Watching the London Marathon for me is an incredibly emotional event and yesterdays was no different. It was the very first one in 1981 that inspired me to take on challenges, I’ve never yet secured a place at London and my running days are quite probably well behind me but today I was reminded of the very first Marathon I ran. It was in Huntingdon (my home town at the time) and it was that same year 1981. I didn’t carry a lot of weight in those days, apart from all that hair but I’ve never really had the knees for running as this picture shows.
The pictures from yesterday of the camaraderie were
spectacular. So back to the challenge in hand, Poole to Paris, I’m still under the weather with man flu so still sadly lacking in saddle time but I have given some thought to the preparation, what kit and spares to take all that’s really left now is to get on the bike. This picture also reminds me that I don’t have a great history of preparing, preferring in many ways to fly by the seat of my pants, doing just enough but not necessarily over preparing, although I’ve learnt he hard way that sometimes it pays to put in the miles. For instance on that first marathon, the longest training run I ever did was around 13 miles when all the seasoned runners tell you that you should do plenty more than that. My tactic came home to roost when I confronted the infamous runners wall (surprisingly) at around 13 miles when I really felt I couldn’t go on. Sadly on the Huntingdon course in those days that 13 mile mark was the most lonely isolated part of the course going through “the Thicket” at Hemingford and it was particularly bereft of encouraging crowds making it all too easy to slow the pace. So 14 weeks to go before those pictures under the Eiffel Tower, really must crack on.