The London Marathon 2009

At 9.49pm on Saturday night a good friend texted me to say good luck and remind me of the words of one Winston Churchill, ‘If you’re going through hell, keep going’. Inspiring stuff, although my favourite Churchill is ‘Never ever, ever, ever, ever, give up.’

The world's healthiest festival site

Sunday morning in Greenwich park and such thoughts are far away as we enjoy the ‘world’s healthiest festival site’, in the words of my running mate, of fancy dress costumes, flags and banners, and music. Photos with Team Go at the NSPCC and a video interview for their promotional DVDs, quick loo breaks, lathering up in sun tan lotion in light of the ridiculous sun; which would become a mainstay of the day.

Slowly we take our place on the line, chatting to a nice chap named Matthew from Warwick University who was going for 3hrs anything (I hope he made it) we await the start. The 9 minute miler pacer turns up and all eyes turn to him; like a god among men people flock to him, aiming to follow him for their 3.54 time.

The hooter sounds and we funnel towards the start and, here’s the line…we’re off and running, literally. No walking, straight into the running. The crowds are thin but friendly and the only bad thought is, ‘that sun is quite hot…’

Bands play, people cheer us on, a vicar blesses passing runners (it burns, it burns!) and the first ‘go on Dan’ cheers start. This is great! Soon we merge with the blue runners. The booing commences, who knows why, but quickly subsides, and we’re all together. Away into the distance stretch the runners. All bobbing up and down creating the effect of waves on the shore on a choppy sea.

We're on TV!

We head past the Greenwich Naval College – an amazing building – and manage to get on TV. As Matt Baker (him off Blue Peter) pulls aside a man in a devil costume, we wave inanely at the TV and, checking later on the iPlayer, yes there we are! Around the charred body of the Cutty Sark the crowds swell and the cheering increases. For another 3 miles the crowds are just amazing. Music and bands, sweets and biscuits, high-fives, name cheering, all just inspiring stuff.

Mile 8 and I spot my work colleague who gets a good picture (click) and gives me a nice buzz. Up to 10 and my running mate decides to stop for a quick break; we agree to split, I wanting to push through the slight twinge in my stomach, knowing the second wind will kick in soon.

Mile 12 and the realization Tower Bridge is close by brings in that second wind, and running over the bridge I remind myself to admire the sight of the bridge, the crowds, and soak up the cooling breeze of the Thames. The sun is still beating down, and although cloud cover is intermittent, it doesn’t help.

Half-way

Over the bridge and half way in 2.07. Off target for a sub 4hr run but given the heat I’ve already decided it’s not worth pushing too hard. Round to 14 and the best bit of the race – see my parents (who pass me the much reminded about Snickers bar) and a huge NSPCC cheer point – who cheer me like a world champion, and I run on feeling fed and loved. Only 12 miles to go!

On down Narrow Street (very narrow it is too) I spot Michelle Collins cheering people on, and start to overtake the people around me. Realising I’m being foolhardy, I rein it in and ease up, telling myself to slow down. Into Canary Wharf and the crowds show no signs of easing up (amazing!) and I take the opportunity to run through another fine mist shower system. Still so, so hot. In fact I have now seen several people being treated on the side of the road and it’s a good reminder to run sensibly.

Through the financial center I pass Kate Lawler who won Big Brother 3, and start to feel the pain. Just 6 miles to go and we’re going past Billingsgate market, very hot, very bland, very hard. Hamstrings getting tight now. Push on. If you’re going through hell, keep going.

Ah, yes, pain. Hello.

21 miles – only 5.2 to go. Only, ha. I don’t hit the wall here but I do realise my hamstrings are now hurting and there’s nothing I can do about it. Never, ever, ever, ever, ever give up. Just put one leg in front of the other and keep going. Nothing lasts forever.

