On Sunday April 27th, 2025, after a 16 week block of training, I ran my second ever marathon: the London Marathon.
My previous marathon, Manchester Marathon 2022, I ran in 2:49, following a 6 month block of steady training.
That race got me a GoodForAge place in London 2023, which I couldn’t use due to injury.
When I started this training block I shared the following goals:
In descending order of importance i.e. most important first:
I also wrote a diary of my progress each week, if you’re interested in the details.
I had an alarm for 5, but I was awake around 3. I wasn’t too worried. I’d been asleep since 9, and 6 hours before a race is more than I could have hoped for.
My whole race morning was scheduled to the minute. This is something I like to do to assuage nerves. Having a clockwork plan mitigates the need to worry and keeps me moving forward.
I ate at 5, and got everything ready. I put on my vest & suncream, packed my race shoes, and set off for Blackeath at 6:45. I didn’t see many runners until Lewisham, where the platform was packed, but the journey was smooth. I got to Blackheath station by 7:30.
It was the most palpable “calm before the storm” atmosphere I’ve ever experienced. Thousands of people walking towards an exciting terrifying shared experience. Just waiting.
I’d dreamt of this, wondered what Blackheath was like on race morning, for more than 20 years. Now I was here. It was happening. I had an inner conflict, between trying to enjoying the magic, and staying calm and remembering the job in hand.
I was in the green assembly area, and the walk was long. It easily took 20 minutes. Once I arrived though it was straight in, no issues.
The green assembly area is new, for people who don’t want bag drop. In return you get benches to sit on and, in theory, more toilets. The queues for the latter were still substantial.
Nearly 2 hours of waiting followed. I read the Economist and chatted to other runners.
The London Marathon theme tune was playing: The Trap – Champions United. Steve Cram & Paula Radcliffe were broadcast across the fields. I was here and I couldn’t believe it.
I took off my throw-away shoes, jumper, trousers, and put on my race shoes. Took a last wee, and queued for the start at 9:20. We were let through to the start area, where the elite men started in front of us, followed by the championship group, and then it was us: mass wave 1.
A quick pause to explain how I wanted to run this.
My philosophy is that data is an output. I don’t aim for paces. Paces are the result of effort.
My plan, as always, was to go out at what felt like a comfortable effort, and see what I had left at the end.
For reference, I expected I could run somewhere in the 2:50s, meaning an average pace somewhere between 6:30 & 6:50.
The gun went off, and we shuffle towards, and then run over the line. Watches beep. In a residential road in Blackheath the greatest race in the world begins.
I had a stitch for much of the first mile. It wasn’t too bad, but I was glad when it faded away.
My first impression was how warm it already was. At 9:30 I was already feeling it. It was going to be a tough day.
My next thought was how congested it was. It was impossible to do anything but go with the swarm, watch my footing. I couldn’t judge the pace because I couldn’t see anything that wasn’t a runner, to assess my speed against. It was in fact so busy that they had signs for speed bumps, because we couldn’t see them coming.
In the distance I could see the helicopters which follow the elites. They were already a long way off.
When the first mile came my watch showed 6:08. I hadn’t run a single mile in training that fast. Oh shit I thought. I’ve gone off way too fast. I felt fine though. I made a conscious effort to slow down, to try not to be swept along. The next mile was in the 6:20s. Better I thought.
Then 6:11. What was going on. I felt good, so I just let it happen, and got on with the day.
I’ve struggled with fuelling all training block. My plan for the day was to take half a maurten every 3 miles, chased by a drink at the water station. First half at mile 3 went well, but the second half at mile 6 was just so heavy. I was going round Cutty Sark not having much fun. In the heat a heavy stomach is awful, and it got worse as I made my way up to mile 9 at Surrey Quays. I skipped the next few gels, and let things settle down.
I was due to see some family and friends at Cutty Sark and Canary Wharf, but it was so busy I missed both.
Besides seeing people I knew, the milestone I had in my head was crossing Tower Bridge. It did not disappoint. Is this the most iconic image in running? I just didn’t want it to end. Magic.
