I am writing this blog post wrapped up in blankets in my
hotel room in London – with the heating on high – not only recovering from the
marathon but a dose of hypothermia. It
is the day after the marathon and I was so sick last night that I couldn’t stop
shivering from the cold and not even a hot shower warmed me up. This blog post truly reflects the highs and
lows of the marathon challenge – I would like to write just about the highs but
that’s not what this experience is about.
This blog is picked up as I
crossed the start line.
Running across the start line is quite amusing in many ways
– folks, we have 42.2km ahead to duck and weave and get ahead of the pack. At 300m into the run, folks who duck and
weave are nothing but tossers and create trip hazards for everyone else. Take a deep breath – resist the temptation to
duck and weave – and the starting line pack will dissipate within a few
minutes. I have done (now) all of 2
marathons and 2 half marathons and this fact is well known to the novice
(people like me) as well as the more experienced folks. The second hazard heading over the starting
line and in the first few hundred metres until the starting pack dissipates, is
being hit in the face by plaits and pony tails – mostly from other
fitsistas. Girls, if you have long hair
and have gone to the effort in putting it into plaits or a pony tail for your
own comfort, can you spare a thought for others you are running close to at the
start – the rhythm of your running creates quite a spectacular harmonic motion
of the pony tails and plaits, whacking the runners you are passing in the face.
Quite incredible –all along the 42.2km course, local people
and supporters were lined cheering the runners on. In local townships, there were all sorts of
bands playing – rock, brass and bag pipes!
I ran through one town with the sounds of Tom Jones blaring out ‘She’s A
Lady’ – really made me laugh and pick up my pace! Local people would call out – ‘c’mon luv –
well done – you can do it’ – the encouragement was so amazing! Running through these townships, the Sunday
morning aroma of pub breakfasts and bbq’s was beautiful – if I couldn’t eat the
breakfast at that point, nothing as going to stop me from sucking in those
breakfast aromas! Running across Tower Bridge with the other runners and the enthusiasm
and support of the crowds was just amazing!
I had started out with a really super light technical top
under my running singlet, but after about 4 kms, I pulled off to the side of
the road took off my under top and tied it around my waist and ran in my
singlet. Whilst this was a sensible
thing to do at this point in the race – it was sunny and mild – it created two
problems for me. First, I had not
applied sun screen to the bits that I thought would be covered for the duration
of the race – ie my arms. Second, within
a few hours the happy sunny weather would turn very nasty and cold, and I was
now exposed to the elements.
The first half of the marathon went super well and I felt
good. But not long after half way, I
noticed the clouds building and I hoped and prayed that the weather would hold
off for a few more hours. My good weather prayers were not heard! Clearly
the rain would come soon so I ran on for a few more kilometres looking to the
clouds and trying to get as far along as possible before the inevitable weather
change happened. And drop by drop, the
icy rain came, the temperature dropped – and it was cold – like needles into
the skin. I kept going – even a toilet
stop was a problem – queuing in the freezing rain was worse than running in the
freezing rain – I could feel my body temperature drop as I shivered. (And then I thought about the clever guys who
I admonished for lining up to the wall earlier in the day at the start line…)
The timing of the changed weather and freezing rain was a
little unkind for us slower runners. The
elites finished in brilliant sunshine – picture perfect conditions. Good runners also finished in plenty of time
– and were well away and on the tube before the heavens opened up. For us slower runners, we had two options –
stop, or keep going. The keep going
options was not the same as keep going under good conditions type keep going –
keep going in the icy rain meant it will take longer, it will be harder and
there is a high likelihood of not finishing.
A number of my marathon mates did not realise how bad the weather had
become.
I kept running in these freezing conditions – and I noticed
that other runners and walkers were being given space blankets and plastic
ponchos. I looked at my arms and they
felt like bits of cold meat and with hours to go, I did not know if I would be
able to finish in these conditions – I was shivering and was really worried
about hypothermia.
One of the best things I took with me in my fuel belt (apart
from my jelly babies), was a plastic poncho.
If the rain wasn’t stopping any time soon then I had to put the poncho
on – at this point I was so wet and cold, that getting the poncho out of the
packet and unwrapped was so frustrating.
I thought I had finally got it on and I realised that I had my arm
through the neck hole…But running in this thing was impossible – and I figured
I could go faster by walking than running tied up in a plastic poncho. So I walked as fast as I would go. My cap was wet, my head was cold – and my
runners and socks were drenched. Still
more than 10km to go. I saw one St
John’s Ambulance person call out to a runner /walker in front of me and asked
them to come to the side of the road for a health check – the marathon was over
for that person and I felt sorry for him.
I was feeling unbearably cold, and tried to walk as fast as I could go
to avoid the concerned gazes of the St John’s people.
