The final blog- MARATHON MADNESS

It's with hugely mixed emotions that I write this post. Relief mostly. But also pride, thankfulness, happiness and yet sadness too. Hopefully you'll be able to understand why as you read on.
It's going to be a long one I'm afraid as there's so much to fit in but this really is the final chapter in my marathon journey so, sit back, put your feet up (mine are- my knees hurt too much to be bent!) and enjoy.

The week before the marathon:

The days before the marathon seem like such a long time ago now. I remember them with fond memories for those were the days when I could still walk normally, sit down without wincing and bend my knees without a little cry of "oooohhhwww". But enough of that- you'll hear all about post marathon events later!
I spent last week at work on "long days" meaning 13 hour shifts operating on poorly people that needed to be parted from their appendixes and various other bowely bits and pieces. That meant no training but a lot of walking around the hospital feeling pretty tired and not eating or drinking much. Apparently not the best pre-marathon build up!
Nonetheless, Friday arrived and we set off for London and the Excel centre for pre-marathon registration. This is where you produce your photo ID to prove you've not paid someone else to run it for you (shame- that was that plan off the list) and are given your official number, electronic chip, goody bag of random free stuff (bag of rice, London pride beer, nutri-grain bar and sports gel- it's a bit like a warped Ready Steady Cook challenge. Lucozade and ale flavoured rice pudding anybody?) and generally walk around trying not to hyperventilate with anxiety. I spent much of it fighting back tears of sadness at people's reasons for running (including my own) and general emotion at the looming challenge. It suddenly all felt very real.
Here's some pics:

 

A giant trainer

Looking nervous

Encouragement board. I was typically too emotional to write anything.

We also visited the British Heart Foundation stand to say a cheery hello and pick up some supporter's t-shirts. They had a heart board for people's reasons for running. I cried here too.

 

Then we wondered round to a polaroid photo thingy. Katherine drew lots of "oohs and aahs" for being cute. Actually she was being tired, hungry and grumpy so then we headed off before there were more Elsey tears at the Excel.

I think that I really need to make a mention here of the incredible generosity from so many wonderful people that have donated to British Heart Foundation in support of this ridiculous marathon plan. I had a target in mind of raising £2500 which seemed really out of reach just a few weeks ago. At present, the official total I've raised is over £3000. This is AMAZING. Thank you so much for supporting me financially with this challenge. I think it's an incredible amount of money for you lot to have donated and I'm so thrilled to be passing it on to British Heart Foundation in memory of Mark and also in support of so many that live with heart disease, including Charlie and his family and friends. There really isn't much else to say other than I'm so humbled by your generous giving and so glad that I made it round and didn't let you down! Thank you.

Other pre-marathon preparation included eating more carbohydate than is humanly possible (I am sick of pasta), feeling sick (with nerves and possibly too much pasta. I even had to give my chocolate brownie to Katherine) and drinking plenty of water. On Saturday night I fretted about, couldn't sit still (I can only bear to sit still now!) and fiddled with my kit. Here it all is:

And so it was done. Trained (sort of), carb loaded, registered and ready as I'd ever be to run a marathon......

MARATHON!

Woke up at 06:15 having dreamt about the marathon all night. Immediately felt more nervous than spectators stood near Paula when she needs a wee and was overcome with anxiety nausea and panic. Forced some porridge down and posed for pre-marathon photos. Katherine helpfully announced "I run fast! Mummy runs slow." Little monkey. True though.... Here she is:

Check out her supporter t-shirt!

Then we set off for the start at Greenwich park. We've all seen the marathon coverage on the television but the sheer scale of the event really is breathtaking. It is an enormous set up with literally 37000 runners and thousands of support staff manning the water stations/ lucozade stations/ marshalling/ sorting out runner's bag/ setting up/ clearing up. It is actually quite overwhelming and I was grateful for my buddy Stu who was also running to keep me comapny amidst the crowds. It was a beautiful morning and thankfully not a cloud in sight so we could wait around in warm sunshine before it was time to line up for the start. Here's me in my bin bag keeping warm:

Trend-setter

The marathon is so massive that there are three starts. I was at the red start which is where all the "fun" (pahahaha- yeah right) runners are. It is then split into 9 zones based on people's predicted finish times. I was, of course, at the back in zone 9. It's impossible to see the start from zones 2 and back and it took something like 25 minutes just to get across the start line from the back.

