rich_jacko

I went onwards to London last Saturday for charity run number 3, the world's biggest marathon.

I expected registration on Saturday to be stressful, and it was. Unlike other events, where your bib number is posted to you beforehand, for this one they posted out kitbags. You then had to drop these off at the ExCeL Centre, choose your finishing t-shirt, register and collect your number. Supposedly this was for covid reasons, to reduce the crowding of thousands of people together on race day. If so, it was a miserable failure. All it did was move the crowd indoors and a day earlier. Social distancing was impossible; you just had to trust a combination of luck, vaccinations and the requirement for everyone to have a negative lateral flow test in the two days beforehand. I suspect the real reason for this bizarre set-up was to influence people to buy stuff at the ExCeL's marathon show. I didn't go to the show. I was sufficiently freaked out, by the crowds on the Tube and while waiting in various queues for an hour, that I just wanted to get out as soon as possible.

After that, it was back to my hotel in Canary Wharf, where I'd literally only had time to check in, drop my bags and go, for a more chilled evening and an early night before the big race. The 18-mile marker was just outside the entrance, giving a taste of things to come. The weather was absolutely chucking it down, thankfully not giving a taste of things to come.

I woke as dawn was breaking on a crisp, dry and chilly morning - near perfect running conditions again (I've been so lucky with the weather across all three events!). After a sensible, carb-oriented breakfast (must resist having lots of bacon and sausages...), I hopped onto the DLR to Greenwich and made my way through the park to the start line. I was in the green starting zone, which was the smallest of the three, and had less of the excitement than the red zone, where all the TV cameras were. It was cold, waiting to begin, and I was glad I'd brought a foil blanket with me. It was nice to chat with other runners during the long, last-minute queue for the loos and while waiting in our holding area. I spoke with those hoping to go sub-3h30m, those doing their first or fifth marathon, and found myself stood behind the start line next to six people about to break a world record, dressed as Colin the Caterpillar. I love the dichotomy between all the different stories and challenges people have set themselves, and the way running events are such a communal, shared experience. Mind you, everyone in our holding area exclaimed, "What!?" at the guy being interviewed on the big screen for running 48 marathons in 30 days. That's just ridiculous!


As with the Great North Run, the wave starts and absence of spectators at the start line meant it didn't feel like a huge moment. I was mostly just eager to get going (and get warmed up!). It was fairly big though, being called forward with 1,000 other participants, hearing the airhorn, then all crossing the line in our three-minute window. The mass start times were spread over two hours, rather than six, as they had been in Newcastle, making for a much busier start. For all the chaos of Saturday, the organisation on the day itself was faultless, so full credit and thanks to all the organisers and volunteers (who, of course, I thanked along the way). Marshalling the runners, helping people cross the roads around us, manning the drinks and energy stations - all of these were vital jobs. Even if the road around the Lucozade hand-outs did feel rather too much like trying to run on the floor of the Roxy disco.

The early part of the run was all about not charging off too quickly and finding a comfortable pace. Easy enough, though it was tempting to go speeding ahead during the downhill mile 3. Greenwich, for the most part, looks like a residential part of any major city - normal roads, lined with houses, shops and the occasional park. It was easy to forget this was the London Marathon. Also, the 12-year-old me enjoyed sniggering at the marshalls stood either side of every speed bump, shouting "Hump!" enthusiastically and repeatedly as a warning.

As we merged with the red zone starters at the end of mile 3, the numbers grew and it began to feel more like a major event (I couldn't resist shouting, "Come on, you reds!" when they first emerged on the other side of the carriageway, divided from us "greens" and "blues" for a short stretch by the barrier). Then, just past the 10k mark, came the first iconic London Marathon moment - the tight loop around three sides of the Cutty Sark. The crowds here were enormous and gave everyone great support. If you want to know why mass running events are addictive, think about having thousands of people lining the streets, cheering you on. It was like that all the way around (easily the equal of the Great North Run), but nowhere moreso than there at the Cutty.