At about 3 miles to go (4.8 km), Nadia Killeen our organiser
from Inspired Adventures, saw me and called out – she had an umbrella and rain
coat, I was in my plastic poncho and we managed to get a photo in the pouring
rain (photo to come). Not long to go –
but I was really worried that I would be taken out with hypothermia. I kept thinking that I never ever wanted to
feel this cold and wet again – I wanted to move to the Gold Coast and never
experience cold again – the cold went to the bone, no other way to describe it.
At about the 1 mile mark, two wonderful ladies on the side
of the road held up cardboard signs – one sign read ‘not long to go now’ and
the other sign read ‘promise’. It was
still raining hard and the wind was painful and I was shivering.
As I turned onto the Mall with 800m to go, my weather
prayers were answered and the rain eased up – I ripped the poncho down the
middle in the hope of letting go of it before I crossed the finish line. At 400m – and with quite a few photographers
around J -
I threw off the poncho, straightened up as much as I could and ran to the
finish. I was shaking and shivering with
cold.
I had finished the marathon – just. And I knew it was only ‘just’. The distance wasn’t the challenge in the end,
it was the cold.
As I ran across the finish line, I thought of Allan at home
who has loved running all his life but was not able to travel with me due to
his health travel restrictions. He
motivated me and coached me in running over the past few years – this is about
more than running, it’s about having an open mind, a positive attitude,
accepting challenges in life and making opportunities from those challenges. Allan
had been following my marathon progress online through the early hours in the
morning in Australia and was texting encouragement as I passed the various
milestones – how cool is technology to connect us in this way – and I really
looked forward to getting his messages. My
daughters Belinda and Sheridan and my sister Maureen were also following my
progress online – my cheer squad were at every point along the course, I was
not alone.
At 4:59pm London time, I texted my cheer squad the message
‘Finished xxx’.
Did I push myself too hard, given the conditions? No, I was really remaining aware of the
conditions and how I was travelling – I had actually made the decision to pull
out a few kilometres back - I was aware that I could not have run the whole
marathon in those conditions. That’s why
I was so apprehensive about the weather conditions during the bus top tour on
the Friday before. At this point, the
challenge was not about the marathon, but about the weather conditions and
exposure.
Just past the finish line, our timing chips were cut from
our laces in an assembly line process, the London Marathon medals around our
neck and a quick finish line photo with the medal.
I had not been to the toilet for hours and was busting – but
I was freezing and shivering and wanted to collect my red London Marathon bag of
dry clothes that we have put onto trucks at the start line. I looked for the
truck with my number and it was all closed up. I was really looking forward to my warm dry
hoodie. The bags for runners finishing a bit later had been put (in number
sequence) onto the footpath – and with the rain, everything inside was
damp. I leaned against a tree, and
pulled out the least damp hoodie. I pulled the red London Marathon space
blanket around my damp hoodie. I didn’t
feel like a champion – I felt sick and cold and wet – and I was still busting
to go to the loo. But I just knew that I
would not have coped with a port-a-loo in the condition I was in. If I stopped, I would have vomited and wet
myself. And the shivering was getting
worse.
I have no knowledge of the London rail tube system and at
this point, feeling like human detritus thought that if I got onto the tube
in the condition I was in, the health department would evacuate the city!
So, standing at the corner just passed Admiralty Arch,
a pedi cab (tut tut) driver, offered to take me back to my hotel for £30 – what the? That’s just a couple of blocks away! But I took a few seconds to look around, and
see the roads gridlocked with London cabs and buses going nowhere. So I accepted the tut tut driver’s offer,
paid the 30 quid and off we went – darting in and out of the traffic – and if I
didn’t feel so sick it would have been fun.
The tut tut had no wind protection and the streets were like wind
tunnels and I had to fight off throwing up as I shivered. As the tut tut stopped behind a bus at the traffic
lights, there was momentary relief provided by the warmth of the bus’s engine. The tut tut driver told me that he was
planning to stay in the UK until after the Olympics – I find it incredible to
think that a form of transportation from the developing economies can be so
effective and lucrative in more developed economies.
I had planned to go to the Pret sandwich shop on the
corner near the hotel to pick up a sandwich and hot drink but I was so cold,
wet and shivering that I went as quickly as I could to my hotel room. I felt frozen stiff as I stood under the hot
shower fully clothed except for my shoes.
And after I dried off, I wrapped the doona around myself to keep
warm. I had planned to join the Aussie
marathon mates for a celebration at the pub, but I was clearly not going
anywhere. I ordered room service – I
celebrated with a few spoons of plain pasta and it never tasted so good.
In my next blog post, I will write about some of the
wonderful people on the Aussie marathon team, and the people I saw along the
course.
