Looking for my other runs? They are here: Running Index.
April 22nd 2012. My Mum's 88th Birthday! Happy Birthday Mum.
I must start by thanking of all the wonderful people who have helped me in so many ways for this marathon. I fear I may have become a little bit of a marathon bore. After all, the training does go on, and on, and on for about 6 months but there was no need for my mouth to copy that. This was typified by a tennis playing friend who said "I'll be glad when this effing marathon is over". It's nice to be missed.
Those people supporting me range from the wonderful support from Karen, the interest from family and friends, the generous sponsors and the great guys at the RNLI Lifeboats, who I was running for. And then the crowds that flocked to the course... but more of them later.
I had run just one marathon before, the London Marathon in 2010 with my running mate Nigel. He sensibly passed on this opportunity. This time. My plan was to try and beat 4 hours in 2010 but neither his training nor mine permitted that. This time was going to be different!
Well not so different that my training went smoothly of course. It started with a badly sprained ankle in October, then in December I had a recurrence of the knee injury that plagued me 2 years ago. After that it went well though, including my last long run - a 23 miler in 9 minute miles - so on target to beat 4 hours. A week's trip to Egypt just before the race was lovely but I wonder if I overdid it on the treadmill a little. Regardless, on my return, I ate something that disagreed with me on Monday and was reacquainted with the food later that evening. A week of stomach cramps and nervousness followed with just one short run before the day of reckoning on the Sunday. Not the best preparation in the end.
RNLI bib and my charity throwaway clothes for the trip to the start line
I travelled to the start alone. It was a little disconcerting seeing runners get on to the tubes I was getting off and vice versa but there is more than one start and various routes to them. I thought it a bit much when some of them ran up the platform to catch the train though (and missed it). I was looking particularly crap in the charity shop joggers I had bought but, as it was a little cold, I thought it best to try and stay warm for as long as possible.
To pass the time I did a little social media so I "virtually" wasn't alone. Anyway, there was 37,000 of us at the event.
26.2 miles is a long way. It's not helped by the 20 minute walk, uphill, to the start line and then all the hanging around.
I managed to have a few chats and found another RNLI supporter. Everybody has a story, and there's a real warmth and camaraderie.
Extra warmth was also felt by the nerves and the queue to the toilets of course. But the sun was (mostly) shining and we were blessed with perfect weather.
The race
We were corralled into our starting areas, with the usual number of people trying to work their way into the wrong areas. I was standing close to the two Superhero guys who had yellow latex masks pull completely over the heads. I also saw them at the end and they were still on. Madness.
And without much fuss, we were away.
I started OK, kept to my race plan and enjoyed the run. By about mile 7 I could feel my calf muscles tightening which was unusual. Past the resplendent Cutty Sark, with the old cobbled floor surrounding it replaced with nice smooth paving, and onwards. Around mile 8 I knew that my muscles shuoldn't be hurting that much. However, at this stage of a long run, I always have trouble thinking that my now aching legs will carry me all the way.
The official timing shows I made great steady progress up to 30Km, the full distance being just over 42Km. Some of my friends were watching this web page to check on my progress. Support comes in a variety of ways! At half distance I had run for 1hr 57min 33 seconds. On a good day I would struggle to match that for the second half but, of course, I was hoping this would be a good day. In any case, sub 4 hours was mathematically possible.
Around half way, amazingly, I spotted an ex-client Dennis (aka Menace) in the crowd. I knew he would be somewhere round there but only recognised him at the last moment as he was booming out support for someone else. I called across and he saw me and waved encouragment. This made me stride on manfully for at least, oooh, 25 metres before the half-way blues set in a little. I shrugged them off, and, mentally at least, I was in good shape as 15 miles ticked by.
However, the pain got worse and I started to doubt I could do the distance. I was determined to give myself a shot at the 4 hours so worked hard to keep up the speed. I started to fade a little. By mile 20 I think I knew the game was up. I toyed with trying to get a leg massage from the St John's Ambulance crew but went straight past them at the 21 mile marker...
...only to give up about 100 metres later. The illness of the previous week had taken it's toll. So I rang Karen, who was waiting for me at mile 24.5 and told her I may be some time...
The 5 mile walk
The crowds at the marathon are amazing. I had my name clearly ironed on to my T-Shirt - I do use the iron twice a year - and the people would shout out and cheer me on. Some guy called Greig did run close to me for ages and his name must have been clearer because just as I was ready to receive the next wave of cheering "Come on Gr..." , I heard his name instead of mine. Repeatedly. Git. But when you are walking, and keeping out of the runners way to one side of the course, you are right up and personal.
It must be surreal to be famous. 1000's calling out to you and knowing your name. Brad wouldn't have to iron his name on. Although it's nice and short so he could use bigger letters. I had run with Will Young a little earlier - he didn't need to have his name ironed on. At walking pace though, you can stop and chat, ask people's names (seems only fair) and select your favourite jelly babies etc. At one point a section of the crowd were trying to get me running again and, as I egged them on to cheer louder, more joined in. What a boost, what a filip, what a waste of time. I ran for about 50 metres and that was it.
One conversation: Crowd: "Run, Grahame, Run" Me: "But it's a nice day for a walk" (which it was).
Another conversation was: Me: "What's that" Girl in crowd: "Beer. You can have it if you like" and off I went with about half a pint of lager. And very welcome it was too and the subsequent crowds cheered even louder when I held it aloft. I am not sure why - surprise maybe.
I stopped and chatted to a guy "How's it going?" he asked. "Put it this way, it's not been by best day. I've been overtaken by a Rhino and a Cockroach", I replied.
After about 23.5 miles, this voice said "Grahame"....and it was Dennis again. What are the chances of that? Was he stalking me? We had a chat and I limped on.
I arrived at the Lifeboat cheering point and received a rousing reception. I played up to it, of course, but felt a fraud as I was walking. Karen and her Dad were there to welcome me with drink and chocolate. I carried on and made it to the finish. 4 hours 49 minutes. I was pleased to have finished but gutted that I couldn't give my target time a fair go.
Aftermath
The anticlimax happens as you receive your finisher's medal and then battle the crowds to meet up (with Karen and her Dad). The weather, which had been wonderful, started to turn. The rain came, the wind blew. Thank goodness it was so nice for the race.
I have had contact from so many people congratulating me and asking how I got on. My thanks again to all of them and everybody who supported me in every way. I now have to sort out the fund raising final figures on my sponsor page. I have raised over £3,000 + gift aid. This runs the RNLI for almost 12 minutes. Possibly 12 crucial minutes. Brilliant. As I didn't break 4 hours, this includes the matched sponsorship for those who said they would double their sponsorship if I did break it - I am matching their pledges instead.
So I have to run again. I want to break 4 hours! But I'll give myself some time to recover first.
Grahame