And then it’s behind you, and we turn down the Highway towards Wapping and cross halfway. Just do that again!
It’s getting hot now. It’s nearly 11am.
Along the Highway, through Limehouse and into Canary Wharf. The Victoria Park support turned out strong. The vest is a superpower in East London.
Into Canary Wharf, around mile 16, I started to feel the lack of fuelling. I was in by just one gel at this point, due to concerns from the first one. I took another half around this point, but I think I knew it was too late to stop what was coming.
At this point I was still clocking 6:teen miles, and the fitness was there to continue. The carbs were not.
As I left Canary Wharf I saw 4 groups of friends and family, separately standing along the same road. That was amazing. I was just starting to flag and this definitely bought me a mile.
Then, turning out of Canary Wharf and down the hill to Poplar, the wall crashed in on me. I’ve never hit the wall before. It felt like energy drained out of my feet like health out of a Pokemon. From there it was a long, horrible slog.
I downed another gel, and any of the lucozade John Barnes happened to hand me. Of course it’s too late.
The problem with the London marathon is I know the route. I knew exactly how far I had to go. 6 miles isn’t much in abstract, but it’s a long way from Poplar to Westminster. It felt impossible.
I felt like I’d fallen to a crawl, though looking back at the splits I in the high 6s and mid 7s per mile.
Every part of me wanted to stop. A massive stitch came to my right side, probably from downing a gel and Lucozades.
I shut down, and remember very little of those last miles, which is a shame. But then, gratefully, I made it to Big Ben. This picked me up, and I managed to enjoy some of the last mile. All of a sudden I was on the Mall.
I saw the clock, and realised I was still going to run a sub-3, which I couldn’t understand given how slow I thought I had been.
My official time: 2:54:27.
It was done. My dream complete.
And that was that. I had run the London Marathon. As I write this a couple of days later it is only gradually dawning on me, what that means. That my dream is achieved. That I can breath. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.
The crowds were amazing. No space to fail, the people of London wouldn’t let me. On such a hot day, only they got me there. I wish I could’ve felt better in the last miles to soak it up a little more. I’ll be back!
If I could’ve fuelled properly, I could’ve run a very fast time. My fitness was frankly shockingly good. I have fuelling to nail down, and then a great marathon time to run. Unfinished business.
| # | SPLIT |
|---|---|
| 1 | 6:08 |
| 2 | 6:20 |
| 3 | 6:11 |
| 4 | 6:06 |
| 5 | 6:10 |
| 6 | 6:11 |
| 7 | 6:06 |
| 8 | 6:05 |
| 9 | 6:14 |
| 10 | 6:17 |
| # | SPLIT |
|---|---|
| 11 | 6:19 |
| 12 | 7:13 🛑 |
| 13 | 6:13 |
| 14 | 6:13 |
| 15 | 6:12 |
| 16 | 6:31 |
| 17 | 6:22 |
| 18 | 6:26 |
| 19 | 6:20 |
| 20 | 6:36 |
| # | SPLIT |
|---|---|
| 21 | 6:47 🧱 |
| 22 | 7:18 |
| 23 | 7:15 |
| 24 | 7:58 |
| 25 | 8:15 |
| 26 | 7:31 |
| 0.44 | 7:12 |
🛑 = wee stop | 🧱 = hit the wall
Average pace for miles 1-10: 6:10 per mile
Projected finish time at mile 10: 2h 42m
Average pace for miles 11-20: 6:26 per mile
Average pace for miles 1-20: 6:18 per mile
Projected finish time at mile 20: 2h 45m
Fitness wise, I was never struggling. I was looking forward to picking up the pace and kicking for home. I really felt I could’ve gone sub 2:40, even in the heat, with the right fuel.
I have more to do with the marathon. I didn’t do huge mileage or big sessions this block. I prioritised getting to the start line.
If I can nail fuelling, I’m excited for what might be possible.
I want to stack training. This is something I’ve never done well, taking long periods off after races.
But before I get too carried away, clearly I need to sort fuelling. There’s no point training so hard, only to have it ruined by gels digestion.
Next for me is a serious exploration of alternatives, and then another marathon!