If you've never experienced the London marathon as either a spectator or competitor I heartily recommend it. The enthusiasm, diversity and sheer mass of people make it one of those things you never forget. At the head of the race are the real athletes. At the back the wierd and wonderful. In the middle the rest of us all running for some cause or someone special.Never believe anyone who says they won't have another go, as given the opportunity it is probably not true.
My journey to this years marathon began nearly two years ago when I entered the ballot for the 2012 marathon and was successful. Unfortunately with everything else going on I knew that it was a bridge too far and I decided that the best course would be to defer in the hopes that I would be able to fit it in this year. So back in September 2012 I started running again. Some time in early October I did something to my right knee and I had to stop running until January. In the past I've always liked to make sure I am running at least 20/25 miles a week before I start to train properly. So I was apprehensive in January and took the decision just to make it my goal to finish, run the whole way and enjoy the whole process. Setting a target means that there is a tendency to focus too much on that and loose perspective of the whole.
This time I have very much tried to train by feel, making sure that I do my long run in once a week and then see how I things are before I decide how much other running I would do. I've also tried to rely on cycling in between to make sure I preserve my knees as much as possible.
It's been an eventful lead up. Most of my runs have been done in sub zero temperatures. I think the lowest was -10C. Two or three have been in the middle of snow storms. My longest of 22.5 miles on Easter Saturday, was very cold with the occasional bout of snow driving into my face. Not a run to be forgotten.
By the time the big weekend came I was feeling relaxed. Maybe too relaxed. I texted the following in to Chris Evans breakfast show early on Friday "Good morning Chris. Can you say hello to all the london marathon runners who are bursting with energy and looking forward to supporting their charities. James. Running for Special Olympics GB"
Bingo! At around 7:10 as I was driving into Cambridge I hear my words and my sense of excitement increased as something inside me knew that the following three days would be very good.
Ordinarily I would have refrained from drinking for at least two or three weeks before. Not so this time. Life is too short and I had some nice red and fizz on Friday evening vowing to make saturday my day of abstience.
In my relaxed state I set off to London checking things such as shoes, shorts and running shirt before leaving. Everything seemed to be going well until the I arrived at the Excel centre when I had a sudden sinking feeling as I realised that my registration form and sun cream were still in my kitchen two hours away. I kept telling myself that it would be ok and someone would find a way round the problem. But inside there was another voice saying the opposite and my anxiety increased. What was I going to tell everyone? I'd trained for four months and failed at the last hurdle simply because I'd left my registration form at home. What a bozo! Fortunately the inner voice was wrong and the organisers had anticipated my relaxed state and were so nice and sorted things out within a few minutes.
There is a myriad of people starting to focus on the task ahead. For some like me that is a simple matter of taking off outer layers applying some Vaseline and checking laces. While for others it's much more complicated as they have colourful costumes to done. Next to me as I undress is a man trying to squeeze himself into something which looks like the FA cup. I hope for him that the cool of the morning contues.
In the lead up I have made a mental note to make sure I talk to as many people as possible and I try to stick to this, by talking to the young lad next to me in the very long queue to the loo. I find he is from Devon and running in memory of his aunt who died last year.Finally the time comes and we all pack into one of the three release pens. There must be 15,000 people in mine, with a similar number in the other big one. We are supposed to mark the deaths in Boston with a minute's silence, but no one hears the sound so the conversations continue.
The wait is finally over and we slowly walk up to the start line and after about 10 minutes we are over and able to start running. People joke and laugh about the fact that we are nearly there. Lots run off faster than me and I know from past experience that they will pay for their over exhuberance. I make a note to keep smiling and enjoy the whole thing.
Right from the start the crowds are there and they never leave you. In places it is over whelming and for me it is this level of support that makes the London Marathon so special. It comes from hundreds of thousands of people and fellow participants. You are never alone, even when you hit those dark times towards the end there is someone there to encourage, cajole and humour you. You want the pain to stop and your inner voice tells you that all you have to do is stop running, but it's those people cheering that you know you can't let down. You silence the inner voice and keep going for a bit more until it starts nagging again and the cycle continues.
As I run I make sure I interact with as many as possible. A woman running in front of me has a heart on her back with writing inside a heaart. I say "You will have to stop running so I can read what is on your back." She ignores my request and tells me that she is running for her 12 year old son who survived open heart surgery last year. I play high fives with hundreds of children along the way as I run. A man next to me says to a couple of 20 year old twin girls with the words "For Dad" on their backs - "Your dad would be proud of you!". I start a conversation with him and he simply says that it puts things into perspective. You can't argue with that and it really brings home just how lucky we are all are to be here on this beautiful earth.
The miles pass one by one. Six, turns into ten to fifteen and then on to twenty. Once there the real work begins. It is these last six miles where everything happens. Your body runs out of fuel and the demons within start to nag you. This time when I get to the 20 mile point I am still feeling strong and I know I have a chance of getting all the way without walking. The 21 Mile marker passes. Then 22. I notice a sea of purple as I pass a bank of fellow Games Makers from the Olympic Games, there to support the other runners like me. I know that I can’t stop to have a quick chat as if I do the inner voice will take over and I will never start again. On to 23 miles and Big Ben comes into view as we pass the Tower of London and onto the embankment. My focus changes from the crowd to my inner self which is starting to take over and I try and put the nagging doubts, which are being feed into my brain by my demons, aside. It’s not easy. 24 milescomes and there is little left within me and the fight to keep going continues. I tell myself that it’s a simple matter of running from Fotheringhay to home. Something I have done hundreds of times. But my demons remind me that this time is different as I have just run 24 miles and that these last two won’t be that simple. I focus on the next step, then the next and hope that this will take methrough. 25 miles comes and Big Ben is now really “Big” and as I cross into Parliament square to the noise of a huge crowd I know that I will do it. Over the last few months I have been thinking about this last mile and reminding myself to enjoy it. I am now too tired for that and all I want is to finish. The signs change from miles to meters as the last few hundred meters are flagged. I passBuckingham Palace and 200M to go and I cross the finish line feeling very emotional and pleased that I have finished. A woman next to me breaks down in tears and I feel for her as I know that there is another storey to be told.
From here I am looking forward to a really rewarding summer when I am working as a volunteer at the Special Olympics GB summer games in Bath. After that I am hoping to cycle from Lhasa in Tibet to Kathmandu in Nepal via the north Everest Base camp which will mark a double for me.
Thank you so much for your support. It really does make a difference.
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