Almost as if it's the world's biggest parkrun, a marathon is mostly "a run, not a race". The camaraderie and support all the runners give to each other is fantastic. It may be different for the very elite, but us mass runners are mainly focussed on our own run, rather than jostling for position. Every one of us know how much training needs to go into running this distance and have enormous respect for one another. Especially so for those taking on the extra challenge of running in fancy dress. Those runners attract more attention from the crowds, but you can't begrudge them any of it - it's hard enough running 26.2 miles in clothes designed for running in; doing it in a bulky, hot and heavy costume isn't something I'd want to do. As well as the aforementioned Colin, along the way I saw a rhino, an elephant, a stormtrooper with a feather boa, a tractor, a bride and groom pairing, a three-legged pairing, Spider-Man, Batgirl and a giant brain. You cheer them all on, just as much as the crowds do. As I and a couple of other runners passed a guy clomping along in full ski boots. As one, we did a double-take and complimented him, "Well done, mate!" As the event's tagline says, #WeRunTogether.

Beyond the Cutty, the next few miles were uneventful and I got properly set into my rhythm. This wasn't a run I needed to think particularly hard about. There weren't the constant undulations of the Great North Run, or the massive uphill slog of the Sheffield Half. This was mostly flat all the way. It was just a case of finding a comfortable pace I felt I could keep up forever (the distance is too far to be thinking "Well, I can push for this long before I start to tire) and making sure I broadly stuck to it. This was quite easy given the number of other runners to pace against, and I found myself slipping into something of a zen-like state. Beyond that, the sum total of my strategy involved regular sips of water and energy bars after 15k and 30k. A shorter run, such as a 5k or 10k is all about speed and managing your heart rate/breathing; a marathon is all about going the distance and managing your energy/hydration levels and your legs. Every mile and every kilometre of the course was marked out (most events mark out either one or the other), which provided plenty of markers to reassure us all we were making continuous progress. I kept reminding myself, £17 per km - that's how much money I was raising for charity, and it seemed like a pretty good deal. I was definitely achieving something here. Thank you once again to everyone who has sponsored me over these events.

The biggest progress marker of all was Tower Bridge. I knew it was coming up, from passing the 12-mile marker, but it was still quite something to turn the corner and see the road stretching up to it. It was the only really noticeable uphill on the entire course, but the sight of the bridge gives you such a boost, you don't care. The crowds were in full force here too, and running across such a landmark was just as iconic a sporting moment as crossing the Tyne Bridge had been in Newcastle. In London, the bridge has the added significance of meaning you're nearly at the halfway point. This was one of the most exciting bits of the course - in quick succession, you run over the bridge, past the Tower of London, join a mile-and-a-half stretch of watching elite runners passing in the other direction (the fast club athletes, by the time I got there; the Olympians were long gone!), and hit the halfway point.


After that, it was into the winding slog around Canary Wharf and the Isle of Dogs. Not that it was terrible, but this was definitely the least fun part of the course. You lose track of where you are, it goes on for seven miles before you rejoin the carriageway in the other direction, and this is the point in the run when you're starting to seriously tire. And I had to run past my hotel, knowing I still had eight miles to go until the finish line. This whole section was not helped by (a) the sun starting to beat down hard - thank heaven for the shade from tall buildings; or (b) my Garmin watch losing GPS position - curse you, shade from tall buildings! The resulting garbage pace information (16min/km one minute; 3min/km the next - Go home, Garmin; you're drunk!) made it harder to concentrate and stick to my pace. But I got through that long section, and the 32k marker was another significant psychological boost - just over 10k to go and, unlike my previous marathon two years earlier, I was still going strong at this point. Don't get me wrong. It was hard work, I was tired and ready for it to be over soon, but I was still running well. I hadn't had to stop or walk so far and it was around this point I set myself the target of keeping that going until the finish line.