23 miles and the crowds are huge. But, I’ll be honest, they’re doing nothing for me. This is an internal battle now. The pain v me. I will win. One leg in front of the other. Running through the last shower station makes me shiver, making me realise how low my energy reserves must be, despite the heat of the sun. Out of embankment tunnel I spy Big Ben – so close but so far…

Here I manage to miss my parents and and most friends, although see a few of them, as I internalise everything. Every cheer of ‘Come on Dan!’ is met with a ‘you bloody do it then!’ in my mind only of course.

Turning at Westminster. So tired. Someone shouts. 1km to go. Never, ever, ever, ever give up. I’ve run so many kilometers in this last 6 months, what’s one more? The photographers appear – what? Who placed them there! Force a smile. Just 600m to go. What, where was 800m? So glad to have missed it!

Then 400 to go. Then 385 yards. The turn on the Mall is blessed relief. I shout out ‘ohhhhhhhhhhhhh’ in a form of release to the pain and the joy the sight brings. For no reason I sprint to shave pointless seconds off my time and run with my arms aloft. Once over I put them down and acknowledge my legs’ calls for rest and stretching.

The end?

Utterly dazed and confused I take my medal, my bag, and find a place to lie down in St James’ Park. I’ve just run the London Marathon in 4.22.01. A few loo stops in there but who cares. In that heat I’m very pleased.

Today, Tuesday, and I feel strange. My legs are getting better and people are all very interested and quizzical but I just feel the same. I don’t feel like a hero or that I’ve done something life changing, or affirming, or anything. I don’t know. Perhaps I anticipated feeling like that when really not everyone will. Perhaps it’s too soon to know. I raised £1,901 for charity which is amazing and this makes me feel better than the idea of doing the run itself. Am I alone in having this almost post-marathon depression?

The big question is of course, will I enter next years? Maybe. It’s a commitment for sure, but it would be nice to go sub 4hrs…

Sprint finish

So here we are, just five days away from the London Marathon. It's been a hell of a journey.

I can vividly recall when I agreed to do it:

Int Shot: Two lazy people playing Pro Evo, a phone rings, I answer:

'Hello.'
'Hi Dan it's Will. Do you want to run the marathon next year? '(his voice intones 'this is just a token gesture, I don't expect you to say yes').
'Urm, yeah okay, why the hell not!'

A pause

'You do?'
'Yeah, do you have a place or something?'
'Er, yes, we can get places with the NSPCC.'
'Great, yep sign me up.'
'Oh...okay...'

Phone call ends.

Then four months later on a crisp September morning we set off on our first run. A full 800 meters around the block. We return exhausted, glistening with sweat, and having just been chastised by an old lady who said, 'come on keep going' as we laboured past her. (Where are you now O Mystic Wise Woman?)

Then it was, 'Did 20 minutes tonight and don't feel like I'm going to die. This is fun.' And on it went, 25 minutes, 35, 45, an hour! Then a 10k race at Finsbury Park (Time = 47mins 14 seconds), then another 10k back home in Cornwall - which became the basis for my first ever article on running - and was another 47 minutes, although on a very hilly course.

From here training intensified - 12 miles in 1hr 55 minutes felt like the end of the world, then I did a half-marathon in Watford - a lovely rolling, countryside course, and a sprint finish over the last 3 miles, passing hundreds of runners - a perfectly paced race and one of the best running moments to date.

Onwards! A 14 miler in the freezing rain, under-nourished, cursing every individual drop of rain that fell, but really knowing it was our own fault for not having prepared properly before going out - lesson learned, this is now a serious challenge and requires pre-run and post-run commitments. Fridge now forever stocked with sport drinks and cupboards bursting with Jelly Babies.

Then 16 miles, then a half-marathon at Silverstone. Race plan slightly off - too fast for 10 miles, although feel fine, then slow considerably over last three, to finish in a good time of 1.42, but think it would have been better if I had saved fuel for the end, rather than fading - another lesson learnt; the end if the hard part, not the start.

