Third time's a charm

Well, I've done it. I've completed the London Marathon. Another wish ticked off that 'things to do before I am 40' list. Unfortunately, I did not get my wished-for PB. I did it in 4:26:37, not under 4:15 as planned. But I did learn a lot about running from yesterday's incredible experience.

The weather made a liar of everyone and gave us perfect running conditions (unless of course you had wrapped up for the predicted low temperatures and wet weather - I was glad I had taken the risk of just going for my preferred race gear plus my charity vest). The organisation at the start was excellent, making for a relaxed pre-race feeling. And the crowds were incredible. I've been to watch the marathon before and I don't remember there being the sheer weight of numbers that were out there yesterday. 

At points in the race the crowd were as good as a pair of fresh legs. Tower Bridge and its support gave me a speedy mile. Seeing Beloved at mile 13 and he and other friends at mile 22 gave me bursts of energy and positive thoughts that carried me forwards.

And I really needed all the energy and positive thoughts I could get. London was the hardest marathon I've ever run, mentally and physically. I didn't race the race I planned to race, and essentially blew my own race strategy by going off a tiny bit too fast at the start. But I managed to rein myself back in from mile 2 and felt good, felt back on target. 

Around Cutty Sark, the atmosphere was so electric that it gave me my happiest moment of running ever. I am just glad I wasn't caught by the TV cameras, because I know I was grinning like an idiot, high on the deafening noise of the crowd and the band. I saw a spectator so happy to see her friend or partner running that she looked like she'd won millions on the lottery. It was simply fantastic.

But at mile 10, it all went wrong for me. My right knee started to hurt on the outside. I've had aches and pains on long runs before, and often it's a psychological thing that I can just run off. So I kept going, expecting the pain to pass before long. The sight of Tower Bridge was as good as any Ibuprofen - I started grinning like a mad fool again, running across the bridge with a maniacal smile on my face. I was excited at the prospect of seeing my Beloved in a mile or so, and the pain didn't seem to be a problem. 

By mile 15, it became apparent the pain wasn't going anywhere and it was going to stick with me for the rest of the ride. By then it became a question of mind over matter, willing it not to get worse and using every single Jedi mind trick in the book. The gels weren't giving me the spurts of energy they normally do, or at least they didn't feel like they did (a look at my splits on Endomondo suggests otherwise). Every mile from 15, I seemed to lose a few seconds and just couldn't find the energy to get them back. I was nervous about pushing too hard, in case the knee just gave out. I desperately wanted to finish the race, and finish it running. I'll never know if my overly speedy first mile was the problem, or whether I just had an underlying problem that was ready to surface, all I know is I wanted to deal with it and finish as soon as I could.

Psychologically, London was tough, because of several factors. I've done two marathons before but in cities that feel comfortable about opening up wide roads to let the runners run on. Part of the quirks of London is that you run down quite a few stretches which only fit a few runners across. If those runners suddenly decide to stop running and start walking (which seems to be a 50/50 chance in London) then this makes the route something of a bottleneck. I don't think this slowed me down as much as messed with my head, frustrated me, made me impatient and gave me negative thoughts.

The main thing that screws with your mind though is the number of people who just collapse in a heap on the side. By the time I reached 22 miles I didn't dare look to the side any more, because it was starting to mess with my head. I had moved from a time goal, to the goal of making it round without collapsing in a heap. And this is a head that knows it can run marathons, knows it can do it successfully. God knows what happens to your thoughts if it's your first marathon and people are dropping like flies around you. This wasn't something I'd witnessed in New York or Berlin, and it scared me.

And the costumes, they are really something else. They make it an incredibly inspiring and often hysterically funny experience but trying to dodge a hula hooping woman while 3 other runners are trying to take photos of her was frustrating to say the least. 

The final and most persistent frustration is the policy of handing out fluids in bottles. This is frustrating and downright hazardous. Giving people the option of 33cl portions of water every mile is wasteful and potentially dangerous. Most people just take a couple of sips and then hurl them to the side. But others just toss them on the road, where other runners have to run over them or skip over them, or often the bottles that are tossed aside bounced back off the kerb, hurtling into your foot or your calf. One runner in front of me 'helpfully' kicked away an empty glass bottle of Bulmers cider and I am eternally grateful that no one was in the way of that. And then there's the joy of running past a full plastic bottle just as someone stands on, spraying you and your trainers with water, or if you're really unlucky (like me), sticky orange Lucozade Sport. And I'm sure the irony of all those virtually full bottles of plastic water in the gutter was not wasted on all those Water Aid runners yesterday. London Marathon really need to find a better way to service runners and the environment and not make it all about the sponsors. Other marathons offer plastic cups, which are easier to sip from (and chuck over your sweaty face when you don't finish it all) and more importantly give way under foot much more easily and safely. I really didn't like the bottle aspect of it at all.

Despite all these 'nuisances', and despite my own personal performance, I loved running London. The crowd was brilliant every step of the way, and really make it a very special race. I'm deeply grateful to everyone who stood there all morning making a supportive racket and in particular to those complete strangers who encouraged me by name.  I didn't do as well as I wanted to but I'm delighted all the same, because I learnt a lot about how to run it better and if I did it again I am confident I could do a time I would be happier with. I'd employ different tactics (and maybe wear blinkers!). It ended up being an experience rather than a marathon, albeit a marathon experience. But in the end yesterday wasn't about a PB, it was about London. Which, as ever, was extraordinary. 

LON