At 37k, I passed that all-important "only a parkrun to go" moment and entered very familiar London territory. There wasn't just an arbitrary distance to the finish line any more; it was a route I knew well. (Well, perhaps not running through Blackfriars Tunnel, but generally.) This was the first and last moment during the run that I had a serious think about my finishing time. Having established I wasn't going to break sub-3h45m (a possible goal I had going in), but nor was I going to be slower than 4h, unless anything went badly wrong in the last stretch, I dismissed such thoughts again and just concentrated on making it to the end without breaking stride. Others were slowing around me at this point. I tried to encourage them along where I could, but I was too tired to shout very much.


Along the Embankment, past the 25-mile marker - I could feel the end was near as I passed the corner of Westminster Bridge and Big Ben, 1,200m to go... Up past Whitehall, along Birdcage Walk and alongside St James's Park - it's just name-dropping landmarks at this point. This was it, the third and final big iconic section (after Cutty Sark and Tower Bridge) leading up to the finish. The signs marked 600m to go... 400m to go... I rounded the corner past Buckingham Palace (noting the Union Jack flying; Her Maj wasn't in!) and saw the finish up ahead. I got a boost from hearing the announcer talking about everyone coming in now achieving a finish in under 4 hours. It was in the bag at this point and I didn't have the energy for a sprint finish. Along with a couple of others, I spread my arms wide, soaked up the atmosphere and let myself relax a little, just enjoying cruising the final straight up The Mall and across the line. A finish time of 3h52m26s. I'll happily take that.


I paused for a selfie (getting out of the way of a runner dressed as a tree, who was doing the same), collected my kit bag, then went to join the park full of runners collapsed on the ground, to rest my weary legs, have a snack and a drink, and catch up on messages - lots of good luck messages from friends and family, as well as congratulations from those who'd been following my progress online. In my goody bag, as well as the extra layer and food items I'd added, there were much-needed bottles of Lucozade and water, a hefty finisher's medal and the brightest finisher's t-shirt I've ever earned. It'll certainly be handy if I go jogging at night and need to be seen... from orbiting satellites.

Eventually I struggled back to my feet. This was hard. I gave the corporate stalls a miss, but cheered on the people who were still running as I made my way back to the Tube. Having been lucky with the weather so far, the heavens now opened for a brief deluge. I got wet, but mainly felt sorry for those still out on the course. It felt nice to be treated like royalty by the Underground staff - a finisher's medal got you a "Well done!" and free passage through the barriers. Random passers-by also paused to congratulate anyone wearing a medal. There were still runners passing by my hotel when I got back, and the sun was out again, so I stopped to cheer them on before retiring to my room. The remainder of the day saw me attending to my aching body, phoning Mum and Dad, taking advantage of the hotel pool and sauna (Bliss!) and staggering out as far as Nando's for food replenishment. After which I went to bed at quarter to nine and slept for ten hours.

I felt stiff and sore on Monday morning, but triumphant. I made further use of the pool and sauna, and was able to make full use of the breakfast offer, without having to worry about running. There were several other runners staying in the hotel, so lots of mutual congratulations and swapping notes on how we'd done (a near clone of Dave R had run it in under 3h30m). I checked out, popped briefly into our London office to pick up my new security pass for work (None of my colleagues was in) then joined the queue for medal engraving outside the New Balance shop on Oxford Street.

I was expecting to have to wait, but I spent almost as long waiting as it took to run the marathon. I'm not even exaggerating; I was stood in line for about 3h45m. Not what your legs need the day after running 26.2 miles. Luckily it was a fine day and I had a book to read (thank you, Stephen Fry!) but still, had I known it would take that long, I probably wouldn't have bothered. The people doing the engraving were lovely and friendly, but there really needed to have been more than two of them. Negative marks for post-event organisation, just as with the pre-event arrangements. As a result, I missed the last super off peak train back by about 20 minutes, and spent 3 hours waiting around Kings Cross - St Pancras. I bought books, beer and pasta to pass the time, and eventually made it home around a quarter to ten. I was very glad I'd booked the following day off work as well.

