proud finisher

Aching legs, pounding heart, happy mind. Is that all after a marathon? What stays longer: The pain or the pride?
Find out here:

According to the book you should continue running very slowly for a couple of minutes after a marathon to calm down. Nice theory. In reality there are plenty of things to be done:
First you walk on a small podium, where they take off the chip from your shoe (at other marathons their is a deposit on it. Not in London). Down from the podium you receive the finisher medal. Then you have the opportunity to get an official finisher photo taken of you. I took this opportunity, but finally I liked the picture taken by another friendly finisher with my own camera better.

standing London Marathon finisher; click to enlarge

Next task is to collect your finisher goody bag, containing samples of shower gels etc. but first of all the London Marathon finisher T-shirt.

distribution of finisher bag at London Marathon; click to enlarge

Then a very, very, very long line of trucks is waiting with the red bags.

line of truck with runners' bags; click to enlarge

The friendly helpers not only pick from quite a big number of bags the one that belongs to you - they read your start number from afar -


they also have a very welcome "Well done" to everybody passing their truck. So you hear a lot of "Well done"s until you reach the end of the truck sequence.
Oxfam as the official charity of the London Marathon offered a special service for its runners: A finale reception in the honorable British Academy.


Delegates from the Oxfam team await you and guide you the way.


My accompany had to be very patient. If you have looked closely to the last but one picture, then you know that there are stairs. After the Hamburg Marathon I had slight problems to go downstairs. But after this run I had BIG problems with any step on not level surface, i.g. down- AND upstairs. At least two times I had to stop and fight heavy cramps in my legs while trying to mount the endless flight of stairs. After many painful steps upstairs I finally made my way to the Academy. A group of cheerleaders welcomed me


and also my family and frieds were happy to see me again and alive.

The British Academy looks from the inside as you would expect it from a honorable institution like this.


A big Hello, a nice Oxfam finisher T-shit, a voucher for a massage and a post race meal were handed to me. Bad news: No elevator - and massage and buffet are ready in the first floor. Somehow I arrived there and a strong Irish man with impressive tattoos milled my legs.


As you can see a post marathon massage is not a pure wellness event:


Afterwards I could not bend down more than just to reach my knees with the fingers, so I definitely needed help when changing socks and shoes. My daughter, how had accompanied me upstairs, managed it. I officially awarded her the title of the "marathon runner rescuer".
Finally I was wearing the Oxfam finisher shirt.


The buffet was tempting,


but I only took a small "well done" menu: Tomato soup, apple juice, vegatarian pasta.


After I reached a enhanced level of vitality, I headed back to my accompany. Oh no: Downstairs. At least I am not the only one who needs the handrail...


I learnt that the others waited for me in the garden. I could not miss it.


There a kind of big post marathon picknick took place. Very nice and relaxed atmosphere.


The cheerleaders showed some tricks.


A band played Dixie and Swing.

text

After a sufficienttly long break we all went back (correction: I stumbled slowly back) towards our accomodation. Here another famous place in London with a less famous marathon runner ...


who finally could convert to a couch potato for the rest of the day.


I struggled with plain walking three or more days after the marathon. Walking seems to be so easy for most of us, but in my state some muscles were not able to translate reflex actions, such that every now and then I did very strange movements. I learnt a lot of modesty those days by this kind of body exchange into someone else with a walking handicap. Remarks which I otherwise would have regarded as a bit too educative, make very much sense to me now (picture taken at an elevator in the Tate Modern museum).


In the big hall of Tate Modern Ai Weiwei's man-made hand-painted porcellaine sunflower seeds were on display.
And I admired, envied him for having changed many thoughts and lives. What is my marathon for Oxfam in comparison to that? I was/am only fundraising some money.
Nevertheless: A single pound, a single Euro, a single dollar can change a life to the better.
Some days ago I would have said: Not mine, but the life of someone in a poor country needing every cent. But then my daughter made a present to me, which I know costed her exactly one Euro. The joy about the present made my life certainly better. So please think again before you spend your money. Because the best investment is always a donation - or a present.

Oxfam and Weiwei's sunflowers at Tate Modern; click to enlarge

THE END (almost)

I hope you liked this report and - at least in the case you haven't done it yet - will DONATE NOW FOR OXFAM. Many thanks for this in advance.

Best regards
Clemens

PS I am not saying "never again" to the London Marathon.
PPS
I owe you an answer to the pain-or-pride question at the beginning of this section:
Well, the pain is long gone. But was there ever proud? For me it was more trying to do something good. Not sure, if I succeeded, if I was/am good enough. But this feeling of trying feels good. And as long as I try it may stay.