Zoe’s 2015 Virgin London Marathon Muses

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…


Touch the Pain