Sunday, 25th April – Virgin London Marathon

Up before the alarm goes off as I’ve been lying awake for some time. Out like a light for the early part of the night, but once I woke up that was it. We’re staying in a cheap hotel just off Edgware Road. Local girls must be really friendly though as they’ve left photos and contact details in the phone box just down the road. Mighty welcoming. Have a porridge in the room as we’re not sure what will be on offer for breakfast. Top this up with scrambled eggs and beans (they didn’t do porridge).

Liz accompanies me to London Bridge and sees me off from there. You can feel the apprehension in the carriages on the tube on the way there. In spite of detailed plans for the spectators made the previous evening it’s all a bit random. They’re going to catch me at Canada Docks (mile 8) and then cross the river and get me at miles 14 and 19. Liz will then wander over and see me at the meet and greet and we’ll head off back down the course and look out for people we know. Sounds simple.

The weather is overcast and somewhat chilly. I chat with the lady next to me on the train; she’s very coy about the time she’s aiming for. I’m not sure why as I’ve never met her before and will never meet her again. Maybe it’s bad luck to speak the prophesy. Wander up from Blackheath station to the start area about an hour ahead of the start. Gill and Sharron are on gate duty ensuring all runners display their numbers and turning back non-runners from the restricted area. It’s good to see a couple of friendly faces as I’m now in a vast crowd. Make my way over to the queue for the urinals. These are a little weird and disturbing. They’re in blocks of eight and as you’re peeing one way some other bloke is directly opposite peeing your way. Not sure on urinal etiquette in these circumstances but it seems to be no eye contact and no talking. This is confirmed 15 minutes later when I need another pee. Maybe I’m more apprehensive than I thought.

It starts to rain and the wind picks up making hanging around pretty unpleasant. Decide I need the proper toilets and queue for that. Watch the elite women start on the big screen – there aren’t many of them, but they don’t half shift. Wrap myself up in the foil blanket that Liz has blagged from the Expo. Reluctantly I have to shed my non-running layers and strip down to running gear. Toy with the idea of slipping my t shirt on under my running vest for extra warmth and discarding the cap I’ve brought to protect my slap. Decide against on the basis that with the t shirt on top I can throw it away at any time. Ditto the cap.

Make my way across to Blue pen 4. Nobody checks my number which is under my t shirt to make sure this is the right pen for me. The pens are arranged 1-9 with one going off in the lead and nine to the rear. See the start on the big screen, but am so far back I wouldn’t have been aware of it otherwise. Cross the starting line in about four minutes. By the end of the first mile I know that the 3:15 target is gone. I just can’t get going. It takes 9 minutes 30 seconds to cover the first mile, we come to a dead halt three times, wait for the runners in front to move again and then get going. There’s a wall of runners in front and I can’t go any faster than they go. By the 5k mat I’m already more than three minutes behind schedule with little prospect of getting a clear run. By this time I’ve adjusted my target to 3:30. It becomes a little clearer over the next 5k, but I’m still faced with a wall of runners backs and have to concentrate hard on looking for gaps and then going through them safely.

Not surprisingly, given the numbers, I didn’t see many people I knew running. I must have gone past Michael between 6k and 7k, but didn’t see him. Similarly, with Nikos at about 16k. Did see Marisol on Tower Bridge. Recognised her from the white knee socks and Bingley Harriers vest. Note to Hyde Park Harriers vest designers; name of the club on the back is useful. Was looking out for local club vests, but they were a little thin on the ground as many runners were running in charity vests. Of course when you’re running you can only tell the club from the back of the vest. Spotted a couple of Halifax Harriers and someone from Idle AC, but not much else.

Also didn’t recognise supporters. People seem to be shouting encouragement to Chris all the way round, but not this Chris. Got cheers from the Brown family who recognised my VARR vest at about mile 8/9 – thanks for that. Heard Lizs’ voice and saw my lot at mile 18/19, which kept me going for a little burst. Wasn’t seeing much of anything by mile 23 where Jaz, Tess and Paul were stood. Thanks for the support even though I wasn’t aware of it. By this stage I was just trying to hang on to a runner from Idle AC who went past reasonably strongly at mile 22. I kept up for a while, but she got away from me by mile 24.

The hydration and nutrition strategy went out the window fairly early in that there were so many opportunities to take on water and sports drink that I just helped myself when necessary. This was virtually at every water/re-fuelling point. It was pretty muggy, especially early on. Missed the first shower, but availed myself of two others. Avoided the rest for fear of chafing. Never felt like walking; if I’d stopped to walk I’d never have got going again. Didn’t need toilet facilities; maybe there are advantages to sweating like Zinedine.

I wasn’t aware of anything hurting at all when running, just a bone tired weariness that I couldn’t seem to shake off. I thought I had a chance of 3:30 right up to mile 24, but there wasn’t much left in the tank for the last couple of miles. It was a relief to finish and not get injured. I could feel the muscles behind my knee quivering in a peculiar way towards the end so a sprint finish was not on the cards (ok I know I haven’t got a sprint finish anyway, but going slightly faster than I was going before). After crossing the line you have to go up a ramp where your chip is snipped off, you then get your medal placed round your neck and your photo taken. You are handed your goody bag and pretty much left to your own devices to collect your baggage. The baggage handlers were alert and had my bag ready for me by the time I got to my section of the lorries. This was probably not as impressive and slick as it sounds as I was moving very slowly by this point. I attempted some stretches and wolfed the Pink Lady apple from the goody bag. I wandered over to the I/J section of the meet and greet area, but no sign of Liz.

I was rooted to the spot doing groaning for about ten minutes until the family arrived. By concentrating very hard I’d managed to get out of my sweaty vest, top half dried and into a dry shirt in the ten minutes it took them to arrive. They’ve been following my progress via some sort of texting system and tell me I’ve finished in 3:31:20. I had to be helped out of running shoes and sweaty shorts and into dry shorts, which is a bit of an assault on dignity, but I didn’t care at this stage. They’d kindly brought me a baked spud with tuna’n’sweetcorn but all I could manage was the filling. No strength to cut the spud with plastic knife and no co-ordination to hold polystyrene tray and eat at the same time. Being spoon fed in public was just one step too far.

After a brief photo session Judith & Gerry had to dash as the tube system had ground to a halt and they had to go back on a specific train. Tottered to the nearest pub for my first taste of alcohol in nearly ten weeks. Pint of Strongbow that never touched the sides. Bumped into Steve and Becky from parkrun Leeds/Bradford. Eventually had to come clean and admit that I’m not Mick Hogan and never have been, though I did nearly catch him once (he was injured).

Totter off to the nearest tube station, but have to stop and lurch as foot has got cramp. Family creasing themselves at my discomfort, as I can move (once I’ve got going) but not very well or at any speed. Have to swing my leg out to get up and down mountainous kerbs. Tube station closed due to congestion. Have to shuffle to next one. It’s a nightmare. Eventually get on tube and have to change three times to get back to the hotel. Attempt to eat Mars bar from goody bag but even my jaws are so tired they won’t function properly.

Collapse into bed having sent Liz and the kids out shopping. Respond to e-mails and facebook and seek knowledge of how others have got on. I’m so tired I could sleep for hours but my body won’t let me. If I lie on my right side my right leg gets cramps. If I lie on my left side my left foot gets cramps. If I lie on my back my toes hurt. If I lie on my front everything hurts.

Eventually give it up as a bad job. Liz collects me and we make our way slowly to a Lebanese restaurant. From previous experience this will be either very good or indescribably poor. We hit lucky and food is delicious. I eat like a horse, manage a circuitous route back to get the legs going again and then sleep the sleep of the righteous.