Paris Marathon 2013 – Annette Nixon (Time 4,27.05)
It’s Saturday morning and still in the dark.
We’re off to Ashford for our Paris venture to start.
There’s 8 of us going and 7 will run;
My hubby will master the metro with fun.
We’re in Paris in no time and everything’s fine,
And our hotel was right on the Paris metro line.
The expo we went to, our runner numbers we claimed,
And signed DRR on the great wall of fame.
Sunday morning is on us, but not much sleep was a had.
An attempt at some breaky; hope today’s not too bad.
Running gear is attired and essential bag is all packed.
Off on the metro; bet tonight I’ll be wacked.
To complete a marathon is today’s major plan.
I’ve put in the training and I can do this, I can!
With Phil and Martin’s voices in my head going round,
The faith they have in me, I won’t let them down!
Stood in our starting pen, my last wee I have had;
Ivan looking dapper with his Irish hat on his head.
Stop/start motion to get to the start;
The adrenaline was causing a fast beating heart.
The plan was to stick with the 4.30 marker,
And Ivan kept warning me to not to go faster.
Before halfway my hubby did appear,
My emotions were high and I fought back a tear.
The first half went slowly, but felt good in myself;
It felt good to be running and not stuck on a shelf.
The sights I admired and Ivan’s a star!
My water he fetched, we were gonna go far.
My husband appeared again on a bridge.
The crowds were amazing; bet there are beers in the fridge.
Ivan and I were ticking away all those miles.
My face seemed to hold a crazy continuous smile.
At 21 miles I started to slower,
But one last gel would give me the remaining last power.
The last water station was a confusing state,
Ivan went left and I faltered to wait.
With no Ivan in sight I started to worry;
Thoughts of our time, should I stay or should I hurry?
On this last mile I felt all alone,
But I knew Ivan was with me, in front or behind?
The final kilometre my grin was so wide;
The finish came closer with each final stride.
Ivan was back with me, we were never really apart.
He’s a gentleman, a hero; my marathon tart!
We celebrated loudly and my hubby we saw,
Loads of collapsed bodies all over the floor.
An emotional reunion, a hug and a kiss,
That Leela was waiting – the mischievous Miss.
We opened the champagne; like a lady I drank,
Straight from the bottle then slumped on the bank.
I loved that marathon, truly I did.
So proud of my body, and what it just did.
A weekend in Paris, with my friends, I love you!
Just one question to Leela “was that really your poo?”