As anyone that has entered a big race can testify to, as the day approaches every fibre of ones being becomes focused on the event. Life is effectively put on hold. Now, some two weeks after the Brighton marathon I've finally cleared the backlog of tasks that I had deferred and can sit and reflect.
Emotions were running high as I crossed the line; not the pure joy and elation of having nailed something, I certainly didn't execute a flawless race and I was totally emotionally and physically exhausted. Nevertheless, I experienced a pride of sorts, of having given all of myself to the event, of having achieved what I set out to do. Totally spent in the quest of a worthy endeavour is quite a satisfying place to be.
That I ran should have ticked all the boxes eh? You'll remember my perfect plan outlined in my blog entry “Running the numbers” on 5th February. The goal was to run three times a week, pretty much all on the treadmill, with just a few pacing sessions thrown in at the track, and to limit the mileage to a maximum of 44 miles per week. This was to protect my fragile Achilles that had some years earlier forced me to quit running competitively. It seemed entirely plausible that I could convert a time from 2002 into a sub even though it was ten years on.
The plan worked like a dream. Of course real life does not mimic art (or even science) and the chart outlying my training load, the road map my Coach and I were following, shows my inherent tendency to overshoot! The pink line is the projected path, and the blue is what actually happened. But all in all we were very happy with the progression. I stayed strong and healthy losing only a single day in the 3 month period to illness and excitingly my running speeds got faster and faster. Every Friday I spent hours at the gym on the treadmill rotating my long runs between 24 miles run steady, 21 miles with the last 5 miles completed at 7 minute mile pace, and my favourite the 'old skool' 15 x 1 mile reps at 6:50 pace. None of these held any fear for me, and with great satisfaction, I ticked all of them off. Monday’s speed work and Wednesday’s tempo session all pointed to a return to my running form of yesteryear, adjusted of course for the passing of time!
Come race day, I was totally ready. Mentally and physically. I'm pretty meticulous (some would say anal) about race preparation and had left no stone unturned. I'd been over the course, I had all my nutrition sorted and I'd visualised how I would feel at certain points, exploring both good & bad. I felt strong and had a private target of sub 3:10. Yes, a significant leap from the initial goal of sub but I believed I could do it, and my hard wired competitive streak wasn't going to settle for an easy ride. The only small nagging concern was voiced by my Coach who in stating that she had no doubt I could run a 3:06 marathon ON A TREADMILL then added the killer blow that it may not work out on the road.
Come race day, I was totally ready. Mentally and physically. I'm pretty meticulous (some would say anal) about race preparation and had left no stone unturned. I'd been over the course, I had all my nutrition sorted and I'd visualised how I would feel at certain points, exploring both good & bad. I felt strong and had a private target of sub 3:10. Yes, a significant leap from the initial goal of sub but I believed I could do it, and my hard wired competitive streak wasn't going to settle for an easy ride. The only small nagging concern was voiced by my Coach who in stating that she had no doubt I could run a 3:06 marathon ON A TREADMILL then added the killer blow that it may not work out on the road.
Fast forwarding to the outcome, was she right? Well yes, it pains me to admit it, and it certainly ‘pained’ me on the day but I didn’t nail it as I had hoped. Now, I’m not knocking my time of but I did it the hard way and paid the price. Perhaps I was naive in expecting it to be a breeze. After my debut marathon in 2000 in New York where I made all the mistakes know to man, I vowed I would never do that again and subsequently ran two near-perfect races in London in 2001 and 2002, recording times of 2:54 and then 2:52. Time has a habit of blurring memories though and I fell foul of mistakes again. In hindsight I went off too fast, but even arriving at halfway in a time of I wasn’t overly concerned; I still believed that a finish of , perhaps even was still realistic. The problem was that my quads had started to hurt before I even got to 8 miles, whether this was due to the hills, the wind or just the unaccustomed pounding of the road on my legs is anyone's guess, but ultimately it proved to be my downfall. It made for a pretty uncomfortable few hours thereafter. While I managed to block out the pain signals until 18 miles, it finally started to tell and my pace started to fade by around 20 seconds per mile. Another slide in pace occurred at 22 miles, and the last two miles really resembled the ‘Mall shuffle’ that we see every year on the TV coverage of the London Marathon. I was so deep in a well of pain that I didn’t notice the crowds, the support, my loved ones; all I could do was place one foot in front of the other until it was over. So much for my visualisation of a triumphant return to marathon running!
Yet, it was still a triumph. Ok I was totally broken, but I did achieve what I set out to do. I just did it the hard way. I proved that it is possible to run a totally respectable marathon by limiting training to 3 runs a week, on low mileage and by using only a treadmill. More importantly, my Achilles stayed strong. Would I do it all again, definitely yes; would I do it the same way, hell NO!
Finally, let’s remember why I started this in thr first place. It wasn’t just for me to experiment with running, training plans, numbers and processes, although all of these were immensely pleasurable and I had a ball. The truly satisfying outcome is that I raised the sum of £1,236 for the Lymphoedema Support Network and that is the true proof of the pudding. A massive THANK YOU to one and all who helped me to achieve this.
