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On the run: I did it!

Annie Hayes, HRZone.co.uk's very own contributing editor and self-confessed reluctant runner has been charting her training regime for the Flora London Marathon here in this blog. In her final entry she tells her story of the big day, blisters and all.

Attending A&E before crossing the starting line must be a first. The epic marathon weekend began, for me, with a trip to the Chelsea and Westminster hospital with a complaint of a very sore eye – the dashing doctor, who was generously sympathetic, packed me off with some eye drops for my scratched cornea – limping round the course, hand cupping one eye, was not the way I wanted to start.

Still, a liberal smattering (just a 'tad' more than the prescribed dose – there were no instructions on what to do if you really, really need to see your way round a 26.2-mile course) of the eye drops and a gargantuan portion of spaghetti bolognaise made me feel much better. A final night of alcohol abstinence and I turned in early. This plan quickly proved problematic. The neighbours, who seem to have to celebrate every Saturday with a party, decided to kick-off. First upstairs.

This went on until about three in the morning. I wasn't sure, however, whether scraping noises across the floor warranted some verbal abuse. The relief when they’d gone to bed was short-lived, when the adjacent flat decided that 5am was a good time to pump up the music. Bleary eyed, I decided enough was enough and I instructed my husband to go in all guns blazing. And he did. "Excuse me, my wife is running the marathon tomorrow, if you don't shut the [bleep] up I will call the police." That did the trick.

A little (that is an understatement) less rested than I'd hoped, the big day had started. A huge bowl of porridge and two bananas later, I was ready to make full use of the free travel (thanks Ken) on the underground. My assistant (weary husband) came to hold my bag. We found Sandra and her friend Renee lurking and looking equally apprehensive in Greenwich, and after a quick and very nervous dash to spend a penny and get intimate with the Vaseline jar we were ready. I sent the husband packing and before we knew it, it was time to get in position.

Under starter's orders, we were off with a big wave to the camera above us – the truth be told it was a little while until we actually started running – thick crowds, the weird and wonderful costumes to dodge and some slow breathing to put the nerves in check all took its toll on the clock. In all honesty, it was about five miles until I managed to find my pace and stop pinching myself that I was 'actually running the London Marathon' - unintentionally I also separated from Sandra, I quickly found it was impossible to look back and see if I could find her.

So it was just me, myself and I, oh and the other 35,000 or so runners. The course, which is basically flat, takes in some good sights - the Cutty Sark (the re-build), Greenwich, the Tower of London, Westminster – sadly, though, you have a few other things on your mind than getting snap happy with the camera.

Buoyed along by the amazing crowds that lined just about every part of the course I was really rather enjoying myself; that is until it decided to rain torrentially and I was completely soaked - the contact lense ban didn’t help matters, I really couldn’t see a thing, and hundreds of running shoes merged into one big rain drop. My emergency running pack, which included my lens cleaning cloth and more eye drops, (possibly the only runner to do 26.2 miles complete with an optometry set) saved the day.

At 13 miles, I ran past the Tower of London and I heard a loud voice shout "Annie!" To my glee, my entire family were congregated waving and shouting out loudly – it improved my spirits enormously. I was delighted they'd come to see me and gave me some much needed va va voom.

Miles 13 and 20 were pretty hard – I'd never been to Millwall before and would never go again - eventually we got to Canary Wharf but it seemed like forever and the thought that there was still much, much more to do didn’t improve my spirits, nor did the lucozade or the sight of a million runners peeing at the side of the road (not nice). I got even more deflated when I thought I’d already past the 18-mile marker and was on my way to 19 when I realised I hadn’t; I was a mile further behind than I thought. If this was the wall then I had truly hit it.

The only thing that got me through were the runner’s t-shirts - people running for their dad, mum, baby brother – a thousand different stories and, in turn, a thousand different reasons to pick myself up and get on with the task in hand.

Once I was at 20 my mood cheered, it was a mental marker - there were only six to go. At 22/23 I saw my family again – waving and jumping up and down madly - it was another boost just at the right time. I past the potato man and the guy dressed as superman and extracted the last ounce of adrenalin I possessed - now there was nothing for it but to peg it to the finishing line. It didn't help that there was a serious case of runners' fall out – they were dropping like flies, tapering off to the sidelines head in hands. I had to ignore this and keep going.

Westminster was a beautiful site, I knew then that I had done it – well almost, a last drive home up to St James' Park and I was done. I've never been so glad to stop in all my life. I felt very emotional, but just about held the tears back enough to scoop up my winner's medal and my bag of goodies.

It was amazing how quickly I got cold and the flora cape didn't really cut the mustard on that one. So the finishing time? Four hours 34 minutes, and happy with that – pretty much as predicted. Poor Sandra had badly injured her knee at mile 17 and bravely limped on to finish which deserves two medals in itself.

If you remember, I started the quest to find out if marathon running is akin in stamina as drug-free childbirth. So what's the answer? Well I don't remember having a start or finish time when I had my son George, and I don't know of anyone who has ever taken 16 hours to run the course or screamed their way around, so no – childbirth is much, much tougher. I know I've now done both! And yes I'm still wearing my marathon medal and I'm the proudest runner and mother ever.

Annie ran the 2008 Flora London Marathon in aid of Heart UK. You can still sponsor her at www.justgiving.com/annabellehayes

Marathon blog archive:

HR Zone, 14-Apr-2008
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