Solitude of a City
Zoe’s marathon experience 26th April 2015
There are many reasons to take part
All that work towards the start
It’s ok – I have time
It’s three weeks until the starting line
All is not quite as it seems
From all those TV coverage dreams
Selfless until the end
But beware the mind – as it may just bend
It’s race day and so to the start
Focus, it’s a delivery of the heart
Thousands there, runners’ heaven
Ten, nine, eight, seven…
Every inch it’s carnival fever
London’s people are more than just eager
The elitists dash and set the pace
And slowly it’s clear it’s more than just a race…
Humans running through the crowd
Drums, bells – it’s so very, very loud
At every turn they’re there, scores deep
And through the pack I quietly creep
Energy bars and water stations
All run through with little patience
Lubes, gels, sugar and gums
It’s all for the take on this marathon run
Is this the busiest place on earth?
Everyone sharing the capital’s turf
And gradually I find my wings
Amid the city’s ugly and beautiful things
Mile markers come and go
People everywhere – fast and slow
i-Pod in, i-Pod out
Either way you can hear them shout
Cutty Sark, and Tower Bridge appear
I’m clapping and joining in the cheer
An all race high on the bridge
Then I teeter over an unseen ridge
Beer, bars, bands and no cars
London Town seems strangely afar
Now in the deafening silence I hear
It’s the beating noise of my very own fear
Keep going and I’ll make it under five
And the thought of Rome keeps that pace alive
I’m sure I can do closer to four hours
As I run through Docklands’ Ivory Towers
Under 10k to go at mile 22
But that’s not reflected by my view
I start to look inside of me
And frankly I don’t like what I see
Then from nowhere I get hit…
Death, pain, past and more shit
Why didn’t I see that coming?
I cry and cry… and keep on running
Legs become like puppet strings
And I question all reliable things
This is unrecognisable as a run
The pain and confusion are not fucking fun
I’ve never ever felt so small
So is this what they call ‘the wall?’
Tears and sweat keep my pace
Of my starting self there is no trace
My mind says get over this crap
But my heart’s pain is running… like a tap
No one else looks in mental pain
But hey, mental or physical – it’s all the same…
Parliament Square, Big Ben and the last mile
I make myself put on a fake smile
Past the Palace and towards the Mall’s line
The last few yards are an eternity in time
The medal goes on and ticks life’s page
Maybe this represents the end of a stage?
Maybe I’m ready for another marathon run
The challenge – next time to make it just fun…
There is a bigger moral picture of course
The innumerable funds of which it is the source
So – now at least 40 kids will eat
And thanks to that achievement this demon I’ll defeat…