Lucky No. 7

Having fun in the sun at the 12 mile mark

Well it’s been a while once again since the last post, but also since the heat of the London marathon. My beautiful tan-line is now finally starting to diminish and it’s back into getting the training miles done in preparation for Edinburgh.

But before we head north of the border, let’s return to London, and update you on what happened there. The day itself kicked off unhealthily early in order to head south of the river towards the Greenwich start. It had been a tantalising week of weather forecast watching, as the BBC went from ridiculously hot, to heavy rain showers and finally settling for a calm and cloudy 16 degrees, it promised to be perfect running conditions.

And so I woke, looking forward to getting the miles under my belt in cool, calm conditions, but instead got a bold blue sky and a sun picking up heat pretty early. So I made my way down to lovely Greenwich, via a nightmarishly busy London Bridge. Fortunately this was the only poorly organised part of the day, where trains were coming in on all sorts of different platforms and it seemed to be pot luck as to where you ended up. Luckily for me on the third time around while meeting up with my brother on a different platform (who was also running the marathon as Banana Man) I managed to find a train going in the right direction!

One packed train journey later and I was at Blackheath, the sun getting steadily hotter and the butterflies in my belly rumbling even more. I don’t understand how running in a race can make you want to go to the toilet so much,  but I must have been about 6 times in the run-up to the start, at one point even ducking out of the queue to begin to make a quick trip to the urinals. But none the less eventually I managed to get to and over the start line, only to once again have to stop pretty soon afterwards due to the sheer number of people trying to run, and the number of spectators gradually inching in from the pavement trying to catch a glimpse of their friend or relative starting out.

Caught out in the act of having a cheeky walk

Not long after this I breezed past Peter Andre who had stopped for an interview very early on – unfortunately somehow I missed Katie, how could I see Peter, and not Katie! But I was feeling in pretty good form, it was getting hotter but I was sticking to the shadows and taking on plenty of liquids and seemed to be going fairly fast (indeed looking at my split times up to the half way stage I was running comfortably under 9 minute miles which would have put me on for a new PB of about 3hrs 45 minutes). I’d also been given an additional boost after seening my friends and family at the 12 mile marker – with banner in hand (Paul, I still owe you that pint), and was feeling so strong that I just flew past them, barely even acknowledging their presence! So sorry about that folks.

Unfortunately it all started to turn a little sour after that, I got over Tower Bridge and headed out to my most dreaded part of the London Marathon which is the twisting roads out to the east in Canary Wharf and suddenly my guts started to feel as if they were gonna drop out of me (so to speak). Unfortunately there was nothing for it but to make a tactical pit-stop which ate into my time massively. Although thinking about this in retrospect having seen (or rather smelt) a lady at the 24 mile mark with brown stains running down her running bottoms and legs, I think I made the right decision in the end! Indeed after that point I swear I lost even more time just treble checking that I hadn’t fallen foul of a similar fate.

Once I’d made my pit-stop though things got even worse and I was really struggling in my running on the way out to Canary Wharf and then on my way back into the Centre after it. While running I’m vowing to myself that I will never put myself through this again, and then the grim realisation hits me that I have another marathon to do in a month, and another three after that even. I’m not even half way through my challenge at the moment.

