36,000 people ran over 26 miles on the 21st April. 700,000 cheering spectators lined their path. They called this coming together of people, the London Marathon.
What would an alien visitor have understood from those thumping footsteps that day? What were they all running from? Was it fear chasing them? Or perhaps they were running for something, to reach a goal?
5,000 people received medical assistance on that course. It wasn’t easy. 2,000 people didn’t make it round. So why do we do it? Why do we put ourselves through such pain?
Here’s why I did:
The best days of my life have not been those where I lay in bed all day, when I went shopping and emptied my bank account or the nights I spent drinking which my only lasting memory of was that ‘I must have had a good time.’
I love a good struggle. The adrenalin is better than any alcohol-induced high.
This is something that I find myself being reminded of more than ever at this time of year at LSE. Exams are not easy either, but we do it for the challenge.
I ran those 26 miles to make my Mum proud, to raise money for the children in Ghana whom I love, to prove that terrorism in Boston would not stop me from doing something I love, to prove to myself that I can be something great.
I completed the course in 3 hours and 50 minutes and then I felt proud. You cannot buy pride. But I’ll let you into a little secret, apply for LSE and you might just get your own dose, when you get in.