The Cutty Sark!!
I have visited the country’s capital on numerous occasions,
yet it was through these twenty six miles
that I got the first glimpse of many of the biggest and best landmarks
which ‘the smoke’ has to offer; - and from I think it’s safe to say a ‘unique
perspective’! - this fine tea clipper being just one of them. Once again I had
this immense feeling of privilege that I should be there, witnessing these
things for my first time, doing what I was doing for the first time. Truly
unforgettable!
It was all beginning to feel strangely straight forward; the
mile posts were coming and going and I was simply enjoying the journey. Good
old Age UK were there just beyond ‘The Sark’ (as we athletes….don’t call it….)
to simultaneously give me a rousing welcome and send off; then again at mile
eleven (I am seriously considering asking them to provide this sort of support
on all my journeys…… HEYYYYYYY!!! AWOOGA AWOOGA; ADYBLADY IS LEAVING THE HOUSE
TO GO TO WOOOOOOOOOORK!!!!!!). You are already aware how much hefty hard work
the fund raising has been, but I can heartily recommend it for your first
marathon (if you are mad enough) as it comes with a built-in extended family of
people shouting your name!
Feeling good, and I guess what you could say ‘in the zone’;
steady pace established. I started to think that I might actually be able to do
this. Don’t worry though; I dismissed such cavalier thoughts from my mind
immediately.
Mile eight was the next family cheerpoint, or should that be
cheerpoints! Three for the price of one!! First there was brother Paul (yes,
the giving a box of chocolates one) and Martha the leaping in front of athletes
sister-in-law. This time however it was me who saw them. I must have been exceeding
the expectations of my predicted speed (lumbering faster than originally
thought!) as when I trotted past I saw them setting up the camera for an action
photo…..oblivious to the fact that the action in question was approaching,
passing, departing! Just time for a quick wave and a shout before it was eyes
front and on with the race……
……at least for about 200 yards as on the same side screaming
their lungs out were brother Dom (my brother, not holy orders) and his partner
Christina (see, told ya!), who had that morning coached it down from Sheffield;
bless them! They also hold the dubious honour of being present through all
three of the fatmantofitman runs; which in itself deserves a medal. His early
morning e-mail on marathon day reads ‘eh yup Adrian; we’re just getting on the
coach to go and watch my mad younger brother run the London Marathon. What are
you up to??’ Great to see him and give him a wave and a pump of the fist…..but
now it was time to focus on running……
…….Oooooooooh no it wasn’t; as who should appear in the
crowd, jumping about, but Alison (wee Ali; remember her, staunch supporter and
commenter of the blog right from when it was nothing but a glint on his daddies
keyboard?). My full-to-the-brim cup at that moment ranneth over. It’s probably
with Alison that I talked most often about the challenge; she had told me that
every London marathon day for so many years I had bored her senseless with
claims that next year would be my year. I would be there amongst the runners. I
wonder how she felt on the day when I finally delivered on that promise?
Surprised no doubt; I know I was!!
I think it’s safe to say that I had a much more significant
bounce in my step after those few hundred yards; a bounce that lasted long
after mile posts nine, ten, eleven were trembling in my wake. It wasn’t just
seeing my ‘fans’; it was the thought of them darting back on the tube for the
next vantage point, coordinating their movements so that as much of the journey
is covered by a familiar face….whether I saw them or not!
