Sunday 26th April 2009

I took part in the Flora London Marathon, well me and 35,998 others.

On Sunday 26th April 2009 Michael and I took part in the Flora London Marathon, well us and 35,998 others. It was an early start for both of us, 5 am to be precise, had a taxi arriving for me at 6.20 am, as you can imagine I was a little tired and everything had become a little surreal. I arrived at Michael's at 6.50 am, but no rest for the wicked, not saying I'm wicked or anything, well maybe a bit but only in a good way. We left pretty rapidly to endure the bus and train journey which would eventually conclude at our destination, Greenwich Park, the starting place for the marathon.

The time was now 8.30 am and I was just getting my head round the thought of us running in such a huge race that was due to start in just over an hour when I saw people, young men and women suddenly change into rhinos, It was of course a costume that these people were donning, I don't think the organisers would be too happy if a rhino was allowed to run amok amidst the thousands of runners, yes they would be running but not for the marathon but for their lives. I remember thinking and commenting to Michael "I bet it's hot in there", I also remember deliberately looking at all the costumes, all the colours, all the styles. In fact I remember looking at everything and thinking about everything, anything that would put my mind at ease, anything that would calm my nerves because I was nervous, a nervous energy, more excitement than fear but this was a feeling like no other, a whole conundrum of emotions to savour and keep in check.


We met Mark who had had brought his camera along in order to film us and capture the moments during the race. I was hoping he would capture the good moments, the times when I'm smiling, happy, not to tired and just basically looking alive. However, I was getting this feeling that he would inevitably capture us looking tired, achy, and a tad grumpy and a trifle zombified. I knew I couldn't escape the fact that I was going to resemble these horrific images towards the latter half of the race, nothing I could do about it, just had to put myself through the adventure.

Before we knew it the moment had come. In the minutes that had passed we had changed into our running gear, pinned our numbers onto our shirts, successfully I may add, no skin pricking and no blood, stretched every muscle we had and filmed short piece for the camera. The time had just disappeared and soon it would be our turn to do just that, disappear into a huge cloud of runners all sharing the same dream, yearning to reach the finish line in one piece, at one with the world.

We were off, well the runners in front were off, and we weren't gonna cross the actual start line for about 15 minutes. So many people slowly walking to their destiny, consumed with bundles of nervous energy, all wishing each other luck, all one big happy family, all smiles. How were they to know that during their time in the race the smiles would fade and their true grit would ascend up to the surface?

I knew we were close, I could see the starting line. My feet were now touching the starting line, we were now on the other side of the line. Oh my god! I was running in the London Marathon, no turning back now, this was definitely it. The crowd was pretty heavy and claustrophobic for the first couple of miles, hard to see in front of you, hard to see a way out. Michael guided us through the mass and kept me at a comfortable pace. It was essential for me to find a pace that I could maintain and sustain for the first half of the race. I remember people cheering as they reached their first target of 1 mile, only another 25.2 miles to go, yea easier said than done believe me. The spectators were out in their thousands, a huge army of fans lining the 26.2 mile course, screaming at the top of their lungs, bellowing their support for their loved ones and complete strangers in equal measure, that's the good thing about this race, everyone was on the same side, prejudices and judgements were all put to bed, for one day anyway.

Along the route we came upon various bands and musical groups gearing us up, giving us a beat to run to, giving us the momentum to strive forward, giving us a rhythm to accompany, and making their music our friend, someone to smile with. Our first meeting point with Mark was coming up, mile 6 was on the horizon, I was happy to stop and talk because I wasn't tired, and I was feeling good and very much alive. Michael informed me we were on schedule, things were going to plan. We reached Mark, said a few bits about how we both were feeling at that time, you know like a progress report. We were making progress, definitely something to report.

As we set off again the crowd had died down a little, just enough space now for us to breathe and take it all in. The following 6 miles just flew by, I was keeping pace and feeling good but I'm sure that damn rhino had just passed me, a tad demoralising when you're passed by a six people in a very hot rubber rhino costume. Never mind, I'm sure I'll get a chance to pass them at some point during the race, it's just a costume, it's not a real animal. it can't run forever.

I knew we were reaching halfway house, halfway point in this enormous journey. I was looking forward to running over Tower Bridge at 12 miles. This is the bit where the crowd see you at your best, not only do you get a big cheer as you run over such a historic landmark but you also are happy with the knowledge that your energy sources haven't dissolved just yet. You're also aware that you are so close to 13 miles, you're almost halfway. Just another 13.2 miles to go.

Another film opportunity with Mark, getting a bit more tired now but still amazed that I haven't had to stretch my calves for 11 miles: that is a huge achievement for me. A group of Michael's friends had turned up to support us and cheer us on. A lovely bunch that never knew me but seemed to believe in me, I can't tell you what that did for my confidence.

We were due to meet up with my parents at the 19-20 mile mark; Michael said he would contact them when we were near. I was glad they were here to support me on such an occasion. We didn't get to see many of the celebrities that were taking part in the race but one encounter did occur. As Michael and I were reaching the 18 mile point Peter Andre was running alongside, I took the opportunity to go up to him and just say hello, we exchanged plea-sentries and handshakes. I guess it was the wrong time to try and have a deep meaningful conversation, when breath was something we both needed to conserve. At that point we were in front of him, which did cause a slight smile on my part, the fact that I was beating a toned, seemingly fitter celebrity.

Between 18 and 20 miles it all happened. My parents had somehow missed us in the crowd, I was getting tired, I struggled to talk into the camera for our next filming session and just when I didn't think it could get any worse, and it did!

During the 19 mile interview with Mark I suddenly felt very nauseous, an overwhelming feeling of fatigue and sickness washed over me. So bad in fact that I did have to throw up at the side of the road, I didn't know what had gone so wrong so quickly. Was it something to do with the energy gel bars we had consumed during the race? Was it heatstroke? The sun had become increasingly hot during the last hour or so. We were so, so close to the finish line, I didn't want to give up, didn't want to quit after coming this far but I knew it was crucial for this sick feeling to pass if I was going to have any realistic chance of completing this marathon. Luckily, after 5-10 minutes the awful feeling I was enduring began to subside. I was given a chance to finish this; maybe someone up there liked me.

I managed to get to 22 miles when all my energy had somehow depleted, nothing left in the tank, legs had turned to jelly, muscles, limbs and bones aching like never before. Michael was a rock right now; his job was to be a bit of a hard taskmaster, pushing me to the finish line. I have to say he did this very well; I didn't want to let him or myself down. Stumbling, limping, I managed to get to 25 miles. The last 1.2 miles would test me to the limit. I'd have to push through all my mental and physical barriers and focus on getting to the end; I wanted that medal around my neck, whatever it takes.

All the spirit, all the animal inside me took me to the last 200 yards. We were closing in on Birdcage Walk, closing in on that medal; the end was well in our sights. I'll never forget the thunderous applause, the deafening cheers that reached such a crescendo. I could see the finish line; emotions were dripping all over me. This was our time, this was my time. I raised my arms in celebration, bathed in all the jubilant glory that was mine.

Once the breath had come back, once my head had stopped spinning, once the personal timer tag was cut off of my laces, the medal found its new home around my neck. A privilege and honour to wear it. I felt that I had deserved it; we worked very hard for this moment. I had just ran the race of my life.

We met up with everyone afterwards; I was talking but still in a daze as I was still trying to take in what had just happened. I had just ran the London Marathon. WOW!

I WOULD TO SAY A BIG THANKYOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART TO EVERYONE THAT HAS SUPPORTED MICHAEL AND I ON THIS JOURNEY. WE WOULD NEVER HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOU.

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