I can't quite believe that it's all over, after the months of training, anticipation, nerves and excitement, it's all done now!
I don't really know how to start properly with describing the day, so the beginning seems like a good place. And I promise I'll try not to waffle on too much.
To be honest, I was a lot more calm in the final few days than I expected to be. I'm a huge stresser and worrier but as the marathon got nearer, I was loads more excited than nervous, and I was right to be!
The first thing I've got to mention is the heat. After months of harsh cold winter training, British Summer decided to show its face at the back end of last week. And as the marathon rapidly approached, all over the news and weather were the predictions that Sunday 22nd April was set to be the hottest London Marathon on record. Just my bloody luck!
To some extent though, as I made my way from Greenwich Train Station and up through the park with a friend from Running Club and some friends of his, the warm sunny weather just added to the joyful, festival-like atmosphere. The buzz in the runners' area was like nothing I've experienced, we were all in it together and the day was the final hurrah of months of hard work... we had this!
All too soon it was time to get in the pens and it all suddenly started to feel very real. Surrounded by thousands of nervous runners I'd by lying if I said I wasn't feeling it too. A huge roar from the crowd let everyone know the clock had stuck 10 and Queenie somewhere over the other side of Greenwich pressed a big button for Mo and his gang to get started. And we waited.
We waited and waited then shuffled forward a bit then waited some more. It was almost 45 minutes before I finally crossed the start line but the rush of energy and excitement once I had was unreal. As I made my way through the streets lined with spectators to the sounds of cheering and various bands playing there was a real party atmosphere. It was great!
Aware of the relentless heat, I slowed my pace right down and took it all in. I was never going to be world record breaking so pace wasn't a huge worry to me, I'd much rather enjoy the day. As I bounced my way round the London Streets I was doing just that.
The first key landmark en route is the famous Cutty Sark, a magnificent restored ship always promising hundreds of eager spectators. As with the rest of the marathon so far, it did not disappoint! To be honest, that part was a little bit smaller than I expected, but it passed by and I got excited in the knowledge that my family would be waiting for me just a couple of miles down the road.
I carried on trotting round through a few little twists and turns and was horrified to see as I turned one corner a rather large Derby County FC flag. Seconds later, I noticed Des and my family just in front of it and...well video evidence which I won't publish here shares the sentiment I had for that Derby flag! But a photo I will publish shows how happy I was to see Des (and the rest of them) and I can be heard shouting between expletives how much fun I was having before I carried off on my very long journey.
It was shortly afterwards that things started to go wrong. Starting to tire somewhat in the heat I, along with thousands of other runners, were devastated to find at mile 9 that the water station had completely ran out of water!!! All too soon the great endorphin rush was overshadowed with panic and the worry about when, during the hottest London Marathon on record, we'd get another drink.
Slowing right down into a walk, I started to share words of disbelief with other runners "Can't believe it" "in this heat" "they said there'd be enough" echoed around with one man angrily encouraging the spectators to tweet about what was happening.
Really really feeling the heat now and worrying about when the bloody hell I'd get to another station with stock, I decided the best thing to do was put out an SOS message to the family Facebook chat group. Then I got my head down and got on with it as best I could, all the while with the uncertainty in the back of my mind and my pace reflecting it.
Eventually I got to my support crew at about mile 11, I was even happier to see them this time! They, like many spectators around them, had got loads of water from a local shop for me and my fellow runners. I've never been so excited to see a bottle of something non-alcoholic! The heat had been really getting to me so I took Dad's cap and carried on with my journey, feeling a little perkier.
As I carried on plodding through the streets of London, thoughts turned to the next key landmark I knew wasn't too far away, Tower Bridge. Everything really beginning to hurt now, I was willing myself on to get there as that was the part (other than the finish of course!) that I was most looking forward to. Struggling through, trying my best to keep an consistent pace, it was at this point I had the pleasure of running with Harriet, one of my fellow Girlguiding team. We nattered away a bit and all of a sudden turned a corner and there it was!
Heading towards the magnificent structure, I heard a familiar "KKKKAAAAAAYYYYYYY" in the distance. As if this bit wasn't amazing enough, one of my best friends, John waving madly at me! I skipped over the road to him, so excited to see another friendly face, gave him a big hug and a few happy tears and once again trotted off on my way.
All runners love a selfie, and at this point I couldn't resist. Keeping my pace as much as possible I whipped my phone out and quickly shot, the result (below) was a pretty fab photo! With a new rush of endorphins I flew up onto the bridge, something I've dreamed of running over for years and really soaked in the fantastic atmosphere. This was made even more brilliant by another friendly face from my running club cheering from the side of the bridge.
Before I knew it I was hitting the half marathon mark, I was half way there! Shit, I had to do all that all over again, on legs that were already tired, feet that were squealing and hours and hours after I had a good porridge re-fuel. This is when it started to get really hard and the enormity of what I was doing hit me.
