dizzy and drained. I wondered
at the time how on earth anyone could run two of those things back-to-back. I
could never do it, I thought at the time.
Come the next spring, and with some encouragement from my friends Matt
and Vicky, I enthusiastically entered the ballot in 2005 for the Flora London
marathon the next year. The number of people crazy enough to want to run London
Marathon vastly outstrips the available 17,000 places, so much so that they
operate a ballot. Names for the race are “drawn from a hat”. Although there
isn’t a hat and you wonder if it is truly random. And to make it even worse, they make you wait
for a very long time till you find out if you have, notifying you with an
acceptance or a rejection magazine in October.
Where's my bloody magazine!
So come October I was eagerly waiting for the postman to
arrive, however what a surprise, a rejection magazine thudded onto the doormat.
I have to say I was a bit relieved that I didn’t have to do the training, but
disappointed to miss out. And so began a long string of rejections… again my
doormat thudded with rejections in 2006, 2007, 2008 and 2009. Finally in 2010 I
got the news I had wanted, I had secured a place in the 2011 race. This was on
the rule of after 5 unsuccessful attempts, you were guaranteed to get in on the
6th. It was on! No going back now, I hadn’t waited for six years to
wuss out now I had one of the coveted places.
I thumbed through my running book which had a list of plans,
picked the beginners plan – my
I decided that as I had a ballot place to use the opportunitly to raise money for "Mind", a charity close to my heart. I contacted the charity and they were delighted, I even got a snazzy vest with my name on it! I kept the form on my desk at work and "mugged" everyone who came round to ask me questions, haha.
Expo
On the Friday before race day, I headed over to the expo at London's ExCel centre to collect my race number. I had to show my driving license - they insist on seeing a mug shot to make sure it's actually you running! I had a wander around the expo and picked up a few freebies and chatted to a few folks on the stands.
There was a giant wall where you could write messages of encouragement to runners, which I of course did! The place was fairly packed, and I used this as a good excuse to meet my friend Russell for a pre-marathon "carb loading" of curry.
Race day
It was race day. Sunday 17th April 2011. I set off from home to catch the 06.30
train, by now pretty much freaking out about the race and feeling extremely nervous. What if I twisted my ankle on the way
there? What if the train broke down? What if I need the loo mid run and there
was a huge queue? What if I blew up at mile 18 and had to walk? What if aliens invaded? What if zombies… oh for heaven’s
sake. I gave myself a bit of a talking to and relaxed. The train was absolutely
packed with fellow runners and their families. The guard came on the tannoy and
wished us all good luck. “I managed 3 hours 30 minutes last year, but got bored
and switched over to Hollyoaks”. Boom boom.
We arrived at Waterloo station and I made my way up the staircase to Waterloo East,
getting the Blackheath train. Probably the first and only free train journey
I’d ever taken! Despite the warnings of doom and gloom of huge queues and stress, it was deserted and I
even got a seat.
As I came out of Blackheath station it was a glorious day, although it was a bit misty which was hiding the sun. Dare I say, it was pleasant. Hang on
this is April in England – what gives? You could feel the air of excitement and
tension in the air as I walked up the hill from the station over to Blackheath
Common, and made my way to the “blue” start. They split the start into 3 zones
– red, blue and green – to manage the sheer number of runners. I had to show my race number (already pinned
to my vest) to enter the blue zone, and I was in. It was starting to feel very
real now. I tucked into the marmalade sandwiches I had bought with me (doing my
bit for Paddington Bear) and downed some energy drink. There was a huge screen
showing the BBC coverage and some shots of the crowds, and in the distance
could hot air balloons over by the start line.
Before too much longer it was time to make the final
preparations. I dropped off my kit bag at the baggage lorry and put on my DIY
poncho (bin bag with a hole punched through it!). Once my bag had gone, it felt
like the point of no return – to get my bag back, I’d need to run 26.2 miles to
the Mall. Nerves got worse and I tried to distract myself with a little wander
around. Before I knew it I entered my start
coral, number 8. These were all roped off and a lady was allowing us in, making
sure we’d didn’t jump ahead. Higher numbers means you are going slower. I
chatted a bit to fellow runners, all nervous, and exchanged a bit of light
hearted banter. Suddenly we heard the start horn sounding in the distance – it
was finally 10 o’clock, and a massive cheer went round. I ripped off the bin
bag poncho – sadly nothing like superman. And we went precisely … nowhere.
There are so many runners to get over the start line that it takes what seems
like forever to even start walking, let alone get running.
Off we go
Eventually we shuffled along, turned the corner into the A2
and the into Shooter’s Hill Road, and then we were off! I ran across the
starting timing mat, started my watch and yes! I was running the London
marathon. I can remember that first mile, a sea of runners stretching into the
distance, brightly coloured vests, heads bobbing about, legs moving, all
determined to get up to 26.2 miles. It was an awesome sight and one I will
never forget, you just don’t get a sense of scale from seeing it on the TV.
The first three miles were fairly quiet and a few people
were standing around giving encouragement. We headed up towards the Thames up
to Woolwich and then a sharp left turn where the crowds by now had started to
build. The blue, red, and green runners all suddenly converged and there was
much banter shouted between the different groups, this petered out and we got
on with the “serious business” of running.