Quick kiss for the camera woman at Cannon Bridge

However I was still running, and I was hoping that after the 21 marker I’d get a second wind and go through the wall with a fresh burst of energy, which is what happened when I ran London in 2005. The energy and the emotion of the crowd cheering on seemed to give me fresh vitality and I was able to breeze the final few miles that year. Unfortunately this time no such lift happened, but I was determined to keep running until I’d seen my wife and mum and dad for the second time. She’d texted that they were stood just past London Bridge so I persevered through the pain trying to keep my head up and scouting all around for any sign of them. London Bridge passed me by and no sign, I kept going under bridges in fact and still no sign, until in my distress I finally had to stop and walk for a little. Only then did I see them stood underneath Cannon Street Bridge, so it was immediately back into jogging mode and struggling on through. They managed to pick my spirits up a little though and I managed to jog onwards until going underneath the embankment’s under pass where I had to stop once again, and very ineffectively administer some cramp relief to a very distressed looking man (sorry if it was no use whatsoever!). But from there it was on to the home straight and while the crowds at the London Marathon are simply incredible all the way round, this is where they absolutely come into their own – cheering and shouting and encouraging at ridiculously loud decibels. It might not sound very pleasant, but it certainly gives you a much needed boost. In fact the crowd of the London marathon was the main thing that inspired me to particpate in my first ever marathon, and I think most people that walk away from that crowd will at least consider entering themselves for the ballot for next year’s marathon, at least for a few seconds!

So I keep going, pass my friend from work, LJ, cheering on like crazy and that gives me the impetus to finally crack on to that incredible final bend, with the very grateful sign of just 200 m to go, and I’m passing the Queen’s gaff realising that I’ve once again not beaten the four hour mark so a personal best is well out, but hey ho, I give it my all for a final spurt and unfortunately my legs just aren’t able to manage it and so I cross the line very gratefully and very wearily after 4 hours 5 minutes and 20 seconds, a whole 15 seconds behind the great Gordon Ramsey – a man that always beats me at London, and unfortunately once again I’ve been foiled.

Banana man and Eric after completing London

It’s a struggle just to keep walking out and at this point I would have been grateful for a little bit of the chaos of Paris just so I can stop and rest a little, but unfortunately the organisation is super slick and I’m straight through and in need of another pit-stop just to make sure! On my way out though I’m even more humbled as I hear of a lady crossing the finishing line about 5 minutes after me who had completed her fifth marathon in five days, running from Market Harborough to London and then completing the London Marathon. An incredible feat, and one that makes my challenge seem decidedly lite-weight (perhaps next year?), even though I’m struggling with this one. I can’t remember her name, but whoever she was she certainly deserved that lovely last Flora medal.

At least it’s finished I tell myself and I’m now going in search of that post-run tonic of a pint. As I walk to meet my friends and family who are waiting for Banana man to come past I’m strolling (hobbling) down the Strand only to find complete strangers congratulating me and saying well done! I found this particularly touching and it must certainly be the friendliest I’ve ever seen the City! If only we all wore random athletics medals or things from other achievements on the tube and bus, maybe this place could be the chirpiest and nicest place on earth! Anyway, it puts me in a great mood and eager to get that pint in, so it’s a relief to hear Banana man is rumping home, albeit it with a significant amount of chafing, and a slightly limp looking blow-up banana in an impressive time of just under 5 hours, particularly considering the heat and the ridiculous suit.

Post-race analysis on Marathon of the day

Since then I seem to have come through London relatively unscathed, no dodgy knees, no heat stroke, and a nice amount of time-off before heading up to Edinburgh for what their website promises me is the fastest marathon in the UK (so fingers crossed!). Since then my comment about inspiring the crowd into signing up to the following year’s marathon must be true, as two of my friends (LJ, Paul and myself and my brother) who were at the marathon have put our names in the ballot for 2010 and another friend who wasn’t even there has also signed themselves up. So fingers crossed that the right magazine plops through the door sometime in October for the first ever Virgin marathon. Indeed there must be a bit of running fever going on, as my brother (aka banana man) and Paul have also signed up to run the final marathon of my challenge with me in September in New Forest, so that piss-up is looking better all the time. While other members of my friends and family are now signing up to do half-marathons and 10ks all over the place. Again that’s something that’s been particularly heartning to see that other people seem to be getting a bit of inspiration from rocking up to watch the marathon to putting on their running shoes and cracking into training. Keep it up folks!

Ok best leave it at that for now! We’ve actually got some lovely film footage from London, largely of me bounding up to the camera, kissing the camera woman (my wife, not a stranger) and then doing my best to leg it off again! I’ll try and get that up soon, but for now you’ll just have to cope with a few piccies!