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"Blimey it's warm" I'm heading away from the start now and the hot weather has certainly drawn the crowds out of their houses. It's only about 10:20am so people are stood around with cups of tea, which during the course of the day will become beers and gins, but for now, a good old fashion cuppa is the choice of refreshment for the crowds. "Come on Mark!" comes the cry, and I smile...before realising that 1) I don't have my name on my shirt and 2) I'm not in Brighton so the chances of anyone actually knowing me are quite small! 3) would come along later in the race in that everyone around me seems to be called Mark!
The route is familiar (though I've only done Red Start once before) and the pace is what I was comfortable with. The start, with cheers still ringing in my ears, saw me at about 8:50/mile which whilst comfortable, was never sustainable in the heat (and the small matter of not enough training). As the starts merged, I remembered that Neil Sutton, another parkrun friend, was helping to man a water station and there he was, bottle poised! I seem to remember asking for a beer at the time.
"It's going ok, warm but ok" - Miles 5+ seem to have pubs open already and there are a fair few Londoners happy to toast us getting toasty in the sun! I catch someone's eye and the recognition is there! I was never going to be first over the line - let's face it, I wasn't going to be the first Brocklehurst over the line! There's Darvs! Good lady of Ross Brocklehurst, cheering me on! Ross and Darvs are running machines! There's a few waves and shouts, and a final remark that I hope she hadn't waited too long! Even at this early stage of the race, Ross (or the other Brockles as he's known) would have long gone into the hazy distance!
"Ooh, that feels funny...it'll be alright" - The Garmin is spot on with the mile markers at the moment and seconds from checking the mile at seven, I felt something. Nothing big, but something wasn't right. I was hardly sprinting or falling so I dismissed it and carried on, picking the shade as I went. By 7 1/2 miles, something really wasn't right! In my head, I was analysing my pre-race goals - no stopping before Tower Bridge - not long until I see that 12 mile marker...again. I may have to ease it a little. There was a pain, a sharp pain in my left glute. The left glute that had never troubled me before...the right? Well that was literally a pain in the arse, but not the left. Ok, lets walk for 0.10 of a mile, ease it away, and go again! Hmmm, walking wasn't really easing it. I tried applying pressure but it isn't easy in the middle of thousands of people. The digits on the Garmin were showing a pace of 15 mins per mile - that's not a 4:30 hour marathon. I know, the goal was to finish, but having done Manchester two weeks before in 4:45 and not stopping until 14 miles, I was hopeful of going a little further and shaving a couple of minutes off that. That wasn't going to happen.
Bermondsey....gotta get to Bermondsey, where the day had started, what felt such a long time ago. The crowds were getting louder and the cheers were fabulous.....but not for me. I was walking: the runners, they deserve the cheers, not me. In the distance, a set of traffic lights.....that's where I would start running again. Off I went looking more like Peter Kay's impression of a dad running through a car park than someone trying to complete the London Marathon! Anyway, things were settling a little - the pain was there but if I could knock a few miles out, it was manageable and also...hang on, who's that bloody shouting? About nine miles in, I took a left and heard my name (or one of the versions of it), and there were Mark and Ed! Big thumbs up from me, big grin...and big bloody pain in the arse! "I should have asked them to elbow it" I muttered as I continued, whilst making a mental note to ask Mark at 17.5 miles where I hoped he would be.
The next few miles are stop start but I'm breaking them down by looking for water stations after the mile markers...which once have passed, mean I closer to the next mile marker. Chosing where I'll walk and where I'll start...anything to keep me from thinking about how long there is to go. I've been injured - everyone gets injured - but for me this is the first time in a race and not just any race! It's the bloody London Marathon - the one I took a charity place to enter - a charity that needs me to raise £1,500.00 for to help out poorly babies! I know I'll finish - how do I know? I worked out how long I had if I walked the rest of the way, and knew the finish line closed about 6.40pm! Pessimist or what? Anything to distract me!
