The post marathon week is never easy for me; in the past I have struggled to physically recover as quickly as my mind wanted me to, whilst mentally I have been a frequent sufferer of the 'post marathon blues' effect. What would the post London Marathon 2018 week throw at me?

MONDAY: I slept poorly on Sunday following the marathon and unsurprisingly woke feeling very tired. I tentatively dragged my body out of bed and was shocked to find my legs were not bad at all. My quads are always sore after a marathon, and whilst they moaned a little with each movement I made, it was nothing on the scale of how I have felt after past races. I took this as a positive and had an active day at work walking a high number of miles (albeit at a slightly slower pace to normal!) which helped keep me from getting stiff. The negatives were however my complete lack of appetite and the nagging nauseous feeling I had that did not go away all day. I was also very emotional still - the London Marathon had been an emotive day for me, and it was not easy just to park such strong feelings.

TUESDAY: physically I made more improvements today, I still completed no exercise, but another day with lots of walking and a trip to see my Sports Therapist for a massage kept my muscles in recovery mode. My nausea had shifted but my appetite was still poor - frustratingly when there was justification to be eating anything I liked really! Mentally I felt less emotional after unravelling the race via my blog, but I was still very tired and had a sense of feeling a bit lost and empty.

WEDNESDAY: I knew I wanted to run today and I had an extra purpose behind my choice. I wanted to run 3.7 miles for Matt Campbell who sadly passed away after collapsing at mile 22.5 at the London Marathon. I put on my London Marathon vest and ran an easy loop, in a reflective mood, and finished what Matt was sadly unable to (see image). My legs were good running, some quad tenderness, but nothing excruciating, and I was feeling simply grateful that I was here and able to do this.

THURSDAY: with no ill effects from yesterday's run I decided to lace up my trainers again tonight. I ran two miles to my gym, completed a Body Pump class, then ran home. I kept my leg weights in the class slightly lower so not to inflict extra damage, but otherwise I felt almost normal and my pace was quite steady during my running. It felt good to be in this position; I struggle if I cannot run (my friend prays every day that I never get injured!) and to be back running without discomfort was good for me. 

FRIDAY: I rested today, I did not want to push things, and more importantly I wanted to run parkrun tomorrow!

SATURDAY: proudly wearing my marathon finisher top I headed to my home Lincoln parkrun, unsure of what my legs could do, but determined to enjoy it regardless. It was lovely to catch up with fellow parkrunners after the marathon, and I tried not to get emotional reliving it all again! I went off as normal at the start and as mile one progressed my legs felt great. During mile two things suddenly felt a little harder, with the power seeming to drain from my stride. By mile three my legs had turned to lead and I was left simply trying to keep going as quick as possible - here the real post marathon feeling was coming out! My friend who ran London too had the exact same experience across each mile and we laughed as we shared each other's progressive decline. I still loved it though (see image) and to be honest my 21:11 finish time is something I would never have predicted running so soon after a marathon. 

SUNDAY: today felt like I had stepped back in time a few weeks. On a cool, grey and pretty uninspiring morning I met my friend on one of our usual street corners and we set off for a Sunday long run. It felt surreal that just seven days ago we were weaving through the capital in scorching heat. I actually like the familiarity of it all, as much as I loved the marathon madness of last weekend, a long run chatting to my friend makes me equally as happy. Physically we ran well; we both seemed to hit a point about 11/12 miles though where suddenly our legs went  - what are you doing? So we didn't push it much more. 14 miles at 8.30 min/mile pace a week after a really tough marathon - pretty good effort I would say!

I want to finish by saying a massive thank you for all the lovely messages I received about the London Marathon and to those who read and follow my blog. I like to run and I also like to write about my running, so it is really encouraging to have support - I hope I encourage others to explore their running too. ​

The London Marathon 2018 - quite simply the hardest race of my life so far. The heat nearly broke me, but I fought hard to earn my medal. The day started with tears and ended with tears – but a whole lot happened in between of course!

I will start at the beginning; arriving in London on Friday with my friend it was boiling, no other way to describe it. It felt like we were going on holiday not to run a supposed Spring marathon. We enjoyed a fairly relaxed visit to the expo to collect our race numbers; my friend is not a massive expo fan, but I love it, mainly for the photo opportunities which I like to treasure for my memories! Like an overexcited child I dragged her into photo booths and got her to grin at the camera (she loves it really!) Getting our race numbers early allowed us to enjoy a stress-free Saturday, and the continued warm weather meant it still felt like we were simply on a trip away. I do not think either of us was fully considering the 26.2 miles we had to run the next day yet.
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Saturday would not be the same without parkrun, so we rose early and ventured to find the nearby Southwark parkrun. It was set on a gorgeous park, with spring like flowers gracing the flowerbeds and a beautiful bandstand which was reminiscent of our own home Lincoln parkrun. Funnily enough as we stood and listened to the new runners brief I spotted Betty, a regular at our Lincoln event - a small parkrun world. My friend and I ran around together, three and half steady laps of the park, definitely not asking too many demands from our bodies. It was lovely to soak up the parkrun atmosphere without forcing my legs to go quick, and our beaming smiles, which were captured on camera by the photographer as we finished, summed up our happiness.

