They think it’s all over…

….it isn’t now! It should be all over. I did what I set out to. I completed the London Marathon yesterday in 4.5 hours, and thanks to the huge generosity of the readers of this blog, and others, raised over £2000 for the RNIB in the process.

But to my huge surprise, I think I may have developed a thirst for this running thing. While I don’t enjoy the actual bit in trainers, running vest and shorts pounding the streets, the feeling you get when it is all over is fantastic. I found myself agreeing to enter both the Great North Run and next year’s London Marathon in the post event euphoria, although I may yet come to my senses.

Also this rash enthusiasm may have been purely the influence of Guinness at the post-event party as my self-imposed three month alcohol moratorium came to an end.

The marathon is much more than a run; it is a rich and vibrant experience, with great camaraderie, spirit, noise, colour and endurance in evidence. Although being overtaken by a Cornish pastie was a somewhat humbling experience.

It is the hundreds of thousands of spectators who line the streets of London that make this event that extra bit special. Their shouted encouragement, and enthusiasm, even when the hail was beating down, cannot be underestimated, and put a spring back into even the most weariest runner’s step. I thank you all.

I would also like to pay tribute to the lady handing out fruit cake to the runners around the 20 mile mark. This was truly the finest fruit cake I have ever eaten and it was only strong willpower, and of course intense fatigue, that prevented me from turning around and going back for a second slice. Mrs Beeton eat your heart out.

Thanks again to all who donated, and for those who didn’t, there is still time!

And afraid I’m going to be rattling the collecting tin again around September time in the lead up to the Great North Run.

Watch this space!

The (very slow) time is nigh

In only a few more days this madness will be over. Quite why I decided to enter the Marathon has been completely lost in the mists of early morning jogs, but the torment is nearly done. Just the 26.2 miles to go.

I’m in the taper down period at the moment. This means that with one week left until the Marathon, activity is scaled down by 75%. For me this has basically meant lying back in the sofa doing some heavy lifting with the TV remote control.

Sunday can’t come quickly enough now, even though I am going to spend a large proportion of it pounding the streets of London. It will be very strange to be surrounded (or rather) following 50,000 fellow joggers, having spent the past three months running alone in the deserted Oxfordshire countryside.

The nearest I have come to a crowd was a couple of weeks ago when I stayed in London. I surprised myself by going for a 6.00 a.m. jog in Hyde Park. I had assumed I would pretty much have the place to myself but in the event was trying to keep my head above a sea of Lycra being worn by at least three genders of jogger.

The were runners of all ages, shapes and sizes, in bright reds, purples, greens, blues and yellows. The only thing they had in common was that they all were moving really fast.

I have immense respect for everyone who has ever completed the Marathon, and for those who will complete it on Sunday. Everyone understands the Marathon is difficult, but until you attempt to run it yourself you don’t realise just how bloody difficult, difficult can be

I would like to say a big thank you to all the very generous people, many anonymous, who have donated over the past three months, and a huge thank you to my unofficial but scarily efficient fundraising team, Claire and Nic.

Another big thank you to all of you who donate after reading this post.