OMG – I ran the London Marathon

Miles this week                     The London Marathon 2011

Time                                       5:08:35

Place – overall                      25,134            (34,710)        

Place – women                     7,443              (12,257)

Place – category                  1,245              (1,908)

Money raised                        £1,300 and climbing

() Show finishers in this category

If you like stats, visit my results page.

[The official photos will be posted there soon.]

"I tell our runners to divide the race into thirds.

Run the first part with your head, the

middle part with your personality, and

the last part with your heart."

Mike Fanelli, running club coach

Marin County, CA

(Thank you, Kerry)

We did it: SG and I ran the London Marathon!


Superlatives just about capture how I’m feeling.

It has been incredible: the training with its highs and lows; the fundraising which you have all made so very easy; and, of course, the Big One itself. A truly wonderful journey – and one I can’t believe I’ve taken.

And I’m feeling surprisingly good. I can walk and talk, and I’m still beaming. In fact, I’m feeling more emotional than exhausted.

Here goes – forgive me if I blub whilst typing...

Race Report

Despite the M1 closure, we had an excellent run down on Saturday, and were parked up at our accommodation by 11.30am. This left plenty of time to register at the sprawling ExCel London, have a gentle afternoon in the capital, and meet the fabulous Heart Research UK team in the evening – before cramming a huge, carbed-up dinner of cannelloni and salad into my face.

Sleep was rather elusive on Saturday night, but following Denise’s (HRUK) advice, I snuggled down and relaxed with the idea that by just resting my limbs I was training very hard: love it.

Central London was fairly quiet on Sunday morning when we started our journey out to Greenwich. The sky was grey and the air was cool, but I was sweating and shaking like a crazy thing. Sharing nervous greetings with the handful of other runners at Moorgate Tube station was lovely – as was the cheery good luck from the smiley attendant on the barrier who let me travel gratis. I’ve never known London to be so jolly and chatty.

Once we climbed aboard the DLR at Bank, things started to busy up. Instead of its workaday sombre mood, the train was vibrant – buzzing with excited people all gearing up for the day. I’m sure it was fuller than capacity: you can really squeeze those string-bean running-types into a carriage.

When we left the train at Greenwich, the cloud started to lift and the sun came out, offering our first glimpse of the baking day ahead. It was also the point at which I didn’t have to worry about directions anymore. I fell in line and followed which was all I had to do for the rest of the day really.

I left CM safely with SG’s family at the park gates, received the first of many nourishing race hugs and went in search of SG.

Meeting her in the runners’ area was a huge relief. I was terrified I wouldn’t find her and would have to face the long miles alone.

After depositing our bags on the numbered trucks (fantastic bit of logistics), we did the needful. Whilst queuing, we chatted to Sarah, another marathon novice who was running solo. We stuck together for the Start, but lost her in the crowd once we hit Greenwich: I hope she had a fabulous day.  

Joining the throng in Starter Pen Eight was mind-blowing: so many people, so much excitement and anticipation, so overwhelming. I couldn’t believe I was there.

In fact, throughout the day, I found myself saying really daft things like, “Hey, look at us running the London Marathon...”

I blame the heat.

Which was stiflingly exhausting. SG – a marathon veteran – says she has never known it so hot or seen so many people walking and struggling – and so determined to battle on.

The day was made up of fantastic moments and victories. And although I’d loved to ramble on for hours, here’s a collection of snapshots from the day.

The noise when we swept into the centre of Greenwich from the park was thunderous. I was gobsmacked that so many people were lining the streets, willing us on. And it didn’t stop. I don’t think any point along the route lacked a roaring cacophony of cheering and clapping to carry us along.

I’ve not touched so many grubby, little hands since working as a primary school classroom assistant years ago. The squeals of excitement from the younger members of the crowd as we gently high-fived them in passing were so heart-warming and encouraging.

Some outstretched hands were offering water, juice and – the runners’ staple – jelly babies. I hadn’t anticipated such wonderful generosity. The crowd really was one giant support team. It was staggering.

Arriving at Tower Bridge – which has been something I’ve been excited about for weeks – really made me choke up. Then, as we curved east to head into Docklands, an oh-so-familiar baritone bull-frogged my name and there was my Dad ready for a big, sweaty hug. The crowd shifted a little and there was Mum.

