Because one stressful life event isn't enough...

So on friday I became Dr Chris, then sunday I made it to Dr Chris the marathon runner... all in all a very strange week. The viva was stressful, but I felt reasonably in control for most of it, and it wasn't too bad. Afterwards, I was happy and relieved and felt this strange urge to work hard and write lots of scientific papers. That feeling evaporated pretty quickly- the last drops vanished yesterday when I got my corrections back- they are fairly nasty. I was hoping to have them done by Christmas but it doesn't look like it will be possible. I'm trying not to think about it right now, I'll make a decision when I'm back home. Southampton was a bit of a shock after Laramie; I've never had a screechy obnoxious southerner shoulder barge past me in small town america, but it was really, really nice to see some friends.

I had the perfect excuse not to get drunk after my viva- the Snowdonia marathon looming on sunday. I spent saturday on a train then dad drove me to Llanberis where we spent the night dossing in a car park in his camper van. I was nervous on sunday morning when I went to pick up my timing chip. This wasn't helped when the woman cheerily handed me a leaflet with 'Britains toughest marathon' written across the front. Something small inside me whimpered.

The marathon wasn't all that bad- the spectacular views definately helped take my mind of the pain of this crazy thing I was doing. I ran a steady 11 min/mile for the first half, but it got exponentially more difficult as I got tired, and all thoughts of breaking 5 hours went out of my head. The first 4 miles where uphill, and I managed to run most of it- it was satisfying to overtake some of the people who'd burned past me in the first mile when they were walking knackered up the first big hill- the altitude training definately helped! After that we had 9 miles of steady descent, which was very welcome. I was able to relax and look around and run for me rather than the clock. A very nice feeling. The traffic was a pain, and I had moments of intense pain and a few 'mini-walls', but I never seriously thought I wasn't going to make it. The support was brilliant- people in laybys, locals and passing cars were all very positive. Even the other runners took time to say well done and chat a bit. The worst bit was the descent into Llanberis- very steep and painful for sore joints. A woman in pink hurtled passed me wailing something about not being able to stop and vanished around the corner in a blur of lycra. I overtook a couple of lads who tried to chat me up in broad yorkshire accents. They lost interest when I warned them not to get downwind of me..

I finished after 5 hours 14 minutes and went to rest and drink tea with dad. I never had a serious moment of 'I can't finish this' or 'never again'... maybe I ran too slowly... maybe it was just the right thing for me to do at the time. I really enjoyed it.