Day 9: Opera, Buffets, and a Rainy Long Run!

-

A night at the opera, a leisurely breakfast, and a long run in the rain — that’s how Day 9 of my London Marathon 2025 training unfolded. Each element brought its own flair and challenges.

A Night of High Notes

Let’s rewind to Saturday evening when I checked off a major bucket list item: experiencing La Bohème at the Royal Opera House. Thanks to Kelly’s thoughtful planning, I was treated to Puccini’s masterpiece, a spectacle of soaring arias and heart-wrenching drama. It was an evening of pure magic, where the music seemed to hang in the air like a spell — or perhaps like one of those particularly persistent Christmas songs that refuses to leave your head in January.

Buffet Bliss and Carb-Loading

Sunday morning brought the joys of a hotel breakfast buffet, which, if you ask me, should be classified as an Olympic sport. With marathon training as my excuse, I embraced the concept of carb-loading with a hearty selection: sausages, bacon, hash browns, bagels, and croissants. It was a feast fit for a runner preparing to face the day’s challenges.

Unsurprisingly, my indulgence delayed my long run. When I finally ventured out at 1:30 pm, I was greeted by weather that could only be described as “quintessentially British” — cold, wet, and relentless.

The Rainy Long Run

Marathon training, as every runner knows, is as much about mental toughness as it is about physical endurance. And there’s nothing quite like a rainy long run to test both. With my trusty Garmin Forerunner 955 on hand to track every soggy step, I set off on a steady plod through the puddles.

Long runs this early in the training plan are deliberately slower than my target race pace — about 30 seconds to a minute per kilometre slower, to be precise. The goal is to build endurance gradually without overloading my body. Each kilometre felt like laying a single brick in the marathon wall, except this particular wall was being built in the middle of what felt like a tempest!

Looking Ahead

Tomorrow, the delicate juggling act of work, family, and training resumes, heralded by the return of the dreaded 5 am alarm. The marathon journey is like an opera in its own way — a grand tale of highs, lows, and a fair bit of drama. Unlike opera, however, no one claps when you finish a run in the rain. But maybe they should.

Onward to Day 10 — and hopefully, slightly drier adventures!

Location: Sittingbourne, UK

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Day 117: The Countdown Begins – With Bubbles, Cable Cars and Freeze-Dried Yoghurts

-
Image
An Alarming Rest Day The first of my rest days arrived with the cheery chirp of a 6am alarm, because apparently, my brain hasn’t received the memo about the whole “rest” part. Still, there was a strange satisfaction in rising early knowing I didn’t have to pound the pavements today. That satisfaction was slightly dampened—much like the weather—by a particularly excitable pollen count. Despite the persistent drizzle, the air was clearly full of microscopic mischief. The antihistamines made their valiant appearance and were taken with gratitude and a mild grumble. A Journey Worth the Cable Car This afternoon marked one of the most exciting rituals in the London Marathon build-up: collecting my race number. It involved a drive to the O2 followed by the delightfully surreal experience of sailing across the Thames in a cable car, which felt a little bit like commuting in a Bond film if Bond wore Asics and carried a protein bar. Upon landing on the other side, the Excel centre welcomed me...
Read more

London Marathon 2025: The Final Chapter

-
Image
Morning Light and Marathon Dreams Today was the day I had been building towards for months. Every cold morning, every soaked pair of socks, every long, lonely run came down to this — London Marathon day. The alarm clock chirped far too early, but I was already half-awake, running through the plan for the day in my head. After polishing off two cinnamon and raisin bagels (because clearly one was not going to be enough) and a strong coffee, I packed up my bag of gels, SaltStick chews, and hope and we set off. The drive up to Blackheath was filled with that strange, electric mix of excitement and anxiety. My parents did their best to drop me as close to the start as they could and I waved them off with a grin that hid the fluttering nerves underneath. I made my way to the starting area, ticking off the necessary pre-race rituals — most importantly, joining the epic pilgrimage to the toilets, where I was reminded once again that there are few places in life where dignity is checked at t...
Read more

Day 30: Canterbury 10-Mile Race - A Yardstick for Progress

-
Image
The Morning Rush Sunday races always mean an early start, and today was no exception. Arriving in Canterbury at 8 am, I was immediately thrust into the trifecta of pre-race rituals: parking, collecting my race number, and navigating the inevitable toilet queue—an experience that can feel like an endurance event of its own. It was a bitterly cold morning, hovering around 2 degrees. Dressing appropriately for a race in such conditions is always a gamble: the first few minutes will chill you to your core, but once you’re moving, layers can become an unnecessary burden. After a quick, if not particularly effective, warm-up, I bumped into a friend, Ben Holliday, whose detailed analysis of local cricket diverted my attention from my frozen fingertips. Perhaps distraction really is the greatest warmth. The Race With over 1,200 participants, the start line was a jostling crowd, all shuffling for position like biscuits in a tin. The initial bunching, while slightly frustrating, provided some re...
Read more