London Marathon, the last 7 miles!

So mile 19 hurt but I was prepared for a phase which would involve the gritting of teeth. I knew I wasn't injured, I'd felt the pain before and knew it wasn't real. I was taking on my gels and as much fluid as I could. Lets get this done.

Mile 20 I dig in and its back to 8.00 pace. I'm happy with that and keep digging. The sun is out and the temparature is rising. I'm feeling hot and need water. I take as much as I can but nearly throw up. So keep the bottle and decide to sip it carefully. Mile 21 is 8:48.

The pain is now pretty much excruciating. I normally feel the pain in my calves but today its the quads and thighs. They are in agony and every step is hurting. I keep my head down and dig in but I know its gone very slow.

I look up and see a guy dressed as Dangermouse go passed. Oh no, I have nothing in the tank and can't respond. This is going to be a disaster. The crowd are cheering for him. Nightmare.

The odd shout of "c'mon Kenny" is the last thing I want to hear. I am no longer in a good place and I don't need reminding! Shut up!

Everything is saying stop, walk, no one cares, why are you doing this? But I can't, no way, I'm not doing that. I start saying "believe, believe, believe". The dark thoughts go and then justice is done, Dangermouse is on the side with cramp! Mile 22 is 9:23.

I just keep turning the legs, determined not to walk, the pace is bad and I'm doing all sorts of calculations. 3:30 is on, 3:40 is certain, just don't walk. Mile 23 is 9:23.

Mile 24 and I know the family are near the end, I dig in. The sun is out, the crowd shout "c'mon Kenny, you're looking good!" Oh yeah? Give me a break!

I approach the end of 24 and looking along the length of the crowd I see our frind Mez! Then the family, Susan, the kids, Steve, Jonny & Jamie. They are cheering like mad, all smiles and beaming faces!

I got a fantastic rush from that. Then 100 yards further on I see Michael, Kate & Eva"C'mon Kenny".

I'm back, even if I look completely shattered! I start to engage with the crowd again and know I'm going to get through. Mile 24 is 9:01.

Right, here we go. Blackfriars Tunnel is a tough part of the course, Niall has warned me. 24 miles of cheering and now you descend below the road and railway lines, into the darkness, into the silence. I've been warned to ignore the casualties as people give up and drop out, be prepared for the silence, be prepared for a climb out of the tunnel.

I start my descent prepared. As I reach the bottom I see the end and the light. I'm nearly out and I'm waiting for the bad bit. There must be some mistake? That wasn't too bad.

I can see Big Ben. I know I'm nearly there but no counting my chickens. Mile 25 clicks over and its back in the 8's.

Now I need to keep going. But its really hard and Big Ben isn't getting any closer. The scene along the Embankment is like something out of "Saving Private Ryan". There are casualties everywhere. People on the side throwing up, people walking, stretchers, its a disaster. I'm chugging on. Up ahead its the 40km mark, we have to run across the mats so the timing chips clock us. I mentally tell myself to lift my feet, I could trip. Next thing the runner in front goes flying, does the trip I'd just thought about.

I keep going but the sun is out and Big Ben is being evasive. This is hard again. Finally make it and turn up passed Westminster and can see the gates into Birdcage walk. I'm nearly there.

Onto Birdcage Walk and its lined with supporters and trees, I'm in pain and just trying to maintain momentum. Mile 26 clicks, 8:45. Keep going.

I'm running next to the crowd when someone shouts "there's a ballet dancer ahead!" I look up, 20 yards ahead is a guy dressed in a pink tutu and a set of wings. He's doing a dead man shuffle, "you can catch him" shouts the crowd. I speed up and chase him down, the crowd are cheering and as I get passed they all woop! I'm shattered and then see the 800m to go sign. Oh no, but I know I can do that in 180 seconds. I start counting and keep going. I reach 180 and look up, there's the sign saying 400m to go. I nearly start crying. Where's the finish? My garmin says I've done 26.5miles, this is a joke. Where am I?

