London Marathon 2018
26.2 miles in 5 hrs 37 minutes and 26 seconds
It's a funny thing, this marathon lark. After 4 months of training (including 3 weeks of taper, in which I appeared to have completely forgotten what the whole concept of running was all about) I woke up on the morning of the 22nd of April 2018 calmer than I have ever felt before.
The thunder storm that woke me up at 1am, wasn't a great deal of fun, but we'll gloss over that.
But I was calm. Centred, even. Yeah, I know, weird AF. I'm about to embark on the longest distance I've ever run in the hottest temperatures on record - I should be worried. I've trained in blizzards and ice and wind and rain, with the very occasional sunny spell, but, unsurprisingly, Scottish weather has not brought me anywhere close to 24 degrees.
IKR. I'm as surprised as you are.
Anyway, the night before we had gone to Wagamamas and I carb loaded so hard on ramen that I thought I was going to explode. James, Calum and I met for breakfast at 7am and I was absolutely starving - bit of a disgrace, really - so I proceeded to load up on muesli and fruit salad like I'd never seen food before.
We then headed back to our rooms, packed and got ready to leave. However, not without the requisite number of selfies and team photo (thank you Janet for taking that!).
Not going to lie, when the clock passed 9am and we still weren't near the gate, we were a bit anxious. However it did mean that we got to see Katie Price's marathon costume being escorted up the escalator. So, there's that...
There were so many people left on the platform when we boarded the train, it was hard to see how they would have got to the start in time to drop off their bags, let alone get to the pens in time.
This is us at the start. Ah, how fresh faced and dry we were.
It felt like we were milling about for ages (it was over 40 minutes from when the first runners set off at 10am till we got to the start line), but the next thing I knew, I'd started the Garmin and we were on our way.
The supporters and music and high fives along the first 4 miles were incredible: brass bands, jazz bands, random topless men on balconies DJing with a microphone.
Caroline and I were laughing and joking and singing along. Neither of us got the memo about the hills at the start, though. I fucking hate hills.
The atmosphere was electric and utterly elating. However you were suddenly brought back down to earth when you saw runners clearly in trouble at Mile 2. That tends to refocus the mind somewhat.
I had a Camelbak with me which was filled with my usual Active Root and water mix, but I remembered the advice Richard, my former husband and exceptional marathon runner, had given me the night before. "Take water at every station, sip a bit, pour some on your wrists and on the back of your neck. Pour the rest over your head". I followed that advice religiously throughout the entire marathon.
Unsurprisingly. the next thing I knew it was Mile 5 and I needed a wee. Thankfully the queues weren't that bad and (according to the Garmin) I was only off the course for 4 minutes.
Going round Cutty Sark just after Mile 6 was incredible. The first real milestone/landmark in the race. I had been told to expect that it would be a complete bottleneck and there'd be loads of jogging on the spot before the congestion cleared. However there was none of that whatsoever.
At around about Mile 8, we caught up with the Grenfell Firefighters, who were running in full kit and oxygen tanks. I have never been so awed. We got to run alongside them for a bit and they were so very very lovely. The appreciation from the crowds for them alone was enough to break a stone heart.
Then it came to Mile 12 and the familiar (to me anyway from my infrequent trips to that there London) lead up to Tower Bridge. Running across that bridge was one of the greatest moments of my life.
It was pretty much at half way round when the wheels came off. I had been suffering with a niggly knee since I started taper. Up until this point, I'd had no issues whatsoever. Unfortunately it had decided to make it's presence known at Mile 6 and by Mile 13 it was vehemently protesting - I knew I was in trouble.
My friend Katie was there to cheer us on at half way - she got the obligatory "Everything hurts and I'm dying. Why the hell did I agree to do this?!?!?!" shout. By all accounts, I was still smiling.
TMI, but I was also experiencing a lot of underarm chaffing, which was a wholly new and horrible experience. Thankfully there were lots of nice St John's Ambulance staff with tubs of Vaseline at points along the course, which helped massively.
We entered the Isle of Dogs and I was feeling pretty shitty. Still smiling and laughing with Caroline keeping my spirits up, but I was in a lot of pain. Although I got to high five a dog and eat an ice pole whilst there, so it was most definitely not all bad. For the doge lovers here, it looked like this:
Mile 15 came and I was on a jog/fast walk intermittent pace. But I refused to stop. We pushed on.