Fantastic!

In all, I had five hug-stops en route which fuelled me up good and proper.

After the heat of the city’s streets, descending in to the cool canyons of Canary Wharf was delicious. Gazing from the depth of shadows up the sheer walls of glass into an eye-wateringly blue sky was dizzying.

Then, because running 26.2 miles just isn’t enough, there were the crazy costumes to wonder at. We spotted a positive zoo of animals – a camel, a giraffe, a horse, a pride of lions, rhinos, a tiger; all kinds of hardware – a spitfire and a washing machine; a strength of superheroes – Batman, Spiderman and Superman; the emergency services – the police (who gamely took cheers and boos), nurses, and firemen (with oxygen tanks); the forces with heavy backpacks; a bride and groom; and, of course, Lloyd Scott aka Brian the Snail who is still going now.

Now, I cry all over again. I’m so proud of us. We hit The Wall early on, but simply changed our costumes, melting into ghosts to run right through it.

Which made crossing the red line on the Mall hand-in-hand and grinning like loons a phenomenal moment – and a fitting finish to at least 1,000 shared miles.

Apologies, but whilst I’m teary and being a drama-queen, I’m going to come over all Gwyneth Paltrow and say my multitude of thanks:

...to my Mum, Dad and CM for being a top Support Team

...to all my friends, family and colleagues who are so encouraging and supportive

...to HRUK – for taking a chance on me and letting me be part of this amazing thing

...to everyone who made my fundraising total so enormous

...to you for ploughing through the blog

...to SG’s family for sparing her so we could train

And, of course, to SG for being the ultimate running buddy: with me every step of the way to London – and beyond, I hope.

Thank you to you all – till next time!

Please visit my fundraising page at

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/PaulaHamill

On your marks...

Days to go                 Four

Miles today                A big fat zero – see below

Miles this week         A big fat zero – see below

Miles last week         23

Miles 2011                415

Other exercise          Now you’re just rubbing it in – see below

Oh, my good gosh, it’s almost here. Today is Wednesday and Sunday’s marathon is eagerly waiting, looking at its watch and drumming its fingers impatiently, keen to be under starter’s orders and off.

Me? I’m just plain old terrified...

And nursing an injury – which is a phrase I’d hoped would not feature in this blog.

I’ve double checked all the information and checklists explaining what to do during the last few days before the Big One and not one of them says anything about sustaining an injury. So, what am I playing at?

My ridiculous left leg chose Sunday to kick off. Not last year; a month ago; not even last Wednesday. No, Sunday: a week to the day before the Big One. I woke up with a calf tangled with cramp. I could barely move and struggled through the day with gritted teeth.

The gut-knotting misery has thankfully eased – a hot bath, plenty of Voltarol and a sports massage can work wonders – but my left calf is still tender. I’ve had to shelve my plans for some final keeping-warm-miles. Instead, I have been hobbling about like an aged crone and looking about as far from the image of a honed athlete as you can possibly get – which I think, at the moment, is 26.2 miles.

Thankfully, most of the other things I should be getting on with during this important week of preparation for the Big One are achievable with a hop-along leg.

Mostly, I should be resting. Yip – can do. Am doing: under protest. What I really want to be doing is lacing up my ASICS, heading out into the sunshine and up through the woods for a gentle six miles.

Harumph!

I also need to be getting some early nights and sleeping my way to marathon success. I’m trying my best on this one, but at this time of year my naughty Kitty is keen to be up with the larks – and chasing them round the garden. So, she has resorted to some terrible tactics to demand release into the dawn: crashing onto the bed most undaintily, boxing me on the nose and yowling at full volume.

Not good Kitty behaviour, I tell her, and not good marathon preparation. She blinks at me, nonplussed; shrugs her shoulders and yomps back to the window sill. She allows me enough time to drift off again before coming back to deliver another duvet-stomping, nose-boxing, Jericho-bashing wake-up call.

Eating plenty of the right stuff is also on the to-do list. It is essential that I carb up over the next couple of days. Managing that nicely by chucking in some extra cake rations just to be on the safe side. Well, it’s imperative that I’m fully fuelled for Sunday.

