I got a giant blister on my pinky toe at Mile 25 of the London Marathon!
Alas, only from spectating!
After cheering ourselves hoarse at random strangers for hours, we completely missed Cilla running past us. Luckily some other friends of hers were watching just down the road and we caught their “GO CILLA!” screams.
Phil and I sprinted down the road in the pouring rain to catch up with her. I don’t recommend running in slightly too-big boots. My feet were already protesting from standing around, so our trot down the river bank really did them in.
But seriously now. After years of watching the London Marathon on telly (and blubbing at the tales of human triumph) it was so inspiring and exciting to cheer people on in person. I was in awe of every athlete who went by, whether they were speedy or slow or trapped in an elaborate costume. It takes such courage and dedication to train for a marathon, and I can only imagine how dig you’d have to deep, both physically and mentally, to get to the finish line.
We caught up with Cilla afterwards as she counted her blisters and enjoyed a well-earned champers and bowl of curly fries. I don’t think she’d had time to fully take in all that she’d achieved, but I bet she’ll party hard on the plane back to Oz. Well done comrade!