London Marathon 2014
In many ways, London marathon didn’t go quite as I expected. I wanted to run 3:30 – 3:35. I finished in 4:19. I wanted to love it and come back year after year, but I finished not wanting to run London ever again. I wanted to qualify for Boston, instead I’ve fallen out of love with the idea of big city marathons.
In terms of my result, I don’t know what went wrong. I could say it was too hot, but I’ve run faster marathons on hotter days. I could say that injury interrupted my training and left me under prepared, but I’ve run faster marathons off less training. Or I could say that I went off too fast and paid for it later on, but I’ve run faster for longer in this build-up.
For the first three miles I ran with Cat and Cathy, two speedy runners who went on to have a great race. But by mile 5 I was seriously considering dropping out – something that has never happened to me in a marathon before and something that shouldn’t be happening at mile 5. I stopped at mile 7 when I saw Phil and as soon as I stopped running I felt dizzy and sick. He encouraged me on with some of my own advice: “If you’re finding it hard, just slow down.”
My mum and dad were waiting at mile 10. They’d made a banner and caught the early train down to the race. I couldn’t drop out before seeing them. So I started running again. Two pace groups had gone past me while I stopped and now I was stuck at a pace my legs didn’t want to run at. They wanted to run faster, even if the rest of me disagreed.
The crowds, enthusiastic in their support were, at times, overwhelming. On a good day, maybe they’d have spurred me on but I wanted the wall of sound to quieten down. But there was no respite.
I made it to my parents and their banner and stopped again. My mum offered me jelly babies which I tried to eat and then had to spit out because I felt sick. They told me they’d see me at mile 18, but I was sceptical that I’d make it that far.
Katie and Liz were my next stop at mile 12. Despite how I was feeling I was still smiling and waving, and they seemed confused when I stopped and shouted at me: “keep running.” They’d run 39 miles together the previous week, I couldn’t argue with them after just 12.
At the next corner we turned onto Tower Bridge – it’s a scene I’ve seen year after year on the TV and being part of it was like stepping into a film set. The crowd were loud and I looked around and tried to soak it in. I knew by this point that I didn’t want to run London again, so I’d made it my mission to finish it.
I saw Phil and my parents a couple more times in the second half. I ran into Anne Marie around mile 16 who was running London for the third time and who told me: “Yes, it’s always this busy” as elbows jabbed us from every angle and water bottles flew past our faces at drinks stops.
At mile 21 a kid handed me an ice pop and eating it kept me busy for a while. I ran a 8:47 mile – maybe there was nothing wrong with my legs and it was all in my head. Every time I stopped to walk or talk to one of my supporters a man called Dave, naked other than his running shoes and a blue thong, ran past me. The crowd went mad for Dave and his naked buttocks and became deafening, so I’d try to run away from him through the crowd.
I overtook and was overtaken by the guy trying to set the world record for the fastest marathon dribbling a football. Come on legs, I had to at least finish in front of him.
Every time I started running again there was no space to settle into a rhythm. People were walking three abreast and there was no way to avoid constant speeding up and slowing down.
At mile 22 the London City Hash House harriers had a beer stop. They handed me half a pint of warm beer which I downed to calls of “On on.” And on I went. Through the last tunnel where there was some respite from the crowds. Down the Embankment which I’ve run many lunchtimes over the years dreaming of the day I’d run it as part of this race. Past one of my running group who’d come to support me with her own sign. Past my colleagues with whom I’d cheered on runners from our cheer point for the past four years and, eventually, after a long day of running, over the finish line.
Yesterday wasn’t my day and London wasn’t my race. But there will be others. Thanks to my supporters, without whom I wouldn’t have made it past mile 5.
Sorry about yesterday. Feel similar actually, qualified at Manchester as you did (I’m not a stalker honest) and was so excited about London, Tower Bridge, Embankment etc. Enjoyed none of it. Yesterday thought “no more marathons for me”, today “maybe try again next year just to see if I can enjoy it more”! Anyway, you’ve got lots of good stuff under your belt and Ironman coming up. Good luck for that!
Oh, saw your mum’s banner on the way round!
Hey Laura,
Greetings for America! It has been awhile since I’ve commented…my thought after reading your post was that since the beginning, you have wanted to run the London Marathon. Perhaps it was so built up in your mind that it couldn’t possibly meet your expectations. Also, you have run some terrific smaller marathons, nothing huge like London. So, maybe you were doing the kind of events that you enjoy all along…you just didn’t know it until now.
Appreciate the journey, my friend.
Susan
The crowds really were overwhelming at times. I had a similar bad race. (Want a quiet empty green field in the rain next time!)
Yay for friends and family for power hugs that got many of us to the end.
Well done, on to the next one!
