As Bostonians might say, “no rest for the wicked (not so very fast) runner.”
No time to rest, as a terrible Jamea Bond title might read. For runners are forever chasing the next mile.
From a sunny day to a cold front bringing dark clouds and a chilling, rolling spittle of rain, the London Marathon proved both slightly better weather and slightly less successfu than Boston 6 days ago.
Six days. My legs only just stopped cringing at the seemingly never-ending stairs in the London Underground stations. I used to recover faster but alas the years and mileage keep taking their toll. No wonder the grey hairs are more white that fleck my stubble.
In any event, though my odometer has either cycled past or flipped back over to zero, the race is done and I’m off and running once more.
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How it started… blue skies and sunny days…
The clouds roll in; darkness, the temperature, and the rain falls… and my hair looks worse and worse throughout. Not that I’m vain. Oh, who am I kidding? I’m so vain I probably think this blog is about me…
The race is on…
Just before the halfway point, a crossing of Tower Bridge (NOT London Bridge as that dude in Arizona who bought “The London Bridge” thinking it was this one, and only after transporting it to America and “unpacking” the rather boring concrete bridge did he realize his mistake).
London Running… (Note: these might be out of temporal order… I uploaded pics last night and am posting this from the Luton Airport and everything’s jumbled in my media library):
The Tower of London… you kinda have to squint to see it behind an advert for the Pride of London.
Running along the Thames… at the tone you will be about a mile from the finish. Bing bong, bing bong. Bing BONG, BING bong…
Hashtag: TeamMeghan.
The end of the line… for now.
While I missed my cheer squad from Boston, I did catch up with Ed and Eileen from our Kilamanjaro days.
And that is that. Back on my feet once more. Off to the next thing. No rest for the wicked by any definition.
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ADDENDUM
Things I passed along the way… and all things that ultimately passed me. “Big Fred” was going for a World’s Record as Fastest National Monument (the record was 3:34 I think and he was well ahead of my 3:32:14 finish as he passed me around mile 22).
And let’s be honest… this guy’s only doing it for the banana.
He beat me too. F’in Kevin Minion.
Run Kevin Minion. Run.