London Marathon 2009 - the full story

I travelled down on the Friday from Whitland station with a ticket from Carmarthen, arriving at Paddington mid afternoon. From there we dropped off our bags at the Civil Service Club on Great Scotland Yard and set off for the Marathon exhibition at Excel. On Great Scotland Yard there are tall buildings, which amazingly house the police and military horses. Sort of like a horse hotel. There are ramps inside so that the horses can go upstairs to their pads after a hard day horsing around. I bet they have TVs to watch their heart throbs Black Beauty and Mr Ed. And I thought the horse went to nice fields outside London to graze to their hearts content.

Anyway at the exhibition I showed my passport, signed for my number, 33611 and the wandered around the stands. I joined in the big pasta party watching a running fashion show and Olympic athlete Liz Yelling’s last minute advice that included not going off too quickly- this proves my memory is like a sieve, it only took me one day to forget it!

After sharing the growing sense of anticipation at Excel fellow Trots and me made our way back to our temporary abode at the club and rested for the evening. No partying tonight and no beer. I had to abstain for two nights! The reason for travelling on the Friday was to complete the registration and leave Saturday to relax without pressure or tiring activities leaving us fresh for Sunday morning. Saturday evening we booked for a pasta meal an Italian restaurant on the Strand - and still no wine! The reason for the obsession with pasta is that it is carbohydrate rich supplying plenty of energy which I would certainly require. Also, pasta makes you run fasta! Bed at 10.30pm although I only slept sporadically on both Friday and Saturday nights.

Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. My two alarms and the hotel call woke me at 6.15pm and I made my way to a breakfast of tea, juice, porridge, banana and toast. I also picked up some bananas to eat at Blackheath. You have to remember that I will still be running approaching 2 o’clock, about seven hours since a meal. It’s no wonder that energy supplies run low. I put my kit on, number, checked my essential supplies- plasters, Vaseline, gels, drinks, sweatbands and placed plasters over my blisters on the balls of my right foot, a result of training. I put my St. Florence School top on to keep me warm and we set of from Charing Cross Station for Blackheath. The train journey was quite surreal with the train packed so early in the morning with other runners, armed with drinks and all mentally preparing for the task ahead. It was a mixture of excitement yet everyone with their own personal thoughts.

At Blackheath we made our way with the never-ending trail of runners up to the start area. There I bade my fond farewells, leaving the rest of the Trots at their blue start and strolled across the red start area. Once there I settled down in the shade with my food and watched the throng of runners and the huge video screen giving a running commentary on the countdown to the start. I also negotiated the queues to the loos several times, although I did find the ‘splash and dash’ area very useful! At about 8.45 I managed to meet up with Jeff Partridge, fellow ‘Action for Children’ runner, so it really eased my nerves to be able to sit and chat as we waited for the command to load our kit bags onto our numbered truck. The trucks would lumber out of the area as we were starting to miraculously meet us again in the Mall around four hours later- simply superb organisation.

At 9.15am Jeff and I wished each other luck and made our way to our respective ‘pens’ or allocated start points according to expected time. To my surprise I found that I was in pen 3, very close to the front of the red start with some serious looking athletes around me. So I tried to look professional, bouncing around a little, a few gentle stretches and more ‘splash and dash’!

As 9.45 approached the excitement mounted and I just prayed nothing would go seriously wrong, that the training would stand me in good stead.

The claxon sounded and we were off on the London Marathon 2009! The starting pace was fairly brisk but with the adrenalin flowing I found it ok. After a few miles I checked my garmin to see I was running at 8:35 mins/ mile pace, 15-20 seconds faster than planned so I eased back but only to 8:36/ mile. Still I felt fine and I thought that at this pace I would build up some leeway to get under 4 hours, ignoring the fact that a marathon eventually catches up with you. I should have stuck to my planned 8:55/ mile. The first 12 miles continued the same with a constant pace of 8:36/ mile when I came to Tower Bridge. The one thing that strikes you along the way is the noise of the crowd. It never subsides and as you cross Tower Bridge the deafening shouts of encouragement send a tingle down your spine, even now as I write. I heard people shouting ’Go on Chris’ and remember thinking ‘how do they know my name’ the realised I had it printed on my vest! To be honest it’s a little like being famous for 15 minutes, having the crowds urging you (and thousands others) on. This is one of the really enjoyable parts of the marathon. You are still fresh enough to respond and interact with the supporters, as I did passing the ‘Action for Children’ supporters at 13 miles in no uncertain fashion.

