London Marathon

Frankenstein is relieving himself behind a baggage lorry on the Blue start …………

Frankie: “No but I’m actually Frankenstein, I seem to have transformed into the Incredible Hulk during make-up”

Unknown runner: “Well I’ve transformed from an athlete into a nervous wreck and I’m really worried about doing this”

Frankie: “Don’t worry, you’re in the middle of a London park talking to a strange man and you’ve got your w**** out, that should be more worrying than running the marathon”.

So why was I running the marathon dressed as Frankenstein? It had been a last minute decision to run at all. I’d carried over my entry from last year when I had been struck down by a career threatening injury and then, just as my serious training for this year’s race was starting I injured my knee again, on 24^th January. The pain was similar to a blunt nail being hammered through the kneecap and then wiggled about by a psychopath. Running a bath was difficult so running a marathon seemed impossible. I didn’t run again until 19^th March. At that time I had no intention of running a marathon.

However, in the days before Easter I had some sort of mental aberration and thought that maybe I could do it. So Easter Saturday saw me shuffling 18 miles around Stowmarket. This was the test, if I could do it without ill effect or that nail being driven through my kneecap I would do London. The test run was a great success, no stiffness, and no nail through the kneecap. I read somewhere that to stand any chance of running well in a marathon your five longest training runs should ideally total 100 miles and at least 65 miles, mine totalled 68. It was all systems go for London – but I didn’t tell Richard Fellingham because I knew he would quite rightly tell me I was a fool, except he wouldn’t be so polite.

I knew I would have to be slow and I focused on the Runners World, Get You Round pacing group. They would run five minutes and walk one minute and I thought that if I stuck with them it would help my self-control, stop me going off too fast and hopefully prevent the nail-kneecap scenario. Fancy dress seemed appropriate; it would be a sort of excuse for the slow time, but what could I wear? This is where Indi came in, we’ve worked together for a few years, I’ve trained with her a few times and last year I “coached” her through her training for the Sheffield and New York City marathons, however she is completely mad. She convinced me that Frankenstein would be good and not to worry about a costume, she could sort it out, the writing was on the wall, but not the one I was looking at.

Half an hour before the start I was gelling my hair and having green stage make-up applied to every visible part of my body. I put on my neck bolts, made from flesh coloured plastic and which Cathy had expertly sown onto the waist band of a pair of ladies tights. I couldn’t help but notice the admiring glances I was getting from others. I filled the pockets of my costume, a slightly worn suit, with sweets, camera and my sunglasses. I also took my mobile phone and during the run got a steady stream of calls and text messages from friends and family. It meant I knew where exactly on the route to expect friends.

For the first few miles I stuck with the Get You Round group who were making steady progress but I was finding it hard to run at their slow pace. At seven miles I stopped to touch up the make-up, I wanted to look good in the photos. At ten miles I left the pacing group and struck off one my own. I kept my self-control and stuck to the pattern of five minutes running and one minute walking. I got to halfway in 2:44 and realised just how slow I had run the first few miles. I would be lucky to be back in time to catch the coach at this rate.

The crowd were absolutely amazing; there were times when quiet sections erupted into a combination of spontaneous cheers, applause and laughter when they spotted me approaching. People were cheering and shouting, “Come on Frankie”. Some people shouted, “Come on Hulk”. I politely pointed to my neck bolt and said “Frankenstein actually”. They all apologised. The funniest ones were when I heard people being corrected by their partners – “No dear he’s not the Hulk, he’s actually Frankenstein”. I had celebrity status for one day, now I know what Posh and Becks go through when they go to Marks & Spencer’s. I apologised to the parents of the young kids giving High Fives who recoiled in terror when they saw me approaching. Other children who were giving out sweets gave me their whole packets, cried don’t hurt me mister and ran to their parents. Between 16 and 17 miles I had kids shouting, “Come on Einstein”. Is this proof that the school at the bottom of all government league tables is in Poplar?

I found miles 17 to 20 a real pain, I was feeling fine but couldn’t move at the pace I wanted because of the narrow roads and all the walkers and slower runners. Something I hadn’t thought of before I ran was just how many Lycra-clad women of assorted sizes there are running at the back of the field. It was just an observation, nothing more.

By mile 21 I got my second wind, I “flew” through the Limehouse tunnel and on to mile 23 where

Indi and her family were waiting. I quick chat, photo and a check of the make-up and I was off again. Just after the 24-mile marker I found the Peter, Linda, John and Heidi. Apparently they had had a marathon of their own taking one of Peter’s short cuts from Tower Bridge, which involved scaling the walls of the Tower of London.

I bounced along the Embankment relatively easily then hit my only really bad patch as I turned into Birdcage Walk but by then the finish was so close it didn’t really matter. I finally crossed the line in 5:06 a personal worst but I ran the second half in 2:22, twenty-two minutes faster than the first half and a negative split that anyone would be proud of.

The Chris Gladwell five-hour plan (not recommended for anyone wanting to avoid guaranteed entry into a wheelchair)

Week-ending	Runs	Longest	Total
6 January	Four	9 miles	24 miles
13 January	Four	10 miles	26 miles
20 January	Four	12 miles	28 miles
27 January	Two	14 miles	24 miles

Week-ending	Runs	Longest	Total
24 March	Three	12 miles	20 miles
31 March	Three	18 miles	29 miles
7 April	Three	12 miles	22 miles
14 April	Three	26.2 miles	33 miles
Total	Twenty-six		206 miles

In hindsight and having survived without permanent disability I was very, very silly to run a marathon with virtually no preparation. As Richard says time and time again “You need to get the miles into the legs”.

Thanks to everyone for their sponsorship - £1,400.00 raised for Breast Cancer! My personal target ......... Run all the way and complete in 4 hrs.

The day started at 04.45 a.m. when the alarm went off. I was awake already - this is it, today's the day. First thing, another drink of water, must have drunk 8 pints yesterday. Forced down breakfast. Vaseline in all the appropriate places, running gear on. Walk down the road to catch the Striders coach at 6.00 a.m. On the coach are my fellow runners with their families and friends, there is an atmosphere of nervous anticipation.

Arrived at Blackheath where we were to start from. The coach went off with the spectators to Tower Hill. On Blackheath there were thousands of runners. First priority - find your starting pen, mine was Blue start, pen 7, along with Mary, Lorraine and Maria. Next priority - toilet. Massive queue's and lots of men's urinals, but only 2 ladies loos - typical! Find the right lorry for your kit bag and head for the start. Met up with Jean who had traveled by car, and she was extremely keen to swap her pen 5 number for my pen 7 - thanks Jean - so I headed on forwards to try and locate the runners world 4 hr pace marker.

And we're off! Crammed in the road with thousands of others, walking to start with and finally started running. Must have been about 1/2 mile before we went over the start line and the mats that activate the shoe chips. Press the start button on my watch, at last, 4 hrs or so to go.

Couldn't locate the 4hr pacers, so gave up on that idea. The pace is slow, there's no space to get going in, but hey, there's plenty of time for that later, and the words of wisdom from Richard F. & Co. come into my mind. I hadn't read the newspaper in the morning, but made up for it by reading the runners t-shirts with charity details, names and slogans on - some had a picture of the child they were running for. Spectators were cheering, and soon I heard the first music booming from a pub. In the first few miles there's lots to take in and see, and also to concentrate on picking your way through other runners to keep in some sort of regular pace. I had written my running times for a 4hr finish on my arm, the first being 5 miles at 45.45. Each mile on the route is marked on an overhead archway. At 5 miles, I was on target, which was a pleasant surprise considering the slow start. At 6 miles, a friendly face - Bob, and we kept together for the next 4 miles. Just before 7 miles, we ran round the Cutty Sark, that was nice. At 10 miles, I was a minute or so under target of 1hr 31.30. Feeling good, but decided to take on more water because I missed a few water stops to avoid getting held up or tripped up.

The various bands booming out their cheerful music were very uplifting and I even sang along and ran in time with the beat. 12 1/2 miles, over Tower Bridge. This part was great, packed with spectators and I saw friends and family in the crowd. 15 to 19 miles - feeling it now, legs getting sore, where have all the bands and music gone? I hear the crowd shouting "come on Frank" and it takes a while to register in my brain, before I look round and see Frank Bruno behind me. He's looking tired. Finally the 20 mile marker, that is a psychological boost and still on target, but can I keep it up.

22 miles - ouch it hurts! Only 4 miles to go - I picture 4 miles on my route at home and tell myself that I have only got to run for another 39 minutes, then I can sit down. This is what all the training was for. Each of those last 4 miles went on forever. Legs in automatic mode, listen to the crowd "Well done, you're looking good" - Liars. I'm thinking of Buck House and the Mall; I can't wait to run down the Mall to the finish.

Slightly over pace at 24 miles, I know I'm slowing so must pick it up - it hurts anyway, so a little more pain won't matter. Along Birdcage Walk by St. James's Park, I know I'm nearly there - the watch is getting close to 4hrs. Keep going, keep going. I see the finish line, must remember to lift my arms up as I go through (makes a better photo).

Wow - I've done it. Just let me lay down somewhere - anywhere. Thanks to all the Striders supporters - it makes such a difference to see friendly faces in the crowd.