London Marathon 2017

Marathon Goals

1. Don't shit myself
2. Finish the race

(in that order)

I arrive at the race village with plenty of time to relax, pee and eat another banana.
There are so many people, too many people. I find a spot on the grass, put my headphones in, stretch out and enjoy the sunshine. I find a quiet space in my own head and try to find a sense of calm. I'm ready. I've been ready for this for weeks.



Waiting to start. Ant and Dec are commentating the beginning of the race, "There are some good looking ladies running today, let's have a big cheer for them!" Every man, woman and child near me eye-rolls. I've never been prouder of the human race. Absolute jokers.

It takes forever to get out of the starting pens. I knew this would happen but it doesn't do anything to dampen the frustration and excitement. A few messages trickle in on my phone from important people in my life as I wait. Their words are essential to my success, and I savour ever last one of them. I cross the start line at about 10:20am, and that's it. I am doing it. I am running the fucking London marathon!

The first mile slips past so quickly as I settle into my stride, but it's not long before I detour to the portaloos for a quick nervous wee.

It's lovely and sunny today. The showers en route make for the nicest surprise. I run through each and every single one and the cool water makes me feel brand new, for all of about thirty seconds. I find joy in the littlest things: smiling and saying a meaningful 'thank you' to the volunteers handing out water; hi-fiving a small child as I run past; Jungle Boogie coming on shuffle.

There are so many people here and trying to spot people I know is like Where's Wally. I know Mum and Ali will be roughly at mile 8, mile 13 and mile 23 but I'll keep my eyes open just in case. I haven't written my name on my running bib this time. As lonely as this makes me feel during the many other miles, it makes it so much easier to find them when they're near by. I miss them at mile 13 and this really upsets me. My brain gets weird and for a solid two miles I reeeaaalllllly miss my Mum, on the brink of tears like a homesick child. Hey Mama by Kanye West comes on, and I remember that it's not really so bad. I'll see her in a couple of hours!

I drift in and out of the miles mentally in a bizarre day dream. One mile passes, then another. I focus on my breathing, fleeting thoughts, the people. The first TorQ gel is delicious, black forest fruits. The second one, less so. After five I want to vomit. But if I don't eat them I'll definitely hit the wall. I pretend it's medicine to shut my mouth up from complaining because 'A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down...' 

When I hit mile 20 I am acutely aware that I have never ever run further than this. No mans land. Who knows what my body will do here? I certainly don't know. I see a sign that makes me laugh, but it's also sound advice, 'NEVER TRUST A FART AFTER MILE 20'. I keep going slowly and steadily, smiling as I run through the pain because Chrissie Wellington (four-time Ironman Triathlon World Champion) told me so in her book. It works a treat up to a point.

Mile 21 and 22 are the hardest by far. I'm so tired. Everything hurts, especially my right hip, and I really want to walk for a bit. I manage to convince myself to keep running, just for one more song. Six or seven 'one more songs' happen before I relent and let myself walk for a bit to stretch out my legs a little. Hard Times by Paramore comes on, and I can't do anything but start running again. It's like when you're in a club and hear a song you know, and can't do anything but run to the dance floor to enjoy it. The sun in shining, everything still hurts, I don't have control over my body, but I do have control over my head. I just have to keep going. One more song.

Nothing in my life has ever felt sweeter, than when I hear my Mum shout my name at mile twenty-four. Her kisses and kindness push me faster and further. Only seconds later I see my old housemates, "Only two more to go Immy!" Josh shouts. This stays with me. This helps. I can do this. Only two more? Easy! I feel totally invincible.

I turn the corner of The Mall towards the final stretch for the last 1000m and one of my favourite songs of all time comes on: Langhorne Slim, The Way We Move. It takes me back to 2013; a party in France. It's the middle of the night. Stars overheard, drinks a plenty. Toby and I are dancing like absolute lunatics in an orange bedouin tent, family and old friends around us celebrating my cousin's marriage. I'm overcome by love. And though we aren't together anymore I feel the weight of that memory like he's there cheering me on. We're dancing and laughing, and nothing beats the encouragement from one of my best friends. I finish with a smile. (I think I am smiling but I can't tell any more. My body feels like it's totally detached from me.)