Despite such occasional setbacks, it had been a triumphant trip. And let's not forget I wasn't just doing this for the challenge, but to raise funds for the National Autistic Society. My sponsorship page remains open for anyone who still wants to donate - I know some people have qualms about donating until after the event ;o)


What next? London has given me greater confidence in running marathons, so I doubt it will be my last. At York, I started too fast, hit "the wall" around 30k and half-limped to the end. I made none of those mistakes this time around and kept running throughout, at a satisfyingly consistent pace. Yet my finish time was around 2 minutes slower than York. Did I err the other way, and pace myself too cautiously? I feel I've got a sub-3h45m in me; I only need to shave off 11s/km. Not next year though, as I want a break from marathon training over the summer. Maybe in 2023...

So, holiday. It's taken me a little longer than anticipated to write this up. Partly because I needed to clear some disk space before I could sort through the 816 photos I took. (I really need a new computer.) Partly because of work stuff I needed to do over the weekend. Partly because I'd obviously got so unused to typing during my three weeks off that I got RSI in my left hand when I started again. But I'm getting there...

( The first week - only contains 56 photos! )

Gah! My computer appears to have suddenly died. (To be fair, it has served me pretty well for more than a decade and it was definitely getting slow in its old age.)

Can anyone recommend a decent, inexpensive laptop? I'm not fussed about playing games on it; I just want something that'll cope with the interwebs/Office/Photoshop/etc. With at least a 15" screen and a decent amount of disk space.

Also, I'm pretty sure (or hopeful, at least) that it's the motherboard that's gone rather than the hard drive. There's quite a bit of stuff on there I want to retrieve. What's the best way of doing so? Can you even connect desktop hard drives to a laptop?

It seems my fridge is not borkened, and it was merely struggling with the heat after all.

Okay, this was less because of the weather, and more because the heat exchanger was clogged up with vast amounts of fluff, and kept cutting out when it got too hot. I'm glad I figured this out for myself before calling an engineer to charge me lots of money to tell me :o)

I never thought I'd fix a fridge using a vacuum cleaner!

I saw 'Robot and Frank' this evening, which is a wonderfully sweet comedy drama about one man and his robot.

Sadly my own relationship with technology is somewhat less idyllic. Why is it that every gadget I own seems to be slightly broken?

My sound bar died part-way through Saturday's Doctor Who evening (I managed to pick up a new one at half price, so we should be okay for the next movie evening!). My DVD player has a disc tray like Arkwright's till. My house phone needs switching off and on again every few days. My tablet has developed a fun habit of switching itself on and off randomly (This may be a software thing - Since the last Android update it only seems to do it when booting up or shutting down, and not when I'm in the middle of something. This is an improvement.). My desktop PC gets slower and slower over time. Even my toaster doesn't pop up properly half the time.

This is supposed to be the 21st Century! What hope is there for flying cars if we can't even get basic stuff which works!

It was slightly reassuring when I went to the cinema to see 'Cloud Atlas' yesterday (Yes, two films in as many days. There's a lot on at the moment.), and their sound wasn't working either at first. Nor was their heating.

I think Sod's Law when applied to technology basically states: "The more complex the technology, the more things there are to go wrong with it."

*sigh*

Sorry it's taken me nearly a week to get around to writing this up. It's partly that I've been really busy since I came back, what with work, two trips to the cinema (more on the latter in my next post), helping the Chivers decorate their Christmas tree, Lard Club Christmas at Pepe's, Chinese food, and my work Christmas do at Pasta Bar, followed by a pub crawl up Ecclesall Road. It's also partly my reluctance to grapple with LJ's annoying new(ish) photo upload system. (Who'd have thought something on LJ would be less intuitive and easy to use than it's Facebook equivalent?)

