Simon Alderwick

it’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon

I was drunk when I agreed to it. My wife-to-be, a seasoned athlete, had trained her single life away to have me wrapped around her finger. I wore a mock up fridge (for charity), whereas my 18 carat crush cascaded down the streets of London barefoot. (She said she’d never again wear trainers to a wedding after losing two toenails at her first). Of course, as anyone who’s survived a wedding knows, my nipples were chafed and sore as I clocked my quick-footed bride brisk walk along the Thames path. That night, my wife and I lay together, under an aluminium sheet, eating Mars Bars out of each other’s arms, gulping from the Lucozade bottles that our guests had thrown at us like confetti, when we were face to face with, and broke through the wall, spurred on by friends’ and acquaintances’ screaming, from both sides of the aisle, in the city, in the city where we met and fell in love.

Simon Alderwick lives in Oxford. His pamphlet ‘ways to say we're not alone’ was published by Broken Sleep Books in February 2024. 

Simon wrote the following about ‘It’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon’

The title came first. It came from hearing how marriage can be hard work; it’s not always a walk in the park. Looking at it now, I realise the title refers to a marriage whereas the poem is about the wedding, how this has become a big ceremony, an event, a ritual - something many women plan for, years in advance, whereas a lot of men sign up to it without knowing how unprepared they are! I guess there’s an irony that something as momentous as a wedding is just the starting line of a much bigger journey.