Twenty Six Points, Tooze

So, yesterday I ran the London Marathon. My body is a bit broken, and my heart and my mind have gone in a number of directions leading up to, during, and since the run.

Me, thrilled (if slightly surprised) I'd finished!

The headline? I’m really chuffed. Details below:

The training

As most people following my progress will know, I was originally due to run this a year beforehand, in April 2024. On my last big training run, something went in my leg, and I tried to run through it – big mistake. I was gutted at the time, but knew I wouldn’t be able to run on the day, so deferred.

This time around, I downloaded a ‘Beginners’ training plan – hoping that I might actually follow a training plan properly for once if I kept my expectations manageable! This seemed to work, up to and including a last big training run around a month before the marathon – a nice naturey one, where I saw many nice birds.

The week after, I started my taper (a series of shorter and more relaxed runs in the immediate lead up to a big distance, designed to let your body recover while still remembering the distance). Three quarters of the way into this, and AGH. My calf twinged, much as it had a year ago. I limped home, stretched and rested during the taper window, hoping beyond hope that I’d recover in time for the big weekend.

A nice beetle I met after my calf exploded

The fundraising

This took some work, but it happened! I’d secured my place through Mind – I chose them as I believe in them. My mental health has always been a bit up and down, and I think a society, with education and healthcare systems which focused on this more, would have done me and some of my dearest people a whole lot of good. But we’re in the situation we’re in now, and things still aren’t great. Through working with vulnerable people in York, and in my counselling training, it’s become all the more clear to me that support for peoples mental health needs to be better. Mind are doing great work on this, pushing nationally, delivering locally, so they seemed like a great fit.

I got to about half of my target the first time around, and then put things on a bit of a pause – there was quite a bit of shame attached to getting people to donate for a run I didn’t even do! Then, and now, I understand this shame isn’t necessary, people understand, and that no-one thinks they’re ‘buying a run’. But it did hurt, and it meant my initial fundraising in Attempt 2 was a little more sheepish.

Thankfully, people in my life were able to donate – all donations were appreciated, and the revenue from my (very miniature) Dungeons & Dragons online DMing helped top up the pot. I was really touched to see donations from people in different places in life and the world. Special mention to Rory from my counselling course, who tipped the fundraiser over the target shortly after the run!

The weekend of the run

My parents very kindly put me and Abi up for the long weekend we stayed for the run. Here I did all the usual – last minute comms, prepping my kit for the day, eating far too much pasta, and going for a little ‘shake-out run’ the day before the race. It was during this shakeout run that my leg gave in after 15 minutes, and I had to hobble back through Croydon – leg full of tension and pain, mind full of doubt and worry. If I couldn’t run for 20 minutes at a relaxed pace, what chance did I stand on the day?

As it turns out, a decent one.

Despite some worries about whether it was wise to even try running, I went along to the start. I was aware that I’d advise someone else in so much pain not to take the risk, but I had to – for my supporters, but also myself. I’d rather have crashed out and quit on the day than not even tried. In my mind, if I got to the halfway point at Tower Bridge before pulling out, that would be amazing.

So, I went, I joined the hordes at the start, and tried running. It worked for the first kilometer. And then twenty more. I didn’t really know what was happening – I could feel the tension in my right calf, but I felt in control of it. Buoyed by the crowds, I was able to run at a consistent pace for the first half – perhaps my most consistent ever, weird given that my leg was in such a state!

Just over Tower Bridge, as if it had been eavesdropping on my catastrophizing the night before, my calf went weird. Not full weird, but weird enough that I knew it wouldn’t be safe to force myself to run. And so I spent the second half running intermittently, paying attention to my body, only moving to an occasional jog when my leg was ready to.

The support was amazing – I’m glad I made the effort to put my name on my top, as people cheering your name is so powerful. Yes, I kept getting confused and thinking strangers knew me. But I felt the excitement, love, and community all along the course – which might have played a part in me running so well!

I was really chuffed some pals, my dad, and Abi came to cheer. The idea that I might see them on the route gave me a reason to keep going until I did, and the energy they gave when I saw them helped me keep on going.

I felt emotional at lots of points during the race – increasingly due to the pain that went up and up during the race, but also from the people supporting, both familiar and unfamiliar. Again, when I started running through Greenwich and Woolwich, I was overwhelmed because people thought I was worth supporting, and because I was actually moving. Towards the end, there was an incredible relief – that I had done this for those supporting me, for donors, and myself. I really didn’t think I was going to get there.

I picked up my medal, then headed home. I felt a bit wobbly, a bit poorly, but also triumphant. As a super insecure person, I’m always telling myself about the things I can’t do, or the things I did wrong, but finishing this (the training, the fundraising, and the marathon itself) felt something good I couldn’t deny.

I know there’s a part of me which could pick holes – what if I’d trained better, run faster, anything like that. But I know that I achieved something that will stay with me forever, and nothing can take that away.

What next?

I’ll be a bit grateful for a break from running, for a little while. But I’m excited to get out and do more exercisey stuff in the coming months.

The training for this marathon has been really important over the last couple of years – I’ve been going through rapid and big changes in my life, and going to university each Tuesday (for counselling training including ‘Circle Time’ or ‘Thunderdome’ depending on my mood).

The running has given me space to think, reflect, and absorb, while also giving me chances to see nature and places I might not have ended up in otherwise.

But for the next few days? Rest. And keeping my medal on!

I'm sure there's stuff I've forgotten to write here, but I wanted to make a record of where I'm at right now. If you've made it through - well done you! And yes, apologies for the title (I'll use fatigue as my excuse for that!)

If you'd like to add to my fundraising for Mind, you can do so here: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/DomTooze