Running the marathon is an intense experience and although each person has slightly different reactions there are a few common themes that crop up time and time again…
When you cross the line, you’re immediately overcome with a tsunami of emotion. You don’t know whether to laugh, cry or scream with joy.
When you collect your medal, you feel like an Olympic champion, and expect the national anthem to break out at any moment.
That was the worst experience of your life; you’re pretty sure this has to be worse than childbirth (whatever the wife says).
That was the best experience of your life, better than the birth of your first child.
You begin to sense the scale of your achievement and crack a smile.
You then realise how much pain you’re in.
Your loved ones greet you, and yup, you get all bloody emotional again.
Your obligatory social media post goes up on your timeline. Anyone who doesn’t ‘like’ it, will be getting de-friended in the morning.
You don’t care about refueling with healthy nutrition; you just want to sink a pint so bad.
You eventually get to a pub, sink that pint. And, immediately, you’re hammered.
You realise you’re ravenous.
You and your loved ones hit the local curry house, safe in the knowledge no amount of calories you eat now will undo the work you did today.
The entire evening you wear your medal and recant different stories from different points of the race.
Any chance you get to slip in the fact that you ran a marathon, you take it. Jill at the checkout doesn’t care, neither does the random guy on the bus trying to get off, but you tell them the extended version anyway.
You eventually get to bed feeling half-cut, proud, very tired and in a lot pain. You fall asleep straight away.