Something was familiar! The flats, the road...why did I recognise this bit of the course! There was a tube station ahead - that may give me a clue! Bermondsey was it's name! Very familiar ground now! I knew where the 12 mile marker was, then it's Tower Bridge, then half way...ooh, is Mel and the Heads Together crowd on the right or the left? Anyway, I'm slowing again but at least no one can see me..... It was at that point there was a hand on my shoulder! It was Amanda and she was looking a lot better than I was feeling! We did the traditional British thing of talking about the weather, I mumbled about the glute and how close we were to half way, before waving her off into the distance! Another walk, another water station and some very loud music! Then we're turning right....that must be Tower Bridge! There is no way I am walking Tower bloody Bridge! Back in 2014, a work colleague called Vicky had promised to come and cheer me over the bridge! Vicky had worked for Thomas Cook on their Olympic packages in 2012 and through work, we discussed the inspiration of 2012. I didn't know her that well but she had friends running in 2014 and she promised to give me a cheer! In the Autumn, she got in touch to say she hadn't been well and to say she was going to sponsor me for Cancer Research as these were the guys who were helping her. Cancer? It was cancer. "Don't worry - I'll be there" she messaged. It was the last message I ever got from her. Within a few weeks, she had gone. "God, I need a hand now Vicky" I said out loud as I looked up to the sky. I don't know how long the bridge is, but it felt like miles, but the bridge was crossed and I hadn't stopped.
At this stage in the course, there are the faster runners heading past mile 21 and on the hunt for the finish line. I was looking for the half way line and took the opportunity to trot through one of the showers on the course! Mel was in for a surprise if I saw her but at least it was water! Further down the road, there was the Heads Together team. I stopped and looked...and they looked back at me! Who is this geezer? Ok, now they are starting to look a bit worried! I try to explain that Mel had said to say hi, but I really think that they're concerned I'm delirious! So I leave a message and carry on. Another check point ticked off and I'm over half way!
"Only 12 to go" I'm turning over in my head, starting to calculate my finish time. "If I do this, then that..." My thoughts are interrupted! A familiar running shirt has appeared on the side of the road! It's Helen and Kirsty! "Mr Beeeeeeeeee" is Kirsty's shout and it's music to my ears. They get me water, nutrient tablets and a bloody good pep talk. Suddenly, I'm at my lowest, bemoaning the glute, my disappointment and how I feel a fraud amongst the runners. "Have you stretched it?" Kirsty asks. I realise I haven't! Beside us is another suffering runner. She's rubbing copious amounts of "Deep Heat" onto her right glute beneath her shorts. I think I'm immune to DH now - it doesn't go "deep", there's no "heat" and I just get the smell. I pretend that there is some on me and try to trick my mind - it doesn't work! I set off with two drinks and advice from the girls about popping a stretch or two in place when I next walk! "I'll bloody finish" (or words to that effect) I hear myself saying!
I'm barely round the corner when Kerry pops up! She's running well and clearly enjoying the race. She tells me of a previous VMLM where she had to walk lots. "Enjoy it and take in the day", she suggests. I don't have much option at the moment but the pain is such that I wouldn't say enjoyment is on my mind! Kerry bounds off towards 15 miles and I'm grateful for the support of my friends.
The watch says 16.2 miles but in the distance is the 16 mile marker. I'm setting little goals and one of them is that I never walk under one of these...I'll try to run. Another face in the crowd looks at me, I look back, she smiles, I look back, she waves her arms in front of me, I look b....bloody hell it's Karen! We're heading east so that's near Mile End parkrun territory! The bright yellow hat I had was paying dividends! "What do you need?" she asks. "I'm sick of water, I could murder a Coke" seems to come out of my mouth. She's off like a whippet, dashing home leaving me standing on the side of the road. It takes me a good few seconds to realise that this might be a good chance to stretch!! Two week's before, Karen and her other half, Paul had had banter! He almost ran a marathon in half the time it took me to do Manchester. I was beginning to wonder if he could manage three on my predicted time today! Several stretches later, Karen appears with a tin of Coke and snacks that could have fed an army! "I can't eat during a race" I explain ( a point which I will entirely contradict not minutes later!) An ice cold bottle of Diet Pepsi later and we're heading to 16.5 miles where the Mile End parkrun team are, and my old mate Craigie-Lee Paterson whom I always shout at when passing at races. We negotiate our way there and have a quick chat! (I think it took me about 10 minutes to cover that half a mile but it was time well spent!) CLP offers cola bottles and for a few moments, I'm in heaven!