Hey Laura,
Just wanted to say I’ve been reading your blog and been inspired by it for a while. Sorry London didn’t go your way yesterday. I ran it too and I know what you mean about the crowds and sheer volume of people running being overwhelming at times, I definitely felt that too. It’s always humbling to realise that however much you train and however prepared you are, sometimes things just don’t work out on the day.
Well done for finishing, and good luck with the ironman training! I’ll look out for you at races in the future. Keep inspiring 🙂
Sorry to hear yesterday wasn’t your day Laura, everyone has had a bad day, be it training, racing or not even getting out at all. I’ve done 2 and they’ve both been crap, you’ve gone far beyond where you thought you would on your first ever run and helped many people achieve their goals. Who knows how many of yesterdays finishers visited your blog during their months of training, you’ve inspired many people to believe that beer & training can go hand in hand and should rightly feel proud. Looking forward to seeing you in Dublin in October, I’ve only entered once but I’ll get my bike out to support you on on your 2nd, 3rd and 4th lap.
Thank you! That’s lovely to hear!
I am so sorry to hear you didn’t enjoy yourself yesterday, but I do understand the frustration you’re going through – at mile 7 of the Oxford Half Marathon in 2012, I was on course for a PB until I felt as though I had ripped my ITB in half. I was devastated and had to limp the remaining 6 miles back in agony. I tried to throw my medal away, I was so disappointed. Almost 2 years on, I still wince at the memory, but I also think that having such an awful experience has made me stronger runner overall – at least in the months of physio that followed, I learned where I had made mistakes and better understand the power of rest! In my darkest race moments now, I think back to calling my mam in tears on the course and she asked me: “what would Paula do?” – you get into recovery and get back into it, that’s what you do 🙂
Hi Laura.
Sorry about your race. But as everyone has mentioned, some days are good, some not so good. Yesterday was the latter.
For me it was the former and I loved every step of every mile. The noise from the crowds kept me smiling the whole way round. If isn’t often you get tingles down your spine multiple times in a race.
So just chalk this down as a bad hair day no matter where the race was and get yourself signed up again and put those “London” demons back where they belong.
Oh, I also saw your family with their sign.
Some days it just isn’t your day. I was supposed to run 20 yesterday for my first marathon next month. At 10, feeling weak, dizzy and breathless I got in the car and drove home. If I’d had supporters and beer, maybe I could have made it all the way round.
Good luck for next time!
Pretty much everyone I know who ran it seemed to struggle yesterday. I had a great first half and then wildly faded in the second. Got slowed down round the narrow crowded sections at Isle of Dogs and never got my pace back. Gutted I missed the beer at mile 22, I was gasping for one!!
Hi Laura, I’ve been reading your blog for a while and, whilst I’m sorry you had a rubbish day yesterday, I must say I felt somewhat relieved to have a bit of solidarity in not really enjoying it. I felt tired from about mile 7 and ran/walked the second half, feeling irritated at the noisy crowds telling me I was ‘nearly there’, and then feeling extremely guilty about not being grateful for their support. Looking forward to escaping these sorts of events for some ultras soon. I remember you saying on marathon talk that you were glad you didn’t get in to London first time around because you might then have ticked it off your list and not done another, I hope this affirms that assertion. Onwards and upwards! I wish you all the best in your Ironman training and look forward to hearing about your future adventures.
Glad you had the support of friends and family to support you through the rough race. There will be better days! 😀
Laura you know we all love you and admire you for what you can do and what you can still go on to do. We will watch you, cheer you, make you laugh and make you cry but above all we are always here for you whatever happens at the “office” on that day.
Your gang of followers will shout you on, make you banners and buy you beer until you decide to give up on us as we will never give up on you.
I’m sorry to hear things didn’t turn out the way you hoped. Still, you finished, in spite of it all! That’s incredibly inspiring to me, especially on days when I feel like even my short runs are just too much.
I’ll echo everyone else and say that it clearly just wasn’t your day. There’s not much that feels lonelier than struggling through a marathon when it’s all going wrong and you just want to sit down and cry. The crowds for all their good intentions can just make it worse then (I almost punched the guy who came up to me to shout that ‘Pain is just weakness leaving the body’ at me as I limped through the last 8 miles of one marathon). Well done for sticking it out to the finish.
I felt exactly like this too. Feel like I buried last year’s demons from an awful race, but really found the crowds claustrophobic – would much rather be running through the countryside without anyone around. That said though, I love a big city marathon, so it might just have been the day. Massive well done though, lets go and drink beer sometime soon to celebrate!
Laura
I had a similar bad experience. I was aiming for 4:15 or less, perfectly paced and did first half in 2hrs exactly, then everything fell apart. And for no reason.
I had ran a 20mile race in Oakley in 3hrs a few weeks before. So figured I was in good shape.
I got severe chest pains after mile 13, had never happened to me before so had to walk a little which I had never done in any race and felt a bit deflated that I had to.
Although the crowds were great and the support I got from the Charity I was running for ‘Mind’ was fantastic. At times it was too loud and I just wanted some quiet time and have a bit of a whimper.
