An Archaeologist running the London Marathon
On the 26th of April of the year 2026, 59830 people completed the 26.2 miles that constitute the London Marathon. It was one of the many world records beaten. And I was fortunate enough to not only be a witness to history, but also to be part of it.
My experience on such historical day could not have been more perfect. Everything went well and smoothly. The day was bright and warm. The atmosphere was electric. I could not wait to start. But, before, I took a minute to reflect. 14 years ago, when I moved to the UK, I was alone and emotionally broken. That day, I was neither alone nor emotionally broken. I have the job I always wanted, friends and a beautiful girlfriend. And I was about to embark on the challenge of a lifetime.
Running through the streets of London was magical. The people were behind the runners, and we all joined in a massive celebration. It was the epitome of what the human race can do when it focuses on what unite us instead of focusing on what divide us. My girlfriend and I soaked up every bit of positive energy from the crowd. It was glorious.
Soon, the sights started coming. Greenwich, the Maritime Museum, the Cutty Sark! But the best was yet to come. When we arrived at Tower Bridge, the crowds roared at unison. I raised my fist into the air and, as one, like a general in army rousing his troops for a final charge, the people cheered and screamed. We had been running for a while at that point so, fatigue and pain in my quads was setting but, at that instance, I forgot it all. I had a rush beyond belief. And after that, The Tower of London! I cannot describe the feeling of running in front of such significant landmark. One was to be there to experience it.
Between kilometres 30 and 40 I struggled a bit. Mental and physical fatigue made their presence felt. Luckily, I had my girlfriend with me, and we kept each other motivated and distracted. After that, we found the crowds and the energy and electricity returned. It was a crucial moment for us. We had overcome the wall and now we were facing the end of the road. We had done it. Only 2.5km more to go. We could feel the roar and electricity of the crowds and a second wind filled us with enough energy to run faster than we had done all day (according to our respective Garmin). We ran past Big Ben, and I raised my fist again in defiance. I had done it. I had run the Marathon. I was elated. But the best was yet to come. In the distance, we could see Chris Hodgson and his fiancé were waiting for us close to the finish line, spurring us on. We turned and we saw Buckingham Palace and, to the right, the finish line. I started laughing maniacally and screaming in triumph. We were mere meters away from glory! I had my favourite song in my ears (Ghost Love Score by Nightwish) and it was ending at my favourite part when I was finishing the race (exactly how I pictured it for months!). I was holding my girlfriend’s hand. We crossed together. We had done it! When I picked up my medal, I ask the handler if I could hug him and he said yes. I embraced him full of sweat and emotion. I then called my brother and my mum, yelling, I DID IT! I DID IT! Afterwards, Chris was waiting for us at the spectator’s meeting point. Happy, does not even begin to describe how I felt.
And that was my marathon experience. Thank you for letting me share it with you!
