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From Rumon
My latest Triathlete Magazine online column, reporting on lessons learned from last weekend’s London Marathon, is live here. (When will they stop using that terrible picture from the Bear Mountain Summit Challenge?!)
(Apologies for the delay on the race report. Running around finalizing the purchase of our new house while getting Aviva packed for her trip to Africa and my quick trip to Courtney tomorrow to do the ski leg of the Snow to Surf Adventure Relay.)
From Rumon
4:48 a.m.
The milk in the fridge has gone sour in my absence; thankfully, everything else at home is sweet, notwithstanding being wide awake at this hour, no tea to greet the morning. I look forward to being realigned with my west coast circadian rhythms.
Our London departure couldn’t have been much better. One last run, jogging along the morning Thames with Ben, soaking up the Old World through the outsoles, capping a terrific trip. Shook hands with new friends then waved goodbye to England, promising to return.
As I start to look forward to the next trip, next goal, next project, I’m gaining inspiration from the network built along Three Roads to London. This morning, I’m on the roads of Iten, Boulder and Boston, watching the final video blog from chasingKIMBIA – it’s brilliant. Perhaps it’s time to buy a video camera.
From Rumon
1:36 a.m. as I begin to type. Too late. Tired.
Another great day.
Saw off the Fowles then saw ourselves off, hiking through Ickenham to the tube, Picadilly line to Earl’s Green, District Line to Parson’s Green, across the green, press the buzzer and into the rabbit hole. My mind has been expanding since then (do I need to eat the other half of the mushroom to make it stop?).
A fantastic, at times Carrollian, day with polar explorer Ben Saunders, sharing ideas, telling tales, watching video and eating. Oh, the cuisine in London. I need to leave just to get back to training and healthy living. This marathoning is bad for the waistline!
We’re on the plane in 11 hours time. Between then and now we may or may not run, will definitely drink some coffee and will once again navigate the tube system before jetting home, reappearing above ground to our better halves’ embraces.
What a trip. So many stories. But I first owe you one from the race. If I stay awake, I shall endeavor to do put it down from seat 20f. In order for that to be a possibility, I must now lay down my head, imagining ice crystals on my duvet and polar bears outside the window, patrolling the high street.
From Rumon
Today was another day of post-race perfection, the highlight our run to Denham and back. If there was a single thing that marked the run it was the sound of a lengthy exhale, the words “my god…” wrapped in a sigh. I marveled at this run, taken as it was from a paved suburb into pastures and trails within seconds. Who would guess we’re only 17 miles from Central London? I’ll let the pictures tell the rest of the story – Denham, obviously, is one of the Crown Jewels – with this one bit of explanation.
I’ve mentioned that across the road from the Fowles’ residence is a field. In this field are cows. Michael has written about them and their love of running. After runners. So Michael was quite pleased when they were on the other side of the field as we ran through on our outbound leg. Not so as we were headed home. The picture of Michael looking back in my direction was taken seconds after he had checked ’round the hedge for his favourite cows. “There’s one right there,” he hissed, “And it’s looking straight at me – we’re dead!!” Well, me, being the prat that I am, had to add a little more fun to the mix, mooing at the lovely heifers as we ran past. You can see how that worked out – jolly good fun!
From Rumon
As I look out into the Fowles’ bucolic backyard, it’s hard to imagine we’re just a one-hour tube ride from downtown London; like a colt that’s been too long in a stall (here the stall being the concrete confines of downtown London), I can’t wait to get out for a run through the pastures. A quick few updates before doing so:
- It’s incredibly sobering to hear about the death on Sunday of a 22-year-old London Marathoner, to say nothing of the 5000 other runners who had to receive St. John’s Ambulance treatment. There have been comments raised that the organizers should have provided more water, but given the thousands of extra bottles they put out upon hearing the weather forecast and the fact that aid stations were already placed at least every mile, it’s impossible to maintain a position that the race is entirely to blame. Should some of that blame rest with the earlier runners, runners like me who took water at nearly every aid station, but never the full bottle that was provided? Individual bottles were a wonderful luxury while you were drinking from them, but the waste of both plastics and water was manifest. Bottom line, it’s a horrible tragedy that a young man passed away in the midst of the pursuit of what was surely a lofty personal dream.
- The legs are feeling a little creaky this morning, but no worse than after a hard long run, which is what the marathon amounted to in the end. Not so good though that I could answer Michael’s question this morning, “Are you going to run the Garden City 10k [in 5-day's time]?” with anything other than, “Are you daft?!?” I may be keen to run already, but not a hard 10k. Give me another week, though, and perhaps you’ll see me at the adidas Vancouver International Half Marathon.
