Ed's London marathon blog - 2010 by EBrowns

• London Marathon 2010 - Race Review - 25/04/10

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  Apr2720102:02 p.m.

  On the train to Greenwich last Sunday I was composing a text message to my friend. My nerves were jangling, emotionally I was swooping between elation at getting to the start of the London Marathon and that very human fear of the unknown.

  The text message went something like this:

  'Hope is a cruel mistress. She will invite you in and make you fall for her charms. Later she will glance your way with a look that seems to say: "this can never work, are you going to be OK?"'

  As you can see, nerves do strange things to my mind, I go into a type of verbal overdrive. I guess it's my brain attempting to find some meaning to steady the panicked ship that is my mind. So as I made my way to the pre-race photo with the charity atop the hill in Greenwich Park I was a bundle of nervous energy - though gradually getting more and more excited as race time drew near.

  At about 08:55 the weather took a fairly savage turn for the worst and the runners had to endure a prolonged downpour, which I later found out had a bad effect on a lot of people who suffered blisters after getting wet feet. I think I got quite lucky and managed to keep my feet dry sheltering underneath a large oak tree, I think it was an oak tree - the one that has conkers.

  During this time I was listening to the entertaining coverage of the race build up on the BBC. Kris Akabusi was brilliant, in particular when describing the start of the wheelchair race, he kept on saying something along the lines of: "the trouble for these athletes is that they're there trying to find their racing legs, pardon the expression, but this weather isn't helping them," I think he's a great broadcaster as he's so enthusiastic and genuine but this slip of the tongue was quite funny.

  Finally the start arrived and I got over the line almost exactly two minutes after the gun... not sure if there was a gun but I'd like to think so. I ambled the first few hundred yards with the thought "I'm running a fu**ing marathon, shit" on repeat in my head. I had been put in pen 4, which was in front of the time I was looking for (sub 4 hours), so had the luxury of being able to back off over the first couple of miles until I was running with fellow 9 minute milers. I of course made sure anyone who wanted to overtake had plenty of room to do so. Running etiquette is important. I, also, of course, ran the first 5k way too fast... but with hindsight I think, what the heck, it was fun I got swept along and I flipping loved it.

  Split for 5k: 26:53.

  We got to (I say we because by this time, though dipping in and out of the mp3 player I was really enjoying the positive vibes created by the cheerfulness of the runners and the already amazing crowds), the Cutty Shark and this was the first occasion of several on the day where I was totally blown away by the support. I know "blown away" is not the best description but on each side of the road the crowds were three rows deep, the noise was amazing and it felt truly special.

  Aside from composing my musing on hope on the train, I also put together a final three track playlist, which included a song that I'd recently discovered by Tom Palmer called Dig Down Deep - I listened to it for the fist time at about the 8 mile mark, it was going to become my soundtrack for the day. It's super hard to find so I can't post a link - I think it was originally performed by Marc Cohn but I prefer the Palmer's version. It is a love song but for me it translates perfectly to the emotional experience I had running this marathon, as "digging down deep" was something I had to do consistently throughout the day. I know this probably sounds very twee and overly sensitive, after all, running is simply putting one foot in front of the other, but I'm sure many will agree that the first marathon becomes a matter of survival and personally this involves finding the mental desire to carry on. So, I pootled along to the 15k mark - still going a little fast and all the while trying to get myself to go slower.

  15k split: 01:22:15.

  At this point I had been using a man called James who was running, very steadily and strongly, for the Lifeboats, to help me keep my pace. I reckoned he was on about the same as me (I have no Garmin and have to go on feel). He was a similar build to me, so I figured a useful guy to have around... So in my infinite wisdom I sped off down the road as we neared Tower Bridge. The crowds and noise swelled and I never saw James again.

  I knew this was a bad thing to do (countless people had said keep an even pace over the bridge) but I was absolutely buzzing and felt as good as I was going to feel all day as I strode onto Tower Bridge. The noise was terrific - I missed my friend Simon who apparently was yelling my name - my legs felt strong and I think I might've been laughing. It was one of those moments I hope stays with me forever. London huddled around the Thames below me and, yet again, that feeling of immense, overwhelming positive vibes stemming from the crowd.

  So after "powering" over the bridge and past half way in 01:56:20 (I know this isn't quick but probably two minutes too fast for me) I saw my friends Chris, Rachy and somewhere taking photos, her boyfriend Svenny. It was another highlight - the boost I got hearing the bellowing caterwaul of my name over thousands of other runners and spectators was both disorientating and reassuring. I managed the left arm "unit salute" and carried on.