Five hours, sixteen minutes and twenty-nine seconds, and I'm done.

I catch the tube back towards Greenwich where I'm staying. I climb the stairs slowly, painfully. Every step feels heavy but I've never felt stronger than I do right now, mentally, emotionally or physically. I have to keep saying the words in my head to really believe them. "I ran a marathon. I ran the London marathon!" For days it still won't have sunk in, and even now three weeks later I feel far removed from it. I didn't run the London Marathon; it was someone I knew or knew of, a friend of a friend.

Walking back through the streets of London and I'm smiling like a twat. Like when you find out the boy you fancy likes you back. A big goony grin from ear to ear. The city feels smaller today, a different place to be. Kind strangers come up to me to ask me how I am, shake my hand and congratulate me. I feel a part of this big, mad place and it's wonderful.

Home. I lift each leg into the bath with great effort. I've never heard my knees click so loudly. My pants have chafed a sore red line into my arse. But I know I'll sleep well tonight... because I just ran the fucking London marathon!

For blue skies

Today I went to the beach to clear my mind again. It's amazing how healing the sea can be. I remember in a Rob Bell podcast how he talks about how the salt/water ratio in the sea is similar to that in the womb, and that's why so many people have a sense of affinity with the sea.

2016 is here, unapologetically urging me to make goals and resolutions to be a better me. But as a perfectionist I'm always striving to be a better me. Alas, I still resolve to do this, that and the other on January 1st because I like marking milestones and what better place to start than at the start of the year?

This year will be about mindfulness and self love — something I've always struggled with, but the need for this has become amplified more recently.

2016

Write and meditate in some form or another every single day. These are both activities that make me feel well and keep me on track. In working full time I've made more excuses and written less. Words make me feel like me. Not writing is like a form of self-neglect. I vow to write everyday, because it's important and because I matter. Not everything has been written before (I fucking hate that quote that says it has! It's so uninspiring... ) and my words have great merit, even if only to myself.

Read more than before. 25 books in 2016. Zadie Smith reckons reading is a form of meditation. How often can you sit and read and be fully engrossed in a book and not realise that you've been sat there for hours simply staring at marks of ink on paper, using your imagination to fill in the gaps the author has left for you. It's basically hallucination. More of that please.

Blog weekly. This place will be a testament to that! I'll try my best. Writing in itself is good enough, but writing with some kind of direction requires a bit more effort.

Avoid chocolate/sweets. I did this in 2014 and felt incredible for it. Yes I dreamt of eating Percy Pigs accidentally pretty much weekly until the end of the year, but my skin looked great. And my determination and self control led me to achieve some pretty amazing things (including running a half bloody marathon!)

Run more than before. Last year I clocked up 194 kilometres. This year I'm set on pushing past the 200km mark.

What do you resolve to do with this new page?

A spoonful of sugar

In the lead up to the Brighton Half I'm trying really hard not to get sick. As I write I'm making my way through a plateful of orange segments, reading some blogs & having a wee panic about what will happen in less than two weeks time.

I've hit my fundraising target (woo hoo!) so that's one massive relief. I've just got to, ya know, run 13 miles and hope it's not too hot/cold/rainy on the day. I'm not very good at dealing with the unexpected, so this will be a bit of an interesting challenge. I know I can run, I've got legs so that's a start. But it's all the little worries like 'Oh god, we're staying in a hostel the night before, will I sleep enough? Will the beds be comfy? Will I wake up with shin splits after my next run? Will my stomach settle enough on the day to run for two hours with all that anxiety swimming around?' It's all the little 'what if' worries that are making me second guess it all. But it'll be worth it. I know it will be worth it.

Running

Two things happened today, that resulted in me ending up here this evening.