After Tower Bridge you turn right, or east into docklands taking you in the opposite direction from the finish. At this stage through 15-19 miles I was starting to feel tired. The buildings are so tall there is no breeze, the course is narrow and it became more fiddly and claustrophobic. Even the crowd noise echoes around your head deafeningly. I had to focus and work harder just to maintain a reasonable pace and knew I was slowing but unable to really respond. I had taken on water at almost every mile post and ate my gels more or less to schedule, although I lost one somewhere along the way. By this time I was feeling the heat and pouring water over myself and taking advantage of the showers en route to cool down.

After emerging from Docklands, where I saw Katie Price entering, there are some underpasses, which are strangely quiet with focused concentration and the unceasing patter of runners’ feet. It was along this stretch where I saw an alarming numbers of runners being sick, sitting down, flat out or being given oxygen on stretchers. In the final underpass I moved across to a lucozade station for a drink and gratefully received it from the volunteer. It was then I realised the person actually giving me encouragement and a drink was none other than Liz Yelling, our Olympic marathon runner. Liz is around six months pregnant and she still came down to a drink station to support, and in a sense, participate in the event. Spurred on I pushed up to the embankment with the Millennium Wheel in the distance thinking maybe I still had a chance of running under 4 hours. It was as Big Ben approached that I realised this was not possible so eased of a little along Birdcage Walk which seemed to go on forever and then turned in front of Buckingham Palace into the Mall.

By this time I was very hot and utterly drained but did my best to appear as sprightly as it were possible to be, not very, the photos from the Mall show me looking exhausted- where did that photographer spring from- I must have been too tired to notice! I did however take a chance to have a last view from the marathon itself at the amazing crowds before crossing the finish line with arms up in celebratory fashion. I had finished in 4 hours 3 minutes and 34 seconds, and had paid for being carried along on the early pace. Nevertheless I was glad under the hot conditions to have finished in a reasonable time and my higher position than previous years bore this out.

Immediately afterwards I was ushered along the line to receive THE medal and then have a photo taken in front of a set background. It’s not easy trying to look fresh after 26.2 miles but I did my best before being moved along to make way for the next recipient. Note- always take a comb! A comical moment occurred when I had to climb a ramp to have my timing chip removed. I tried to go up the ramp but my legs wouldn’t respond initially- imagine having a hill immediately after finishing! Following this I collected my kit bag, goody bag and tee shirt and then sat down on the kerb in the Mall to take in the atmosphere. The range of languages and national flags surprised me although it shouldn’t have in such an event. I then wandered aimlessly down the Mall and was delighted to be greeted by an ‘Action for Children’ volunteer who took my bags and led me with others back to the Civil Service club to the post race reception, not realising I was actually staying there anyway!

One of the most memorable moments came as I entered the gates of the Civil Service Club with my medal around my neck. A cheer came from both the ‘Action for Children’ and the Trot supporters. I was then escorted to the reception and a well earned massage which I’m sure helped me through the rest of the day. Following a quick snack I settled down in the bar with other Trots, runners and Jeff Partridge who had arrived after a great run.

In the evening we made our way across the Millennium Bridge to the south bank for a Mexican celebratory meal and ample liquid refreshments. On the bridge Brian and I encountered a large group of Spanish visitors asking us to take their photo. So whilst Brian lined up the shot I dived into the middle with my medal and posed proudly with my new found friends – somewhere in Spain a photo exists with this group and some unknown guest smiling in their midst! A great end to a memorable day.

Finally on Monday, with regret and a well-deserved headache, I caught the train back to Whitland to find it still there with the preceding days seeming like a dream. It takes several days for the whole experience to sink in.

The purpose of all this was to raise money for ‘Action for Children’ and it looks like I will achieve the total of over £2,800 against my original target of £1,500. I must at this point thank the many people who have helped along the way. My colleagues in County Hall and in the community learning centres, all at St. Florence VC School, the residents of Reynalton, Becky at the Western Telegraph, players in the Tenby and District Darts League, Phill for the tee shirts, Morristons for their support, The St. Clears TROTS,the local ‘Action for Children’ office, Jeff Partridge and his family, the regulars at the Jeffreyston Inn and of course my family. I also now have some sympathy for journalists who have daily or weekly deadlines to meet. It only took six months of training and four hours of running but for ‘Action for Children’ supporting children and young people the help is there ‘as long as it takes’.