London Marathon Report

Once again I’ve been absent from this blog for too long.  I’ve just been too busy.  The only notable run prior to London marathon was on Sunday 14 April, the day after my last update, when Jo, Pia and I went for a nine mile run with 6 miles at our respective target marathon pace.  That day was the first proper warm day of the year, so we left a little later than normal to make the most of the heat.  It wasn’t exactly super warm, but warm enough for shorts and a vest, i.e. marathon kit.  It felt so good to be running in so little kit.  I told the girls I felt naked.  I think they were very relieved that I wasn’t. 

The day also tuned out to be incredibly windy.  We headed down to the river and then ran 3 miles eastwards with a slight wind on our backs.  The wind seemed to get stronger with every passing mile.  When it was time to turn around and run back the wind had really picked up, making any marathon pace training impossible.  It felt like a hard slog through treacle to get back to our starting point, where we all regrouped again and then continued back to the very start of our run at a conversational pace.

In the following week I got out for three shortish runs of about 5 miles, which were all run at target marathon pace.  I was feeling confident for the big day.

Jo and I headed to the marathon expo together last Friday.  I spotted my first celebrity at the expo in the form of marathon running Chef Michel Roux Jr.  I could tell Jo really wanted her photo taking with him, but someone else beat her to it and he seemed a little embarrassed by the attention, so we left him alone.

If only I had enough hair to warrant buying a head band!

We entered a few prize draws for marathons both near and far, including a multi stage event in Ireland, Valencia marathon, Loch Ness and a week long training camp on Lanzarote, so far I’ve not received any prize notifications.  I wonder if Jo has had any success.

We also gorged ourselves on every type of energy bar and protein bar that was on offer, and sampled numerous sports gels and sweets.  We left the expo with our numbers and timing chips safely in hand, and with our heads buzzing.  We stopped at the nearest café for a much needed sit down and cup of tea.

Afterwards, Jo headed back to Cambridge and I met up with Ruth, who had been in London for the day.  Ruth and I were staying for the weekend. 

First thing Saturday morning I laid out all my running kit and attached my number to my vest and my timing chip to one of my shoes.  I also attached the small black ribbon that we had all been asked to wear as a way to show our support and solidarity for those affected by the Boston marathon bombing earlier in the week.  I suspect every marathon runner around the world has been affected in some way by the Boston bombing.  It seems inconceivable why anyone would want to detonate bombs during a marathon.

Kit all present and correct.

With my kit all present and correct and feeling reassured that I hadn’t forgotten anything we headed out to do a couple of touristy things.  I visited Westminster Abbey for the first time, and I wondered what I’d need to do in order to be buried alongside Isaac Newton, Charles Darwin, Dickens, Tennyson and Olivier.  Sadly, I don’t think that will be my fate.  We also made a quick visit to the National Portrait Gallery to primarily see a temporary exhibition by the American artist George Caitlin, who painted a vast number of portraits of American Indians in the 1830s and 1840s to try and document what he feared were a race of people on the verge of extinction.  I can recommend it as a nice little detour for anyone visiting London over the next few months.

We went out for a typical Italian meal the night before a marathon and then off to bed early ready for the next day.

I left our hotel, which is close to Kings Cross Station, a little after 7.30am.  The streets seemed really quiet, but as soon as I headed underground to the tube I could see numerous runners carrying their red London marathon kit bag.   The number of runners swelled as we got closer to Charring Cross.  From here we had to get a train to Blackheath.  As usual, the train was absolutely packed as it left Charring Cross, but at each subsequent station a few more runners managed to squeeze onboard.  Those who were left on the platform seemed really panicked.  I wish I could have told them to just take it easy, we were all really early and the next train would arrive in less than 10 minutes.

I’m always amazed at how quiet a packed train can be on marathon morning.  We were all heading off to take part in the same event, but no one seemed willing to break the silence.  An outside observer might assume we were being sent off to face some terrible ordeal.  Come to think of it, maybe that isn’t far from the truth.

I always feel instantly excited as soon as I’m off the train and walking towards Blackheath Common.  It’s always fun looking out for the brave fools who are attempting to run in the most cumbersome costumes.  The T.V. coverage gives a false impression of how many people run in fancy dress.  The viewer could easily think that it is almost compulsory to run in a costume.  This isn’t the case, and this year I didn’t see too many costumes, a few fairies, one man dressed as a cockroach, two guys dressed as French onion sellers, one man dressed all in pink with an Indian head dress, a smurf and one man (I assume) in a gorilla outfit.  So nothing too outlandish, although I bet the gorilla regrets his choice.

Runners on Blackheath Common heading to the start zones.
Not a single fancy dress in sight.

I made myself to the privileged enclosure set aside for the Fast Good for Age entrants that is located at the very front of the red start.  Jo, Pia and Helle (an ex-Sweaty Betty) were all starting from a similar enclosure at the head of the blue start. 