  This, however, is where I think the feeling good ended and the real fight began. About half a mile down the road I started to feel sick. I think it was a combination of the gels I had forced down as many people had advised me to get the energy supplements in early before your body starts hating them. So from about mile 14 - 17 it was a struggle to basically not puke, I felt light headed and had a definite drop in leg strength.

  At the time I thought it might be the dreaded "wall" and this sent me into a spiral of fear. Why was this happening now? I was barely over half way and I knew the proper battle was only going to start at mile 20. While the crowds' enthusiasm was infectious it was another time I had to return to the tunes and settle myself back down. I took on more water rather than energy stuff and did manage to regain some composure. That said at about 17.5 miles I was forced to stop and pee. Upon stopping I felt dizzy and was pouring with sweat, I even muttered to myself: "you're OK - you can do this" - the kind female marshal who was managing this toilet stop, caught my eye as I stumbled out of the cubicle and said: "don't worry love, I know you'll finish". I thanked her and staggered back onto the course.

  This break might have cost me the 45 seconds that meant I didn't go under 4 hours but I had to go and I think it did relax me enough to get back into some sort of stride. My splits from 25k show that my pace unravelled - almost exactly 30 minutes per 5k but at least it was steady and I was bumbling towards the finish.

  Soon we were upon the Canary Wharf section of the course, I no longer felt sick but the legs and especially my right calf were getting heavy and tight. This was another interesting section for not very nice reasons. At about mile 19 I ran past a 200 metre stretch where there were three runners lying on the road being attended to by paramedics (props to St Johns), one of whom was as pale as I've ever seen a human and very still. I hope they're OK. This was not good to see and I had to force myself not to look as the inevitable thought entered my head that I could be next. I popped the tunes back in and listened to Dig Down Deep for some encouragement.

  Split for 35km: 03:18:30.

  This was the point where I felt my head imploding, I suppose, while not the dreaded wall, I was tiring to the point of exhaustion especially on a mental level. Interestingly it was fear more than anything that kept me running, I honestly thought that if I stopped to walk I wouldn't be able to get back into any sort of stride again.

  Thankfully I knew I was coming up to Cheer Squadron point again so I pinned all my hopes on reaching them for a boost. The wild whoops and fist pumping certainly picked me up again and Chris's comment of "you smell of success" was a winner with other spectators.

  At the 23 mile mark my friends Tom and Florie yelled my name as I plodded forwards - the thought that every stride I ran was getting me nearer that finish line - they said that I looked like the most disorientated man in the world as I struggled to locate them in the crowd.

  I think it must have been the tunnel at Blackfriars, which stank of endeavour, where I decided that despite the painfully slow pace I would not stop and walk. Emerging from that tunnel to the mass crowds of Embankment was something else, while Big Ben seemed a long way off and my mind was capable of nothing more than focusing on getting one foot in front of another, I knew I wouldn't stop. I managed to spot a few more people, my housemate Eleanor and workmate Kate, which was a welcome boost.

  The finish has been often described but the right turn off embankment and past the Houses of Parliament then onto Birdcage before swinging onto the Mall is something I hope many others have the chance to experience. Very weary but very delighted. I also had the bonus that my charity, RedR, were at 25.5 miles - I got a good wave from them, unfortunately my friend Rose's photos didn't come out, they might've been funny. But by that point I knew I was near the end of my first marathon.

  Writing this I have become emotional with what I have been through and possibly achieved. I know it is just a marathon and 36,000(ish) people also completed it. However, the training and what it has taught me and my new found love of running is something that cannot be taken away. The totality of my first experience has changed my life for the better and the immense positive vibes of the London Marathon are something I never want to forget.

  Hope is indeed a cruel mistress, I missed my sub-4 time by 45 seconds: 04:00:45. I love her all the same. Whether her cousin fortune grants me a ballot place for next year remains to be seen. There will be more marathons and I will be back.

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  Comments (2)

  • simonedumergue 'Brilliant race report - could really feel what you were going through. Sounds like so many of us had a similar bad experience around the same stage of the race. I'm normally OK with the gels but they didn't agree with me on the day and I went to a bit of a dark place for a while there, but like you was determined to put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Oustanding time for a first marathon - that is brilliant, and I'm sure you can tell yourself you really did a sub 4 - you would have without the wee stop! Enjoy revelling in the sweet glow of achievement. Well deserved :-)' added 27th Apr 2010

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  • Jenny1961 'Don't for one minute apologise for being 'emotional'. There were a few places on the course that had me welling up. Like my boss says- although there are many people running it, only a tiny proportion of the population will wear that medal. And it does change your life, your whole way of thinking :) ' added 27th Apr 2010

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