‘I did it!’ Andrew strikes the ‘traditional’
finisher’s pose, medal in mouthAs I arrive at the finish line – past the announcer who shouts out your name as you finish and into the arms
and cameras of those supporters who have done their own endurance challenge in waiting for me – I am
shattered. But I’m also buzzing with the excitement of being here at all.
Before the race, I’d told people that I’d be happy just to finish; to some I’d confided that I was aiming for
under two hours. In the end I not only finished but did so much faster than I’d thought, with everything
over in an hour and 38 minutes. That puts me almost exactly in the middle of the almost 1,200 people who
did the same event. I’ve never been happier to be average.
Walking through the end you’re handed a medal and a finishers’ T-shirt, and later on I’m handed a pint. (I
haven’t drunk for the two weeks I’ve been training, which in itself was a rewarding challenge). Thousands of
people stream past me and those people who once felt like my opposition now feel like friends, each of us
foolish enough to try this entirely unnecessary but wholly wonderful exercise.
Less than a day later and I’m frantically researching my next race, my next foolish challenge. I’m thinking
about entering for the London Triathlon next year – except at the Olympic distance this time, which is
twice as long, and perhaps with a little more preparation. They warned us about not swallowing the water
out in that swim, that we could catch something. It turns out I did: I’ve got the bug.