I had over an hour to wait before the start of the marathon.  It was already a warm morning and many runners were lying out on the grass relaxing before the start.  I found a spot to chill and watch the clock count down.  I’m not really sure what I was thinking about in those last moments before the start of the marathon.  I didn’t feel nervous at all, as I’ve been in this situation many times before.  There isn’t any particular ritual that I feel I need to follow.  I did wonder how Jo and Pia were doing.  I hoped they had got to their start with plenty of time to spare. 

Chilling out before the start

Before it was time for my last trip to the loo I had a little walk around the enclosure to see if I could see anyone I recognised, which I didn’t.  I then started to get ready, remembering to grease the necessary areas with Vaseline and slap on some sun lotion.  I then handed my kit bag to the baggage lorry and made my way to the start about 25 minutes before we were due to start.  I found myself chatting to just one other runner, who like me was running in his fifth London marathon.

A few minutes before the race was due to start we were all asked to observe 30 seconds silence for the victims of the Boston marathon.  I don’t know why it was decided that 30 seconds was enough rather than the full 1 minute.  Anyway, everyone remained silent out of respect for those affected by the Boston bombing, and then cheered and clapped once the silence was ended to send a message to our Trans Atlantic running cousins.  It did all feel very poignant.  Just a few second later we were under starters’ orders, and then I was off for yet another run around the streets of London.

A few days after the event and it has all become a bit of a blur.  I remember seeing thousands of smiling faces cheering us on, and high fiving 100s of children lining the street.  I passed a man in a gorilla suit at 3 miles.  I wondered if it was the same one I’d seen on Blackheath Common and was amazed he’d been ahead of me for the first 3 miles.  He did look like he was struggling already as I passed him.  He was in for a very long, hot day.  I remember looking at my watch at 5 miles and realising I’d set off way to quick as I was over a minute ahead of my schedule.  I remember seeing Ruth at four out of five of her agreed viewing points: miles 9, 11, 18 and 21.  I passed a man in a mankini at about mile 23.  I think I actually speeded up to get past him, as it wasn’t a pretty sight to have just ahead of you.  I also saw one of my kettlebell clients on several occasions, although we never spoke.  He seemed too focused on the task to want to chat.  I ended up being just a few seconds ahead of him at the finish.  I also remember seeing Suzy and Teresa cheering on from their usual viewing point at miles 13.5 and 22.  I only saw one of the Sweaty Betties cheering on, and she was one of the Betties I wasn’t expecting to see.  Apparently the others did see me, but I didn’t hear them call my name.

I also remember feeling really, really good all the way up to Tower Bridge.  As soon as we turned the corner onto The Highway and passed the halfway marker I started to feel a little stiff legged.  This wasn’t good news.  I told myself it was all in my head and started to really focus on maintaining my pace.  From this point on there would be no waving to spectators who called out my name and no high fiving of the kids lining the streets.  This was when the work had to start for real, a little earlier than I’d like.  I maintained a good steady pace all the way to mile 19.  I then had one baddish mile and fell off my pace by about 30 seconds for the mile, not too bad.  I got back into the groove for miles 20 and 21.  Mile 22 was then another bad mile, almost a minute slower than my target pace.  At this point I started asking the usual questions.  Was I really doing this for fun?  Why did I feel I had to push myself for a time goal in London?  I started to think I wouldn’t break 3 hours and was almost resigned to just cruise to the finish line.  However, I decided I was being a wimp and I thought about having to tell people that I didn’t make sub-3 this year, and not really having a good enough reason for not doing so.  So I told myself to get it together and just focus on the last four miles.  I thought back to the four mile paced session we did along the river from Waterbeach to the Penny Ferry pub.  That was all I had left to do, just four measly miles.  So, I got back into the groove and managed to run the last 4 miles just a tiny bit slower than target pace to finish in 2 hours 57 minutes and 13 seconds.  

Of course, the crowds really helped to push me along for the last 3 miles.  The spectators on the Embankment and Birdcage Walk are always amazing.  My overriding memory from this year’s marathon will be of more spectators than ever who were also far more vocal than usual.  I had my name on my running vest and I was accompanied by an almost constant stream of people shouting out “go Alan”, “come on Alan”, or simply “Alan, Alan, Alan”, as I made my way around London.  Maybe I’m just fortunate to have a name that people like to chant!  It’s no wonder I missed lots of my friends.

After crossing the finish line I shouted out a loud “whoop”.  A few runners looked at me as if I was a nutter.  At least one other joined me for a celebratory scream.  I shook a few hands then did the slow, painful walk to collect my kit bag and to make my way to Horse Guards Parade.  I then sat down in the sun and waited for my friends.

Pia arrived sooner than had I expected, having finished her marathon in just under 3 hours 20 minutes, over 10 minutes quicker than her target time.  We didn’t have to wait too long for Jo to arrive with a big smile on her face.  Jo was just over a minute quicker than her target.  All-in-all it was a great day for the three of us, who have done almost all of our training together.  I must have got something right with my training plan this year! 

Happy runners at the end of the marathon

We waited for the arrival of a few other friends.  Some we met up with, and some we seemed to have missed.  After a short rest a group of us, which included a few of our spectators, headed off for food and to celebrate a great marathon?