Ape-ril

[marathondan]

2. Monkey magic

And so we were off. I didn't really notice the gun, but sensed that the crowd was gradually moving forward, so we must have started. As predicted, I crossed the line at almost bang on 10 minutes. The task now was to remember how to run in this thing, and to make sure I kept my pace down. This was my first marathon with a Garmin, so pacing was easier than usual. The plan was to go out at somewhere between 10:30 and 11:00 miling, and see how we go.

In cool conditions like this, the mask isn't so much hot as just uncomfortable. The mixture of sweat and breath soon makes the thing damp and clammy inside, and you begin to pine for feeling the wind in your... well, head, in my case. It took about an hour for me to really get used to the feeling. The same goes for the oversized rubber hands. Sweat pools in the fingers and then runs down when you lift your arm.

The early stages are sparsely spectated - well-wishers who've come all the way out east, and local residents enjoying early tipples under gazebos. I was already enjoying the attention of the supporters though, responding with a wave, a fist pump or occasionally a chest beat. The greetings from the crowd were many and varied - from parents pointing me out to their small children, through excited shouts of "gorilla!" or "monkey!", to guttural roars and the occasional "ooh ooh ooh". My favourites over the day were being called "Scope monkey", and a guy with a megaphone breaking into "In The Air Tonight".

The early stages felt very relaxed indeed. The temptation in such events to nip into gaps and burn out early is well documented, but I didn't feel the route was overly crowded - maybe an advantage of starting a bit further back. Any time I did encounter a blocked path, caution was the watchword, and I just dropped off the pace gently until things opened up again.

As we neared Cutty Sark, the crowds grew deeper and louder and it felt like we were really in the London Marathon. There were occasional bands, drummers and pub singers now. I always like to applaud these, and this time I had the additional opportunity of doing a little dance each time. There were three sets of friends in the crowd, plus family at mile 25, as well as the Scope stands, and the famous JDRF bellowers of this parish. Working out where each of these would be provided a welcome distraction.

I spotted my first supporters at after Cutty Sark and stopped for high fives. One benefit of not running a serious race is that you don't worry about taking a few seconds to say hello. And so we went on. Pace was a little faster than planned, but of course it's impossible to resist trying to keep a little in hand. The Garmin - set for automatic lap counting every mile - gradually became more and more out of step with the mile markers, as I was clearly not following the blue line all the time. I popped a jelly baby every mile. From time to time I stopped at a water station and got a volunteer to top me up with three bottles of water.