by Amelia Lloyd London Marathon, 23rd April 2006
We woke to grey skies and cool light drizzle on the morning of the London Marathon. Four of the Sri Chinmoy AC were heading for the start at Greenwich; Hemabha, Bhauliya, Dhavala and myself. This is an account of my marathon experience, from start to finish.
Having never run a big city marathon, the sheer scale of the event and numbers of people travelling to the start was
somewhat overwhelming! I wondered how easy it would be to run at my pace with thousands of other people all
around! The organisation of the London Marathon is, of course, second to none and as soon as I reached the start
area and saw how big it was, and well laid out, I relaxed a little. The drizzle had turned into proper rain by this time,
and kept most of us in black bin bags or plastic windcheaters until the gun went off at 9.45am.
The atmosphere at the start was fantastic. Despite my inevitable worries about the next four hours, I couldn't help but
feel excited and optimistic along with the runners all around me.
As we turned the corner out of Greenwich Park, the start line came into view and a surge of joy carried me over the
line in good spirits. I started my watch and settled into a comfortable, steady pace.
I was in the interesting situation of not having run one step for over a week on account of a bad cold, and had no idea
how my body would react to running a marathon! Two or three days before the race I wasn't at all sure if I should
actually run, but now I felt determined to give it my best shot and see what happened. Anything is possible, after all.
I noticed a runner up ahead who was carrying a "9-minute-mile pace" flag and decided I would get ahead of him.
During the entire race I didn't once check my split times. I just thought, as long as the guy with the 9-minute pace
flag doesn't go past me, I'm doing okay! My friend Bhauliya and I were both aiming to finish in 3:45 - 4:00 but had
started in different areas. We had hoped to meet where the three separate starting routes merge at 3 miles, but when I saw the sheer volume of people running, I soon abandoned all hope of finding her and resigned myself to running the
race alone.
For some time I tried to run along the blue line in the road that marks the shortest route to the finish. It kept my mind
off the distance ahead trying to keep close to the line as it disappeared under thousands of pounding feet.
The support along the streets of London was just unbelievable, and gave me no small measure of encouragement and
joy. Local residents had all come out to cheer on the runners and they seemed happy despite the rain. Some people were using the event as an excuse for a street party and music blared from many houses, streetside DJs and pubs.
There were quite a few live bands too which added to the carnival atmosphere that prevailed those first few pain-free
miles!
The runners around me were in high spirits and had the energy to cheer as we passed TV cameras landmarks, or particularly vocal supporters. There was a friendly, entirely non-competitive feeling to the race. We were all there to run as well as we could, many for charity and some as their first marathon. It was as though we were all on the same side of a team where the other "side" was the 26.2 miles we had to cover.
Turning the corner at around 6 miles to the Cutty Sark tallship was a surprise and a thrill. It stood dramatically
silhouetted against the sky beyond the hundreds of runners on the road ahead of me. In its ancient beauty it seemed
to be watching us all. The sight filled me with joy and I continued on, buoyed a little by the experience.
Shortly after this the route took us under a road bridge, where a drumming band was playing. It was loud and raw and
incredibly energising. All the runners near me enjoyed it as I did; I think I sped up that mile somewhat!
It was the mile after this that I noticed my friend Bhauliya just ahead to my right. We were happy and surprised to
have met each other! We exchanged a few words about our early race experiences but I soon realised that I didn't
have enough breath to run and talk so we ran together, but kept silent, for most of the race. It was very reassuring
having her there.
We ran on, over Tower Bridge, which was packed with spectators, and passed the 10 mile mark in fairly good time.
At around this point I started to feel my legs getting sore; not from fatigue but more the cold I was still struggling to
shake off from the previous week. I prayed that I could be given the capacity to run through the stiffness because I still had a long way to go. Just remembering the true source of the energy that had given me the capacity to run gave me a real boost.
Soon we passed halfway. I was very happy to see the half-marathon mark, even though I know that in a marathon 20
miles feels more like halfway than 13! At this point the course loops around the Isle of Dogs before turning onto the
Embankment for the final few miles. It meant that we could look over to the other side of the road and see the elite
women's race as it approached 21 miles. I looked out for Dhavala who was part of the Elite race and to my surprise,
caught sight of her as she shot past in the opposite direction. That brief connection with another friend from the Sri
Chinmoy AC was inspiring, especially as she was running so much faster than us!
