Once you’ve got your medal, your foil cape, and your apple, the real challenge begins: walking to the pub. The finish is in St. James’s, which is a posh area. Pubs like The Red Lion on Duke of York Street or The Cask & Glass on Victoria Street become informal rehab centers.
You will see people walking like they’ve just been born. Legs wide apart. Arms stiff. It’s called the "Marathon Walk" and it’s hilarious to watch (and painful to do). You’ll probably sit down, stand up immediately because your hamstrings are screaming, and then sit down again. It’s a dance, really.
Most importantly, every runner crosses the same line. The world record holder and the fancy-dress runner dressed as a phone box both finish on The Mall. The elite athlete might be home by 11 a.m. You might be finishing at 5 p.m. in the rain, getting a medal from a volunteer who has been cheering for seven hours. It counts exactly the same.