Then 18 miles - feel drunk on exhaustion come the end, but do realise we are running past the American Presidential house in Regent's Park and so next weeks 19.7 miler - a lot of hills on these runs too - sees us watching with interest as the police head hither and thither erecting anti-terrorist barriers and helicopters hover overhead. We carry on running, enjoying glimpses into London Zoo.

Then suddenly it's all over. Twenty miles is done and we've recovered. Now what? Now a party - to raise funds you see - and then that's it. A couple of eight milers ('nothing really', say the two runners who six months ago almost collapsed running 800m) and now we find ourselves simply counting down days, eating pasta dish after pasta dish, preparing for probably the hardest, but most anticipated challenge of a lifetime.

There's a lot I've left out too - the mid week evening runs over to Alexandra Palace with its stunning views of the city, the training day held by the NSPCC in January, the fantastic people I've met in the virtual world of Twitter who are also running the marathon, the strange sense that I'm actually rather enjoying all this running, the books I've read, the magazines, the times I've been on the JustGiving website the strange quirks of the body - give me Jelly Babies! - and the genuine buzz I've felt from raising over £1,500 for charityand the kindness of people in donating (especially in this credit crunch).

So - that's it. Sunday, 9.45am, 26.2 miles - what's left to say? Bring it on.

Free from running (sort of)

Another running post here - less than two weeks until the London Marathon now though so it's to be expected. Ran a nice nine miles in Cornwall on Sunday with a friend (who completed the Rome Marathon about two weeks ago in 4.19) around the highways and byways of the county which was very pleasant. A different experience to London that's for sure.

The tapering off period is bloody ace. My legs are fully recovered and feel good, and with just one run left - some sprint training penciled in (mentally) for tomorrow night - it will then just be a sit-back-and-relax until the big day, eating copious amounts of pasta and trying to get fund-raising heading towards the mythical £1,800. As you can see from the JustGiving widget on the side I'm inches short of £1,400 (feel free to push me over if thou wishest too).

Run on

My first ever article on running was published in Cornwall Today this month - I'm very pleased with it and I hope to write more about running in the future.

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What I think about when I run

I finished reading "What I talk about when I talk about running" by Haruki Murakami last night. It's an interesting book, one that muses on writing, running, the weather and a few other things besides. I enjoyed it a lot, although found it never quite decided if it was more focused on running or writing primarily so just as he got started on one track he moved on to another, leaving you wanting a little more of either - perhaps this though is what makes Murakami so popular.

It made me think (it happens) about what I think about when I run. To be honest most of the time I run with my running mate Sarah Palin, I mean Will, and we talk about many things. This week we even played the 'Alphabet Game' (where you take it in turns to list subjects, alphabetically) for footballers / countries / capital cities / things to do with running (example L = Lucozade, Z = zoom), to help us on the four mile hill climb we had to do - it did help.

When I do run on my own though I tend to think about very little. Mostly it's "better step off the pavement here to avoid that dog" or, "right now for a burst of speed...now ease up", but it's rare that you ever have profound, philosophical monologues that lead to a sudden realisation as people might imagine. Zen running is a term I've read but I presume it refers to this notion that you empty your mind of thought, not because you suddenly achieve great wisdom. If you do think about anything concrete and non-running related it's more likely to be, "Oh, I am looking forward to some mashed potato tonight".

However, when I did the Silverstone Half-Marathon, in which I tried my hardest to get to sub 1:45 and maybe even 1:39 (I did 1:42 dead), I spent almost their entire race multiplying eights. "If I run the next four miles in 8 minute miles, then the last mile in 9 minutes, I'll finish in 1:41, so if I run the next three miles in 8 minutes miles that makes 24 minutes, so then I need to..." and so on. Endlessly repeating this every mile or even 1/2 mile where I assumed those to be.

This links nicely back to Murakami. At the very start of the book he says much the same thing. Often he thinks about nothing. Sometimes though he thinks about certain mantras that he repeats to help him run. One he mentions later in the book is "Just think about the next three meters". The other he writes about, right at the start of the book is, "Pain is inevitable. Suffering is temporary." I like this one a lot. It's true. If you're going to run 26.2 miles you'd be foolish to expect to come through without some pain. The difference is - do you let the pain control you, or do you take that pain and treat it with contempt and push through and finish and hopefully finish strongly?

