OKIt's been at least 10 years since I've run a marathon and 11 miles into
the Chester marathon on Sunday as the pace runner I was trying to hold on
to disappeared into the distance, I remembered why. Marathons are f*cking hard.
I'd only entered as a challenge to myself to get back to doing things that frighten me, and long runs on roads do that. Much prefer trails and ultra distance events these days as there are usually plenty of walking breaks.
The other reason for entering was to attempt to get a "good for age"
qualifying time for the London marathon. It's about 20 times
oversubscribed so the odds of getting a non-charity place are pretty long.
As a 60 year old I "only" had to hit 3:45 to get my GFA time. As a 59 year
old I would have needed a 3:15 which was why I'd not attempted it before.
Chester sells itself as a "PB course" which turned out to be a bit of a
fib. It's far from flat with some evil (but not terribly long) hills on
the return leg. Still, my running has gone well ear the last year with no injuries and a steady improvement in all my times. With a recent half
marathon time of 1:38 a sub-3:45 seemed doable.
Despite having an invitation to start with the elites at the front I chose
to tag on to a pacer group further back as the pacers work on chip time. If
I had started ahead of a pacer and finished with the pacer my time would
have been slower than the pacer's if you get my meaning. I decided
worrying about being slower than the pacer was a complication I could do without so despite the elite start invitation, I hung back with the pacer.
Now a sensible person might have aimed for the 3:45 pacer but as I'd
stupidly plugged my recent race times into a "race time predictor" and come
out with a stupidly fast time, I thought I might be in with a shout of
hanging onto the 3:30 pace group. Where these predictors go wrong (for me anyway) is in assuming that one is slavishly following a marathon training schedule aimed at a particular finishing time. I've long given up on
slavish training and have concentrated on quality over quantity so a 3:30
was probably never really on the cards.
Anyhow, the horn blew and the 3:30 pacers head off at about 7:45 pace. A
bit fast but they like to "bank" a bit of time for any delays later on.
After a few miles I found the crowds around the pacers were actually making
the running more difficult and less enjoyable than it should have been somI eased slowly ahead, not because I particularly expected a sub-3:30 but just
to be rid of the feeling that I'd have to keep chasing them.
This worked pretty well up until about 10 miles when the pacers and
associated mob caught me and slowly passed me. Now it was beginning to feel like work and at 11 miles the further 15 miles to do weighed heavily on my mind. I'd given up on chasing the 3:30 group and was now in fear of being caught by the 3:45 group. Finishing with them would be too slow for me
(having started ahead of them).
The halfway point at 1:45ish was a big psychological boost though. My last
half marathon was only a month ago so it was a distance that I knew I could
do and could mentally visualise. It was now a matter of trying to ignore
the aches and pains, pretending that the fatigue in my legs was a minor inconvenience and holding my pace whilst trying to target runners ahead of
me.
It never ceases to amaze me how quickly some folk run despite the most
awful postures/biomechanics/technique etc. A young lad with mild cerebral palsy was lurching along ahead of me at 8 minute pace with a Pemex Ant lean
to the right and a wonky knee. Another runner had one knee that didn't
appear to bend at all but again he was making very decent progress. I was a
bit relieved to eventually overtake them both but it took me the best part
of 20 miles to do so!
Energy-wise I had decided to use gels, one every 5 miles and this seemed
about right for me. Too many make me feel nauseous, too few and I bonk. At
no point did I hit any walls and whilst my legs did try and tell me to just give up at a few points I found that I could "talk them into" picking up
the pace again. Fatigue is a funny thing part physiological and part
mental and if you're a bit mental, you can partially overcome some of the physiological side of it. ;-)
I knew I was slowing down and whilst my progress on the flats wasn't too
bad, my legs had a tendency to turn to rubber on any sort of incline, of
which there were an increasing number of on the way back. The route had
taken us through the town centre, out into the countryside and across the
Welsh border before returning by a different route through so lovely if hilly(ish) countryside.
The nearer we got to Chester the more "talking to" my legs needed and as
ever, the last couple of miles seemed to go on forever. The race started
and finished on Chester (horse) race course and it was a bit of a shock to
the legs to have to finish with several hundred yards of wet grass and soft ground! I passed a wheelchair racer struggling to make any forward progress
at all in the finishing straight and really felt for him.
Everything was hurting now as I sprinted for the line and I could clock
ahead showing 3:37:30 as I passed underneath the arch. Corrected for my
start chip time my elapsed was 3:36:56.
This translated into 710th out of 2644 finishers, 15th out of 57 60-64 yr
olds and most importantly of all, qualifies me for London in 2019 (too late
for 2018).
After crossing the line it was a painful stagger on feet that felt like
they were on fire through the finishing to collect my goody bag, shirt and medal, a huge great gong of a thing. Rather pleased though to find that in addition to the medal they were giving out small lapel pins of the same
design, something that you can actually wear after race day. ;-)
My legs were in agony and whilst the walk from our hotel to the start had
only taking 15 minutes in the morning it took over twice as long to get
back. After a wonderful soak in the bath I had a look at my feet expecting
to see huge blisters over the balls of my feet but there were none. There
were exquisitely tender though and felt raw. A couple of compeed blister plasters provided some relief thankfully.
On Sunday I was adamant that I never wanted to run another marathon, it's
just so painful. Today, I'm angry with the distance for being so hard and
want to "do it properly". Having run a 95 mile trail race 5 times no mere
26 mile race has any right to be so fecking hard. I guess that's what
makes the marathon such a special distance. So, it looks like I will have another go. Not sure when but I think it's likely to be before London 2019.
;-)
https://www.relive.cc/view/g14745213986?r=ride
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/activity/2066342048
Tim
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