26.2
By Jane Scoggins
I didn’t feel fit. I was anxious, and nervous.
I took deep breaths. I felt sick. I put
one foot in front of the other and hoped for the best. I was jostled,
surrounded by noise from thousands. I began to move forward. I got into a
rhythm. Blue sky. I kept going. People around me still jostling. Some running,
some jogging, some dressed weirdly attracting attention. I jogged on. Right and
left people behind barriers shouting and calling, hundreds of them. Banners and
waving arms. I jogged on. People passed me by, running. It was a warm day, my
mouth was dry. I jogged on and on and on. An hour gone. I can see the Cutty
Sark. More people passed me, some older, some younger. I slowed to a walk.
Ahead a table with bottled water, I took one. I carried on. Over the river Thames,
and a sign saying HALF WAY.
Towards Docklands I was so weary. I ate a protein bar. My legs were tired. I
walked on. I wished it was over. I carried on in a dreamlike state, willing
myself to continue. I found mental
strength from somewhere in my depths. It kept me going. I shut my mind to
everything, including tiredness. It was hard but I was determined now. I
stopped for another drink of water, must keep hydrated. I sucked on a barley
sugar. I looked at my watch. Three hours had passed. I was surprised I had
survived this far. It gave me incentive to believe I could carry on. My feet
were tired as well as my legs, but no blisters. I was pleased with myself. I
found myself smiling back at people. I was determined. Four hours passed. My
legs were heavy. I often slowed to a walk or stopped altogether. I was hot,
There were others around me dawdling same as me, we gave each other
encouragement with a smile or kind word. It felt good. Eventually I saw a huge
sign ahead that read WELL DONE, ONLY 5 MORE MILES TO GO. I felt rejuvenated. I
was determined to enjoy those last five miles. I was going to make it after
all. Tower Bridge
and the roar of the crowd was amazing and incredibly loud After more than six
hours I was approaching Buckingham
Palace, The Mall and the
finish line. So happy to have made it, I shed a few tears as I received my
medal from a smiling official who saw my exhausted happy face and gave me a
little hug of congratulation. My legs were weak, my spirits high. Putting the
surprisingly heavy medal around my neck I gave it a kiss and held it up to the
sky and whispered ‘For you Max’. Max was a fit twenty six year old when he died
suddenly from a heat attack. He will be forever missed and loved. I was running
for him in aid of Cardiac Risk in Young Adults. CRY.
Copyright Jane Scoggins
