Ape-ril

[marathondan]

5. Champion chimp

A little piece of me broke inside the first time I took a walk break, and there's not much of me left now. It's all surreal. I don't know how I got here, why I'm here, how I made it this far, or why I tried to do this again when it's so hard. Yet... I feel the worst is over. All the day's jobs are ticked off the list, the final milestone now is the big one, the finish. I've long ago made peace with the humid horror of the mask, now I just happen to be running in a sauna. And suddenly I feel OK. The crowds, the jelly babies, my supporters, I can do this. With the slower pace, there's no stress on my hamstrings or calves (or that Achilles tendon - remember him?), it's just all going through my quads, and I can manage that by rolling my feet.

So I gradually speed up, where is that 800m marker, at 800m I'll drop the hammer, or the best I can do at this stage. There it is, here we go... it looks like a long way to the 600m marker! How does the clock look... 4:43 something? That's quite slow, with my early miles below 10:30 pace, I thought I'd be faster than that. I think I've missed a monkey PB. Hang on, Garmin says I've done more than 26.2 already. Of course, I can't rely on Garmin pace for finish time because my route is longer than 26.2 miles. Anyway, back to the chase. I'm reeling them in left and right, this is the strongest I've ever finished a marathon. Into the Mall, surely there will be a commentator mentioning the monkey tearing down the home straight? Instead, there's a Tardis on the big screen and they're playing the Doctor Who theme. Never mind. The journey is nearly over. It's wonderful to be able to open up and not worry about pulling something in the last yards. The monkey has never run like this before. And there it is. Red mats, stop running, stop the watch with ape fingers. I can walk, and I never need to run again.

I keep the mask on so that Gus can receive his medal in person and get an official photo. Then off it comes, and the sensation of fresh air is amazing. Off come the gloves; my hands look like I've been in the bath for four hours. Goody bag, baggage drop, trudge through Horseguards, kitbag string cutting into my shoulder, and off to the Scope reception on Whitehall - a much better option than the alphabetical meet and greet, if you're lucky enough to have it on offer. Family and friends met and hugs exchanged, we pop our heads in. Drinks and massages are on offer, but we opt to keep moving and head for home. Charing Cross is packed to the point of standstill, but if we've all learned one thing today - runners or supporters - it's patience. We wait our turn and are slowly and gradually rewarded with seats on the tube. I finally strip off the remains of the costume on Paddington concourse. Before we know it we're back in our home town, in time for a family-sized Chinese and a restorative light ale. Another adventure is over.

.......................

Back home, Garmin says that I ran 26.78 miles. I hadn't twigged beforehand that this would mess up my pacing, because a "race" mile isn't the same as a satellite mile.

The last 0.78 was done at 9:42 min/mile, my fastest segment by a long margin.