The Race - Final Miles

In those many years of couch potatoism, sat on a Sunday morning watching the marathon on tv; I always imagined those last three or four miles being the worst. The most agonising, the most desperate. So close to the goal while at the same time trying to convince the body to keep moving. Energy at an all time low, exhausted like never before. But there, in the tv looking out; I found the experience quite different. Sure I was knackered, everything was hurting and I had long ceased to count the miles (being now reduced to just making it to the next lamp post); but I felt so so SOOOOOOOO good. Yes, you heard me; I felt good! Was I mad?? Well, of course yes; anyone who runs a marathon is clinically insane, but in this particular case there was some method within it.

It went like this. With so little distance remaining there was no way ON THE PLANET I was going to stop now. I had come so far - not just 23 miles, far longer in both distance and time - so whatever was to befall me now (tripping over...leg falling off...extinction life event meteor) was utterly irrelevant. I was going to finish the race.

Now, to realise this before the race was actually over was quite a revelation; to feel a supreme confidence of success before the success was achieved. And what did this mean for me on those remaining miles? what was I doing? what was I feeling? Well that's quite simple.....

.....I was celebrating!!

Okay, I had no energy to punch the air, hell I had no energy to even so much as raise my hands above my shoulders; and yes it hurt....a lot. But don't let that fool you, I was loving every step. The crowds were intensifying, feeding off the atmosphere and contributing to it thousands of times over, making themselves well and truly heard. I honestly could not quite believe what I was seeing and hearing near journeys end. The crescendo building to its incredible - and what I now was sure of, inevitable - climax.

Then comes mile 23-24, and 'The Tunnel Of Yes'. Yes, yes, there was a tunnel of yes; ooooooh yes!! When you explain it as 'just a tunnel where they were handing out bottles of Lucozade with inspirational messages on balloons lining the route' it really doesn't seem like much; but I tell you, it was exactly what we all needed. Helpers yelling us on, spectators booming out their support, and runners exchanging meaningful glances with their fellow exhaustees; every one of us united in two simple words......

......almost.....

......there.....

Then comes the tunnel itself (video below), and the roar of the crowds dies away, leaving only the sound of running shoe on tarmac, and very, very heavy breathing. Weird in the extreme, not to mention the perfect time to break into a sneaky walk, or stop under the pretence of stretching your calves - no one will ever know - but when you start reading those balloons; telling us......

HAVE YOU GOT MORE IN YOU?!!

BE PROUD

ENJOY THE MOMENT

PAIN IS TEMPORARY

KEEP GOING

DIG DEEP

NEVER GIVE UP

GLORY AWAITS

YOU ARE SO CLOSE

......and fatigue?......PEH!!.....what fatigue!!? I was going all the way baby! I will admit to a few tears on reading those messages, but what happened next utterly finished me off. Just as quickly as the crowd noise died away entering the tunnels, we were battered by it coming out; and what a noise. It made what went before seem like a vow of silence. It felt like coming home.

Unfortunately it only felt like it, I still had to run! Regaining focus was impossible; to be honest I didn't want to. Moments like these are rare and fleeting, and may never happen again (and even if I have another crack at the London Marathon, I will never again have a first time), so I drank it in; enjoyed it. Even allowing myself the odd wave and fist-pump.

Mile twenty-five and people around me started getting out their phones; talking to friends and family at the finish, finding out where they would be standing. I thought about doing the same, but was very sceptical of my chances of unzipping arm pouch, getting phone out, dialling number, talking, putting phone back in arm pouch and zipping said arm pouch without a severe case of droppage and multi running shoe-tramplage (see, I'm a runner now, I know all the technical terms!).

Is this really happening? Am I really here and doing this? Have I almost done this or am I going to wake up tomorrow morning nineteen and a half stone again with all of this just a fantasy?

Nope, it was very much real. Twenty-five miles and 385 yards gone - one mile to go - and the distance markers are now counting down the distance remaining, 200 yards at a time. Passing one, I could already see the next one in the distance, beckoning me on; pulling me towards it. 400 yards to go, and the tarmac goes from black to the familiar red; coincided with the first view of Buckingham Palace in all its glory. The final turn down The Mall, and the finish in sight.

Now there are many possible emotions available to a person at the end of a two year long challenge. The person themselves may not necessarily be aware of their own reaction; maybe slightly tearful, maybe sobbing uncontrollably like you've just watched an episode of DIY SOS, maybe cheering, maybe that angry yell of emotional release.....nope......

......I laughed!!

With joy, with amusement, with positivity, with achievement, with relief, with overwhelment (and yes it is a word), with the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Yes, I laughed myself down the mall.....

and......

.....over....

.....the....

....line.