I did Ten Tors 45 miles when I was 17: it was very hard. You had to walk 22.5 miles a day, for two days, over Dartmoor (very tough terrain), camp wild overnight, and finish by 5pm on Sunday. The team I was in with schoolmates made it home with an hour to spare and as a complete team - something that is hard to do as often people drop out or get injuries. One of the reasons we did so was because, as we set off surrounded by 2,000 others, we saw a T-shirt with the slogan "Pain is temporary. Pride is Permanent" on the back and remembered it as motivation to keep us going, despite the incessant, bitter rain that fell on us as we stumbled across a bog, about four miles behind schedule, on the first day.

That mantra sums up so much of events like that and marathons. It's perhaps one of the reasons people often agree to run marathons again, only hours after crossing the finishing line and swearing "never again!", as, famously, Steve Redgrave did: "If you see me get in another boat, you have my permission to shoot me!"

So to conclude: What was I talking about? I don't even know - I guess that's what Murakami was saying. When you run your mind jumps about: sometimes snatches of relevant, book worthy thoughts come to you, or mantras repeat in your mind when you need to push through pain barriers, but mostly you look at clouds, watch out for dogs, or think, as I will tonight: "oh I can't wait for that mashed potato."

Why I haven't seen The Wire (yet)

Everyone agrees that The Wire is The best Show Ever Made™.

I haven't seen it. I haven't seen it despite knowing a keen Guardian promoter of The Wire for three years. Despite having access to illegal streaming of it online, despite it being on Virgin's amazing On Demand service. And now, as it starts on BBC2, I still won't be watching it.

The reason is simple really. Time. Finding the time to commit properly to a show that everyone, everyone, has said is the most layered, in-depth, detailed, realistic show ever made means the idea of watching a poor quality downloaded version on suspect stream websites is not for me. The On Demand service means I have to find an hour a day to have the front room to myself to watch it while the BBC's screening starts at 11.20 and finishes at 12.20 - far too late! Plus it runs every night of the week - what if you miss a night?

So really my reasons are not because I don't want to watch the show, but because I want to appreciate at it for the genius it must be, by watching it at leisure, and really taking in every aspect of the show. I've always watched shows like this. Arrested Development, Seinfeld, Lost, Band of Brothers and so forth. I want to do the same with The Wire (and Mad Men, and Battlestar Galactica but that's another issue again), but unless I can get the perfect conditions, I don't want to start.

Perhaps this is stupid though. One thing I've learnt from my marathon training (yes I've really learnt a "life lesson" from the training) is that there is no such thing as a 'perfect time'. Running has to be done whether it's raining, snowing, is windy or the sun is blazing. The perfect time is now. So maybe I should just bite the bullet and watch the first episode and go from there. Or maybe I'll wait until...

Over the hill

So, yesterday, 19.7 miles. Nineteen point seven miles. Let's just let that sink in shall we?

I remember back in October when six miles was deemed a success. I remember in January when 11.6 miles was impressive. Now, such distances seem luxurious, a mere stroll in the park. Not only was it our longest run, it is also the last long run we will do before the big day. We now enter Taper Time. This is, to the uninitiated among you, the period when you decrease your training before the big day so your muscles recover some sufficient strength and you are nicely fresh for the big day.

I can see now why they tell you to do this. After just one hour yesterday my muscles felt tired and ached, not from the one hour of running, but from the accumulation of so many miles in the last three weeks, which, roughly, has been about 60/70 miles. Not only this but the running route we follow to build up these miles is forever up or downhill, especially up on the return. This means at 1:40, as you're reaching around half way, you're faced with four miles of continuous uphill. This is hard.

