Pat McCormack's
2005 London Marathon experience
I was more than a little apprehensive as I lined up for the
start of the 2005 Flora London Marathon. Running this event had
been at the top of my wish list for many years and initially I
had trained like never before. However with six weeks to go it
all ground to a halt with severe leg pain which was finally
diagnosed as two stress fractures in my right leg, and severe
shin splints in my left. Running was impossible, and this
disappointment, along with the excitement of organising the
remainder of my six week overseas trip, had pushed the marathon
to the back of my mind.
Despite the insistence of friends and family that I must be
worried I hadn’t really thought that much about it. However
with helicopters buzzing overhead, television cameras panning
the 36,500 strong start, and flanked by a guy in a Batman suit
and one of the Telly Tubbys, I was suddenly taking it very
seriously indeed.
It was a lovely sunny day, quite hot for London as we gathered
on Blackheath, waiting for the quite civilized starting time of
9.45am. The start went well, considering the numbers, and I
settled into my chosen “damage control” pace of 6min/km as we
headed into Charlton. Previous experience had taught me to curb
the initial excitement and I happily watched the multitudes
streaming past, knowing full well that 42.195km
(26miles,385yards) is a long way. My doctor’s advice, “the
worst that will happen is that your leg will just break”,
coupled with the lack of training filled me with confidence.
The race is brilliantly organised and well supported by the
London public, who line the entire route yelling encouragement.
There were two separate starts and being a part of the mass of
runners which converged at Woolwich and streamed down a long
straight stretch of road was incredible.
I felt like Superman just past six miles and running on the
boardwalk around the “Cutty Sark”. The crowd was eight deep and
yelling their hearts out, although I couldn’t have been Superman
because I saw him running with Batman. How did they get ahead
of me? As we trotted towards the Central London, a lot of the
pubs had a band playing out front, anything from hip hop to the
local school brass band. Everyone’s pace picked up to “My
Sharona”.
Running over Tower Bridge will always be etched in my mind; it’s
such an icon and the footpaths were crowded with cheering
Londoners..
A bit more tired than I should have been by halfway, but I had
friends at the 13 mile mark, and seeing them cheered me
considerably. I was determined to look good when I looped back
past them at around the 20 mile mark despite the mounting
evidence from my body. Funnily enough every part of my right
leg took turns at being sore except the area of the fractures.
The course was so crowded during these stages that it was
difficult to keep stride whilst constantly dodging people.
I had based my times on kilometres but on the course, only miles
were marked. At 19 miles I suddenly lost my ability to convert
my kilometre time into miles, something about the body shutting
down the blood supply to non-essential areas, but surely I’m
still using my brain?? I decided to slow the pace a bit and it
was at this time I knew I was going to make it, probably due to
a lack of blood to the brain.
At around 22 miles the old second rower skills came in handy as
coming down a hill with both thighs threatening to cramp at the
same time I was confronted with a group of people who were
walking and spread right across the track. Hope the fake Kiwi
accent fooled them, “Sorry Chips”. I decided to slow the pace a
bit more.
I was gone for the last few miles but determined not to walk, I
was carried along by the excitement of the six deep crowds
lining the road along the Thames. Many runners wore name tags
and the crowd called out their names along with other
encouragement.
Right turn at Westminster, down to Buckingham Palace, right
again and the finish line was in sight. As always the sight of
the finish provoked an increase in pace over the last couple of
hundred yards, although after finishing I could barely walk.
Getting over a 30cm fence in the recovery area required about a
minute of heavy concentration.
Official finish time was 4hr00min44sec, however I’m claiming my
watch time of 4:00:14 because, unlike Paula Radcliffe, I stopped
and used the conveniences. My finishing position was 10,894.
The race was on a Sunday and I couldn’t walk properly until the
Thursday, but it’s a satisfied sort of pain, even when you’re so
slow you get stuck in the door of a Dublin bus!
It was an unforgettable day. Thank you London, “I luv youse
all!”.
Pat McCormack
[
Back to Top ]
|
