Well, that was chastening. I ran my first marathon this morning and I now fully understand why it this event is such a test of human endurance.

I thought I was prepared, I thought I would acquit myself well, but this all fell by the wayside around the 35km mark as any strategy, pacing, or just general awareness of my surroundings fell away in favour of simply keeping one foot in front of the other and making it in the general direction of the finishing line on Avenue Foch.

 But, let's back up somewhat. Saturday evening was spent preparing equipment, nutrition, and ensuring my checklist was fully ticked.

This was followed by a good night's sleep with an early start so that I could be in Paris an hour before my starting time of 09:20. The organisation was impeccable, the atmosphere was electric, and I really felt prepared, something I always struggle with before races.

I started well, keeping a steady pace of of 00:04:50 per km all the way to the Bois de Vincennes, all the while enjoying the roadside music and dancers, and the fantastic spectators.

Things went haywire, however, as we left the city and entered the Bois de Boulogne for the last 10k or so. I didn't just hit the wall, I fully embraced it. I had to will my legs to keep going and slowed down considerably, to the point where any thoughts of maintaining a decent time were soon forgotten. Perhaps this is par for the course for a first marathon, but I seriously struggled.

I did manage to finish on a high and had a sprint finish on Avenue Foch, but it was difficult to find any pleasure in the whole experience, apart from the general atmosphere and involvement of everyone concerned.

It was a long journey home, with cramps and light-headedness, but the welcome more than made up for the gruelling experience.

I think I'll try to pen some more thoughts on the overall marathon experience in the cold light of day but for now, all I can say is cheers/santé and here's to the next race (a real Royal Run, and a lot shorter than a marathon...)!