It would be difficult to start this blog any other way than with a huge THANK YOU to everyone who supported my London Marathon journey. Whether it be messages of good luck, donations or words of encouragement. They all really helped me get through one of the most challenging events I’ve ever endured.
As expected the heat was immense and having no experience of running in it, I didn’t really know what to expect, other than it would be hot and I needed to stay as cool as possible. My head was protected with a lightweight cap and I smothered myself in factor 50.
The next thing I know, we’re at the start line and it’s time to run! This year saw a new staggered start to ease the congestion of runners during the first few miles and it seemed to work. I was told by runners who’d done it in previous years, to expect a slow jog for the first few miles, but that wasn’t the case! We crossed the start line and were straight into our 10 minute mile pace.
From that moment it was a rollercoaster of emotions. One minute I’m enjoying the high fives on offer from spectators and the next I’m crying because a stranger has called my name. It was a lively party atmosphere with residents playing music, offering vegan treats, sweets and water. Some provided entertainment in the form of MC-ing and dancing. It was like a carnival!
There were 5 of us running for Niamhs Next Step Neuroblastoma Charity and Filomena was running for Cancer Research UK (Basically all of us were running to fund research into cancer.) Our team had a good mixture of injuries, aliments and running paces and it just so happened that Liz and I were closely matched. I’m very grateful for this as I can’t imagine having to endure the 26.2 miles alone… Something I’m in awe of our other team members doing.
Just before the Cutty Sark (which was loud and memorable) we passed Jesus. Yes, you read that right. A barefoot man running with a crucifix on his back, dressed as Christ the Lord. He received such admiration from the crowd, I wanted to be with Jesus forever, but his focus was so intense I wondered at one point if he was even human.
We approached Canada Water at mile 9 and caught a glimpse of my Husband Tony and Son Charlie! That felt really good and I was buzzing with excitement! As we ran on all Gazelle like, we could see the 4 hour pacemakers in front. This was new… could we really finish faster than predicted?
Our next famous land mark was Tower Bridge which was quite significant as this is the half way point. By now it was midday and the temperature was increasing. I took water at every drink stop, ran through the shower stations and took advantage of the firemans hose… (think what you like here!) Physically I was ok… mentally I was beginning to fight the inner voice. The one that says “you haven’t ran this distance for a while'” and “you’ve got ages until the end yet” and “are you sure you can do this?” I blocked it out and kept bringing myself into the present moment. I was not going to listen…. only now I’m running past runners vomiting, receiving medical attention and in some cases unconscious. Now my mind is really working against me. I go a little quite, and so does Liz… She is fighting the same battle.
I’m really beginning to feel the sun on my body now. I can’t work out if my vest is chaffing or if my arms are getting sun burn. I throw water over my head, on my red hot cheeks and down the back of my neck. There is slight relief, but I’m aware I need to keep some back to drink incase the hydration stations run dry. Despite there not being huge amounts of shade, we took what we could and tried to run out of direct sunlight.
I’d been really consistent with my gels and took 1 every 4 miles, but this one at mile 16 was not sitting right. Whether I had gulped air with it or my stomach was just empty, I don’t know, but it was laying heavy. I kept a little mantra in my head of “energy flows where intention goes” so tried to focus on what I could see and hear, rather than what was going on in my tummy. It worked as a guy standing alone on the road side bellowed out “Niamhs Next Step” at the top of his voice. I figured he must have been a relative of one of our teams family because of his excitement at seeing us.
Mile 20, I’m desperate for the loo, but I don’t want to stop. I grab a water, take a swig and realise the 6 miles remaining means another hour until we’re near the end. I can’t hold on any longer and make the decision to pee. I knew it would really hurt getting going again and it did. Even worse, I left my water in the loo and now I was really thirsty.
The next water station was mile 22 and I gulped down a few mouthfuls. The moment it reached my stomach I wanted to vomit. I was so hot, it felt like when I had sunstroke in Dubai. 10 years ago. I needed to lay down and get in the shade immediately… but this wasn’t part of the plan and I certainly didn’t want to stop Liz. I glanced over to her and she gestured a thumbs down. I asked if she was ok and she replied no, At this point we made a joint decision to walk… Either that or we wouldn’t make the finish.
The emotions were high and the self doubt came flooding back in, I needed to do something to get my head out of failure mode. I turned to a facebook live…
And thank goodness I did! After the post went live my watch started pinging with notifications of support, love and ‘keep going’. This was amazing and just what we needed. Thank you so much for reaching out to me here. We started running again and were not stopping now.
Mile 24, I notice my watch stops tracking, same with Liz’s. There’s no network coverage, GPRS or 4G as it’s totally clogged with overloaded usage. I’ve been telling myself for ages ‘it’s just like a run round the village’ only I don’t seem to be getting any nearer to home. I’m in my head again listening to the voice of doom when miraculously a call comes through and it’s my Dad! I can only hear him intermittently through my watch but I mange to pick up, “Keep hydrated, wet your head, and I love you.” The tears are back and I feel such eagerness to succeed. I notice the volume from the crowd is louder and the depth of people is thicker. We must be near the end I think.
My legs are full of pain, and I’m still glancing at my watch for any information regarding the distance we have left. A message appears from my sister saying “I’m tracking you all the way, we’re so proud of you” My mind’s frantic, she must know we’re close to the finish. As I glance up, in the distance I can see the scaffolding around Big Ben. I suddenly remember Tony saying “When you see Big Ben you’re on the home straight.” OMG we really are near the end!
We pass Westminster and the spectators are shouting us on and clapping. I can see the banners saying 800 Meters To Go. This is what I’ve been visualising for months. We’re just 5 minutes away from the finish. We turn right for The Mall and I can feel the tears on my face. Liz spots our friend in the crowd and we smile and wave with joy. The finish is in sight and I reach out my hand to Liz, who’s been with me every step of the way. She grabs it, raises it to the sky and we run through the finish like champions. I am so thrilled we are here, we made it, WE DID IT!
We were fortunate to get a live finish on the BBC so for everyone who’d been tracking us, saw us come through the finish line too! Here it is in the video below, just look for the yellow arrows on the bottom right screen first and then the bottom left.
Considering the conditions we ran in, I knew our predicted time would probably be slower. I’m proud we got to the finish in 4:55:44, but even prouder that the whole team completed. I am in awe of anyone doing that alone.
I have been asked if I’d do it again, to which I replied with “ABSOLUTELY NOT!’ But just from writing this blog and allowing the achievement to sink in… Yes I think I would do another one… just not this year!
The cancer charity we are raising money for is Niamh’s Next Step Neuroblastoma Charity, who are very proudly collaborating with Sparks to fund Professor Sala’s research project Mesenchymal stem cell delivery of therapeutic molecules as a novel gene therapy approach for neuroblastoma (15BRU01) which is currently taking place at Brunel University, London.
My fundraising page is still open if you wish to donate. Please just click the link below.