However, this week, unlike last, although on finishing my legs ached with an intensity I've never quite felt before, the state of tiredness and pain that such a distance created wasn't as disorientating or strange as last week, when I felt something akin to waking up at 5am after a heavy night of drinking that ended at 3am, and being in a state of semi-consciousness and semi-trance.

Still though, the fact this is the training zenith, and from here it's all an ease off before the big day, is a big psychological boost. Not only this fund-raising has passed £1,200 which really is a big motivation to push on through. On the big day let's hope the crowds, the preparation, the weather, the food intake and, most importantly, the legs, all converge to create perfect conditions for running my first ever marathon and I can smash the four hour mark and get as close to 3.30 as is possible.

But, ultimately, it's all about getting around, and if that means nine-minute miles for 24 miles before a mad dash (read: hobble) down Birdcage Walk and The Mall to sneak in at 4 hours, so be it.

You can always rely on the kindness of strangers

When I first started my fundraising for the London Marathon I thought hard about who I could target for some sponsorship - friends, family, work people, and...well that's it. Ah, but of course, this is the 21st century - I had the entire internet out there to use.

Since those heady day of September 2008 when the Credit Crunch was a funny "and finally" story in the news, I have managed to raise £1,100 for the NSPCC. A charity which, in this six month period, has been proven to be, sadly, still vital in today's society.

Of this £1,100 a total of £55 has come due to online connections: A fiver from @jojo_wood via Twitter, £10 from @danieltwigg through Twitter/ work connections, £20 from the owner of blog site Five-Centers (a blog worth adding to your Netvibes or, if you insist on helping out small struggling companies, Google Reader) and, through some networking on Twitter, £20 by 'offering' to be interviewed for the JustGiving website.

As Marge and the cast sing in The Simpson's episode A Streetcar Named Marge...a stranger's just a friend you haven't metttttttttttttt.' Well you get the picture.

But it proves the internet, far from aiding and abetting the 'death of conversation' or cutting people off as the naysayers would claim, actually brings people together, gets them talking, engaging and helping one another, far more than ever before.

Marathon stories

So as you may have noticed from some previous posts, and the pictures on the right hand side, and the sponsorship widget too, I am in training to run the London Marathon. Today I was the featured runner on the JustGiving website's Your Stories section - click here to read it.

The Marathon Magazine was sent to all runners taking part recently, including their race day numbers (sadly my hope for a palindromic number like 41114 didn't materalise; the best number would be 11111, but I digress) featured an article on tapering off and why in the last week before the marathon you should do nothing. In capital letters, with an exclamation mark at the end, there was this brilliant typo on why this is so:

"YOU CANNOT GET ANY FITTER NOR LOOSE ANY FITNESS!"

An 18 mile run

So yesterday was the second longest run in the build up the London Marathon, 18 miles in three hours...well two hours 53 minutes to be exact. Another hot day meant an early start was required so we were out the house by 10.30 which made a nice change from lazing around until 2pm, mooching in the house, followed by a 'shall we go then?', 'I guess so.'

For about two hours there was little aching or pain, even after last weeks 13.1 mile blitz around Silverstone. Then we were met with the steepest hill on our run, badly positioned by the earth's construction over billions of years, which really tested our legs' endurance, and after conquering the hill and another mile we finally relented to their cries of , 'enough!', so we walked home for about 500m, to stretch the legs out.

It was quite uncomfortable at the end and was certainly the most I've 'felt' a run in my actual muscles, rather than 'in' the legs, which is what I had last weekend. Some pasta, lucozade and chocolate though soon had the energy levels topped up. Even to take in some bowling action (twinging the thighs nicely) in the evening.

We finally saw the Freud statue in Swiss Cottage area too.

Silverstone half-marathon

To Silverstone race course on Sunday for a half-marathon around the straights and hairpin bends of the track, reaching speeds of 220mph on the long straights.

It was an odd race, very hot in places, windy in others, on a very disconcerting track that wound its way here, there and everywhere. Often you could see runners both in front of you and behind you on different sections of the course, which was odd when trying to gauge where you were in the race.

