No this isn’t an excuse to
play a Youtube clip of that classic mid-90s banger from Billie Ray Martin, it's some of
my thoughts on the last couple of days.
So, on Sunday I ran a Marathon. I ran it quicker than I had run a Marathon before, but not quite as quick as I’d expected
to.
But the race report can wait
for another time.
Sunday needed to happen.
Sunday had to happen. Londonhad to show the world that there is a way forward, out of the darkness. As
runners, we were running for the entire city, maybe for the entire running
world. We weren’t going to be cowed, we weren’t going to be beaten. Each
footfall was the sound of a runner shouting “You don’t win. We do".
On Sunday, London wrapped it’s Loving Arms around the running
world and said “Don’t worry, we’ll all be okay.” It roared like a Lion
alongside the crowd along the Embankment. It comforted the lost and
despairing and said “You’ll get there, hold on.”
There were Loving Arms
clapping at the start, in support of all those affected by the events in Boston. The same arms
that had pinned Black Ribbons to their running outfit, and possibly wiped away
tears of sadness in the preceding days.
There were the Loving Arms
of family and friends who let out massive cheers as I went by in various states
of focus or distress.
There were the Loving Arms
of a runner, Nev, who put his arm around me at mile 19 when I was starting to
think it was all over and said “stick in there, I know what it’s like, you can
do this”.
There were the Loving Arms
of my coaches at mile 20 who could see the battle I was having and allowed me
fight them on my own terms.
There were the Loving Arms
of the RunDemCrew Cheering Station where I guy shouted my name with such
passion it spurred me on for a further mile.
There were the Loving Arms
of the lady who took my hand in Parliament
Square and ran the penultimate 800m together.
Finally, there was the
Loving Arm of the guy on the baggage truck who insisted on shaking my hand and
said “thank you so much for running today”
London, I Love You Back.
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