I did it. I actually did it. The race I’ve been talking about for the last 6 months is now behind me.
I’m so proud of myself for finishing, although I always knew I would, in some shape or form. It’s that word again, Persevere. If I had to cross the line by crawling over it, I would have.
So what can I say of the race? I’m not going to lie. It was tough. It’s a bloody long way, but nothing prepares you for the support of the crowd, and the other runners. The sense of community and charity is amazing, the atmosphere as you are pounding those London streets is incredible. I feel so lucky to have been able to experience it. It was humbling too, given what had happened in Boston a mere week before. The silence we observed at the start line was emotional.
I had highs and lows during the 5 hours 41 minutes. Lots of the former and only one of the latter (that being the toilet facilities at the race. Nerves means toilet visits for me, and lets just say a “women’s urinal” in the great outdoors doesn’t make for a good experience. Stage fright ahoy!)
Seeing my folks and Richard at Miles 13 and 25 cheering me on, sign in hand;
Being spurred on and “thumbs upped” by my fellow Crohn’s runners; the crowd; my last sprint down the Mall; Celebrating at Horseguards Parade, medal around neck.
I can say with absolute certainty though that I won’t be doing this again. It was a one-time deal, and now it’s done. I’m not saying that I won’t run in any shape or form. A 10K or possibly a Half, I would probably do. The 26.2 mile race though is now checked-off on my Bucket list (although the Moonwalk still appeals). I don’t think Marathon running is good for the body, mine at least.
Been there, done that and got the two t-shirts. And I’m so very proud of myself for that.