I managed to run sub eight minute miles for 10 miles before my legs gave out on me and so I merely jogged to the end, probably around 8.30 - 9.30 miles, which brought me on 1hr 42 minutes dead. I was on for 1.39 at about mile 10 but didn't feel it was worth the risk to push myself overly hard and am pleased to have taken off seven minutes and 19 seconds from my Watford half-marathon time.

My target time of 3hr 30m for the London Marathon seems maybe a touch ambitious now, as running eight minute miles for 26.2 miles seems a tad too much given how my legs felt at 13.1 miles yesterday. Perhaps I should just settle for sub four hours. However, quite a few people commentated that the crowds will keep you going a lot longer in London. The crowds at Silverstone were good, but not
amazing, a bit quiet in places.

Under six weeks to go now too which means two more long runs, one of 16 miles, one of 18-20, and then tapering down to 15, 10 and maybe one eight, before a two week kick back just waiting for race day. Bring it on.


Me and Mr Will Dean celebrate the successful completion of Mr Half Marathon.

Utterly shameless, completely Worthwhile

You knew this day was coming - the signs have been there for a while now, the way little images have gone up on the side of the page, then the widgit showing my progress, the occassional post asking quietly at the bottom, but now the stealth is over. Yes, like one of those infuriating ad campaigns that spend weeks causing you to ask, 'what the hell is this about?', I can now confirm this is the begging blog post, asking for donantions to my marathon fundraising page.

I've seen you visiting this page - through my statcounter - coming from your netvibe accounts, googling my name, wondering what random thoughts have fluttered through my brain and onto this page - and now I'm calling a favour. I want you(!) for Marathon Donations.

It's easy - you go here, you fill in some forms, you pick a random amount to sponsor me, and you feel warm and fuzzy inside, while on the big day itself, know you've done your bit, as I pound the streets of London. We all win.

This weekend I'm off to Silverstone (nnnnnnnneeeeeeeeoung....(( the sound of F1 car going past really fast, obviously)) - so any donations received before then will give me that extra push to get me around sub 1.45!

There's plenty more information on the JustGiving page about my training, why you should sponsor me, and so forth - but if you are a regular reader of this blog, or a random who has a couple of quid burning a hole in their (online) pocket, please, spend two minutes clicking and typing to donate to my page.

Above, finishing a 10K in Cornwall in 47m 14 seconds, in 42 from 217.

More marathon related news

I recently featured on the Justgiving website with some of my 'top fundraising tips' and will, at a future date, be the subject to a short Q&A on why I want to run the marathon and so on. I'll link to it when it's live. Please sponsor me if you can! Use the fancy widgit on the right hand side at the top to do so!

Born to run / Keep on the running / Run DMC

Yes, running etc. This morning I braved the freezing winds of the northern ice lands of Watford to take part in the annual half-marathon along this course. This is all part of my training for the London marathon and it was the longest distance I've run since training started. I managed to finish in 1:49 15 which I was very pleased with: Results are now up: came 1080th from 1958. Which is pleasing.

Over the last mile it snowed which made it feel all dramatic and epic like, but it didn't last very long: the snow I mean. The goodie bag only had one piece of food in it, which was a bit poor, but we did get a nice tee shirt and a bottle of Gatorade, which I discovered on the way round, is much better than water for giving you some extra energy. Also, trying to take a small paper cup from someone and drink it while you run is difficult: it's a skill in itself.

It was a nice route, out among the the fields and hills of outer London, into the countryside, and over the M25 and with round 2,000 runners taking part you were surrounded by fellow runners, all puffing and wheezing away, which was great for keeping you going.

Anyways, if you've read this far, and know me / have money / do charity / are an eccentric millionaire it would be wonderful if you could sponsor me on my way to this goal of running the marathon and raising £1,800 for the NSPCC. You only have to click here and fill in a few forms.

Go on, you know you want to.

This is a cool website: write your own bus slogan, here's mine: