Advertisement
Topics
Hot stuff
Newsletters
Promotions
Party central
From party frocks to invites and Christmas cocktails, we've got everything you need to throw a fabulous party
From party frocks to invites and Christmas cocktails, we've got everything you need to throw a fabulous party
Charity runs
continued from page 2
The big race
The marathon starts in Greenwich at 9.30am. My biggest fear was oversleeping, so I stayed with Malcolm the night before. By the time we reached the starting point in Greenwich Park, I was feeling a flutter of excitement. Due to the number of people taking part (33,000), it takes about 12 minutes to cross the start line. An electronic tag inserted in your shoe registers your take-off. There are secret check points throughout the race that keep track of your tag and ensure you've actually completed the course, rather than cheated by jumping on the tube.
The organisation of the event is phenomenal, every mile there are water points and every four miles, energy drinks. The crowds are what really keep you going though. Kids wait with a hand out to touch you or give you sweets. When I was feeling bored, grabbing as many jelly babies as possible kept me amused. The other bonus of the crowd is that you sense their disapproval when you start walking. Indeed they tend not to call out your name, which most people write on their t-shirts, if you're not running. Not that many people called out for me - with a name like Charity, there was bound to be some confusion.
After 11 miles of jogging with Malcolm, I decided I needed a bit of a walk. Left to my own devises, I adopted a walk-run policy. When I found myself being overtaken by a centipede propelled by six pairs of hairy legs, I decided it was time to run again. And when I got stuck with Elvis, who was hogging all the limelight, I shot off again.
By mile 15, my legs were in pretty bad shape, so when I spotted some runners being massaged on the side of the road, I thought I'd get in on the action. It turned out to be a neuronetic massage devised by Ron L Hubbard (sci-fi author and founder of the Church of Scientology) and the very friendly lady attending to my weakened limbs was a Scientologist. Slightly freaked out, but rather enjoying the 10-minute lie down, I listened eagerly to the wonders of Dianetics. I gave my old address to a man with a clipboard and ran off.
Passing the London Arena at mile 17 was a bad moment. I had been there a few days previously to register for the Marathon and it had taken a good 40 minutes by tube. At mile 20 I passed the Tower of London and realised I was actually going to finish, if not in the four and a half hours I had optimistically predicted.
When Big Ben appeared round the bend in the Thames, a wave of adrenalin kicked in. Here the crowds were solid and particularly vocal. I had a corny image of myself running in slow motion in Chariots of Fire as I pelted it round Parliament Square and up Birdcage Walk. I spotted Tracy waving from outside Buckingham Palace and then ran through an arch of balloons to collect my medal. I made it in 5hours 35minutes. Paula Radcliffe won't be quaking in her trainers, but I was quite pleased. Not one single blister, no bleeding nipples and only a vague stiffness the next day.
The big race
The marathon starts in Greenwich at 9.30am. My biggest fear was oversleeping, so I stayed with Malcolm the night before. By the time we reached the starting point in Greenwich Park, I was feeling a flutter of excitement. Due to the number of people taking part (33,000), it takes about 12 minutes to cross the start line. An electronic tag inserted in your shoe registers your take-off. There are secret check points throughout the race that keep track of your tag and ensure you've actually completed the course, rather than cheated by jumping on the tube.
The organisation of the event is phenomenal, every mile there are water points and every four miles, energy drinks. The crowds are what really keep you going though. Kids wait with a hand out to touch you or give you sweets. When I was feeling bored, grabbing as many jelly babies as possible kept me amused. The other bonus of the crowd is that you sense their disapproval when you start walking. Indeed they tend not to call out your name, which most people write on their t-shirts, if you're not running. Not that many people called out for me - with a name like Charity, there was bound to be some confusion.
After 11 miles of jogging with Malcolm, I decided I needed a bit of a walk. Left to my own devises, I adopted a walk-run policy. When I found myself being overtaken by a centipede propelled by six pairs of hairy legs, I decided it was time to run again. And when I got stuck with Elvis, who was hogging all the limelight, I shot off again.
By mile 15, my legs were in pretty bad shape, so when I spotted some runners being massaged on the side of the road, I thought I'd get in on the action. It turned out to be a neuronetic massage devised by Ron L Hubbard (sci-fi author and founder of the Church of Scientology) and the very friendly lady attending to my weakened limbs was a Scientologist. Slightly freaked out, but rather enjoying the 10-minute lie down, I listened eagerly to the wonders of Dianetics. I gave my old address to a man with a clipboard and ran off.
Passing the London Arena at mile 17 was a bad moment. I had been there a few days previously to register for the Marathon and it had taken a good 40 minutes by tube. At mile 20 I passed the Tower of London and realised I was actually going to finish, if not in the four and a half hours I had optimistically predicted.
When Big Ben appeared round the bend in the Thames, a wave of adrenalin kicked in. Here the crowds were solid and particularly vocal. I had a corny image of myself running in slow motion in Chariots of Fire as I pelted it round Parliament Square and up Birdcage Walk. I spotted Tracy waving from outside Buckingham Palace and then ran through an arch of balloons to collect my medal. I made it in 5hours 35minutes. Paula Radcliffe won't be quaking in her trainers, but I was quite pleased. Not one single blister, no bleeding nipples and only a vague stiffness the next day.
previous | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | next
printer friendly
send to a friend
This iVillage Health service area is designed for educational
purposes only. You should not rely on this information as a
substitute for personal medical attention, diagnosis or
hands-on treatment. If you are concerned about your health or
that of a child, please consult your family's health provider
immediately and do not wait for a response from our
professionals. For the full Disclaimer,
click here.
RATE IT
Delicious
Digg
reddit
Facebook
StumbleUponYou need the newest version of Macromedia Flash Player to view this feature. Download the Flash plug-in at http://www.macromedia.com.
Pregnancy & Baby |
Parenting |
Health |
Diet & Fitness |
Beauty & Fashion|
Relationships |
Home & Garden |
Food & Drink |
Work & Career |
Entertainment 
Horoscopes| Message Boards | Quizzes | Newsletters | Join
© iVillage Limited 2000-2008. All rights reserved. | © iVillage inc. 1995-2008. All rights reserved.
iVillage Ltd is a UK company registered in England & Wales (3837269) at 80-110 New Oxford Street, London WC1 1HB
iVillage Ltd is a UK company registered in England & Wales (3837269) at 80-110 New Oxford Street, London WC1 1HB
