When I ran my first marathon back in 2018, I thought “never again”. But then, you start to forget the pain and remember the joy of the experience. So I made a deal with myself — my next (official) marathon would be the London Marathon, whenever and however I manage to get in.
Despite applying every single year, I wasn’t having any luck. Only something like 8% of applicants get a place. But six years later, my dream came true in an unexpected way. In November, I got the news that I had won one of my running club’s places.
Though I should’ve learned my lesson about preparation last time ‘round, after a succession of running, falling ill, running, and falling ill again, I became complacent. After all, I’d run 100 km in three days (including marathon distance on the first day) with minimal preparation last year, so how hard could it really be?
So, again, I failed to follow a training plan. Again, I failed to prep any fuelling strategy. Again, I ended up winging it. But, well, I’m six years older, so I ended up half an hour slower than my PB. In all honesty, I don’t care. Not only did I manage to raise money for a good cause, but I genuinely relaxed and enjoyed the atmosphere.
My husband was volunteering again this year, so I started my marathon journey alone. Luckily, I wasn’t alone for too long — I met some Sutton Runners in the underground, and we made our way to London Bridge together. We had different start zones, so we split up to catch different trains, but their enthusiasm was contagious and I was feeling pumped.
As I made my way to the runners grid at Blackheath, I was awash with emotion. The crowds, the music, the celebration — it was phenomenal. The big screens showed the elite runners start after a fitting tribute to Kelvin Kiptum, a tragic event that still brings tears to my eyes. He was such a talent, gone far too soon.
There’s something so special about mass events like these — they really bring people together. As we waited for our start wave, we were all smiling, laughing, wishing each other luck. And that energy carried through the entire route, bolstered by the crowds. I wasn’t running for time, so I made sure to high five as many children as I could, tap the “power up” signs, enjoy the sights, and even do a bit of celebrity spotting.
I happened across Russ Cook, or “Hardest Geezer”, just after Greenwich and even managed a sneaky selfie. I also ran past someone from Masked Singer in a piranha costume, which I noticed for its extravagance, but was only later informed that it was someone famous.
The Sutton Runners were managing the crossing at Westferry Circus again, so I did my best to run to them — so much so that my body clearly decided that it was the finish line, because after I finally reached them at mile 21, it gave up and decided to walk.
I walked for a bit, then started running again. As I got closer to the final stretch from City onwards, it was as if I had my “second breath”, because I sped up more and more as I neared Westminster and, finally, the finish line.
After the finish, I picked up my kit bag and headed to Green Park to get back to Westferry Circus to meet the team. The trains were surprisingly empty, so I managed to rest my weary legs before being forced to navigate Canary Wharf and all its road closures, which took twice as long as it should’ve because (a) I was slow and (b) I walked back and forth at least four times trying to find a crossing.
I spend the next half hour or so cheering on the runners still running and later caught the coach with the team. I also caught up on the news — a new women’s record of 02:16:16 was set by Kenya’s Peres Jepchirchir and the guy I saw running with a fridge on his back had proposed to his partner en route.
Finally, we made it home. I followed my triathlete friend’s marathon advice — first, a bath with Epsom salts in the evening, followed by a short 1km run in the morning. Honestly, I feel great, and even though I don’t think I’ll be running another marathon anytime soon, I applied for the 2025 ballot, so who knows?
Swordfoosh 