What I had heard about this section of the route proved true - it was probably the hardest part of the race for me. Some parts were a little empty of spectators and even though my ears were glad of some quiet, I missed the support. The route around the Isle of Dogs takes in some disused industrial areas and quite uninspiring streets as well as a road tunnel which felt long, hot and airless. I tried to use my imagination and remembered the peace of the Self-Transcendence Marathon at Rockland Lake, New York which I'd done last August. Sri Chinmoy would drive his golf buggy around the shady lakeside course, offering us his silent blessings and encouragement as we ran. That thought kept me going, and distracted me somewhat from the growing pain and stiffness in my legs through the toughest part of the marathon.
By mile 20, the other side of the road tunnel and into the final section by the river, the support from the crowd
seemed to have doubled. Rows of people, four or five deep in places, lined the course on both sides and gave
much-needed encouragement (and sometimes jellybabies too) to the flagging runners. I gritted my teeth and began
counting down the miles. Each one seemed longer than the last - I was in fact slowing down as my legs felt sore, stiff and absolutely unwilling to run any more.
By mile 24 (2 miles to go!) I began to feel better as the crowds yelled and cheered louder still. The tall, familiar outline of Big Ben had appeared on the horizon and I remembered to smile despite the ongoing struggle. Sri Chinmoy encourages us to smile in an effort to defeat our "enemies"; in this case, the remaining few miles of the race. It helped immensely. I began to enjoy the sensation of nearing the finish line and also being on familiar ground: I run by the river at Westminster sometimes in my lunchbreak. Knowing the area well helped to quantify that strangely long final mile.
The final few metres were simply thrilling. Through St James Park to Buckingham Palace and the finish in the Mall I
was exhilarated and emotional. I crossed the line in 3:50:59 (a PB) and with tears of gratitude streaming down my
face. I could hardly believe that considering how my legs had felt for much of the race, I had run a PB. I give full credit to the Supreme for having given me the capacity to do it! Crying uncontrollably, I stumbled through the finish chute and was helped by a marshal at the other side. "It's okay," I said through the tears, "I'm happy." "I know," she
replied. "You're making me happy too."
What an unbelievable race. I turned round to see Bhauliya finishing just behind me, and smiled. The journey was
over. I hope to remember the experience always!
"My Lord, my Lord, my Lord,
My running is the rose-beauty
And jasmine-fragrance
Of my God-blossoming heart."
Sri Chinmoy
Having never run a big city marathon, the sheer scale of the event and numbers of people travelling to the start was
somewhat overwhelming! I wondered how easy it would be to run at my pace with thousands of other people all
around! The organisation of the London Marathon is, of course, second to none and as soon as I reached the start
area and saw how big it was, and well laid out, I relaxed a little. The drizzle had turned into proper rain by this time,
and kept most of us in black bin bags or plastic windcheaters until the gun went off at 9.45am.
The atmosphere at the start was fantastic. Despite my inevitable worries about the next four hours, I couldn't help but
feel excited and optimistic along with the runners all around me.
As we turned the corner out of Greenwich Park, the start line came into view and a surge of joy carried me over the
line in good spirits. I started my watch and settled into a comfortable, steady pace.
I was in the interesting situation of not having run one step for over a week on account of a bad cold, and had no idea
how my body would react to running a marathon! Two or three days before the race I wasn't at all sure if I should
actually run, but now I felt determined to give it my best shot and see what happened. Anything is possible, after all.
I noticed a runner up ahead who was carrying a "9-minute-mile pace" flag and decided I would get ahead of him.
During the entire race I didn't once check my split times. I just thought, as long as the guy with the 9-minute pace
flag doesn't go past me, I'm doing okay! My friend Bhauliya and I were both aiming to finish in 3:45 - 4:00 but had
started in different areas. We had hoped to meet where the three separate starting routes merge at 3 miles, but when I saw the sheer volume of people running, I soon abandoned all hope of finding her and resigned myself to running the
race alone.
For some time I tried to run along the blue line in the road that marks the shortest route to the finish. It kept my mind
off the distance ahead trying to keep close to the line as it disappeared under thousands of pounding feet.
The support along the streets of London was just unbelievable, and gave me no small measure of encouragement and
joy. Local residents had all come out to cheer on the runners and they seemed happy despite the rain. Some people were using the event as an excuse for a street party and music blared from many houses, streetside DJs and pubs.
There were quite a few live bands too which added to the carnival atmosphere that prevailed those first few pain-free
miles!