According to Marathon News, I should also be packing carefully and preparing the bits and bobs all participants must cram into their kit bag. There are the obvious things like a variety of running outfits (you never can tell with the English spring weather), race number and chip, warm clothes for afterwards (what a lovely sounding word), spare change, a drink and bite to eat, sun cream, and Vaseline.

And loo roll.

Now, I’m not sure what innovations have been adopted in the south in recent months, but the last time I visited the capital I’m sure that all conveniences were equipped with this needful product. Or have things moved on? Is loo roll the quaint preserve of tourists from the north?

Talking of which, I must also remember my passport...

No, seriously. North-south jibes aside: no id, no race registration. No registration, no number. No number, no race. And what a big, fat disappointment that would be after all this hard work. There would be tears – and lots of them.

Plus, I was thrilled to learn that runners can enjoy free – yes, it bears repeating, free – Underground travel on the day. All you have to do is flash your race number at London Transport staff and you’re off.

I absolutely definitely want that number – and not just for the free Tube ride.

Despite my stoooooopid left calf and even stoooooopider left calf muscles, I will be heading south on Saturday and wearing my number as I run/stagger/crawl around London on Sunday. Wild horses, etc...

I’m genuinely looking forward to running the Big One with SG – even though it’s really gonna hurt. I’m also keen to meet the lovely people from Heart Research UK who have been so supportive and encouraging over the past 10 weeks or so. And I can’t wait to be on the receiving end of a huge hug from CM and my Mum and Dad at the finish. Sorry – I’ll be all hot and stinky.

So, it just remains to say: please send positive go-faster vibes, keep all flexible digits crossed, watch the telly, and make lots of noise for 43020 (SG) and 40334 (me).

See you on the other side – for my (final) post-marathon post.

Please visit my fundraising page at

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/PaulaHamill

Warm up, step out, warm down (fall down)

Days to go                 11 (“Good grief, Charlie Brown!”)

Miles today                0

Miles this week         6 (another 16-20 planned)

Miles last week         40

Miles 2011                398

Other exercise          Yoga

“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”

Haruki Murakami

This week, dear Reader, I start with a confession.

The Fear has landed.

In fact, it snuck up on me unexpectedly 10 days or so ago: the Saturday I was due to join SG for our final long training run of 22 miles. Poor SG succumbed to her umpteenth cold of the season, and so it was left to me to hit the road alone. I’m sorry to say, I simply couldn’t.

My shoes were at the door. My pocket bulged with gels. My water-bottle was full. My toes were taped; my hair, plaited; my SportsBand, strapped on. I was dressed and ready to go. I made my final trip upstairs to the bathroom and then, instead of skipping downstairs and out the door, I found myself hiding under the duvet, sobbing and snivelling and feeling terribly sorry for myself.

It all seemed too much: too big a challenge and too far. I couldn’t imagine myself leaving the house and plodding along the lanes and tracks to reach two miles let alone 22. My legs were lead and my heart was heavier.

When CM returned home after a morning of chores, he found me in a soggy disconsolate heap. He coaxed me from my pit and made me face the rest of the day.

Although the afternoon was punctuated with dry, rattling sobs and deep sighs, I got over myself – and on Sunday, SG and I headed out for a gentle six miles.* Since then, I have run 34 more, and broken in my new shoes which are proudly laced with my red charity laces, ready for the Big One.

*  Thank you, SG, for bravely dragging yourself out. Sorry it made you sicker. If needs be, I’ll give you a piggy-back in London.

Before you rush to logon to see if it’s too late to get a refund on your sponsorship, apparently, this kind of wobble – let’s politely call it – is perfectly natural. Even elite runners get the jitters from time to time. In fact, it seems okay to write at least one such episode into your marathon training schedule.

The advice from all quarters seems to be that a marathon is no laughing matter – not sure if that includes the maniacal, hysterical shrieks I find myself emitting from time to time – and the mileage must be respected. Before considering the challenge, you need to have been running “seriously” for at least a year: 25 miles per week over four or five sessions.

Once you have decided you’re ready to attempt the marathon challenge, you must draw up a training schedule and gradually build the mileage. OMgoodG! This sounds so sensible and calculated. And it’s so not how I initially increased my miles. No wonder I feel rather wobbly.