The rest of Saturday was spent relaxing, it was very warm again, and as the evening arrived it became apparent that the prediction of this year’s London Marathon being the hottest on record would be true. I had to sit and seriously consider the race now, it was happening tomorrow and there was nothing I could do to change the weather. I had to make a difficult decision in my mind, I knew I had to forget going out for my sub 3:45 time. I felt almost like a failure for accepting this – I had trained so hard for this time and here I was giving up on it before even trying. My friend reassured me I had not failed; I knew she was right, we both just needed to finish, safely and happily. We had actually ended up being placed in the same starting pen, and we agreed to have no plan to run together and just to do our own race. The race would be so unpredictable we didn’t want either of us to feel like we had to react to the other. Again, this was quite a hard decision for me to make, the friend in me wanted just to be at my friend’s side the whole way to look out for her, but the runner in me knew it would just not be wise to commit to anything.

Sunday 22nd April arrived – race day. I woke very early and I was very nervous. I met my friend to get the train to the Blackheath start and just her being there calmed me down instantly. I think I may have worked myself into a real state without her company. We sat on the train and chatted, sharing good luck messages which friends and family had sent to us both, some joint and some individual. Some of my friends who are normally a little oblivious to my running told me they were proud of me, which was really touching, but the message which started London Marathon day with tears was sent from my mum. I read it out to my friend on the train and tears rolled down my face – my mum just got it, everything this race meant to me, everything I worked so hard for, but at the same time she wanted me to be ok, be sensible in the heat and just to enjoy my day. It maybe doesn’t sound a lot, but it meant so much, and I definitely needed a comforting squeeze from my friend to stop me becoming a sobbing mess.

Arriving at Blackheath the atmosphere was calm, which helped keep me in the same state. My friend and I rolled out our silver foil ‘picnic blanket’ and sat on the grass waiting to enter our start pen. As we rubbed sun cream into our exposed skin we could have easily been sat on a beach – a beach full of lycra clad runners and snaking queues for portaloos! The conditions were surreal, and I knew the more intense heat of the day was still to hit as soon as we started to run. Once we were able to enter the start pen my usual levels of pre London Marathon excitement suddenly hit me, and as the big screens showed the Queen pressing her big ‘go’ button, I knew my third London Marathon was about to begin.

As I find is usually the case in a marathon, the first few miles flew by. I was running with my friend, as we had both set out at the same pace, but I was trying to keep my pace in check. Despite my efforts I was already feeling the effect of the heat. It was intense, beating onto my body. I kept fluids high, taking water from every aid station and pouring any I did not want to drink all over my head and body. I was keeping with my friend as pace wise she was running what I wanted to be running – around 8.30 min/mile. I was not feeling great though, although I was trying not to think about it. I did not feel unwell, I just seemed to be working so hard to keep going. At around 8 miles my friend asked how I was feeling. At that point I was feeling scared. I was not sure how my body was reacting to the heat, it was so early in the race still and I was honestly frightened about finishing the race. I didn’t want to say this to her though, I would admit it later, but in this moment, I did not want to put any pressure or doubt onto her. I think I replied the obvious – that I was very hot. The feeling of fear was not nice though and maybe I should have reined my pace in then, but part of me also wanted to keep near my friend in case anything did happen and I could reach out to her for help.

I kept going; I told myself I wanted to run across Tower Bridge with my friend and then I would asses how I felt. The closer I got to the bridge, the more I knew I was going to have to slow down, I was now working much too hard, feeling very warm and getting very anxious about the fact I had not even hit half way. The turn to Tower Bridge always takes my breathe away, its blue arches dominating the skyline and the noise of the crowds hitting you. I tapped my friend on the arm at this point, she thought I was letting her know I was still there, but in reality I just wanted to acknowledge this moment. It was special to be there with her, it meant something to me, and I think I knew I was going to have to let her go after this. As I climbed up the bridge I hugged the left side. My parents had hoped to spectate there and I wanted desperately for them to see me. I spotted my dad first, and as I neared them I was overcome with the urge to go to them. I had not planned this, but I wrapped my soaking, sweaty body across the rails and gave them a massive hug. ‘Keep going’ my mum shouted ‘don’t stop!’ I held them tightly but briefly, I just needed that reassurance from them that I was going to be ok.

I always like to write few final words on race week before a marathon – it consolidates thoughts in my mind, and signs me off almost, ready to focus on running. I share my running and training adventures via my blog, the good and the bad, and I always try to be open about how running truly feels for me.

The London Marathon has given me some of my most treasured life memories; from running my first London Marathon and first ever marathon in 2015 at the age of 23, to supporting my inspirational friend overcome some of the toughest challenges life can present to earn her own London Marathon medal in 2016, and then finally achieving my first sub 4-hour marathon in 2017 – I will never forget any of it. This year I want to add to these memories; both my friend/running buddy and I have a place in the event, and I cannot wait to be able to share the day with her – it feels like a missing piece of my London Marathon experiences so far.

