London Marathon Mission Accomplished - with Hypothermia

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.