The runners around me were in high spirits and had the energy to cheer as we passed TV cameras landmarks, or particularly vocal supporters. There was a friendly, entirely non-competitive feeling to the race. We were all there to run as well as we could, many for charity and some as their first marathon. It was as though we were all on the same side of a team where the other "side" was the 26.2 miles we had to cover.
Turning the corner at around 6 miles to the Cutty Sark tallship was a surprise and a thrill. It stood dramatically
silhouetted against the sky beyond the hundreds of runners on the road ahead of me. In its ancient beauty it seemed
to be watching us all. The sight filled me with joy and I continued on, buoyed a little by the experience.
Shortly after this the route took us under a road bridge, where a drumming band was playing. It was loud and raw and
incredibly energising. All the runners near me enjoyed it as I did; I think I sped up that mile somewhat!
It was the mile after this that I noticed my friend Bhauliya just ahead to my right. We were happy and surprised to
have met each other! We exchanged a few words about our early race experiences but I soon realised that I didn't
have enough breath to run and talk so we ran together, but kept silent, for most of the race. It was very reassuring
having her there.
We ran on, over Tower Bridge, which was packed with spectators, and passed the 10 mile mark in fairly good time.
At around this point I started to feel my legs getting sore; not from fatigue but more the cold I was still struggling to
shake off from the previous week. I prayed that I could be given the capacity to run through the stiffness because I still had a long way to go. Just remembering the true source of the energy that had given me the capacity to run gave me a real boost.
Soon we passed halfway. I was very happy to see the half-marathon mark, even though I know that in a marathon 20
miles feels more like halfway than 13! At this point the course loops around the Isle of Dogs before turning onto the
Embankment for the final few miles. It meant that we could look over to the other side of the road and see the elite
women's race as it approached 21 miles. I looked out for Dhavala who was part of the Elite race and to my surprise,
caught sight of her as she shot past in the opposite direction. That brief connection with another friend from the Sri
Chinmoy AC was inspiring, especially as she was running so much faster than us!
What I had heard about this section of the route proved true - it was probably the hardest part of the race for me. Some parts were a little empty of spectators and even though my ears were glad of some quiet, I missed the support. The route around the Isle of Dogs takes in some disused industrial areas and quite uninspiring streets as well as a road tunnel which felt long, hot and airless. I tried to use my imagination and remembered the peace of the Self-Transcendence Marathon at Rockland Lake, New York which I'd done last August. Sri Chinmoy would drive his golf buggy around the shady lakeside course, offering us his silent blessings and encouragement as we ran. That thought kept me going, and distracted me somewhat from the growing pain and stiffness in my legs through the toughest part of the marathon.
By mile 20, the other side of the road tunnel and into the final section by the river, the support from the crowd
seemed to have doubled. Rows of people, four or five deep in places, lined the course on both sides and gave
much-needed encouragement (and sometimes jellybabies too) to the flagging runners. I gritted my teeth and began
counting down the miles. Each one seemed longer than the last - I was in fact slowing down as my legs felt sore, stiff and absolutely unwilling to run any more.
By mile 24 (2 miles to go!) I began to feel better as the crowds yelled and cheered louder still. The tall, familiar outline of Big Ben had appeared on the horizon and I remembered to smile despite the ongoing struggle. Sri Chinmoy encourages us to smile in an effort to defeat our "enemies"; in this case, the remaining few miles of the race. It helped immensely. I began to enjoy the sensation of nearing the finish line and also being on familiar ground: I run by the river at Westminster sometimes in my lunchbreak. Knowing the area well helped to quantify that strangely long final mile.
The final few metres were simply thrilling. Through St James Park to Buckingham Palace and the finish in the Mall I
was exhilarated and emotional. I crossed the line in 3:50:59 (a PB) and with tears of gratitude streaming down my
face. I could hardly believe that considering how my legs had felt for much of the race, I had run a PB. I give full credit to the Supreme for having given me the capacity to do it! Crying uncontrollably, I stumbled through the finish chute and was helped by a marshal at the other side. "It's okay," I said through the tears, "I'm happy." "I know," she
replied. "You're making me happy too."
What an unbelievable race. I turned round to see Bhauliya finishing just behind me, and smiled. The journey was
over. I hope to remember the experience always!
"My Lord, my Lord, my Lord,
My running is the rose-beauty
And jasmine-fragrance
Of my God-blossoming heart."
Sri Chinmoy