Memories aside, I obviously do have a time in mind, and I have been vocal about wanting to run a sub 3:45 marathon. It is a time which would stand me a chance of getting a Good For Age (GFA) entry into next year’s London Marathon event. It would not be a guaranteed spot, as it has been announced this week that a GFA time now no longer gives you a certain race place. However the time is also part of my wider running picture. I have dreams to run the prestigious Boston Marathon, for which I virtually need a 3:30 marathon time in order to qualify for the race. Therefore, I want to keep gradually chipping away at my marathon time (my PB currently stands at 3:48) to slowly build up to feeling capable of reaching this achievement.

​My training has gone well, and my recent race performances and training run times suggest I am improving as a runner. If I am honest with myself, I think I am capable of running under the 3:45 mark. For me that’s the scary thing; knowing you possess the ability to do something, and potentially having to handle the disappointment if you don’t make the mark. One of the biggest factors which seems will play a part on race day is the weather - the forecast is currently very warm, conditions which I have not trained in at all. I will have to be sensible, and as much as I want that PB, I also want to safely finish the race.

I cannot control the weather, but I have been able to control my preparation, and those of you who follow my blog regularly will know I have given everything to my training; running is a massive part of my life (my friends might even argue it is my life!) and I will stand on that start line knowing I could not have given any more over the last 16 weeks. Regardless of my time, I intend to cross the finish line on Sunday feeling the same; that I could give no more.

The first week of tapering. I hate tapering, and I think out of all my marathon training cycles so far, this has been one of the more challenging weeks.

MONDAY: Body Pump class

TUESDAY: an early morning run in frankly appalling weather. The rain was heavy and constant; within a few minutes of running I was wet through, feet squelching in my trainers. It at least motivated me to get my intervals done as quickly as possible! I ran 5 miles with 10 x 400m reps and 100m recoveries. The recovery period was short, but as the intervals were not too long it felt ok, and I managed most reps at around 7:15 min/mile pace. When I finished running I looked and felt like I had virtually stood in a cold shower wearing all my running gear. Not pleasant. 

WEDNESDAY: I struggled with motivation to go out and run this evening. My plan was for 6 easy paced miles and as I tried to find the desire to lace up my running shoes I was just filled with fear and worry. What if the run doesn't feel easy? What if I injure myself now? Lots of 'what ifs' ran through my head, for reasons I am not really sure! I went out of course, but struggled to keep my run easy; I think the slight anxiety I had built inside me was preventing me from being able to truly relax. I finished with around an 8 min/mile average pace, not really my 'easy' pace, but I felt a bit less anxious for getting the run safely completed at least.

THURSDAY: my worries from yesterday seemed to manifest today and I woke with a slight soreness in my shin. Cue panic. I went out for my early run as planned and tried to forget about it in my mind. Of course it was impossible to forget, and although it did not hurt or affect my running, it affected my mind. I ran a 5 mile tempo run, with the middle miles at around half marathon pace, and although my pacing was good, I just did not feel at ease. I went to another Body Pump class in the evening, where I nearly dropped a 5kg weight on my foot, only saving certain injury by pushing the falling weight away using my thigh. Yes, I do now have a massive bruise on my quad, but at least my precious feet are still ok!

Week 14 - aka the week that is not quite a taper. The training demands have eased slightly this week, although I have probably pushed myself just as hard. My aim going into the real taper weeks is to be a little more relaxed with my running; I do not want to burn out before race day!

MONDAY: Body Pump class

TUESDAY: this interval run was another tough one - 9 miles with 10 x 800m reps and 200m recoveries. It felt like there were a lot of reps to complete, which at half a mile, were quite a moderate distance still. I dug deep though and my interval splits were predominantly sub 7.20 min/mile pace, which I was pleased with. After the 7th rep I did really have to draw on some mental strength to keep going at the same level of intensity though; I literally just told myself this was the final really hard interval run before London and just to get on with it! 

WEDNESDAY: my plan today was for 8 steady miles, and I went out with the aim of running around 8:20 min/mile pace. However, following a bit of a frustrating day, once I started running I felt almost unleashed and I found myself wanting to push harder - literally running out frustration! I finished with a 7.58 min/mile average - not on plan, but I did feel better for it!

THURSDAY: I am a qualified sports coach but rarely don my tracksuits anymore. However today I was called back into action at work for a full day coaching at an Easter Holiday Club with a lot of energised children. It was a bit of a shock to me, I had forgotten how draining it is! Post work I was therefore shattered, but knew I had to run still. Although I felt tired, determination to complete my run and not let fatigue win spurred me on. As each mile ticked by I actually felt more alive. I ran a 6 mile tempo run, with the 4 middle miles at around half marathon pace. I was so pleased with my splits, virtually on target and also consistent, logging at 7.57, 7.26, 7.21, 7.24, 7.23 and 7.31 min/miles respectively.