The realisation that we were much closer to finishing the race than we were to starting was a real focus. I heard someone shouting my name at Embankment (my friend Amanda) and we ploughed on.
There were more and more people pulled up at the sides of the course. Not just charity runners like us, proper club runners and championship runners. It's a very sobering sight running past people receiving medical attention at the side of the road, surrounded by drunk people and a sea of empty plastic bottles.
I clocked a club runner from Bellahouston Road Runners as we neared 40km. She looked like she was in more pain than I was. The obligatory "Mon yersel' Bella" was dispatched and we exchanged smiles.
At 40km, I got the surprise of my life as a contingent of Edinburgh Athletic Club gave me some encouragement from the side (thank you Hannah, Katie and Keith. That did absolute wonders for me). Then we hit Big Ben and I knew it was the last push to the finish.
Birdcage Walk was horrible. I was hobbling along, just desperate to finish. Knowing that it was so close. We got to the last sign over the course which told us we had metres to go and we decide to run it in. I don't quite know what happened - I blame Keith for making me incorporate strides into my training - but I went for it and finished in 5 hours 37 minutes and 26 seconds, with Caroline close behind.
The other members of #TeamAwesome did themselves proud. Calum finished in an insane 4 hours 14 minutes and 40 seconds. James smashed it in 5 hours 4 minutes and 19 seconds.
I was well over an hour later than my predicted time. My training had indicated that I would be closer to 4hours 20 minutes. However the weather on the day and my knee put a stop to that.
I'm not disappointed, though. Far from it.
I completed London Marathon. The hottest London Marathon on record.
I enjoyed myself whilst doing it and, at the point of writing this, I have raised almost £4,000 (inc gift aid) for Parkinson's UK.
It was my first marathon, but it most certainly will not be my last.
Love
Gx
NB - I've nicked some of Caroline's awesome photos for this post.
It's a funny thing, this marathon lark. After 4 months of training (including 3 weeks of taper, in which I appeared to have completely forgotten what the whole concept of running was all about) I woke up on the morning of the 22nd of April 2018 calmer than I have ever felt before.
The thunder storm that woke me up at 1am, wasn't a great deal of fun, but we'll gloss over that.
But I was calm. Centred, even. Yeah, I know, weird AF. I'm about to embark on the longest distance I've ever run in the hottest temperatures on record - I should be worried. I've trained in blizzards and ice and wind and rain, with the very occasional sunny spell, but, unsurprisingly, Scottish weather has not brought me anywhere close to 24 degrees.
IKR. I'm as surprised as you are.
Anyway, the night before we had gone to Wagamamas and I carb loaded so hard on ramen that I thought I was going to explode. James, Calum and I met for breakfast at 7am and I was absolutely starving - bit of a disgrace, really - so I proceeded to load up on muesli and fruit salad like I'd never seen food before.
We then headed back to our rooms, packed and got ready to leave. However, not without the requisite number of selfies and team photo (thank you Janet for taking that!).
We then headed off to the Tube to make our way to Greenwich/Blackheath for the start. Thankfully the DLR strike had been called off earlier in the week, so we weren't concerned regarding transport. Well, not till we got to Tower Bridge station and saw the queues....
Not going to lie, when the clock passed 9am and we still weren't near the gate, we were a bit anxious. However it did mean that we got to see Katie Price's marathon costume being escorted up the escalator. So, there's that...
We had been told that the bag drops closed at 0945. However they were holding them open for longer, due to the delays at the train station, which was comforting. Then, once the bags were dropped off (and in the great tradition of endurance running) we all joined the toilet queues. I'm going to fess up to not being brave enough to join the female urinal queue. Too many festival flashbacks for my liking and, frankly, I was FAR too sober.
I'm glad I joined the queue I did though, because I met Caroline. Caroline and I were in the same starting wave - Calum was in 4, James was in 5 and I was in 7 (all due to predicted finishing times) - and we decided to chum each other round the course.
This is us at the start. Ah, how fresh faced and dry we were.
It felt like we were milling about for ages (it was over 40 minutes from when the first runners set off at 10am till we got to the start line), but the next thing I knew, I'd started the Garmin and we were on our way.
The supporters and music and high fives along the first 4 miles were incredible: brass bands, jazz bands, random topless men on balconies DJing with a microphone.
