By Lucy Tapper Howe
This was my third marathon (fourth if you include my double marathon ultra), and second London marathon. After a year off due to injury, I wasn’t feeling confident. I followed my plan but you never really know – maranoia always sets in with the ‘taper-tantrums’ and you convince yourself that you haven’t done enough. Added to which, there will always be things outside your control that can affect your race, you just have to do what you can with what you have on the day.
I was raising funds for the Oxfordshire Animal Sanctuary and Dogs on the Streets. The former, because we adopted our own dogs from them. The latter because I foster a dog for her homeless owner when he can’t have her. Unfortunately I got a call for help from her owner the morning of the marathon, he was in a bad way and needed to get a train from Scotland to Oxford, urgently. And so it was that I was standing around at the Green start area, not warming up but booking a one-way ticket for a homeless guy and his dog – about to raise money for a charity that helps them. Putting my money (and time) where my mouth was!
The run itself started well – I felt comfortable and was exceeding my target pace but not ridiculously so. Then Garmin started to lose sync with the mile-markers and I was at sea. I ran to feel and wasn’t feeling great although my pace felt steady. I saw my husband and daughter at Tower Bridge and remembered to smile for the camera! Mile 21 was, as ever, a big loud blur of a street party but the last five miles were predictably hard. My legs turned to concrete, some gremlin moved the mile markers further apart, I felt like I was running in slow motion and although elated to see the final 1km, it is always the longest 1000m of your life! I crossed the line and that was it – the last life drained from my legs. I staggered away with my big medal and bag of goodies – no idea what my time was.
When I eventually met my family, I learned that it was 3h 48m – a minute faster than my previous London time and only 3 mins short of my PB so I was pleasantly surprised. London delivers – the crowds, the buzz, the sights… but every marathon is hard. Really hard. And that is why we do them. The achievement and sense of accomplishment. I’ve got my good for age so I shall start working out where to deploy that. Meanwhile, I’m counting down the days to Edinburgh Marathon – 26th May! Sorry legs.