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Citizen Journalist Gareth Hopkins ran in the Rome and London Marathons. Read about his ups and downs during both events.

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Sunday, 22 April - London Marathon

So just four weeks after Rome and it was time for the big one, 37,000 people pounding the streets in one giant vest wearing mass. My training post Rome was fairly laid back to say the least, involving a few gentle runs along the canal in Warwick, with Taglatelli and malt loaf thrown in for good measure.

The week before the starter鈥檚 gun and legs were still feeling heavy, I blame the cobbles of Rome, however I was confident I would get round, as long as the weather wasn鈥檛 too hot.

Sunday morning, 7.30am alarm call...it was too hot. Friends Carly and Matt had kindly fed me, watered me and put me up for the night in Clapham North, so quick high fives and I left for the tube. After breaking what must have been the world record for number of toilet stops in Central London, I arrived at Waterloo East and caught the train to Blackheath. It was getting hotter by the minute and the train was crammed with nerves and excitement. I had the misfortune to stand 鈥渘ose in armpit鈥� with Mr. Nerves, who constantly reminded me it was far too hot to run 26.2 miles. Mr. Nerves made me more determined than ever.

The longest toilet queue ever

I arrived at Blackheath and headed with the throngs to the start area, where I was greeted by giant hot air balloons, Vaseline sharing, and quite possibly the longest toilet queue I had ever seen, seriously, I would have at least expected a go on the Oblivion at Alton Towers for a queue that length. Still, the Evian was coming out of me no sooner than it had gone in, so I slipped past Superman and joined the back, 9.04am, 41 minutes to race start. At 9.40am the job was done so I headed straight to the start area, and before I knew it, BANG, we were off.

Gareth's supporters

I had my mum and dad, girlfriend and 鈥榟ead of support鈥� Kylie, and friends Gemma, John, Loz, Mark, Carly & Matt all strategically placed around the course, starting at the 13 mile stage, so the first half was all about taking in the sites and enjoying the occasion.

I soon found a steady pace and despite legs feeling slightly tight, I was running with a smile on my face.听This smile grew larger as I clocked Fred Flintstone, The Incredible Hulk, a man with a flower pot on his head, and Count Dracula (who I was quite surprised to see what with the sunny weather conditions). Quick check of the watch past Greenwich and before I knew it eight miles were under my belt.

Half way

I was making sure I drank at every water station as things really were starting to hot up, so much so that some spectators were actually using portable bbqs on the sidelines. So it was with a smell of sausages in my nostrils that I approached Tower Bridge and the half way point.

What a sight. Tower Bridge has to be one of my favourite landmarks, and as I turned to cross it the crowds were 5 or 6 rows deep, with mum & dad having secured a money-spot right at the front half way across. It鈥檚 hard to describe just how motivated you feel when you see someone you know en route, it truly does spur you on. Gave mum a quick slap of the hand and a 鈥渃ome on!鈥� at dad and I was gone.

Gareth during the race

My legs were really starting to feel heavy around the half way point, a lot earlier than normal. Think this was partly due to the heat and partly due to the rest time between the two marathons, either way I did start to worry slightly. Some runners had already started to walk, which my head refused to be an option, so I just carried on, one foot in front of the other.听

I knew Kylie & co were at Canary Wharf just after the 18 mile mark, I just focused on that being my next goal. Before I knew it I was running through the finance capital of the country, then I heard them before I saw them. Kylie, Gemma and Carly in high pitched unison, I ran up to them and grabbed them, not sure they appreciated my royal saltiness in hindsight, but it was a beautiful moment. Matt & John shouted at me to keep going which is just what I did. Legs were really starting to hurt now and in my head I was thanking my mum for being a mum and forcing me to bathe in factor 50 sun cream.听 This was the stage where I needed the support the most; the next eight miles were going to see my brains go man-o-man with my quads. Not nice.

The final straight

Past the 22 mile mark and I was spotting jelly legs more frequently, and several people in some serious bother. I only hoped I wouldn鈥檛 be joining them. I passed Whitechapel and kept telling myself this is the final straight, all be it 4 miles long. The crowds were unbelievable at this point; the last ten miles had been a medley of steel drums, bands, and people singing to Abba on pub balconies. The noise now was unbelievable, so much so I missed Loz & Mark screaming at me by Waterloo Bridge.

All my support was concentrated along the final 2 miles, I began to allow myself to believe that with their help, I would cross the finish line. Along Embankment it was frenetic, fellow runners wore looks on their faces somewhere between sheer pain and sheer determination, mine included. I know I did see the support team past the 25 mile mark opposite Big Ben, however I was a long way past the high five or salty hug stage, a clenched fist and a grimace was all they got this time.

The final mile lasted an eternity, to be fair I was in agony, but from somewhere within I just managed to keep going...and there it was - the final corner and a giant 400m to go sign, I clocked my mum and dad on the right hand side and felt like crying but was so dehydrated nothing came out. The finish line appeared ever closer and my body no longer felt like it belonged to me.

I upped the pace and looked around at the crowd swearing to always remember this moment, knowing I could soon stop. Arms raised I crossed the line I stopped my watch, it read three hours 21, one minute outside of my Rome time but as if that mattered 鈥� I felt like crying again before hugging the woman who placed the medal around my neck. Strangers congratulated each other and shared their stories of the last 26.2 miles, people helped others with cramp and there was a sense of great, great achievement hanging in the air.

Enjoying the moment

I stumbled towards Trafalgar Square to meet everyone, finding a nice spot in the shade to cramp up in, but after the exploits of the previous three hours, a bit of cramp wasn鈥檛 going to stop me enjoying the moment.

In keeping with my two other London Marathons, this one ranks up there as one of the best days of my life, incredible support, incredible friends and incredible people proving impossible really is nothing.

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