In the week following the London Marathon, which was run by yours truly, it became clear that certain members of the group were not aware that I had run it. Did I mention that I ran the marathon? So, we decided to sack off a match report this week and give the fans what they want, my marathon report. A shout out to Mr Penfold as well who also smashed it, not that he’ll read this or ever be seen again.
Getting off the train at Blackheath and walking into Greenwich park, it became very apparent that the wind was fucking freezing. I didn’t make tour in 2023, but I can only imagine this was the misery that was felt on the cobb at 7am on Saturday morning. A poo and 2 wees later, I was throwing my bag on the lorry and standing in the freezing wind for 45 minutes in shorts and t-shirt. Great warm up. Huddled in my wave, I found the 3.20 pacer, Dame Kelly Holmes pushed a big red button and off we went.
I happily plodded through the arse end of South East London, with a brief respite running around Cutty Sark where the crowd was mental. I stuck within the large pack formed behind mr 3.20 and all was well.
It was around 10 miles that I realised I’d not done enough training to run 3.20. My “go hard or go home” attitude had landed me in a little bit of bother. As I high fived my dad in Bermondsey, all I could think about was that poor Belgian man in a portaloo in Hasselt: “uh oh”. Not that anything was massively wrong at this point, but I knew. I smashed it over Tower Bridge, saw Kenya's Alexander Munyao running towards the finish, got past half way in 1.38.30 and assessed my options.
I let the 3.20 crew go, that ship had sailed. It was now about self preservation and avoiding the inevitable pain for as long as I could. As the miles ticked on, I slowly felt more and more sick and the pain in the legs increased. Zig zagging back up through Canary Wharf was rough, with only the 30k marker at the end to motivate me. Once passed that, turning left and finally heading the right way, it was just a job of counting down the ks until the finish.
The final 12km was complete misery. The only analogy I can think of is playing water polo for WT Narwhals. My legs were in agony, regularly holding down the vomit, body screaming at me to stop running. All I could do was make it to each milestone, back past halfway, Run Dem Crew, Rainbow Row, onto the Embankment. If I can get to Big Ben, I’m done and can roll home. I crossed the finish line, the second half had taken me 1 hour 49 minutes, so a whole 9 minutes slower. I could barely walk, I was cold, drinking the Lucozade almost made me chunder dragon.
Despite my suffering, it was an incredible day. The London Marathon really is the best race in the world and I if you ever get an opportunity to run it grab it with both hands. I also raised over £1k for the Nick Shute 2024 Tour Fund. Online donations are now closed, but if you would like to donate then cash is accepted.
Oh and we lost another game on Wednesday to Orca 1s, 10-7. Can’t shoot for shit. My excuse is all of the above. Man of the match went to R.O.N, there were no moments worthy of a winning vote. Andy gets fluffer for not learning his lesson and conceding another buzzer beater from the other half (sorry Andy).
We keep running. Kudos.
Forza Narwhali
