Tomorrow, Sunday 27th April, is the London Marathon 2025. My Dad ran the London twice and I also ran a marathon in Cardiff in 2004. Being a very long distance (26.2 miles), the marathon is firstly, definitely not a sprint. Secondly, the marathon is not a race that you can enter the week before without proper training beforehand.
Dad didn’t start running at all until after his fortieth birthday when he hit a mid-life crisis. At that time, he was so unfit that he would wait until after dark so that no-one would see him, and would jog once around the block. Undeterred, he continued building up his endurance and distance. His confidence grew and he started entering 10k races and then half marathons. Dad ran his first full marathon in Leeds on his 50th birthday. Dad would be up early every morning, before 06:00am to go out for a run before work; Dad loved running. But he didn’t stop there; he joined a running club and went on to run the London Marathon twice. And he was fast too, finishing the marathon in 3 hours and 20 minutes.
Inspired by Dad, I started running when I was in my twenties. Although I didn’t join a running club, I ran a few 10ks and three half marathons. After my two children came along, which was before the days of smartphones, I loved the freedom of a long run on a Saturday morning, just me and the environment.
Then I decided to take on the challenge of The Marathon and to raise money for Cancer Research UK, which was also Dad’s chosen charity for all three of his marathons. Like I already said, the marathon isn’t a race you can just enter on a whim without proper training. My Dad gave me a book (Marathon From Start to Finish by Sam Murphy) and Cancer Research UK also sent me a training schedule with the sponsor form. (This was in 2004, before the days of social media and online sponsor forms, so all of this was in paper format). During the months of training, I would go out for three or four evening runs and a long run on Saturday. Dad said that if you can run 20 miles, you can run a marathon because you run a marathon like two races: a twenty mile race and a 10k. So I gradually built up my weekly mileage and my long Saturday run until I was running 20 miles on a Saturday.
Finally, race day came: 3rd October 2004. My husband dropped me into Cardiff early along with 4000 other runners (800 for the full marathon as it was a two lap marathon, with most of the runners only signed up for the half marathon). I was there in plenty of time to drop my bag off and find my pen. For those not familiar with big races, the runners are organised into starting pens according to your anticipated finish time. The elite runners and wheelchair athletes go in the first pen, with the other runners behind. I had a red background to my number, which meant that I would be in the pen with other runners expecting to finish between 4 and 5 hours. The atmosphere in the pen was electric! The sense of excitement mixed with nerves and anticipation was all-consuming and wonderful.
Dad always said you should start off at the back of the pen and gradually pass the slower runners along the way as this is more motivating than starting at the front and having lots of runners passing you. So that’s what I did. And we were off! Just after passing the 1 mile marker, I had to go over to the side of the road and stop to re-fasten my laces, as they weren’t tight enough. That only cost me about one minute, but it was worth it as I was soon into my stride, quickly settling into my pace. Even though I didn’t know any of the other runners around me, there was a very real sense of of running this race together. Just the presence of the other runners was the motivation to run at a faster pace than in any solo training run.
The first 12 miles were absolutely fantastic; I was feeling great and was on track to finish in around 4 hours 15. But just before the end of the first lap, the stomach cramps started, quickly followed by the diarrhoea – the worst possible time to have a bad bout of IBS! The next 14 miles were truly awful. I kept having to stop to find somewhere to go to the toilet (and all but once, not an actual toilet!) I will spare you the details, but it really was terrible. Nevertheless, I had £1,200 of promised sponsorship (no mean feat in the days before the internet); people were relying on me to finish the race.
Half of the race was really tough and memorable but not in a good way. I finished in 4 hours 52 minutes. I didn’t give up, despite horrible circumstances and I got my medal and raised over a thousand pounds for Cancer Research UK. The Marathon is like life isn’t it? As you’re growing up, you are in training for the main race. Once the race is underway, you might have to stop momentarily to make some minor adjustments to ensure that you can run more effectively. Furthermore, life often doesn’t go to plan, and sometimes it goes horribly wrong and you may question if you can go on to finish the race or if you should drop out early. In 1995 my life hit one of these times. You can read about it here: https://talkingyorkie.wales/?p=18 Despite my circumstances, I carried on running, albeit at a much slower pace. It took many years but, thanks to those running ahead and alongside me, I eventually got beck into my pace.
It seems that Dad was also right about The Marathon being run as two races. He said that the first 20 miles, you run for yourself, alongside those running in the same race; just find your pace and enjoy the experience. The last 6 miles, the 10k race at the end of the marathon, you run for your family. Dad said that with each mile marker after 20 miles, he would run each mile for a family member, visualising them as he ran. As I am just into the final 6 miles, the 10k race at the end of the marathon of my life, I find myself no longer running for myself. I have no personal aspirations or goals, only a desire to see my family happy and to do my best for them.
At the end of The Marathon, everyone who finishes the race gets the same medal. It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t go to plan or even if it goes horribly wrong. People are relying on you to finish this race. It doesn’t matter if you are an elite athlete or if you are someone who starts in the back pen, we all get the same medal at the end. Keep going.
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