Thames Meander
The forecast was for 45mph winds and lashing rain - again. For the third month out of the last four, I’d signed up for a marathon in storm conditions.
November was the 11th of my 12 marathons in 12 months with John. We had chosen the Thames Meander which starts in Kingston-Upon-Thames and winds along the river towards Hammersmith and back.
The journey there was eventful. We had a coming together with another car on a roundabout just a few miles from our destination. Thankfully there was limited damage to either car, and we arrived at 8:30 in the pouring rain. The marquee where we collected our bibs was being buffeted around by the gusts.
Our plan had been to arrive before 9am and run the Kingston parkrun before the marathon itself. (Un)fortunately it had been cancelled, and so we headed to the gym next door to watch the start of the rugby World Cup final instead. The room was soon crammed with runners in lycra and bin bags.
At five minutes to ten everyone started exiting into the ferocious storm to line up at the start for the briefing. People were visibly shivering as they went through the course and rules. Finally, we were sent on our way.
We began with a short section running south for a mile with the river on our right. This took us through Canbury Gardens. We then doubled back on ourselves and headed north back to the start. The route then continued north with the river on our left where it stayed for eleven miles as we headed north-east towards the centre of London.
We passed Teddington Lock and Ham Lands nature reserve. The river path was bordered on either side with trees resplendent with their colourful autumn gold, red and yellow leaves that also carpeted the floor and floated on the deep puddles as we splashed through. The wind couldn’t be felt beneath the canopy and it soon stopped raining. The worst had passed.
John was setting a good pace and we were doing sub 8-minute miles. My stomach was cramping, and I was regretting the three coffees and two bananas I had for breakfast, but I decided to stick with him as long as I could.
The path turned to the east now, passing Eel Pie Island before turning north again. We ran beneath Richmond Bridge and Twickenham Bridge. A group of people were outside the pub, so we shouted for the rugby score. “England lost!” came the reply.
The next river island was Isleworth Ait, a London Wildlife Trust reserve. It reminded me of the children’s programme Abney and Teal where two rag dolls live on an island in a city with Neep the turnip, Bop the furry seal, Toby Dog and the Poc-Pocs, small comma-shaped wooden objects. I couldn’t see them anywhere.
Approaching half-way and we were set for a sub 1:45. Not bad. My initial aim had been a sub 4 hour. I was now beginning to consider a sub 3:30. I felt good. My stomach not so much, but my legs were turning over well and I wasn’t having to push too hard. We were running with a couple of other people going roughly the same pace.
We were now running alongside Kew Gardens heading north-east. At Kew Bridge the river turned south again past Chiswick and towards Barnes. Once under Barnes Bridge we again went north and then made one more turn south under Hammersmith Bridge to the London Wetland Centre – which it certainly was.
Here was the midway turnaround point. There were drinks stations all along the route with food also available. We had a drink and a chia bar here and carried on. Soon we were back up to pace. My head felt funny and I realised I probably needed salt. John had some peanuts and passed them to me, but it was a bad handover and they went crashing to the floor. This broke my rhythm, but the peanuts worked a treat.
John was still pushing us on at sub 8 pace. With seven miles to go we stopped again for water and food. I was keen to get going as I now had a goal in mind. John was still eating so I shouted for him to come on and set off. I could hear footsteps behind me for a while, but when I looked, he wasn’t there, it was another runner.
My legs were turning over at a good cadence and I was beginning to think a PB might be on offer, so I kept going, now at 7:20 pace.
My PB was 3:27.12 achieved in Paris this April. I had run 3:24 in Manchester in 2015 but the course had been short by 200m and all times disallowed.
With five miles to go I was hurting but determined. Could I go sub 3:25? I reminded myself that this is when the training really kicks in. By now I was overtaking all those who had passed us earlier on. At the turnaround point I had been 60th, by the end I would finish in 33rd place.
At this point my running nightmare came true. I have a recurring dream that I am winning parkrun but with no one to follow I don’t know the route and take a wrong turn. I end up finishing when everyone else has gone home.
The Thames path continued straight, but another curved off to the left. I was sure we had exited from there but there was no one ahead of me. I took the turn and then lost my nerve. I had to wait for the person behind me to come along to check. They went straight on along the path. I quickly headed back and resumed my race. Damn!
Now I had to put my foot down. 5 miles. OK Adam, just 30 minutes of pain and a bit to go. Less than two parkruns. I kept up the self-talk. In the back of my mind was John’s marathon PB which he achieved earlier this year of 3:24. Could I beat that?
After what seemed like an eternity, I saw the finish line ahead, but I needed to make it a mile to Canbury Gardens and a mile back before crossing the line. My teeth were gritted, and I couldn’t feel my legs, but I gave it everything over those two miles. It was going to be touch and go.
I crossed the line making an unearthly noise and with every muscle screaming. I had stopped being able to breathe properly and collapsed to the ground. 3:23.
Where did that come from? Sometimes PBs come when you are least expecting them. The St John’s Ambulance man came and checked on me and I was congratulated on my finish by a few people. Crouched on my knees panting and spitting I couldn’t respond but I appreciated their words. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to have a heart attack. It would have spoiled the day.
