“How can you run the London Marathon while also running for re-election?” That’s the question people have put to me over recent weeks. “How on earth have you managed to fit in all the training with campaigning?” The short answer is I haven’t. People often talk about the loneliness of the long distance runner. But I wouldn’t know. My marathon preparation – pounding pavements with Labour activists on the general election campaign trail – has been anything but lonely.
I managed to carve out time for three decent training runs around Barnsley, but otherwise I had to make do with some gentle jogging in between doorsteps. It left me just hoping I’d make it round the course OK rather getting anywhere near my personal best. “Oh you’ll be fine,” people said. “You used to be in the army.” All I could do is smile, knowing that my military training would only get me so far.
I wasn’t planning to run the race this year, and the fact that the marathon was only 11 days before polling day seemed like a fair excuse to hang up my trainers for this year. That changed though when Cancer Research UK was announced as the London Marathon’s official charity for 2015. Like many people, cancer has touched my life, and I’ve always run for Cancer Research UK in my previous marathons. When the phone call came to ask if I was going to run again this year, I couldn’t bring myself to say no. I’ll grit my teeth and drag myself round, I thought.
But the experience of joining thousands of people on the streets of London always proves to be anything but painful. There’s something special about the London Marathon. It’s much bigger than a sporting event. It’s a carnival of goodwill, bringing people together from across the country and all over the world. Being on the starting line is like standing in an enormous bubble of optimism. You’re surrounded by so many people hoping to fulfil their hopes for the race, all brimming with determination to raise vital cash for causes close to their hearts.
What makes it unique is the support you receive. It’s like running through a wall of supportive noise from start to finish, with complete strangers calling out your name (because it’s on your vest). It’s impossible not to pick up your step when you hear someone you’ve never met shouting: “C’mon Dan – you can do it!” That said, it was still hard going. By the time I reached Westminster I had rarely been so pleased to see the Houses of Parliament.
In the end I finished in 3 hours and 44 minutes – just behind my dad, who is turning 71 this year and skipped round two minutes quicker. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was definitely worth it. London Marathon runners have raised more than half a billion pounds for charities since the inaugural race 34 years ago. It’s so easy to take for granted the transformative impact that so much money raised by so many people has already had on so many worthy causes.
About 112 people will have been diagnosed in the time it took me to run from Greenwich to Buckingham Palace. Cancer causes more than one in four deaths across Britain, but cancer survival has doubled in the past 40 years. Thousands of lives are now saved every week thanks to pioneering research led by organisations such as Cancer Research UK.
Hopefully the small amount I’ve raised will help bring the day when we beat cancer a little closer. If you’d like to make a donation, you can still sponsor me at justgiving.com/Dan-Jarvis1. Time now to get back to the other marathon in my life – campaigning for a Labour government that will safeguard our NHS for the future and ensure all patients have access to cancer tests within one week. I’m back out on the doorstep today. My legs are a bit stiff, but I’m proud to have been a tiny part of one of the greatest events on the planet.