I finished in 4:29, which is 30mins slower than my PB. Although I wish my time was a bit better, after a bit of reflection, I have decided that it was a bad day at the office and in the grand scheme of things. I have just completed the best running event in the world.
I am looking forward to reading your book, after hearing you talk about it on Marathon Talk a while back, just have to finish a book about Mexican Drug Cartels first, diverse I know.
Good luck in your next adventure
Sometimes bad races just happen don’t they, don’t let it hang around, dust yourself off and carry on doing what you love. I did my first VLM last year, and said I wouldn’t do it again because of the crowds (both on and off the course), but of course I’ve changed my mind again now!
You did an amazing job to grind out a sub 4.30 when you felt bad from so early on, give yourself a huge oat on the back – that takes mental grit!
Sorry to hear that it was such a struggle, but on the plus side you must have huge mental strength to be able to go for 21 more miles when you wanted to stop so soon- no mean feat.
The crowds always look a bit crazy on the TV, and the sheer volume of runners is also a bit overwhelming I imagine.
I am really sorry to hear that you didn’t enjoy your day, but if nothing else you are an absolute HERO for making it across that finish line. That is sheer grit and determination! Well done!!
Hi Laura,
Massive well done on finishing despite what you were feeling in the race. That internal battle can be overwhelming in itself so it shows how strong you were to readjust your expectations and see it through to the end.
It’s funny seeing my own thoughts echoed in your post and in some of the comments above but in another way reassuring. I don’t know right now if I want to run London again but I’m wondering if it was my lack of training going into it.
I had achieved Good For Age and that was that, injury or no injury I was going to be at the start line. At 5 miles I hurt my ankle and I’m sure I hit multiple walls from about 10-19 miles. The urge to give up was overwhelming yesterday and I felt ungrateful that I didn’t get a lift from all the crowds or from the fact I was running in the city that I come from. However through all that I did finish and I’m really glad I didn’t give up. It’s partly through reading your blog and those of Simon Lamb, Cat, Cathy, Liz and so many others that I found something deep within to finish on Sunday. I continue to read inspiring stories week in and week out. The running blogging community is awesome!
Hey, even Mo thought he had a bad day so it can happen to anyone! But disappointment drives you on, and I have no doubt that you’re on the way to even bigger and better things (which I look forward to reading about)…
Sorry to hear you had an off day. I felt similar during the Manchester marathon, I really really hated it and questioned why the hell I was putting myself through it. After a few days I realized that it was obviously not my day, and I was proud of myself for pushing through and finishing despite not really feeling it. It takes serious mental strength to push through when your not feeling good, and you did awesome to get to the finish line- plus necking half a pint during a marathon-hero!
Hi lady,
Sorry it all went a bit awry but hey in the massive overview of all the running and achieving you’ll do in your life it’s just another pinch of the amazing 🙂 I had a completely different experience. I ran my first marathon at London on Sunday and I loved it even though I was sore and a bit hot at times. I was told by someone who underestimated me a few years ago that I’d never been a distance runner. He may never know I am but me knowing is enough. We get there don’t we and that’s what it’s all about. All the best for your next challenges. You’re an ace xxx
And you live to run another day. Sorry you didn’t have a great day. Next year you know what to expect. Don’t let one bad day ruin a race for you forever. I’m saying this to you as much as I’m saying it to myself. Well done on finishing in spite of how you felt along the way. You finished in front of everyone who didn’t carry on….
Hi Laura,
Sorry you had a bad race. I’ve been following your blog for a while and it very much motivated me to keep up the training in the run up to Sunday, so thank you! I am a slow coach and took a whole 5hrs 8mins, but I was expecting about 5 and a half hours so I was pretty chuffed with that. You can take credit for some of that 22minutes if that helps at all….I am also gutted that I missed the beer, I could definitely have done with that. Well done and good luck for your next adventures x
Nothing to add, really. You know it already.
Just thought I’d write a quick comment to say I’d stopped by (albeit a touch late) and that I enjoy your writing.
Hey!
I am sorry to hear that it didn’t go as expected! But don’t let this marathon demotivate you! You are a cool girl and keap on running!
Maybe you still want to reward yourself with something healthy, check out my new post!
You gonna love it !
Kepeon going girl, you are awesome!
xx Jennifer
http://www.lifting-fairy.blogspot.com
Laura, sorry to hear about your race,I have had a marathon like that.
I just discovered your blog and was amazed at how well you were doing, and wondered if you realized that when we improve every race one day its inevitable we will have a bad day and get humbled, especially at the distance like that.
Thanks again for your inspiring stories.
Just forgot to mention, that you really did a great job overcoming the pain-and sticking to it when the going gets tough.Anyone could finish a run when they get into a nice runners high and feel good for the entire distance-It takes serious guts to keep on going 20 more miles after you fall apart.