Three hours thirty seven minutes and five seconds

Day:         119
Distance: 42.2km/26.2 miles

Time:       3:37:05 secs

Calories:  3,620

So, as you can see from the stats above, I did it. I completed the London Marathon and beat my stated target time of 3:40 mins. There was a time when I thought I was on for a sub 3:30 time, but I'll get to that in due course.

The day began early with a bowl of porridge, which seems to be the breakfast of choice for runners and Scots the world over. I arrived in Greenwich at about 9am and was blown away by the number of people making their way to the start line in Greenwich Park. Although I didn't have a map with me there was no need to ask for directions. 

The marathon starts at 9.45am. Having watched the marathon on TV in previous years it always looks like it takes ages for this great tidal wave of runners to get moving, but to my surprise I was over the starting line inside two minutes. Also to my surprise I found that I was able to run unimpeded pretty much from the start. I'd assumed that I'd spend the first few miles tripping over other runners and weaving in and out, but I was able to settle into a comfortable pace really easily. In fact, the comfortable pace was far faster than I'd intended to run. In order to achieve my target I knew I needed to average around 8:22 mins/mile, but at the first mile marker I checked my watch and found that I'd covered it in just 7:38 mins/mile.

This, apparently, is a classic mistake that novice runners make when running a marathon. But the pace felt manageable, so I stuck with it and for the first 16 miles I was chalking off the miles at an average pace of 7:44 mins/mile. Things were going so well that I began to get delusions of grandeur and had begun to think I could complete the 26.2 mile course in under 3.5 hours.

Who knows, maybe I could have managed it in that time but around mile 15 my left knee (the one I hurt three weeks ago) began issuing warning signs. A quick prayer to the running gods seemed to sort it out, but the problem reappeared at mile 17. I couldn't face the prospect of not finishing something to which I'd dedicated 17 weeks of my life and which friends, family and well-wishers had donated hard earned cash for so I reluctantly took my foot off the gas.

From mile 17 on Run Keeper shows that the miles were taking longer to complete although, curiously, it shows that I completed mile 20 in just 2:42 mins/mile - take that Roger Bannister! While I'd love to think that I could have covered this distance in that time there are two reasons why I suspect this isn't the case. For one, Run Keeper uses GPS technology to track your run and during mile 20, which is around Canary Wharf, the route passes through a tunnel so I'm guessing the GPS signal was lost. The other reason is that around 20 miles in I really started to feel the effects of running a marathon. 

Runners often talk about hitting the 'wall' and while I never actually hit it I had to take on a lot more fluid and carbohydrate gel after mile 20 and I could really feel the toll that running was taking on my feet. While I enjoyed the first 20 miles I would say the remainder were endured. During those last 6 miles you see a lot of people walking, a lot of people crashing out and a lot of paramedics helping out stricken runners. You don't see too many smiling faces on your fellow runners. There were times when I looked at those who were walking and thought "that looks like a good idea", but I couldn't bring myself to stop as I knew that if I did I wouldn't be able to start running again. I think that from mile 23 onwards I was running on a heady cocktail of instinct, grim determination and encouragement from the crowd.

At this point I really should mention the crowd at the London Marathon. It is a unique, and if you'll pardon a cliché, carnival atmosphere with people thronging the route from start to finish. I have no idea how many spectators come out, but there are thousands upon thousands of them. There are people willing you on, people looking for high fives, people calling out your name (I'm really glad I had 'Yax Dog' emblazoned on my running vest), people holding out sweets and then there are the people who come out to watch you specifically. 


I was fortunate enough to have a large group of friends and family who were there to support me. I'd provided them with a set of timings to give them an idea of where I'd be at certain points, but because I set off at a quicker than expected pace they missed me at mile 9 (Canada Water). Fearing that they'd endure an entire marathon of near misses I fished my phone out of my pocket and called my wife (whose phone was dead), my dad (who didn't answer) and my best man (who did answer) to tell them I'd already been through so they should head to mile 11. As I was coming up to mile 11 I made sure I was on the outside so that I could see them if they'd made it to that point and the cheer that erupted from those who were there was fantastic. I later found out that they had only just made it to that spot seconds before I ran past, so it could easily have been another near miss. 


I also saw my friends and family at mile 19 and at a point between mile 25 and 26 - the latter was one of the standout moments of the marathon for me as I was in a lot of pain by that point, but when I saw (and heard) them all I was swept along by their cheers and I really upped my pace.

Some high five action in somewhere in Westminster between
mile 25 and 26. My brother in law took this action shot - I love it.

Well, I upped my pace for the brief moment while I was passing by. Unfortunately, I had underestimated how much further I had to go and as I turned the corner I was confronted by a sign which said "800m to go". I'm sure that sign is meant to provide encouragement for runners, but not for me. Whoever decided it would be a good idea is an utter, utter bastard. I took no encouragement from that sign whatsoever. I thought I'd already finished only to find I still had the best part of a kilometre left to run and those 800 metres seemed to last an eternity as I made my way down the Mall to cross the line with my arms held high.

You won't be surprised to hear that I felt absolutely ruined at the end, but in line with advice I'd received prior to the race I stayed on my feet, collected my medal, did some stretches and went off to meet my friends and family. We'd agreed to meet at my family initial in Horse Guards Road. Now, my family name begins with a 'Y' and the runners meet and greet section is laid out in alphabetical order. Never in all my life have I ever wished so much that my name began with an 'A'. 

Adopting an unintentional zombie-esque shuffle I slowly made my way from the finish line to the 'Y' section of the runners' meet and greet. Despite the less than pleasant aroma that had surrounded me I received a number of welcome hugs from friends and family before realising that I had less balance than an editorial in the Sun newspaper. On a couple of occasions I felt as though I could just fall over, so decided that lying down was a better option than standing up.

I look relatively fresh in this picture, but
soon after showing off the medal I tried
to get up only to realise that my balance
was completely shot, so I decided to
stay lying down for a few minutes more.

I was expecting to feel tired and emotional at the end of the marathon, but I hadn't anticipated this loss of balance. I don't know if this is something that a lot of runners experience, but it took me completely by surprise.

The results from the marathon get uploaded to the official website really quickly, so I was able to see how I did in comparison with the other 36,499 runners who took part. No doubt you'll be shocked to hear that I didn't win (apparently some Kenyan chap came in slightly ahead of me), in fact I came 4,876th overall. It would have been nice to have been in the top 10%, but maybe that's what my next goal should be?

Which brings me to the question that I've been asked on a number of occasions since crossing the finish line: would I do it again?

If you'd have asked me at some point from mile 21 on you'd have received a withering look and sarcastic reply, but now I can look back and realise what an amazing achievement it is. That includes the fundraising element of running the marathon as well. My initial target of £1,000 was reached weeks ago, so I upped the amount to £1,500. At the time of writing I've raised an amazing £1,748.95. The company that I work for - GfK NOP - will very kindly match that amount, that plus the gift aid (£477.12) means that Diabetes UK should be very happy. Thank you, once again, to everyone who has dipped their hands into their pockets to support me.

So much time, effort and energy is thrown into preparing for and running a marathon that I'm actually going to miss not training for it. Although my feet and legs are in a hitherto unimagined world of pain today thoughts have already turned towards the next run. I'm the sort of person who needs a target to aim for, so I've already got the Richmond half marathon planned for May and I would like to get another marathon in the diary. From Boston to Berlin, Paris to Prague there's plenty of choice out there, but I wonder whether any of them have the same kind of magic as the London Marathon?