So...I did a thing.
A long thing, a wet thing.
Did I enjoy every minute? nope. Did I enjoy most of it? nope.
But, did I finish it? yes. Did I run every step? yes. Did I finish in 3h59m and 26 seconds? hell yeah!
THANK YOU to EVERY single one of you who donated and made it worth doing the thing. I won't do it again so don't worry...you will stop hearing about this very soon.
It was the hardest thing I've done physically, and almost as wet as the last horrid (virtual) London Marathon I did in 4h2m in 2020.
I AM happy, honest....but I think I'll only realise that in a day or two more. I'm aching but it's a nice ache and only going DOWN stairs hurts and I ain't picking anything of the floor any time soon.
BUT...without seeming arrogant, and I know Nicola Hunt gets it (thank you so much for saying exactly what's in my head), but I did think I could possibly hit 3h40m...looking at my 22 mile training run to Bedworth and back which I did in 3:00 including a fall at 19 miles only a few weeks ago...so 4 hours was a surprise. BUT as I'd written off that target by mile 20 when I was overtaken by the 3:55 pacers (obviously not MY pacers in the end) it was a pleasant one.
Why did it take me 20+ minutes more than I thought? why was every single step after Tower Bridge awful? I put it down to 'sensory overload'. From Saturday AM getting to London on shitty trains, getting to the Expo to pick up my number in 5 mins then getting back to the AirBnb (surely making this mandatory to do in person is all about trying to sell me more running tech I don't need), meeting Shiv and the girls who arrived later, trying to eat well, get some sleep, then getting up in Tower Hamlets and trying to eat something when the stomach said NO...finding out the Underground line to Lewisham was out of action, having to get 3 tubes to get to Blackheath (waiting for 4 trains before one has 3cm of space for me to fit in), walking up to the heath not even being able to see any of London on the horizon, queuing for the toilet I didn't even need because I'd been told I should, hanging around in the cold and wet for 90 mins then ALL that 'I don't know what is going on' in my head.
Once we had started it felt...ok....I did have a little space and quickly I started chatting to the lovely Amber who entertained and motivated me all the way to Tower Bridge....but then I 'let her go' to smash it in 3h42m. What I did know but didn't prepare for, I don't know how you could, was the noise, the cheering, the banging choons, the puddles, the desolate drab arse end of London for the first 13 miles (except a tiny bit of Cutty Sark) then another 10 of drab 'could be any city in the world' before the final ouchy 3 miles where you CAN see London but you just want to see a foil blanket.
4 hours of simultaneously trying to ignore the other 44,000 runners and having to be uber-aware where they are about to slow/stop inches in front of you, elbow past you or find a tiny gap to slip between them in a rare burst of speed. Exhausting and VERY different to a happy 13 miles to Kenilworth and back taking in the sights and smells of HS2.
Then the cheering was lovely, and I WISH I had put my name on my shirt...every 30 seconds...bloody 'GO AMBER YOU'RE SMASHING IT' whilst an older grumpier looking bloke got no love. I really WANTED to high five all the kids but by halfway I just didn't have anything to give them...
Then to nail my coffin, seeing so many obviously keen runners (in vests!) pulling up with cramp, lying on the street covered in coats and holding their loved one's hands over the barrier...thinking all the time 'my calves are going to cramp soon, that will be me' all the way to the line.
So...I've done it and that's a closed chapter I think. I know people say 'you'll change your mind' but I don't think I will. Those 34 seconds I think mean I don't feel I need to prove anything. I don't get my running mojo from races, medals or speed. Parkrun maybe...but I might have also reached my peak there with 22:03...
Back to solo running, early sunny mornings, podcasts on and my stats on Strava and fewer wobbly bits to motivate me.
BUT THANK YOU ALL for support, cash and love. xx
Especially Siobhán Harrison and my amazing girls who had a shit time in shit busy wet tiring London too.
Look at the face. That says it all

















