My best ever marathon

It seems fitting today, as I watch thousands of incredible people take on possibly their greatest challenge, to re-visit the last time I ran the London marathon, which was my best ever marathon time....

(Taken from a personal blog posted some years ago)

I don’t know when it was exactly. I must’ve been around 7 or 8 or 9 years old. I was young, I know that much. Pretty much every Sunday in the year I would cross the road at 10.45 to go to Sunday School.

Every Sunday bar one.

Well, it was every Sunday until my parents realised just how into the event I was and so after a few years it became every Sunday bar one. I’d sit in front of our old TV and watch the London Marathon. I would be mesmerised by it. Thousands (it started in 1981 so when I started watching the numbers were in the thousands) of people, normal everyday people would line up and run or walk the 26-mile, 385-yard course. I absolutely loved it! The coverage, being on the BBC, was second to none. By the time I was about 12 I vowed that one day I, too, would run the hallowed course and earn my place in the pantheon of athletes. The elite group who can claim they have run a marathon.

Fast-forward to 1999. As the marathon is in April and my birthday is May, I couldn’t apply until I turned 18 and so I’d be running in the 2000 race. If I was accepted – which I wasn’t.

Nor was I accepted in 2001. Or 2002. The same again for 2003 but 2004 was my year! After years of watching the event on TV and years of rejection I would finally fulfil my dream of running the London Marathon! Then injury hit. I’d twisted my knee quite badly when I was 18 and had been palmed off with anti-inflammatories since. They barely worked, of course but I’d hit the gym and worked hard to strengthen the muscles around the knee to compensate. About a month before the 2004 race, I twisted my knee (as it was prone to doing) and had to defer my entry for a year.

2005 came around and I was ready. My first marathon and I was excited for it! And then it happened – after about 10 miles or so, I came off the pavement, landed awkwardly and my knee went. I crumpled to the floor. But I was not to be beaten! This wasn’t the first time it had happened to I stretched out my leg and carried on. It’s an exhausting race – both mentally and physically – and after 22 miles I had to walk for a while. Then I saw mum and dad and they lifted me so much I had to start running again. 4 hours 38 minutes – not bad for a first-timer!

But I know I could’ve done better – I wanted to be injury free and not need to walk. So I entered again for the following year. Entry to the London Marathon is an absolute lottery. There are guaranteed places if you run for a charity but you have to guarantee a minimum fundraising level so I’ve never gone in for that. 2006 was a no-go but 2007 was to see me take on the course again. Training went really well until I did a blistering 17-mile run in two hours. I felt great that evening but the following morning my ankle was in agony and I could barely walk – the stress of the run had been too much for it. I took two weeks off work and got through no end of ice to get fit again and I arrived at the start line ready and raring to go. One mile in, I went over on my ankle. Su. Perb. I manoeuvred it around and got the movement going and kept running. I got to somewhere on the Isle of Dogs before I couldn’t run any further and had to walk. Again, a few miles along the course and I saw the folks and the sight of them gave me such a lift I had to get running. 4 hours 19 minutes – I was pleased considering the injury.

But again, I walked some of it; I’d been injured. I was convinced I could get under 4 hours if only I could stay injury-free.

So I applied again. And again. And again. There used to be a system in place and, I believe, 2008 was the last time it was operational. If you were rejected on five consecutive occasions, you were guaranteed a place on the sixth attempt. And that is how I was accepted into the 2013 race. I trained hard. Really hard. I wanted to be faster and stronger than the previous attempts and I wanted to run the whole course, not walk some of it. Except about a month before I sprained my ankle. I thought I’d be able to be fit by the race but I’d have lost some of my speed and strength and I wouldn’t do myself justice. I was on a mission. So, like in 2004, I deferred a year. I’d eyed up the Leicester Marathon as a warm-up(!). As it was in October, I could train all summer and then it wouldn’t be too hard to keep the fitness up through the cold, winter months.

About a month before the race, the curse of the ankle struck again. Maybe I just don’t have the strength to complete such an endurance event? Maybe, I though, I’ll never “run” a marathon. So ultimately, I didn’t run the Leicester Marathon and I couldn’t differ entry. Shame, really.

But I was not to be put off. I’d proven I could run 18 miles and I’d proven I could do another 10 a couple of days later. The sprain was a freak occurrence, surely?

I trained through the winter, my pace seemingly getting quicker and quicker. As the training progressed I really felt I could break the 4-hour barrier and my pace was getting naturally, and comfortably, quicker.

D-day arrived. Sunday the 13th of April, 2014. I’d taken this event very seriously. I’d been “eating clean”, cutting right back on sweets, chocolate and crisps. Bread was reduced and what bread there was was wholemeal. 5 pieces of fruit and veg a day? Try 7 or 8. I’d never felt in better shape. I arrived at Blackheath Common ready for the off, knowing my water strategy and really believing I could get under 4 hours. If it didn’t get too hot, maybe even under 3.45.

The race was a dream. The crowd, incredible. Speaking to other runners after the race, they agreed that as runners or spectators, they’d never known a crowd like it. The Victoria Embankment – the last couple of miles or so – was chock-a-block. Running down it was like running through a continuous roar of encouragement. Everyone seemed to see my name on my vest and encourage me personally. They don’t know me from Adam but I can’t overstate the feeling of individual encouragement like that. I got my water strategy absolutely spot-on. My pace felt quick and it was – averaging around 7:30 per mile (my training pace had been about 50 seconds slower). In the latter stages, maybe miles 20 to 23, all I wanted to do was walk. By this time, sub-4 hours was in the bag and even sub-3.45 was all but nailed on. But I dug deep. Deeper than I’ve dug to find the reserves to keep running.

I passed the mile 23 marker and saw the time – 3 hours 5 minutes. If I could find 3 sub-8 minute miles I’d achieve a feat that had only really happened in my wildest dreams. I dug further. I picked up my knees and went for it. At each mile I checked the elapsed time and I was just outside. The fact that the timer started at 10am and I didn’t cross the start line until maybe a minute later pushed me on. Time was ticking away and so were my reserves of energy. I don’t think I was even running on fumes.

800 metres to go…

600 metres to go…

385 yards to go… this was it. I put my head up, looked ahead and drank thirstily at my final reserves of energy. My legs were like lead; my shoes, concrete. But I pushed on. I’d fought off the urge to walk and by buggery I was going to keep going now! I rounded the corner at the Victoria Memorial and the finish line was there in all its splendour. The timer had already ticked passed 3.30 but I knew I was still in with a shout of beating it because of my delayed start. I passed under the hoarding that read FINISH and I cried. I was exhausted. The crowd had already almost brought me to tears, through their encouragement and my own exhaustion. Unofficially, my time was 3.31:00. I wouldn’t find out until later that evening that my actual race time was 3.29:27.

All I’d wanted was to beat 4 hours. If things went my way then 3.45 was possible. Beating 3.30 was truly the stuff dreams were made of.

After this race I felt a little despondent - I only ever wanted to run a marathon and I'd now achieved that with a time I never thought I'd achieve and wouldn't come close to again without a significant increase in training which I just didn't have the time for.

Well I certainly blew the despondency away, moving on to park run challenges, and then upping the ante considerably with my ultra challenge! And now on to the next challenge, that will hopefully include another London marathon in the coming years. The elite runners haven't even finished the 2021 race and I've already entered the ballot for 2022!