- For a great read and to find out what those much faster than Michael and I do after their (variously successful) marathons, check out Matt’s latest Daily Run over at Chasing KIMBIA – it’s fantastic.
- Michael left his camera lying around this morning, so I took the opportunity to sneakily upload some of his excellent pictures to our Flickr site. Now, at long last and after what was surely an unbearable amount of anticipation, you can see photodocumentation of the infamous double-decker/lorry crash. Also some great pics of the Fowles kids, the Ickenham environs from Michael’s earlier stay and more London pre-race.
You know, Michael and I have to be two of the luckiest guys on Earth…
From Rumon
I’m using all my taste buds at the moment, tasting both ironically sweet satisfaction while a lingering bitterness remains. Due to the latter, I wasn’t certain of whether or what to write, but knowing that I’ll want to better remember it later, here’s the first installment from the day.
(Before going on, though, thank you once again for all the wonderful words of support. And please don’t take my comments about bitterness as any reflection that I feel anything less than blessed for the opportunity of the experience, how ever it ended. As I wrote yesterday, it’s not overstating it to describe this past while as a profound experience; best amongst that the support from my running mates and broader community. I look forward to what comes out of this, behind the finish line…)
Pre-Race
0545 Up and into the warm-ups and trainers, out the door. It’s already warm, but there’s a pleasant breeze blowing up the Thames as we head towards Tower Bridge. Lightly up the stairs and a left turn onto the bridge, navigating around the workers erecting the metal barriers that will line the bridge, holding back the massive crowds. Up and over the bridge, turning around at the south end. Accelerating into the first of a couple of light strides, wondering whether it’s the early hour, the setting, or some combination that’s making this all feel very surreal. Read the rest of this entry »
6:57
It’s real now. Ten minutes ago, I was brushing my teeth, staring in the mirror. I realized that no matter how far behind the leaders I’ll be, how deep I’ll be swimming in the masses, this is a race. A race with tens of thousands of competitors, but only one that matters – me. I’ve flirted with ideas of just jogging along, taking in the sights, but no longer. I may be far from optimal fitness, but if there’s one thing I know when it comes to my place in sport it is that I’m a racer. So now, I’m ready. To suffer, to dig, to grimace.
I’m hungry.
It’s time to go.
From Rumon
[Read from the bottom; updating throughout the day]
Tomorrow, you’ll be able to track results from:
- http://live.london-marathon.co.uk/2007/
- Our numbers are: Michael – 991; Rumon – 990
If you’d like to stream live video of the race (which, incongruously, won’t be featuring Michael and I but a pack of very skinny dudes in short-shorts), go here:
8:54 I think this will be the last update. Perhaps not depending upon how jazzed I am/whether I’m able to sleep. I’ve maintained to anyone who asked before I left that I was feeling pretty low-key about this whole thing. Not a “runner.” Happy to finish seeing that as accomplishment enough. Whatever time is on the clock as I finish will be sufficient indication of getting back into shape. The bigger thing for me being what we’ve done with our Shoes for Youth initiative. Etc. All true. But now I’m here, it’s just over 12 hours ’til the start and there are 26.2 miles left to run. As I look out the window at Tower Bridge while I type, I know that the roads across the bridge come at 12 miles into the race. Where will I be on the clock? How will I be feeling? Will any of these niggling injuries do more than niggle? Will I be the last of the Championship men, being passed en masse by runners with 5-digit numbers? There’s no way to know. Nothing left to do. Read the rest of this entry »
From Rumon
I’d like to go on record announcing my retirement from running marathons. Following the treatment we’re receiving here at the 2007 Flora London Marathon, I really don’t think I could run another – it would be completely anti-climactic.
Things are beginning to buzz around here, the official race hotel and rallying point of elite runners, officials and the press. And two lads from Canada.
While most of you sleep, a few notes: Read the rest of this entry »
From Rumon
With apologies, this one will again need to be brief. I have one final loose end to tie up, heading out on the Tube to pick up my race number (after confirming yesterday that I do in fact have a number!). Then a final tune-up job before the legs go up for the day. Lots of footy on the telly today, so we’ll be covered – Go Red Army!
It’s amazing being at the race hotel; the thoroughbreds strolling around, doing strides through the valet parking area, lighting up the foyer with their pearly whites, is worth a few “is-this-real?!?” pinches. Read the rest of this entry »