I keep going and eventually round a corner see the finish. It looks 400 metres away! This is a nightmare. I keep going, my fingers are tingling as no blood is reaching them, I'm oblivious to everything but manage to raise my arms in defiance. I didn't walk. I reach the finish, stop running and do the jelly legs walk. Done it. Final time 3:32:30.

I don't fall over but I'm out of it. I am moved along by the stewards, "here's your medal", "keep moving please", "go and get a photo taken", "collect your bag".

"Where are the Virgins?" I ask but no one knows.

I head to the meet and greet point. Dave's there. He says he's had a nightmare. His worst bit was when I guy dressed as a ballet dancer passed him on the finishing straight.

The London Marathon, ecstacy, pain, tears and in the end one of the funniest moments of the year. Done and I'm ready to sign up for next year. Team Tutu anyone?

Virgin London Marathon, the first 19 miles

So we're off. I'm at the front and have virtually a clear road. I'm on race pace within seconds. Wow.

The plan was easy first 5 miles, ease in, then find the zone and hope to stave off the wall until around mile 21/22. First 5 miles should be at 7:45/8:00 pace, anything faster and I'll regret it.

I'm tearing along and mile 1 is over, oh no, 7:24. Ok, calm down. I see a few guys jump into some toilets and I think what a good idea, I need to slow down. Next set of toilets and I jump in. Ok, I tell myself to slow down, calm down. Take it easy.

I join the race and finish mile 2, 7:19 and that included 30secs in the toilet. Oh Lord, what am I doing!

Mile 3 and I'm thinking right, slow down. It's downhill and I'm chatting away trying to get myself under control. It's over, 7:08. Oh no.

Mile 4, ok don't blow it. I'm chatting freely and feeling fine, not breathless not hurting. It's over, 6:58. Oh well. I've not done the slow start! I'm 3 minutes inside my plan and I've stopped for the toilet.

I know then I've blown it. This is going to hurt sooner than planned. Oh well in for a penny. I decide to just settle close to 7:30 and enjoy it while I can.

So being the quiet retiring type, I begin to engage with the crowd. High fiving anyone with a hand out, shouting back at any bloke that gives a cry of "Go Kenny" and blowing kisses to the ladies. I am in my element and lapping it up. So it goes on and on and on. It's amazing and I am smiling, enjoying the banter and chatting to fellow runners.

I look around and read a few of the messages on the back of people's shirts. Big mistake, I nearly start sobbing when I read of 5 year old children, 24 year old brothers, 46 year old dads, all gone too early and here are those left running their hearts out.

At mile 11 I start looking out for my good mate Andy. He's going to be around 11 or 12. Eventually I hear the cry of "Kenny" and make contact with Andy. I tell him I'm bang on and feeling good. It was awesome making contact with a friend rather than just the masses. The adrenalin rush is very real and I'm buzzing as we turn onto Tower Bridge.

The sight of the bridge is incredible, both sides are lined with people. Everyone's running on the right and then one guy skips through the barriers and piles down the left. I join him with one other guy. The crowd on that side go wild, we are in our element! 3 amigos!

I come off Tower Bridge and hit half way with the pace of the last 9 miles tight between 7:30 and 7:47. I'm happy with that. My garmin says 1:37 which is bang on my race plan. Is the dream alive?

We turn towards Docklands and as we are heading out we see the leading men heading our way, 7 or 8 miles ahead of us, running like the wind. We all just start applauding. It is phenomenal.

This is a messy part of the course, it gets hot, the sun comes out and its like being under a grill. The legs start to feel a bit heavy, nothing to worry about yet but ok I can feel them now. Miles 14 & 15 are 7:41 & 7:39.

Mile 16 and we're in a melly of tight roads and corners. The race becomes congested and we've slowed. I'm ok but we're at 8:00 and 8:04 for 16 & 17. Mile 18 and I know I'm heading for trouble, I've stopped engaging with the crowd and I am just thinking about my legs and what can I do to stave off the inevitable. Mile 18 is 8:10.