1. I picked up a book called ‘Running Like a Girl’ by Alexandra Heminsley in Waterstones today whilst I was procrastinating about going to the gym. I already had my trainers on, but sometimes it takes me a while to get mentally where I need to be for a run. I went to Cafe Nero, for a pre-gym coffee & started reading, and within 20 minutes I was contemplating signing up for the Brighton Marathon next April. She made me want to run, and keep running, and then run some more. I realised how interesting I find it reading about other peoples fitness and running stories: how they started, their struggles, their accomplishments, their motivation, what works and what doesn’t. Essentially why people run (other than the obvious one - to get away from someone/somewhere/something.) 

1. I went to the gym as I intended and I had a really good 10K run. I write it so easily, like I’ve done it so many times before, but it was only my second feat. I’m getting fairly confident and perhaps slightly complacent with running just 5K so I figured it was a good way to step it up. When I was running today I let go. I fully relaxed my mind and let it wonder wherever it wanted to, and it took me back here. A seed was planted mid-run, and I decided that when I got home I’d have a go at writing about my running habits. 

So, here goes nothing!

My Running Goals

Beat my 5K time (26:55)

Beat my 10K time (60:23)

Run a half-marathon

Run a marathon

Run a total of 125K by the end of 2014

Run a total of 200K in 2015

Fitness Tips

Seeing as it’s that time of year when the sun comes out a little bit more (hurray for spring!) and I’ve recently started taking exercise a bit more seriously, I thought I’d share some of my tips for things that have improved my performance over the last few years. I’m by no means a pro, but I enjoy going to the gym and being active, it makes me feel a whole lot happier and I find it a good way of dealing with anxiety. I’m currently focussing on trying to get my 5K time down from 28 minutes to 24, so any training tips would be more than welcome!

Music

Personally a good playlist is my main motivator. If I’m not enjoying the track I’m listening to it will distract me from my run, and annoy the hell out of me until I change the song. I like listening to music that makes me laugh or want to dance. I once had a playlist with ‘It’s Not Unusual’ by Tom Jones which came on whilst I was plugging away on the cross-trainer. I’m glad I didn’t have my contact lenses in that day, no awkward eye-contact after pissing myself laughing. On my own. With headphones in. At a busy gym full of students. But it was a fun workout, and it certainly energised me.


Current favourite running tracks:

• Lethal Bizzle - Police On My Back (you can pretend you’re running away from the police)
• The Streets - Fit But Don’t You Know It 
• Outkast - Bombs Over Baghdad (instant energiser)
• TRex - I Love To Boogie
• Fatboy Slim - That Old Pair Of Jeans
• Mark Ronson ft. Amy Winehouse - Valerie 
• Desmond Dekker & The Acres - Israelites
• Jay-Z & Linkin Park - Numb Encore 
• Foo Fighters - Wheels
• Hot 8 - Sexual Healing

A decent sports bra
Enough said. Any ladies will know how much of a difference a bra that fits you just right can make to any given day. Same goes for exercise: I want something that will keep them in place but not restrict my movement or cut off blood flow to my tits. I currently own a really comfy and relatively cheap Nike sports bra that does a mighty fine job. 


Wiccy Magic Muscles
Since I've started running more, this massage bar has become my new best friend. The clove oil and cinnamon really gets to work stimulating blood flow, and the peppermint oil has a lovely cooling effect on well-used muscles. The brown bits in it are aduki beans, which also give a nice texture to massage with. And it leaves my skin feeling soft and moisturised. Yes please. 

Variety
I’m very much a routine kinda gal. I like the comfort of repetition - it makes me feel less anxious knowing that I’ve already done what I’m doing before, and therefore the chance of something going wrong less likely. (I know this might sound crazy to some people, but it is how it is!) But I also get bored easily of a routine. Over the last four years I’ve done various classes and activities: running, yoga, belly-dancing, cardio at the gym, hulahooping, weight training (small weights mind!) but I tend to do one at a time very rigidly rather than mix it up. I know this isn’t effective. At my peak of physical fitness I was doing a combination of small weights, cardio and hulahooping, and it was varied enough to keep me focussed and happy. I’m trying to get back to that happy place, where I’m doing several different activities a week to help my fitness progress, without losing interest in what I’m doing.