So many people into the distance

And then we were off.

The first 8 miles went well. The sun was shining. The crowds were cheering. I was running (too slowly- lots of runners to battle through and not listening to my ipod to pace me) and actually enjoying it. I overtook two runners dressed as the jamaican bobsleigh team, complete with a wooden bobsleigh, a pot of ambrosia, a pot of marmite and two soldiers with a trojan horse, a giant telephone and Peppa pig. I also really needed to wee owing to the bottle of lucozade I'd drunk just before the start. Error number one! I tried to hold on but fearing that my pelvic floor wouldn't hold out and that I might inadvertedly do "A Paula" I decided to stop and queue for the loo. It took ages! I must have been waiting for nearly 20minutes looking at the stats on the website. This was really annoying as it felt hard to get going again, especially as I soon realised that all the fancy dress people had overtaken me whilst I was waiting for a portaloo.

Anyway, off I went again and carried on soaking up the atmosphere and feeling pretty pleased with myself. Little did I know what was to come! Round Cutty Sark was really good- lots of crowds cheering and lovely views. This was what running the marathon is all about- running with lots of other runners, feeling good, raising money for charity, remembering and celebrating a friend or family member whilst being cheered on by brilliant supporters. If only it had stayed that way.....

The next memorable moment was at mile 11 when I bumped into this lot:

Lyndsay, Katherine, Corinne, Jonathan (Step-Dad), Mum, Ruth (Mum-in-law)
Matt was taking the photo!

They had all been patiently waiting for over 2 hours to see me and I must have stopped for all of 10 seconds. Seeing them inevitably made me burst into tears. It really is such an emotional day!

During their wait they had seen the wheelchair race, the elite men and the elite women and even spotted my boss who runs marathons regularly (Who's best time is 2:23. Incredible). They also saw Stu who looked like he was having a great time! Here's a few pics:

Incredible wheelchair racers

Elite women

My boss zooming past- 966

Where are you Mummy?!

Ready for cheering

Stu going strong (but being beaten by Mr Tickle)

Matt then went on to mile 17 and the others went off for lunch and to play at a park. Very sensible. I quite fancied a spot of lunch too. However, I had a marathon to complete so on I plodded. Coming over Tower Bridge has to be one of the best moments of the day. It was still lovely and sunny, only 13 miles in and I was feeling pretty good. The crowd are amazing all the way round the course but particularly over the bridge. My friend Anneli was there to cheer me on but sadly I didn't see her. She apparently yelled my name though! The thing is, there are so many people cheering your name it's hard to know who shouted from where. It really is such an encouragement and boost. Utterly incredible to have so many strangers willing you on just because you've made the effort to attempt to run quite a long way.  There's also countless bands of musicians all the way round- steel bands, brass bands, drumming groups, rock bands and they really push you on. Especially the drummers. I reckon I'd have run a lot faster with them behind me all the way!

Things weren't going too badly until I hit about mile 17/18. At mile 18 I gave in and had a little walk, got my iphone out, checked the old facebook to read some of the messages from friends who, again, were so supportive and willing me on. Had a little cry (again) and popped my music on. I think this helped, sort of.

Saw Matt (and some more of our friends who'd dragged them and their two young daughters across the city just to give me a little cheer- lovely people!) again at mile 20. By mile 20 I was feeling pretty miserable. Everywhere hurt. I mean everywhere. Well, perhaps there was a small patch beside my right ear that was ok but pretty much everywhere else hurt. But not as much as it was going to.....

Here's me at mile 20:

Smiles for the cameras

Superwoman was pretty happy!

This is closer to how I really felt. Awful.

On my merry way again

From mile 22 it started to go badly wrong. The wind got up, the clouds drew in, it started to rain, the crowds thinned out and my knees decided they hated me. If you've read this blog before, you'll know that I've had a problem with my left ankle but never my knees. Well, let me set this record straight. Ankles, are a breeze. Knees, are mean to people they don't like and my knees had a serious falling out with me. With every step I tried run they just got more and more sore. I decided to power walk instead and a lovely onlooker shouted "Well done Lizzy, you're doing so well. You look really strong. Keep that powerwalk pace up until the end". I replied "I feel awful" and stomped off. Ha!