Caroline and I were laughing and joking and singing along. Neither of us got the memo about the hills at the start, though. I fucking hate hills.
The atmosphere was electric and utterly elating. However you were suddenly brought back down to earth when you saw runners clearly in trouble at Mile 2. That tends to refocus the mind somewhat.
I had a Camelbak with me which was filled with my usual Active Root and water mix, but I remembered the advice Richard, my former husband and exceptional marathon runner, had given me the night before. "Take water at every station, sip a bit, pour some on your wrists and on the back of your neck. Pour the rest over your head". I followed that advice religiously throughout the entire marathon.
Unsurprisingly. the next thing I knew it was Mile 5 and I needed a wee. Thankfully the queues weren't that bad and (according to the Garmin) I was only off the course for 4 minutes.
Going round Cutty Sark just after Mile 6 was incredible. The first real milestone/landmark in the race. I had been told to expect that it would be a complete bottleneck and there'd be loads of jogging on the spot before the congestion cleared. However there was none of that whatsoever.
At around about Mile 8, we caught up with the Grenfell Firefighters, who were running in full kit and oxygen tanks. I have never been so awed. We got to run alongside them for a bit and they were so very very lovely. The appreciation from the crowds for them alone was enough to break a stone heart.
Then it came to Mile 12 and the familiar (to me anyway from my infrequent trips to that there London) lead up to Tower Bridge. Running across that bridge was one of the greatest moments of my life.
It was pretty much at half way round when the wheels came off. I had been suffering with a niggly knee since I started taper. Up until this point, I'd had no issues whatsoever. Unfortunately it had decided to make it's presence known at Mile 6 and by Mile 13 it was vehemently protesting - I knew I was in trouble.
My friend Katie was there to cheer us on at half way - she got the obligatory "Everything hurts and I'm dying. Why the hell did I agree to do this?!?!?!" shout. By all accounts, I was still smiling.
TMI, but I was also experiencing a lot of underarm chaffing, which was a wholly new and horrible experience. Thankfully there were lots of nice St John's Ambulance staff with tubs of Vaseline at points along the course, which helped massively.
We entered the Isle of Dogs and I was feeling pretty shitty. Still smiling and laughing with Caroline keeping my spirits up, but I was in a lot of pain. Although I got to high five a dog and eat an ice pole whilst there, so it was most definitely not all bad. For the doge lovers here, it looked like this:
(not a photo of the actual dog, btw)
Mile 15 came and I was on a jog/fast walk intermittent pace. But I refused to stop. We pushed on.
The realisation that we were much closer to finishing the race than we were to starting was a real focus. I heard someone shouting my name at Embankment (my friend Amanda) and we ploughed on.
There were more and more people pulled up at the sides of the course. Not just charity runners like us, proper club runners and championship runners. It's a very sobering sight running past people receiving medical attention at the side of the road, surrounded by drunk people and a sea of empty plastic bottles.
I clocked a club runner from Bellahouston Road Runners as we neared 40km. She looked like she was in more pain than I was. The obligatory "Mon yersel' Bella" was dispatched and we exchanged smiles.
At 40km, I got the surprise of my life as a contingent of Edinburgh Athletic Club gave me some encouragement from the side (thank you Hannah, Katie and Keith. That did absolute wonders for me). Then we hit Big Ben and I knew it was the last push to the finish.
Birdcage Walk was horrible. I was hobbling along, just desperate to finish. Knowing that it was so close. We got to the last sign over the course which told us we had metres to go and we decide to run it in. I don't quite know what happened - I blame Keith for making me incorporate strides into my training - but I went for it and finished in 5 hours 37 minutes and 26 seconds, with Caroline close behind.
The other members of #TeamAwesome did themselves proud. Calum finished in an insane 4 hours 14 minutes and 40 seconds. James smashed it in 5 hours 4 minutes and 19 seconds.
I was well over an hour later than my predicted time. My training had indicated that I would be closer to 4hours 20 minutes. However the weather on the day and my knee put a stop to that.
I'm not disappointed, though. Far from it.
I completed London Marathon. The hottest London Marathon on record.
I enjoyed myself whilst doing it and, at the point of writing this, I have raised almost £4,000 (inc gift aid) for Parkinson's UK.
It was my first marathon, but it most certainly will not be my last.
Love
Gx
NB - I've nicked some of Caroline's awesome photos for this post.
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