We now headed west towards Greenwich, past Maze Hill
station. Back on our left was Blackheath where we had waited to start –
although only a few miles in it seemed like an age ago. On my right was the
Royal Greenwich Observatory which was a fabulous building. We ran past Cutty
Sark, which was closed off for renovations so we didn’t get to run around it.
This was where the crowds really built up, the noise was just incredible, I
could barely hear myself think. Little did I realise it was going to be like
this for almost the entire rest of the run.
As we went round Surrey Quays (it’s nowhere near Surrey!
What gives!), I realised that the temperature was getting really hot – the sun
was out full blaze, and I so took lots of drink on board. They had drink
stations every single mile so it was such a relief not to worry about getting
dehydrated. I also tried to run in the shade where I could.
Tower Bridge into the Isle of Dogs
I looked at my watch and I had hit nearly 11 miles already.
I hadn’t stopped once, my pace was nice and consistent, banging out around
10-10:30 min/miles. We suddenly took a right turn and right up in front of me
was Tower Bridge. Running across it was amazing, the roar from the crowds
deafening, I could see the BBC presenters interviewing runners and lots of TV
cameras so we all waved. We left the
Tower and took a right turn, by now my legs were starting to feel a bit tired
and I was feeling the heat. I felt a bit dizzy so I downed an energy gel and
ate a handful of jelly babies (not easy when you are gasping for air!). I had
started the dreaded loop into Canary Wharf.
Coming the other way were the faster runners who by now were
at their mile 20, the look on their faces was one of sheer determination and
concentration – they were fast but it didn’t look like they were having a great
time. I’d always heard that the Isle of Dogs and Canary Wharf were supposed to
be quiet sections of the course, and difficult. This didn’t seem to the be the
case for me, the crowds remained 3 or 4 deep and the noise unbelievable.
Although I was now really tired I kept going. I was determined not to stop and
just to keep running. I saw a giant video wall of all the runners waving and
coming past that was amazing.
We weaved around the city of London and there
were lots of twists and turns, but it kept it interesting. By now I was back
heading towards Tower Bridge and passing the really slow people on the other
side (at the tail end) – most of whom were walking and who looked pretty fed
up. I picked up some gels at and aid station and laughed about how sticky the
ground was from left over gel – as if running wasn’t hard enough! This seemed
to give me the necessary shot of energy and on I went.
Six miles to go
I turned left and now I was on the Victoria Embankment,
passing the Tower of London again. I passed the 20 mile mark and I knew I just
had to hold on for six more miles, “just a lunchtime run left”. Who was I
kidding! A lot of my fellow runners were now worse for wear, the heat had gone
them and exhaustion and were walking. It was quite good to just gently plod
past the lot of them – revenge for them going out too fast at the start! Haha!
On I went with the Thames to the left of me, just digging in
and counting up the miles. Each mile was getting harder and harder and needed
more effort, I scoffed more jelly babies and it got easier for a bit. The legs were screaming out for me to stop,
my head just said STOP and have a cup of tea, but I ignored the protests from
my body and kept going. The crowds had increased and were going crazy with
encouragement, I doubt I could have walked – the crowds wouldn’t let you! By
mile 23 I had reached the Blackfriars underpass, this had a huge sign up
“Lucozade – YES”. This was a small section of course that went through a tunnel
and so no crowds. It was eerily quiet as we entered the tunnel, as the runners
huffed, puffed and shuffled along. A little bit further in and well away from
the crowds, I’ve never seen such human misery… people lying on the floor in
agony, others crying or walking, folks stretching, people going for a wee
against the side of the tunnel… some standing around chatting… not me, I just
kept going.
Into the finish
The tunnel at last ended, those around me started to run again. By
now I could see Big Ben right in front of me and the London Eye to my left.
This race was in the bag, I just had 2 miles left. It was getting harder and
harder, I felt really tired by now and I had run a very, very, long way. I just
focused on putting one foot in front of the other and reaching Big Ben. Which
seemed to rapidly approach, then we turned right and pass the houses of
parliament and down birdcage walk.
I passed mile 25… yes… even if I walked/crawled/rolled I would finish! It should have been glorious but it just felt a massive slog by now. A man at and aid station said “well done Jon, you’re looking strong”. This was the shot in the arm I needed, I could have hugged him (but I’m a bloke and we don’t do that!) My resolve returned . I had trained for months for this day and I wasn’t going to let anything ruin it. I resisted the very strong urge to start walking, and I kept running. “800 METERS TO GO” the sign screamed. My legs felt very heavy and suddenly what was 2 laps of a track and half a mile felt a very, very long way. On I went. After what felt about 2 hours of running I saw “400 METERS!” I muttered very strong language at the sign. I had passed Buckingham Palace but didn’t even notice it, I was so “in the zone”. Suddenly a right turn into the Mall, and I could see all the union jack flags up. A little zig-zag, and now I could see the three finish funnels with the timing clocks above them! I couldn’t believe it, I had finally made it.
I picked the middle funnel and jogged to the finish.
There were stands for the crowds on either side cheering us in, it felt
wonderful for those last meters. I crossed the line in what I thought was quite
a respectable 4 hours and 43 minutes. I felt totally elated as a very nice lady
hung the finishers medal on me. I was invited to step up and they cut off the
timing chip from my shoe. I was given a goody bag and a finishers mug shot
taken. I collected my bag from the baggage lorry and was done!
Never again, I
said to myself, never again. A few days later I totted up the amount I had raised for Mind - nearly £700. It was all worth it.
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