The 17 mile marker tells me I'm not far from Georgia, Mark and Ed and the sight of the DLR running parallel to the road, reminds me of the fact that this time, last year I was on that! My leaving comments to Helen and Kirsty were to message the guys to let them know I was struggling and not to wait. I'd no idea how long it was going to take and I didn't like the idea of people being kept waiting. At 17.5 miles, they were there! Possibly in the identical spot we'd cheered from in 2017, there was an uplifting cheer from Georgia, followed by cheers from Mark and Ed. I'd no idea that I'd missed Lester by seconds, but the video below shows just how close we were. I spent two minutes with the guys, and my language was nothing to be proud of (hence the VERY short video). Some good banter put me in high spirits and I knew that the 20 mile marker would be the next target.
If you listen carefully, you'll hear the inspiration for the title of this blog!
"Come on Arena - get out of the way again!" How can you recognise the voice of someone you don't know? At mile 20 of the ASICS Greater Manchester Marathon, a familiar vest, if not face ran beside me! Lancing Eagles are based just down the coast from me in (surprisingly enough), Lancing, and we'd enjoyed some banter, discussing the course and wishing each other luck. Fast forward two weeks, and there she is again! "I'm not racing you this time" I shout as we wave to each other.
"Ouch, I think that's ouch,ouch bloody ouch" Oh my has the pain got worse. I'd felt it when I left the guys at 17.5 and put it down to going too fast. Now I feel like I've aggravated it even more! Some stretching before the 18 mile sign and a reminder that this is the penultimate sign that begins with a "1" - all 2's after that. The twists and turns leaving Canary Wharf are not ideal for my glute and I'm resigned to walking a good chunk. A young runner is in the shade, hands on her knees. I'm one of many to ask "are you ok?" and she replies that she is. This may be a race, but the only real competitor for us now is the distance, not each other. There are frequently people now on the side of the road and the amazing St John's Ambulance are there providing shade, attention and care. I'm stretching and raise my head too soon. I'm dizzy...nope, I'm ok. Just need to be aware of that next time I stretch.
It was getting to the stage now where I tried to trot but couldn't. Ok, keep walking...try again in a minute. I tried again, it hurt again. I looked across, straight into the eyes of Danny and Libby. Libby would make a terrible poker player as her face dropped when she saw how I was struggling. Once again, I mentioned my woes, and Danny commented that I was still in front of "that lot" - pointing a a couple of hundred runners heading towards us. Another much needed chat and pep talk seemed to allow me to get moving again. Surely there wasn't long now?
I've worked out that parkrun chum Kerri French is the next to look for at 22.9 miles (her words not mine). Slowly but surely I'm heading back to the side of the road I was enviously looking at just over half way. Some girls are screaming "MARK!!!!" at me. Another Mark in the race! Why doesn't the rude git acknowledge them? They're still screaming! I look again and realise that the "rude git" is actually me and it's Vicky and Alice from Sale Water parkrun whom we'd all become friends with over the past few weeks! I seem to remember Alice offering me a gin and tonic in a tin (that WOULD have made me dizzy!) and thankfully the photos she took haven't been sent yet. I stole some water from the girls, thanked them for cheering and made my way to 22.9! Tower Bridge by now was in the stages of clear up, and sadly the number of runners needing attention by the roadside was increasing. One marshal had "Elite Runner Drinks Station" on his vest. "I'm here now mate, you can go home!" I thought to myself (and thankfully didn't say out loud!)
