The Brighton Marathon – wowee, what a day! I had been so nervous leading up to race day, I didn’t know what to expect. Although I had completed an 18 miler in training I had no reference point of what it would feel like to do 8 more miles on top of that. I was super scared. Whilst waiting in the toilet queue at the race start I explained this to a guy I was standing with and he cheakily suggested that there would be no monsters jumping out in front of me and reasurred me that I didn’t need to be scared and that I should enjoy it.
I did enjoy it…well some of it. I loved that the sun was shining, that there were loads of spectators, the first half of the route was really beautiful and it was great to see my sister holding a banner cheering me on. Once I got past the half way point I started to feel pretty tired, a lot more so than I had done in my training runs. Once I headed towards the Hove area I started to get a really sharp pain in my chest and shoulder. This has been a recurring thing throughout my training quite often when I ran above 13 miles. It flared up massively during the Surrey Half Marathon in March, it was super painful but I managed to match my previous PB time of 2 hours 15.
To manage my aches and pains I saw a wonderful massage therapist called Danielle who runs the Surrey Massage Clinic in Dorking. She is awesome, I would highly recommend her as well as her colleague Elise who worked wonders on my glutes and hips.
As I got to mile 17 I was sore, sore, sore and by mile 19 I was just pissed off – damn shoulder/chest injury thing!! I was walking by this point and my friends saw me, I had a little cry, they gave me a hug and ran with me for a bit. I’m not really that great at asking people to support me in doing things so to see my friends and family there on the day meant the absolute world to me. I carried on, swallowed a couple of emergency paracetamol and within minutes I felt this outrageous euphoric high spurred on by the sounds of The Pointer Sisters “I’m So Excited” being played through my headphones. How that ended up on my playlist is beyond me but it was amazing, so much so that I started high fiving the crowds – weeeeeeeeeeeee. Listen to the song – do it, do it, do it.
Before I knew it I was on the home straight and saw two more friends, one of which was an incredible support and motivator during my training. I saw the Mile 26 marker, cried and then I finished – unbelievable. I recieved my medal and t-shirt whilst having a big old cry. The volunteers were brilliant, so lovely and gave me a hug. I met up with my sister who took me home and told me my time was 5 hours 11 minutes. I have to say I was dissapointed with my time, I had secretly wished for a sub 5 hour time and felt quite bummed out when I got home.
It wasn’t until I went to work on the Tuesday that I properly started processing what I had achieved. Everyone at work was so brilliant, so encouraging and complementary. Although I vowed never to do a manathon again once I had finished the race, the idea of doing another one is starting to sound a bit more appealing because I feel great, I am so proud of myself, like really really proud of myself. Running a marathon is such a mental and physical challenge, I don’t think I have ever felt so tired or emotional as I have done during this process. In the 4 or 5 months of training I have changed a lot in my life and feel incredible because of it. Brighton Marathon – you flipping rock and I rock even more for doing it. Yeeeeeeeeeeeeah ♥