Category: Seeph vs Marathon

Round Two: The 2018 London Marathon

The 2018 London Marathon was literally the hardest thing I have ever done, ever. It was, almost from the get go, unrelentingly, leg-shatteringly, teeth-grindingly difficult. The warmest race I have ever run, literally the hottest London Marathon on record. A horrendous experience, almost from start to the eventual finish. So why have I entered the ballot for 2019?

Because, as with last year, it was one of the best experiences of my entire life.

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Less than half

After last month’s little diversion into the world of cycling, or more specifically, the sad story of my total withdrawal from it all, it’s back onto more familiar ground this month with my first running update of 2018.

We’re now well over three months into the new year and although spring is only just starting to fully show itself I’ve already got a race in the bag and I’m staring down the barrel of the second. One down, one to go. A half, then a full. Liverpool, then London.

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Realising an ambition: The 2017 London Marathon

I thought I was prepared for quite how big an occasion this would be, but nothing quite prepared for what turned out to be the most brilliantly horrific three-and-nearly-half hours of my life; my favourite ever race.

I’ve waited over half my life to be part of the London Marathon and it was absolutely one hundred percent worth the wait.

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Final destination

I sit here writing this, winding down the training for one last marathon, the final taper period for the one I thought would always get away from me. I’m nearly there. A week today, I’ll be there. Lining up with 35,000 others in a world major marathon for the first time in my life, an ambition about to be realised.

Over a million people have crossed that finish line on The Mall since the first race in 1981, and all being well by around 2pm next Sunday I will be one of them.

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Twelve months on

Anyone who has read this blog over the years will be aware of my annual struggle to get into London, dropping my ballot entry in every April and then inevitably getting the dreaded SORRY! magazine in the post six months later, dashing my hopes and dreams for another year. But, finally, this year, I’m in. I’m there. They couldn’t stop me forever.

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