It’s obviously a week for confessions. Here’s how I upped my mileage: I got lost. I missed my way. I mislaid myself. I left home to do six miles or so and finally staggered home about a hundred minutes later, having run 10.

This got me thinking about the possibility of a half-marathon. It was not, at first, a calculated, conscious decision. It was an accident, a mistake. A couple of missed turnings and I found myself – albeit unconsciously at the time – en route to the London Marathon 2011.

And the mileage is only part of the story. As well as getting my legs used to pootling along at a steady, comfortable pace for hours on end, I have to train my lungs, brain and upper body – presumably so that when my feet are worn out I can trot along on my hands.

Key to transforming myself into a honed running machine is cross-training. This isn’t a description of my state of mind whilst running in the wind and rain, it is more about mixing up my exercise regime in preparation for the Big One. As if running weren’t enough, I really ought to be indulging in other forms of exercise to strengthen various muscle groups and improve my aerobic activity and recovery.

But to be honest, my exercise diet was rather more varied prior to embarking on this marathon malarkey. Each week, I used to select from a menu of running, swimming, cycling, gardening and yoga as well as walking uphill and down dale of a Sunday. Now my activity carte du jour has been reduced to running, gardening and yoga. There just aren’t enough hours in the week to squeeze in all the miles, my chores, a full-time job and a rest-day every now and then.

Still, yoga is a good partner for running, apparently. It strengthens my core whilst unknotting and stretching muscles scrunched and tangled by high-impact sports. Its focus on the breath, marrying of mind and body, and immersion in the here and now are also important to efficient,

injury-free running. And it seems to be helping. Certainly, I have found Savasana particularly useful and tend to adopt it after every run.

Practising yoga really does help with the flexibility, but I know that I don’t do enough of a warm up and warm down either side of each run. I’ve seen seasoned athletes prepare for the few events I’ve entered and their warm up would be enough to exhaust me for the day let alone prepare my muscles for the long-distance race ahead. And the last thing I feel like doing after running 13 miles or so is trying to touch my toes while my hamstrings scream like banshees.

One thing I do seem to have got right is hill-training. Apparently, climbing hills builds your stamina and works your muscles far more than flat running. I live in a rather undulating area so I tell myself that each of my miles is worth far more than those covered in less hilly terrain. London is supposed to be a flat course, so look out for me skipping around it like a carefree little mountain goat...

It’s positive thinking like this that keeps you going. All of the marathon gurus stress the importance of affirmative thoughts and mantras. Visualisation is also popular: see yourself outstripping the field; imagine crossing the finish line with a big smile on your face; watch yourself eating that huge slab of cake after the last killer mile...

SG and I try to adhere to this optimistic way of thinking and running (see The loneliness of the long distance runner, 4 March). As well as our favourite maxims, we also ban certain negative four and two letter words. Neither of us is allowed to utter the vile syllable “hill” or the noxious sound “up” when we are training. We substitute them with “straight” and “along”. So, we run “along here a bit” and “straight over to Bloominghillfordby”. It works a treat and those cursed straight-alongs don’t hurt anywhere near as much.

One word we do enjoy is “taper”: “cutting back on the distance and intensity of training runs during the two-week period prior to the marathon”.

Woohoo and hallelujah!

Tapering also requires us to keep stretching; build up food reserves and stay hydrated; have a leg massage and treat blisters and calluses.

Can do.

Resting and being fresh for the Big One is essential. When you look at the stats, it makes sense. Since first using my SportsBand in January, I have run 398 miles; burnt 37,838 calories; and pounded the streets for 65 hours and 26 minutes.

And so, dear Reader, when you cheer for SG and me on Sunday 17 April and we smile and wave back, please remember that it’s not just the 26 miles round London that we have to conquer. They’re just the tip of the iceberg, the icing on the cake. You are witnessing the last few hours of a journey spanning more than 12 months and several hundred miles.

So, though it’s going to hurt like heck and I know I’m going to cry with the sheer joy and agony of it all, London is the gala performance. It is has got to be my bestest, happiest running yet.

Please visit my fundraising page at

http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/PaulaHamill