Thank you to one and all for your amazing support for this wild endeavour! I am happy to say that your faith was not entirely misplaced and the day went well, a resounding success really! Through your generosity, we raised just over €1000 euro for the project, and this will go a long way to helping with our work next summer.

Well, I would be lying if I said it was easy. I’d even be lying if I said it was hard. It was somewhere farther up that scale! I have to be honest and say that I had my (valid!) excuses lined up for not finishing, but once on the starting line, I realised that there was no turning back and this was one challenge I had to see through to the end. Truth to tell, I was somewhere between giddy and petrified, this was 50% farther than I had ever ran, and the 28 KM I had done to Tara in Ireland had really broken me!

We set off 13 minutes after the “Elite”, but I was never one to be superstitious (he lies...). Once on the road, I settled into my usual pace and it was really quite pleasant, the sun was shining but was not too hot, the road stretched out nice and flat before us and within 35 minutes we were at the Tomb of the Athenians who had fallen exactly 2500 years before this race. What a moment! I had teamed up with another Irish lad called Denis, and we trudged along in good cheer making quite good time. At about 9 KM, the chafing on my right leg got annoying so I had to pull in at a medical station and get some gel, Denis had continued on chasing a 4 hour finish, and I leapt back on the track.

The kilometres were being eaten up and before I knew it, I was at 21 KM, the half way line, and I was feeling a bit muscle sore, but confident. I decided that at 26KM I would take a brief walk and eat something, drink water, regain my drive a little. This went well and I hit the road again going at a good pace again. Then just after 28 KM, things took a turn. Boy, they took a turn!

I had heard of the “wall” but never really appreciated what it was. All the carbs and “ready energy” are burned up and you are left with nothing. Your legs become lead and simply will not move. I thought, ok, if this was 38 KM, I would laugh it off, but I had another 14 KM to go.

The rest was what the marathon is all about. Endurance. Fighting through the pain, and yes, it sounds like an 80’s movie saying that, but if you have ever run a marathon, you know what I really mean. Every muscle aches so much it wants to contract up and seize on the spot. You are too hot. Your core temperature is raging and there is no way to cool down, no matter how many bottles of water you throw over your head or sponges you use. For those who do not know this circuit, it is reputed to be the most difficult standard marathon in Europe – the first 32 KM are up-hill and by 10.00, we were running in 22 degrees (in the shade) heat.

I had been hoping that once we reached 32 KM and the land levelled off and even sloped gently downhill that my speed would return. Those of you who know me well, know I had my wedding and honeymoon finishing just 3 weeks before the race and I had not trained all summer due to excavations. As I said at the start, there could be no excuse, this race had to be finished, but this meant that the energy reserves and stamina I should have been able to call on were simply not there. So I was well and truly short on the physical needs to finish this race. I even started listening to these excuses floating around my head, but I had made a commitment to myself and everyone who was supporting me, so they were all expelled.

On I trudged, and boy, was it trudging! One leg forward, then the next. By 36KM I was a complete state. I passed two unfortunates between this and 38 KM who just could not make it, and were been taken away on a drip. This was serious stuff I think I recall saying.

 Once I hit 38 KM, I knew I could do it. Then another short but steep uphill hit me. I faltered. It actually terrified me. I had no choice but to walk this one, and I continued walking for another 2 KM. I knew that the pain of running was little more than the pain of walking, but it was enough more to stop me. That said, I was not going to walk in past the finish line. I refused to go in like that. So at 40 KM I pulled myself back in line and set off at a slow trot.

Amazingly, within 1 KM of the finish, when I was in familiar territory in Athens, I felt good again, some hidden store of adrenaline creeping out. I kept up the pace, people cheering either side and I crossed the line.

Only minutes later did I recall ignoring when my right knee had given out a short while before, and my injured foot (I had pulled ligaments 10 days before the race) came trundling back into my mind and then the pain came. It must have taken me 10 minutes to get to the medal area, the leg just kept buckling. I managed to find it funny at this stage because the deed was done. The pride and joy were overwhelming any ouchiness!

I had finished the 2500 anniversary Athens marathon and knew that I was sharing a special joy and pride with the other 12,500 people who had raced that day. What an experience!!