How I Smashed the Marathon World Record - Whilst Wearing a 40lb Pack

How I Smashed the Marathon World Record - Whilst Wearing a 40lb Pack

On 17th April 2011, I smashed the globe record by over forty minutes for the quickest ever marathon carrying a 40lb pack over the 26.2-mile course of female parent London Marathon. Legendary contestant and former "Red Beret" Parachute Regiment soldier Paddy Doyle had set the record, unbroken for twenty years, with a time of four hours forty two minutes. My quest was to obliterate that, aiming for a time of sub 3 hours 30 minutes. I wanted a challenge of a unique standing. I realised I could meet this challenge, on my own, outside of the armed forces and to push myself to find new limits. I tried to adhere to military discipline.

My preparation included shorter races, increasing in distance from 10k in November 2010 to 20 miles at Stafford and, about half way through my race training, I broke the world record for the 13.1 mile half-marathon with 40lb pack at Stratford Raceway with a time of 1 hour 36 minutes 56 seconds. This build-up was geared so I would peak on the day of the London Marathon.

On 17th April 2011, I smashed the globe record by over forty minutes for the quickest ever marathon carrying a 40lb pack over the 26.2-mile course of female parent London Marathon

At the London Marathon, the pace varies according to other runners but you don't have to wear military boots or face much by way of hills. Nothing in my extremely varied time in the armed services, even my training with the Special Forces, could adequately have prepared me physically for running that sort of distance at that pace with a pack in the oppressive heat and the crush of other runners. There are many independent variables in a marathon but I left as few as I could to pure chance. I was facing strong competition from Capt. Barry Stoddart, a parachute regiment-trained Physical Training Corps officer who was carrying half my pack weight, who I met through Keith Donkin, and became friends with, and from 39-year-old intelligence officer Tim Artus, a lightning speed RAF marathon champion whose personal best was 2 hours 35 minutes. Nobody could have wanted this record more than me. I got up at 5am on the day, with all my planned food and liquids. We set off at 7am (myself, Keith Donkin, a few of his athletes and a few currently serving military athletes). All my supporters were probably only just getting up. I dared not carry the pack, for the 45 minutes tube trip from Waterloo station to Greenwich park start line green, I wanted to save my energy; the answer....a luggage trolley!

From the station to the walk in the park, was such a surreal experience. Something that will never happen again. You could feel the atmosphere grow, smell the dew in the grass as the place was warming up and see all the giant blow up adverts. I realised this is it!

Meeting other runners from Keith's world at the bandstand, I went to get my pack weighed with Guinness - still two hours till race time. From the start, there were thousands of people lining the route chanting my name or "Packman" every few seconds as I passed, yet I could not take my mind off the race, or my eyes off the course, for the fear that the pack-carrying competition might pass me at any time. That thought remained until after the race was over. It was win or nothing.

At 16 miles, I hit my wall in Millwall. I had to think in short distances - go the next A mile, the next mile, all the time trying to pick up speed. In my head, which felt as if it was about to detonate, I was roaring to myself "Once a Marine, always a Marine" and songs from my favourite band Queen as my glycogen level depleted to near-zero. Running the next few miles was the most difficult personal challenge that I've ever faced. The twenty-mile marker passed, still over six miles to go but by now my mood was lightening. The crowds were becoming louder, making an almost tangible roar as we passed and willing us on. I realised that my legs were now pumping away quite efficiently on automatic pilot. I couldn't stop if I wanted to. I had passed three hours thirty on the Embankment, which I was desperately hoping to beat but I needed to hold something back for strong finish. Four hours loomed on Birdcage Walk. I sprinted the last 400 metres. One life, one shot. I had broken the 1991 record but had marathon champion Tim Artus beaten me to it?

I put my green beret on as soon as I crossed the finish line, slowed to a halt and sat on my Bergen pack, utterly exhausted. It was all over. I'd done everything I could. This was a new level of the Commando test - the fifth level. I drifted into the Guinness World Records tent for perhaps the most surreal incident of the day. I asked about my time - 4 hours 1 minute 17 seconds. Capt. Barry Stoddart, carrying 20lb, tore his hamstring along the route and had come in at just over 4 hours 20 minutes. Then I asked about Tim Artus's time. He had finished in 4 hours 34 minutes 59 seconds. Not even that close - and I had been in mortal fear of him sprinting past me for the past five hours. I jumped up and down like a demented Rottweiler, yelling and punching the air. The GWR staff continued to operate their computer terminals, utterly oblivious. They'd probably seen it all before.

Sir Richard Branson met me to present my certificate. I thanked him for sponsoring the Marathon telling him what I had achieved there. I told him that I had read all his books - he replied "Lee, I really look forward to reading yours". He lifted the Bergen pack and was dumbstruck. I walked away with my pack, to continue my journey elsewhere. At the post-marathon party, it was an honour to receive congratulations from Major-Gen. Sir Evelyn Webb Carter, the CEO of The Soldiers' Charity. Paddy Doyle, record-holder since 1991 sent gracious and warm congratulations on my achievement of breaking his long-standing record. A great compliment from a great man.

For today, job done.

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