First my lovely readers a heart felt apology, I have been a bad blogger and I haven't kept in touch. I didn't even let you know how I went on in my first ever marathon! Well allow me to fill you in..
I finished, it hurt, I ate huuuge amounts of pizza afterwards.
I should probably elaborate more than that. I sat alone at breakfast at six thirty, surrounded by fellow runners and unable to eat a thing. I caught the bus and sat listening to all the other excited runners trying not to vomit. I got to the start line with only one thought in my head, "I am not ready for this" and you know what, I wasn't.
Although it started well with a lovely run through York, my parents and the minster bells seeing me through the city, I started to get in trouble by mile 11 (not a good sign), by mile 15 I was ready to cry and by mile 19 if you had offered me a bus home I would not only have taken it, but asked for a phone so I could ring Tommy's and tell them where to stick my London Marathon Entry Form!!!
Thankfully neither a bus or a phone was available to me, so I kept on running. Then a few things happened to save me and my battered morale, first, a hill. Now you would think a hill would be the last thing that tired legs would want to face, but for a girl who had done most of her training in Sheffield, a hill was just what the doctor ordered. My I-phone shuffle mode took it upon itself to be my mind coach, with songs such as Don't Stop Believing by Journey, and Eye of the Tiger, and finally I made it to mile 23 and my mind went, 5k left, we can do 5K! That 5k actually turned out to be the fastest of the Marathon and I practically danced up the final hill to the university. I sprinted over the line in 4hrs and 57 mins.
I had so many plans on what I would do on the finish line, perhaps the Y as suggested by the website, maybe a joyous punching of the air or even the mo-bot. What actually happened was I crossed the line and shouted "thank god that's over" so loudly that one of the St Johns Ambulance men scurried over to check I was ok. I hobbled to get my medal and immediately put it and the t-shirt on, I had earned them!!! My lovely mum and dad were waiting for me at the finish, and I was also re-united with my husband, who not only gave me a much needed rub down but also came armed with four Cadbury's Boost Bars, two of which were gone in very quick succession!
Well then, one down, one to go. Today I sit here in the new Team Little Legs HQ (we moved four days before Christmas!) with my training schedule in front of me. At the time of writing we are 2 months and 12 hours from the off, and my training is going fair to middlin. I am training with somewhat more conviction this time round, it would be nice if miles 12 through 23 could not be quite as harrowing as they were in York. I am having to stick to a beginners schedule, more so I can make sure I can complete all the runs. I am still a full time doctor with three children, so time is very precious. I have taken to running both before and after work some days in order to ensure I fit in all the miles my schedule calls for without depriving myself of too much family time. I am seeing some results, but my 15 mile run on Sunday still hurt like holy hell!! I am even running in the rain, which is something I avoided before. Every time I think of skipping a run, I recall how heartbroken I felt as I headed for mile 17 genuinely believing I wouldn't make it round. That feeling soon has me reaching for the trainers and adding another waterproof layer.
I often find myself thinking of the genius Billy Connolly line, there's no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate clothing. Well with that thought in mind tomorrow morning before work come rain or shine I will run five miles, and rest assured, my clothes will be very appropriate, now, where's my wetsuit?
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