The glute was angry and it felt like it was spreading. It was harder than ever to maintain a little trot and I wasn't the only one suffering! More people were walking than running and it made navigation that bit more difficult on those occasions I managed to get the trot going again! Then, there she was, Kerri French marshalling on the side of the road (unfortunately getting us runners to move across as there had been yet another running casualty in the road). "I thought I'd missed you" she commented - something that most people had said actually - I took it as a compliment! I explained why I was suffering (I got so giddy at 17.5 that I forgot to ask Mark AGAIN to elbow my glute). Kerri didn't stand on ceremony! She offered and her elbow was right into the glute. It hurt like hell (thank god the BBC cameras weren't there for that!) Then suddenly, there was a little relaxing and the burning wasn't as bad! I knew the parkrun HQ team were round the corner and I started off feeling better than I'd done for some miles.
Twisting and weaving through the walkers, up came the 23 mile sign. "Just a parkrun to go" I commented and smiled! "If I hear that one more time...." called the runner beside me! I just grinned and carried on! And there they were, Jaz, Cathy, James and Jake! Jaz's Yorkshire tones rising above the noise and I mumbled some nonsense to James too before turning and setting the next goal for Blackfriars.
I knew I was compensating for the glute and every incline or uphill as I preferred to think of it was hurting my right knee! As I came out of Blackfriars up to Embankment, a set of drummers were encouraging runners every step of the way. Such a powerful beat! I tried to feed off it but my knee had other ideas. And there suddenly was The Thames and the London skyline. I knew Dawn and her NSPCC team would be along here (I'd ran in 2016 for the charity) and sure enough there she was. I shouted to get her attention and put what I thought was a positive expression on (she later described me as "broken" which was probably nearer the truth!). As the 25 mile sign approached, I looked at the Garmin - I had 18 minutes to get across the line under 6 hours. If this were a film, this would have been the moment where the soundtrack kicks in and the "hero" finds that last bit of strength! There was no "Yo Adrian" moment for me! You can take the lad out of Manchester, but not Manchester out of the lad. "I am not doing a f***ing 6 hour London Marathon" I, well probably growled under my breath and I set off! No stopping, no walking until the finish line. I must have been in some kind of a zone as I was oblivious to the fact my friends had made their way to cheer me on and I didn't hear a thing! Checking the watch every few minutes, knowing this last section so well. Big Ben, hidden by a mass of scaffolding and tarpaulin was silent - the crowds anything but.
Birdcage Walk....a Spinal Research flag but no sign of Eric! Maybe see you in America mate! The last kilometre could have felt forever, but I knew I was nearly there. "Just bide your time, it'll come". I had ten minutes to get to the other side of St James' Park. I should be ok. A little relief crept in and I heard myself thanking all of the marshals one-by-one. A pity it had taken 26 miles to do this (though according to the Garmin I'd already done 26.5!) but at least there was some thanks! 385 yards to go is a lovely sign to see, the Palace a sight to behold and then The Mall and the finish. Ahead there were not one, but two familiar vests. Two Lancing Eagles helping a fellow runner over the line. I passed my old adversary and congratulated her not just on her race, but for helping someone finish too. The line! I've crossed the line!!! Oh bugger, stop the watch! I nearly forgot.
With so many friends helping at the finish, I struggled to find the right line to go to for my medal! Suddenly hands shot in the air and there was Lou Mc, almost elbowing a fellow volunteer out of the way to plonk the medal around my neck. So good to see my old mate, but my new "friend", my burning glute was back with a vengeance! Too late my friend, too late! In the middle of The Mall were some fans and I spent a good minute cooling down in front of them. I turned and there was Holly! I must have looked bloody awful as she dashed off to get my goody bag and immediately handed me some water. She escorted me to the luggage trucks before heading back to carry on working. "Next time I'll take the bloody truck" I commented as I got my bag - a tired smile from the helper meant that that joke wasn't quite as original as I'd thought!
And that's Lon-done! What I lost in time, I gained in experience. So many people made such a difference and they genuinely got me round. If I have missed anyone, I'm truly sorry but recounting the day has been a lengthy process. You are still there aren't you?? Hello? Oh there you are, I thought I'd lost you!
I'll blog some more about my running and training though I doubt anything will be as long as this! Thanks for sticking with it! My slowest London, but my proudest medal!