Mile 19 and I have hit the wall. The lactic acid has built up in my leg muscles. My heart rate has been too high and therefore less efficient at clearing the toxins. As the toxins build up it brings on the pain and fatigue as the muscles get less and less oxygen to keep them working effectively. I know all this is happening and just need to dig in. The gritting of teeth phase is going to be 7 miles long.

I hear a cry of "Kenny!" Sounds familiar, I look up, raise a hand but don't recognise the guy and I'm struggling too much to look at his mates. That was a mistake, Andy had made the journey from 12 to 19 to cheer me on and he was in the group. He sent a text to Susan, "Just seen Kenny at 19, he's puffing hard!" That was kind, I was on the way down. Where was the guy who'd been high fiving, blowing kisses, shouting back at the crowd. Mile 19 was 8:40. The slide was on.

Virgin London Marathon, Pre Race

This was it. Race day. 1000 miles in training, too many blogs to mention, over 60 sponsors, a newspaper article, a news piece at National Grid and a target time of 3:15. No pressure then!


The weather had been dominated by a high pressure in the south of England which has meant cold bright mornings that got warmer as the day went on. The forecast was for a boiling hot day.


This morning however it's warm and muggy. Oh dear. Humidity? We haven't had that since last October. I think it could be bad.

Breakfast at 0615 is cornflakes, coffee and toast. I'm force feeding myself because I know I'll need the energy later. Toilet stop before I head to meet Dave for the 0647 train to London Bridge.


The banter is good. The train is full of very nervous runners. Training done, no going back now. Everyone is perplexed with the weather. What's going to happen.


At London Bridge Dave and I go our separate ways, he's off to the Blue Start with the elite. I'm off to the Red Start with the pineapples, bananas and a few Darth Vaders.


On the train to Greenwich I talk to a guy called Rupert. He's not run for a while but done lots of gym work. On a cross trainer apparently. Man alive, how did this guy get a place? He's not done any running. I overhear a guy telling how he's lost 8 stone since Christmas - good lad. I then spot Darth Vader II telling a few Storm Troopers to pull themselves together. Mmm I wonder if the Blue Start is this interesting!


At Greenwich its mayhem. Red Bull are dishing out freebies. People are everywhere. All shapes and sizes. Everyone on the way to the start zone.


I arrive and find the loos. Good idea to go straight there. I join a queue 5 people long, I'm waiting 30 seconds. I come out and the queue is 15 long. 5 minutes later and they are 40-50 people long and growing!


I settle down on the grass. 1hr 15mins to race start so no need to get too excited. I sit back, sip my Lucozade sport, eat a carb bar and watch the sights.


At about 0845 it starts to rain. Just a little at first, then the heavens open. I am prepared, standard issue bin-liner is in my bag. I get the old jumper on too and I'm happy, warm and dry. I decide to ditch my bag at the baggage truck and head to my starting pen. I'm in zone 1, which is bang at the front. I get down there and everyone is hiding under the trees freezing.


I hang about before ditching the gear and heading to the very front of the pen. I'm bang in the middle staring at the stewards and the back of Jonathon Edward's head. I'm in nap position. I begin thinking "blow race pace, if I'm at the front I'm going to go like the clappers and get in the lead! I am going to sprint the first 400 yards!!" I've done it before but this is the biggy! Niall will be proud.

Before we get going the weather changes again! Now its stopped raining and is warming up and its humid. Oh dear, what's this all about? We look at each other wondering why we're sweating and we haven't started.


Eventually they walk us out of the park and round the corner to the start-line proper. Disaster, about 200 people are already there. It's the "good for age" bunch and they are uber fast. So my moment of glory is not going to happen!


We are held up for a few seconds and then with no major countdown we're off. No going back now. Ok, what was my race plan again?