The last couple of miles are a complete blur. This is quite literal because by now it had started to absolutely pour down with torrential rain which was washing my hairspray into my eyes. Hairspray + rain + eyes = (blur + pain) x misery. Everyone had said that the last couple of miles fly past with the adrenaline and that the crowd carry you along. Not so if it's chucking it down, you can't see the sights of London (A. because of the dense rain, B. because hairspray really stings- did I already mention that?!) and the crowd decided to go home. Plus the fact that it was 5 and a half hours since the start means they were probably a bit tired and hungry by now. Can't blame them. Prince Harry had long gone (presumably back to his Nan's as it was only down the road). I attempted to run the last mile but I really have never known pain like it before and thought my legs might wobble away under me so walked it apart from the last 200 meters which I forced myself to jog. After all, it was my last ever run!

Post Marathon:

And then it was over. 26.2 miles completed. And did I feel elated? Thrilled? Overjoyed?

Nope.

I was cold, wet, couldn't see and had shooting pains in my arms with tingly fingers and legs that were more painful than I've ever known them. I cried when the nice lady put my medal round my neck (although that may have been the hairspray), collected my bag, shakily put my foil blanket around me and stumbled off in the direction of admirality arch to meet Matt who was thankfully armed with my waterproof jacket and a welcoming hug.

Andrew, another friend who ran/stumbled his way round yesterday, was also there and looking about as miserable as me. I took some solace in that!

Andrew and I quite literally hobbled off with Matt towards the bus stop. Then ensued a debacle with the bus driver. Unfortunately, Andrew and I had misread our marathon info and thought all travel on London transport was free for marathon runners. Turns out it's only free on the underground. Also turned out, that between the three of us we had exactly £1.23. The bus fare required was £2.30 each. Bummer. I genuinely thought we were going to have to get back off again and the thought of moving anywhere was enough to reduce me to yet more tears. Thankfully, a lovely lady, who we shall forever be indebted too, came to our rescue and paid for our bus tickets as a gesture towards our marathon efforts. What an angel. I have no idea what her name was but, kind lady with silver hair who gave us £3.50, you are truly wonderful- thank you.

Here's me on the bus:

Warm, dry, seated. Every reason to smile!

When we arrived back at the Salvation Army training college (where we'd been staying) we had the minor task of climbing off the bus, crossing the road, walking to the accomodation block and climbing two flights of stairs. I haven't laughed so much about being in so much pain ever before. It really was agony. Andrew and I limped our way along together like a pair of 90 year-olds that aren't fit enough for joint replacement surgery giggling like idiots. Definitely a case of laughing to not cry.

I'll zoom over the evening but it essentially involved a bath, clean clothes, a yummy dinner, a car journey home and a very stiff few steps to the front door and upstiars into bed.

This morning was time to inspect the injuries. I have bruising for no apparent reason over my calfs. I have knee joints that don't want to bend. I have feet that are really, really disgusting with the monster of all blisters. Really gross photo coming up (avert eyes if eating or of delicate disposition):

Ice packs for the knees of misery

MASSIVE blister. Ouch.

So that's it. It's all over. I've done it. I ran London Marathon.

This is some of what I wrote in my first ever blog:

Our best man and my husband's best ever friend died suddenly on February 25th this year. He was 38. Essentially, he died of a heart attack. At 38. And Mark was a fit, football crazy, golf mad, sport loving man who even worked for a sports organisation. We've been devastated by losing him.
It's wrong that young people die of heart disease. It's wrong that middle aged people die of heart disease. It's wrong that we don't understand enough about congenital heart conditions and premature onset of cardiovascular disease and so much more.

So......
I'm running the London Marathon in 2012 for British Heart Foundation in memory of the very wonderful Mark Versey.

You might think "Well that's lovely Lizzy, but what's the big deal? Loads of people run the London Marathon every year. 37, 000 of them to be precise."
Well, I can't run.

So this will be the blog of how a non-runner learns to run a marathon. Not because I enjoy running (I hate it) but because it seems appropriate that I do something that's a real challenge to celebrate the life of Mr Mark Versey and to raise vitally important funds for research into heart disease.

And that's exactly what I've done. Yesterday, after months of hideous training, I ran the London Marathon. To raise over £3000 for British Heart Foundation. To help little boys and girls with congenital heart defects, like Charlie. In memory and celebration of our friend Verz.

I am so, so grateful to you all for your support, cheers, encouragement, donations and prayers. I've needed them more than I imagined I would. And now it's over.

This was for you Mark.

Http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/longrunlizzy