The London Marathon is truly one of the greatest races of all time. I’m a person who loves a challenge and I certainly love an adventure and my race yesterday was certainly that.
The first half of the race was fine. At the halfway point I thought I’d pick it up a bit. I was feeling great so why not? Then Mile 17 came. My stomach - full of sickly-sweet sports drink and sports candy - got caught up in a wave of nausea and I made a quick dash for the next set of toilets. At that point I knew my chances of hitting my time target were out the window but what can you do? Just jog along and enjoy it.
It wasn’t easy to get my legs going again but once I did, the experience totally changed for me. I ran past a bottle of London Pride, chased a banana and got overtaken by Sherlock Holmes! I talked to people, patted them on the back; people encouraged me when I stopped to walk and I encouraged them. London became a melting pot of human kindness and that was the best place to be - all of us putting our bodies through hell but for a good cause!
To the amazing runners I met along the way - well done! To the soldiers running with 26lbs on your back – I salute you. And to those who fought illness hard to be there I honour you for your courage.
The war wounds are worth it and lessons were learned. Putting on my pyjamas took as long as my last mile (long). The skill of picking things up with your toes is a blessing - if you can’t just be sure not to drop anything! I inherited my first black toenail (which kind of makes me feel like a tough guy) but the bling of the medal just makes all of that fade and has put the silliest grin on my face.
I will take 4:28:17 for my first marathon, thank you very much!
I will take pride in the knowledge that I’m 0.1% of the population that completes a marathon in their lifetime. And I will always remember the day I started my journey leaving my flat alone but ended it with well more then 36,000 people.
Now to put my feet up and rest - ahhh!