To be honest, miles 13-18ish were fairly uneventful. The crowds were still great, everything really hurt and my pace was getting ever slower. With no major landmarks to look forward to and not seeing my family for ages, this section was without a doubt the hardest bit. It was impossible to ignore the runners either side of the road here and there taking assistance from the hundreds of volunteers waiting to help.
I still had a long way to go and it was increasingly feeling like my legs weren't my own. I never for a second thought I wouldn't finish but bloody hell these miles went on forever! I seemed to be stuck in that no man's land between reaching the half way point and getting to the last third running round endless Canary Wharf streets.
I don't know why or how, but somewhere around mile 18 I got a bit of a second wind. Everyone around me doing a combination of walking and running by this point, from somewhere I got a burst of energy and didn't stop for a walking break for ages. It was definitely helped along by a sort of tunnel of charities (including the Girlguiding cheer squad!) and as I encouraged the crowd to cheer then cried a bit as they did, I started to feel like I was in control again.
The next few miles were again fairly uneventful, still bloody hard but with that faint glimmer of "I'm really the top side of this now" I started to look forward to seeing my family and Des again as I knew they wouldn't be far away. Scanning the crowds looking for them was a really helpful way of taking my mind off the pain I was in, and the determination for them not to see me walking kept me running which helped too.
I finally reached the stretch of road where a couple of hours before I'd plodded down one side watching the speedy runners glide down the other and before I knew it there were the faces of my five favourite people in the world, I was so so happy to see them! Hugs and kisses and more tears ensued (along with a warning to Des that his forehead was burning!) This time I swapped Dad's hat for a Nottingham flag and off I went to sort this Marathon once and for all.
Despite the jovial tone I'm trying to keep here and the rose tinted glasses I'm definitely wearing writing this a few weeks on, I can remember being in an absolute world of pain. I've never been good with it, to be honest I'm quite mardy. But I am bloody stubborn in equal measure and it was that stubborn determination that kept me going as I went back past tower bridge and into the final few miles at long last.
I think I cried for the vast majority of the last two miles. I cried for such a huge mixed bag of reasons. They were happy tears definitely, I thought about how far I'd come (both literally and mentally), and as the crowds were willing me one, perfect strangers smiling and cheering my name, I was like a tap that just wouldn't turn off. I couldn't help but be extremely reflective as I came to the end of the biggest challenge of my life and the tears kept coming as I made my way down the embankment, focusing on the view of the London eye which I knew meant I was so close to the end.
Turning into the mall is like nothing else. You're running on that reddish road you've watched thousands of runners make their way down on the telly but nothing can really prepare you for it. By now the pain of the 25 miles I'd ran already insignificant I ran through those last metres proudly holding the flag of my beloved Nottingham behind me. I don't think I've ever had such a huge smile on my face.
I came level with two other women about 400m from the end, and an excited spectator shouted to one of them "I love you soooo much, you've got this!!" Well, that was it, me and my two new fellow runners were in floods. I turned to the strangers next to me and said "We have, we've got this, we've bloody done it" as one of the other women said how beautiful it was seeing families and loved ones supporting each other.
From nowhere I managed a sprint finish (which was in reality probably as far from a sprint as possible without sitting down) and before I knew it a kind smiling lady was putting a big heavy medal on me and I had "Well done" coming from here there and every where.
As soon as I gathered myself enough I took out my phone and rang Des. I'd done it, I'd bloody done the best thing I've ever done and I needed to tell him all about it!! After just about holding it together while I spoke to Des, he passed the phone to my Dad and as soon as he said "you're not crying are you" the flood gates opened again. He cried, I cried, and I put in my order for "a pint, a glass of wine and a Pepsi Maxx in that order before I hung up and went off in search of my bag which I'd parted with what felt like weeks ago.
By this point, I was in such a haze that I couldn't even work out which lorry I needed to get to and must have looked pretty pathetic hobbling round, a snivelling mess. Eventually I got there, so happy to see a different pair of shoes that I said straight down to change into them.
Now, bit of advice here. If you've just ran a marathon DO NOT SIT ON THE KERB. I think getting up from there may have been the hardest part of the whole thing, blooming heck who knew the floor was so far away!
I need to draw this blog to a close at some point or I'll be waffling on forever. I feel like as this bit marks the end of the actual marathon I should do here really. I could go on about the pain of walking down the steps to the delayed tube, or about the sheer delight and seeing Des and my family when I got back to them. I could definitely talk about how after a week of abstaining and 26.2 miles later, how magnificent my line-up of drinks was. But I think I've gone on long enough!
So that's it, I'm a marathon runner!!! It really was such a fantastic day and went straight in at the top of my favourite days ever. It's the ultimate on the running bucket list and I've done it!
London Marathon - you were fantastic!!
