“If that was a real fire alarm, you would be dead”
Marathon day began with a rude awakening at 1.30am, as the fire alarm in our hotel went off, I spent ages in a confused state before realising what was going on. It stopped shortly after, and Nick rang down to reception, to confirm it was a false alarm. Not the best start to the day.
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I was up early to foam roll and stretch and then headed off to Old Trafford for the race. It was really easy to get the tram to the start of the race at Old Trafford, and there was a big race village with loads of toilets and portaloos, so the queues were pretty quick-always a bonus. I lined up in between the 4.15-4.30 pacers in the “pen”, and we crossed the line only a few minutes after the gun went off.
I felt quite strong through the first few miles, as the course went through a series of out and backs, and it was quite enjoyable to watch the faster runners go in the opposite direction.
Headphones were banned in the race but I was a bit naughty and put one earphone in from the 4 mile point onwards, I still had a open ear to hear the amazing support throughout the entire route. I did see one woman who was wearing beats, which I thought was mental, those things hurt my head after a while. The course was so dull and boring that by the time I reached 4 miles I needed something to keep me entertained!
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I was feeling really solid through the first 13 miles, and went through at around 2.11, with really nice even splits for the first 13 miles. I had a few gels and they settled ok in the stomach. I kept grabbing the water pouches all along the route to pour over my neck and face as I was really struggling with feeling too warm. Despite the terrible forecast, we had barely a drop of rain for the entire time I was out there, although it did hammer it down about 10 minutes after I had finished.
Miles 14-15 is where I started to slow down a little, but I was still feeling ok, Charlie spotted me at this point, it was nice to see her, and have a quick chat, before she sped off to complete an awesome 15 minute negative split!
Due to the weather forecast we had decided that Nick would just come down for the finish, and I have to say despite being surrounded by thousands of people, and all the support, it did feel a bit lonely out there at times. Sometimes it’s nice to expect someone at a certain point, and it gives you a boost. I just felt a bit lost on my own, particularly when the going got tough.
The course was relatively flat, a few inclines and bridges, but it had to be the dullest course I’ve ever run in my life, all road, nothing to look at, the crowds were amazing, but it was just monotonous. I genuinely can’t think of one interesting thing I saw on the route, I think I largely just zoned out. Maybe some people aren’t interested in scenery, but I think it’s one of the best parts of running, so if you like running where there’s lots to look at, whether landmarks or beautiful scenery don’t run this race.
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I hadn’t ran over 13 miles for 9 weeks, so I was into uncharted territory and this is where it all started to go a bit wrong. I had a twinge in my hip, I could feel a really sore cut forming under my little toe, and my legs just felt empty, this led to miles 18 onwards being absolutely brutal. In my first marathon in Dublin 2012, I never stopped running once- but I was in much better racing shape and had much more consistent training behind me- here I hit, what I now realise is probably the wall, and I just had to stop and walk, I couldn’t carry on any more. I felt like a bit of a failure, as I never stop and walk during runs, but it just had to happen, I had nothing left. I couldn’t physically keep going.
I had to play a game with myself where I would tell myself to run the next mile then walk for a minute. When I got to 20 miles I literally had no idea how I was going to do another 10k. I was working out in my head what my time would be if I had to walk the entire last 10k, and I kept working it out as I whittled down the miles- another thing to occupy the mind.
I had to stop every 0.5 mile to walk for a minute as it got nearer to the end. I stopped just after mile 22 for a toilet break too, as my stomach started to feel really dodgy. At my next walk break, I got into a complete state, and ended up ringing Nick and telling him I was exhausted and had nothing left, I think just to hear someone’s voice was nice in a way, and I knew he would be at the finish, and it didn’t matter if I had to walk the rest of the way in.
I carried on with my walk breaks every 0.5 mile and had a few dates during each one, there was one point when a marshal asked me if I was OK, and I thought Jesus do I look that bad? There was quite a lot of people needing medical attention along the route, I hope they were all OK in the end.
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For the last mile Old Trafford came into sight, and I knew I was going to make it, as I turned the corner to the last bend Nick called my name, and I practically crawled across the line, just relieved to be done. I finished in 4.36, with a 16 minute positive split- largely down to the toilet stop and all the walking- not the way to run a marathon.
That second half and particularly the last 10k-which took me 73 minutes-was absolutely brutal, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and it just showed me how missing all those vital weeks of training with the injury had not only affected me physically but mentally too. I just didn’t have the endurance there, and my mind wasn’t there either.
I would be lying if I said I enjoyed the race because I didn’t, and I just felt so disappointed and annoyed for the last few miles. It was a tough day at the office, and I felt sad in contrast to my last race where I enjoyed all of it. I derived no enjoyment from this at all, and I wondered why on earth I was doing it. Marathon day is supposed to be happy, enjoyable, an amazing achievement, but I just felt like I hated almost every moment of this one. I think it was a combination of my training, the course and other factors.
On reflection a few hours later, I realised that a) I was using this as a training run for an ultra and b) I couldn’t walk 5 weeks ago thanks to the injury, so just to get to the start line and finish was pretty impressive. I’d probably been a bit harsh on myself, and should really have taken pride in the fact that I had done my second marathon.
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The race was well organized, with great marshals, and loads of water/clif shot block stops along the way, there could have been a few more portaloos around the course, but largely the race in terms of the organisation and logistics was excellent. There was also a nice tech tee and a seriously weighty medal, I’m blaming wearing that for my neck pain today!
I think I learnt my lesson in that you can’t expect to run a good marathon on a few 13 mile training runs, and I have to remember to hold back in the first half no matter how good I feel and save something for the second. Noted for next time!