In the past few weeks I’ve been stopping in my tracks and thinking; why, oh why did I apply for the London Marathon?
A number of reasons why I thought it was a stupid time for me to apply bubbled up in my mind whenever I was reminded of receiving the result soon. I’ve just bought a house with my partner, meaning all of my spare money and time will be invested in that, do I even have time and money to invest in training for a marathon? Training in those dark, cold nights will be hard. Really hard, I thought. Despite the fact I haven’t ran for a fair few months now, not properly, and I’ve definitely never ran anything over 10K.
And so my doubtful mind went on… and I thought, I bet this is the year I get in on a ballot entry. I could actually feel the dread growing as I visualised seeing an acceptance into the ballot letter. “SHIT” would probably be my first reaction. Or something stronger.
When the time came and I saw that packaged fleece and magazine near to my door, I was nervous. It was facing down, as it always seems to be, and my heart was beating when I started to peel it over to reveal to myself either the ‘Sorry’ or ‘You’re In!’ message plastered over the magazine. I felt very tense.
The first thing I saw was yellow. ‘Sorry’. A glum looking female runner. Typical, I huffed and threw down the magazine back on the table.
This year was the third year I’d applied for the London Marathon, and the third year I’d failed to get in. In previous years I hyped myself up with ideas of vlogging my marathon progress, seeing myself going out on long scenic runs in the countryside and racking up the miles on the Nike Running app.
Although I felt this year didn’t feel like a good time, I thought I’d feel relief if I saw that ‘Sorry’ magazine again. I was wrong, what I actually felt was the same as I did the previous two years when I saw that five lettered word; determination.
Applying for the London Marathon (again)
I’m determined to apply for the London Marathon once again again (when the ballot opens next year). My determinations was/is mixed in with the images of me training, talking about training, researching about training, buying a whole new running wardrobe, figuring out which foods to eat, when to run, where to run. But most of all, seeing images flash into my mind of marathon day, feeling like I’m bricking it before starting the race, the tears I might cry when I felt I couldn’t go on, to the visualisation of running that last mile with Buckingham Palace in my sights.
Because that’s really why I apply for the London Marathon, not because I’m fanatical about running – I’m not a great runner! I hated it in school and I’ve only really taken it up in the past 3/4 years. But there’s something about the London marathon which would feel like a great achievement I’d want to complete in my life, even if it’s just once. Why London? I’m British and it’s my capital, I’ve also lived within it and loved it dearly (and still do). And it’s supposed to be the best.
So well done to all the lucky ballot entrants who got themselves a place. I hope you laugh, cry, love and hate every minute of training to make getting past that finishing line a memory you’ll certainly never forget.
This year, I’ll have to lump for a 10k race instead.