Anywaaaay, ( here's what we got up to on holiday. )

All in all it was a great few days away. It was a shame so many people dropped out of the trip, but it was nice to spend time with the Chivers. The goblin and I got through a few more chapters of Harry Potter and a couple of games of Chrononauts. The bug merrily waved "See you later" to anyone he'd see, and then I taught him jazz hands... We fairly thoroughly explored two beautiful towns, I ticked another country that I've been too. Oh, and we had quite a bit of cake :o)


Click for photos

Aargh! I am having FAIL in uploading this week's photos onto LJ at the moment. I will try again tomorrow evening. In the meantime, for those of you on that Facebook, I've uploaded Paralympic photos there. They should appear here shortly!

When I first heard about this I thought it might be a bit of a mess, with too many main characters and too many wacky concepts thrown together to make a coherent film. Then I found out it was being written and directed by Joss Whedon, king of ensemble casts with wacky concepts, and I knew all would be well.

To be honest, it is a bit of a mess. There's a vague plot, of sorts. It has an underlying anti-war/WMD message that starts to go somewhere interesting in the second act, but is completely undermined by the third. The first half hour is difficult to engage with if and a bit confusing if you haven't completely brushed up on the previous films in the franchise. (Oddly, there's a line of exposition to remind us who Loki is, but nothing until nearly halfway through the film to remind us where the Tesseract came from, despite it being the main plot MacGuffin.)

None of this really matters though, nor does it stop me wanting to see this film again. On IMAX. The joy of watching Avengers Assemble isn't in the story. It's in watching several ridiculously larger-than-life egomaniacs bouncing off one another, sometimes literally. Once the Big Four start to "assemble", the film really takes off.

Having Joss write dialogue for Robert Downey Jr's Tony Stark couldn't be better, and Stark steals most of the scenes he's in. Special mention also for Mark Ruffalo's Bruce Banner (the third Hulk in as many films), who plays an understated yet complex contrast to his big green alter-ego. The relationship between Stark and Banner, two geniuses, is great to watch. And as for Banner turning into "the other guy", well... Stark may have the best lines, but it's Hulk who gets the biggest laughs.

Chris Hemsworth's Thor is basically the same as before (no bad thing), but just a little bit more human (good). Tom Hiddleston's Loki continues to be an interesting and surprisingly vulnerable bad guy - a god with a massive inferiority complex. And Samuel L Jackson's Nick Fury has a hell of a lot more to do this time round. I felt slightly sorry for Chris Evans's (No, not that one!) Captain Rogers/America and Scarlett Johansson's Agent Romanoff/Black Widow, who have the boring job of playing it straight against the rest of the main cast, but someone's got to do it.

The action is a huge amount of fun, and it's nice to see it done right. You may have heard me moan before about ludicrously quick camera cuts where you can't follow what's happening. I always think camera-work should showcase the fight choreography, rather than be used to hide its shortcomings. There's no worry about that here. All the action scenes in Avengers are inventive, brilliantly choreographed and show off each character's strengths and foibles. They're a seamless part of what's going on, rather than an eye candy distraction from the story and character interaction. Camera-wise, there's one very long tracking shot in the final battle in particular, that I immediately fell in love with and hoped would never end.

Avengers Assemble is probably not going to win any awards. It only works at all because the characters and world they inhabit are already well established by the previous films in the franchise. What it is, though, is big and silly and loud and enormous fun. It does what it does extremely well, and is highly recommended :o)

There's an extra credit cookie scene part-way through the end credits. A black mark to Cineworld for raising the house lights just as it was starting. That's on top of the black mark they already earned for not showing it on IMAX at a convenient time.

Feeling decidedly poorly today. That'll teach me not to associate with plague-carrying footbugs. Why can't I be ill during the week instead?:o(

Oh yeah, now the sun comes out, several hours too late!

Can I have the moon and clouds in front of the sun separately please, not both at the same time and then neither :o(