Not unlike most people, I never knew when the London Marathon was happening until I turned on BBC1 on a Sunday morning. Again, not unlike most people, I was also probably sharing a self inflected and less than desirable sore head from the previous night’s overindulgence. Despite never having lived in London or watched a full marathon event, I would recognise the famous sights, where the runners would hairpin around the Cutty Sark, interview at Tower Bridge and sprint/stumble across the finish line at The Mall. I’d be amused at the funny costumes and share empathy with those running for the good causes; however, I mainly got on with my day, marginally interested in who won the race and in what time.
Admittedly, until recently I had never seen the appeal in running. To me running was repetitive, monotonous, pavement bashing, but my ignorance was stemmed from never having given it a go. I have however always been a keen sportsman. During my younger years I tried everything from multi event athletics (inc. 100m, relays, hurdles, pole vault, long jump and high jump) to rugby, squash, football and judo. On leaving school I was still a big sports fan, however, my love of sport became more of an observer rather than a participator. My fitness relied on frequent attendance at the gym.
During my postgraduate course I rowed, which was a lot of fun, even during the freezing wintry mornings.
About 5 years ago I leaped back into sports participation, as I knew that I was wasting an immense amount of enthusiasm and energy. I did taekwondo for 18 months before injury and relocation halted my progress.
In 2015 I signed up for a 10km obstacle course (Men’s Health Survival of the Fittest) with work colleagues, and I had to undertake some training in preparation as I had never run that far before. I took to running really well in training, but the event wasn’t that challenging, apart from the combination of hypothermic conditions from early snow fall that day and water based obstacles. This provided the first glimpse of myself pursuing running as a weekend hobby. After that I would fit in weekly or bi-weekly runs on the weekend, nothing serious, 6-10km depending how I felt, even on wintery Saturday mornings in February. Call me mad but I enjoy that sharp, crisp, chill that hits you in winter. It’s invigorating.
Just over 3 years ago I moved to Canada Water in London. It just so happened that the Marathon route ran straight past my flat, at the 10km mark. I knew in advance when the Marathon was happening because of the railings that were being set up in the week preceding the event. This time, I was interested. The first year my flatmate and I decided to watch the runners. We walked for 5km with the Dicken's Inn pub being our destination, just after crossing Tower Bridge. The amount of runners and supporters was overwhelming. There were live orchestras in the street, people spilling into pubs in the hundreds and DJ sets along the course. The atmosphere can only be described as jubilant, a festival, uniting London for the day. Later that day after the Marathon had finished, every now and again a finisher would walk into the pub and would receive a spontaneous and rapturous round of applause. It was just an excellent day. Notwithstanding my amazing induction into the spirit of the Marathon, plus the 5 pints I’d had by that time, I managed to make a sweeping declaration that I would never run the marathon. Too long, too hard, too much training.
Later that year I did the Spartan 10km obstacle course. Again, I didn’t feel particularly challenged by it. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun, but there’s too much standing around waiting for obstacles, although my colleague did break her foot.
A year later I went to watch the marathon on my own. I walked 7km this time and ended up by the Embankment. Again, another fantastic day. This time I was feeling more inspired by the runners and I said to myself “maybe in 10 years’ time”.
Three years is a long time from the never comment. I turned 30 this year and reflected on my life. I felt as though I could have done much more with sport and I was a bit disappointed with myself for wasting my sporting potential in my twenties. This year I went into the city and watched the Marathon again. I do love a good anecdote and I won’t labour this story, but, don’t go there on a second date. Trust me, four hours of walking around aimlessly dodging masses of people… it allows for a lot of awkward silence. There was not a third. It was a blisteringly hot day (hottest London Marathon on record). I saw about 4 or 5 separate teams of Paramedics carrying people on stretchers for varying injuries. Call me masochistic, but on seeing this I thought to myself “this is the challenge I need”. That night I researched how to enter the 2019 London Marathon.
Since the end of April 2018 I have reengaged with sport participation. I’m frequently running 6-10km home from work (depending on the route). I went to Svalbard and kayaked icebergs and I recently went bouldering. I’m also quite excited to have recently organised a cycling tour of the Scottish Highlands spanning 180 miles around Fort William and the Isle of Skye. Perfect preparation before I begin my Marathon training schedule later this year.
It may seem strange for a 30 year old to say this, but even universally, it’s never too late to get back into sport/fitness. It doesn’t matter if it’s hiking, ultimate frisbee or playing rugby; or if the goal is for fitness, camaraderie, or just plain fun. I’m feeling re-energised and I’m looking forward to doing much, much more.
I will no doubt be offering advice throughout my journey until my final steps down The Mall, so it helps to know who is giving that advice. This opening blog entry has been more about my life than the Marathon so far. I’ve tried not to sound too self-interested, but for anyone who is reading my blog, you may share some of my experiences or you may be able to extrapolate some into your own experiences.
One last thing… never, say never.