Bang! That would be a wall we just ran into at about the 19/ 20 mile mark. It didn’t hurt too much but it did mean that our pace dropped and we needed some walking breaks to keep as fresh as possible for our big finish along the embankment. The shade provided by the buildings of Canary Wharf were a welcome relief from the sun, but despite all this it was a struggle moving the body through this part of the course. Thankfully we had support from Marianne and Steve from the BBC and they provided some sweets for us, even though we were a bit shaky on the legs and looking a bit like death. This was also part of the course where the Marathon Talk presenters Tom Williams and Martin Yelling were with their motivation station. As a big fan of their podcasts, and a contributor to one of Martin’s podcasts for the marathon, I felt obligated to at least show my appreciation by giving Martin a high five as he shouted out our names to give us a bit of a boost. It worked.. For a mile or so.
Even with short walking breaks scattered through the last 6 miles, it was tough, but quite amazing. The promise of a lively Embankment motivated us as we headed at last, in the right direction towards the finish line. Encouraged all the way and pushed along by the spirit of other runners and the spectators, it all began to get a little weird. The urge to be sick was now well and truly upon the both of us and suddenly the crowds began to provide more of a white noise, indiscriminate and distracting. It was hard to focus; at a time when we needed all the focus we could muster. Jess had long since put her headphones in to zone out as we had done on many long runs, but it was hard. I tried to use the crowd and the noise to motivate me, but we both found it increasingly difficult as our bodies screamed louder than the spectators.
Ducking under the underpasses on Upper Thames Street was not helping either. Orange lights illuminated the runners, some lining up for urinals, some not bothering with such airs and graces (just urinating on the underpass walls – no one cared anymore. It was now about surviving the last leg of this epic run, even if it meant exposing yourself in public. To be honest, we couldn’t really see straight anyway, not a clue. Finally we emerged from another dimly lit underpass to the bright light and heat of day and we were on the embankment.
A mental push was required and the embankment provided a great deal of colour and encouragement. With hip flexors aching, feet now sore, quads numb and tired, good running posture left somewhere in Canary Wharf, we pushed our bodies to the absolute limit to run the length of the Embankment. The trees, now with the new leaves of spring provided some respite from the sun and we tried hard to maintain forward movement. A burst of adrenaline came when we saw a group of people from Norwood Green, headed by Lisa Price on lookout, nearing the 25 mile marker. Jess and I managed to muster the strength to at least look good and give a celebratory high five as we passed – the truth was is that we were nearly spent.
Now on the final stretch of our journey as we chucked a right hand turn onto Birdcage Walk at the big clock at Westminster. We were and relishing (and swearing at) the diminishing mile/ yard markers until we turned the corner
onto the Mall. With every footstep we knew that we were getting closer to achieving the goal that we had set out to reach 12 months before. We had long forgotten about times, pacing and how we looked; it was all about getting to that finish line together. We began the training and months of preparation as a way of making our relationship stronger, boosting the quality of our time together as well as the quantity. Both of us made sacrifices in the process of this, and now the benefits of all that hard work, teamwork and mental strength and character were paying off. With a cheeky wave at Ma’am in her palace we dug deep for the last time.
I’m not afraid to say that we were extremely proud of each other as we ran the last hundred meters to cross the line in 5hrs 15min. Making sure that we smiled for the finishing photo we made our way over the mini bridge where the volunteers remove the timing chip from the laces. Legs immediately stiffened and the both of us were walking like John Wayne. With a medal now around the neck, goodie bag in hand and a big fat smile on our faces, we walked to collect our kit bags and rest our now useless legs. A man with a sign caught our attention in the last 600 meters of the run that helped us find the energy for the final stretch, and I think it sums up what we did nicely. ‘Pain is temporary, Glory is forever’. We hurt, we staggered, but we achieved it and we did it together - couldn’t ask for more.
Bang! That would be a wall we just ran into at about the 19/ 20 mile mark. It didn’t hurt too much but it did mean that our pace dropped and we needed some walking breaks to keep as fresh as possible for our big finish along the embankment. The shade provided by the buildings of Canary Wharf were a welcome relief from the sun, but despite all this it was a struggle moving the body through this part of the course. Thankfully we had support from Marianne and Steve from the BBC and they provided some sweets for us, even though we were a bit shaky on the legs and looking a bit like death. This was also part of the course where the Marathon Talk presenters Tom Williams and Martin Yelling were with their motivation station. As a big fan of their podcasts, and a contributor to one of Martin’s podcasts for the marathon, I felt obligated to at least show my appreciation by giving Martin a high five as he shouted out our names to give us a bit of a boost. It worked.. For a mile or so.
Even with short walking breaks scattered through the last 6 miles, it was tough, but quite amazing. The promise of a lively Embankment motivated us as we headed at last, in the right direction towards the finish line. Encouraged all the way and pushed along by the spirit of other runners and the spectators, it all began to get a little weird. The urge to be sick was now well and truly upon the both of us and suddenly the crowds began to provide more of a white noise, indiscriminate and distracting. It was hard to focus; at a time when we needed all the focus we could muster. Jess had long since put her headphones in to zone out as we had done on many long runs, but it was hard. I tried to use the crowd and the noise to motivate me, but we both found it increasingly difficult as our bodies screamed louder than the spectators.
Ducking under the underpasses on Upper Thames Street was not helping either. Orange lights illuminated the runners, some lining up for urinals, some not bothering with such airs and graces (just urinating on the underpass walls – no one cared anymore. It was now about surviving the last leg of this epic run, even if it meant exposing yourself in public. To be honest, we couldn’t really see straight anyway, not a clue. Finally we emerged from another dimly lit underpass to the bright light and heat of day and we were on the embankment.
A mental push was required and the embankment provided a great deal of colour and encouragement. With hip flexors aching, feet now sore, quads numb and tired, good running posture left somewhere in Canary Wharf, we pushed our bodies to the absolute limit to run the length of the Embankment. The trees, now with the new leaves of spring provided some respite from the sun and we tried hard to maintain forward movement. A burst of adrenaline came when we saw a group of people from Norwood Green, headed by Lisa Price on lookout, nearing the 25 mile marker. Jess and I managed to muster the strength to at least look good and give a celebratory high five as we passed – the truth was is that we were nearly spent.
Now on the final stretch of our journey as we chucked a right hand turn onto Birdcage Walk at the big clock at Westminster. We were and relishing (and swearing at) the diminishing mile/ yard markers until we turned the corner 
onto the Mall. With every footstep we knew that we were getting closer to achieving the goal that we had set out to reach 12 months before. We had long forgotten about times, pacing and how we looked; it was all about getting to that finish line together. We began the training and months of preparation as a way of making our relationship stronger, boosting the quality of our time together as well as the quantity. Both of us made sacrifices in the process of this, and now the benefits of all that hard work, teamwork and mental strength and character were paying off. With a cheeky wave at Ma’am in her palace we dug deep for the last time.
I’m not afraid to say that we were extremely proud of each other as we ran the last hundred meters to cross the line in 5hrs 15min. Making sure that we smiled for the finishing photo we made our way over the mini bridge where the volunteers remove the timing chip from the laces. Legs immediately stiffened and the both of us were walking like John Wayne. With a medal now around the neck, goodie bag in hand and a big fat smile on our faces, we walked to collect our kit bags and rest our now useless legs. A man with a sign caught our attention in the last 600 meters of the run that helped us find the energy for the final stretch, and I think it sums up what we did nicely. ‘Pain is temporary, Glory is forever’. We hurt, we staggered, but we achieved it and we did it together - couldn’t ask for more. 
