14th April 2013
Distance (miles): 26.39
Time (hh:mm:ss): 04:11:49
Pace (min/mile): 09:33
Things started to go wrong when we got up, Harry had caught a vomiting bug and hadn't slept all night, so there was no way he'd be able to run. Other than that the walk to the start was uneventful, though I spent a lot of time umming and ahhing about what kit to run in. Eventually I wore leggings, shorts, t-shirt and a light jumper (this becomes important later, I'm not just giving fashion advice).
At the start I felt great, I tried to settle to an 8:30 pace but it just felt unnatural, I should have practised more at that pace in training, but I hadn't so just went with what I was used to, about 8 minute/miles. At about 7 miles in as we went up the hill out of Brighton you could see the elite runners coming back, approaching something like mile 12. It was ridiculous to think they were going nearly twice as fast as I was, but looked just as comfortable.
At mile 9.5ish I collected my first water, these were in weird pouches that you squeezed to get a dribble out of. At this stage I was feeling good and it was still fairly cool, so having got frustrated with the pouch and having only taken in a tiny amount I threw it away and just got on with running.
About a mile later, as I reached the point where I had seen the elite runners there was someone in a giant foam phone running up the hill. This must have been about 4' wide, and looked incredibly awkward. If you want to impress marathon runners run a marathon dressed as a giant phone, though this was only the second most impressive of the day.
At this point I had caught up with the 3:30 pacers, and I settled in behind them. Really I should have stuck with them, but I still felt great and so after half a mile I carried on past with dreams of glory in my head. The most impressive group of people came two miles later, a group of fire fighters were marching onwards while carrying a ladder, it's difficult to express the impression this makes. Knowing that no matter what others think of what you're doing those people are working twice as hard or more. Needless to say they were getting loud cheers from the spectators and the runner's going the other way.
I went through half way in 1 hour 49. I was still feeling great, in fact I felt pretty much as good as when I started. There was no question in my mind that the second half would be any harder, I was expecting to blitz this and come away with a time faster than I would have dreamed at the start of the day. That was all to change at Mile 18.
At mile 18 I hit the ground, literally fell to my hands and knees and had to pick myself up and start jogging again. I had had blurred vision and felt slightly out of it for a mile or so, but I thought this was just a normal part of distance running as it had happened in most of my practice runs. Everything felt harder than it should, with my pace climbing towards 10 minute miles and refusing to stay lower.
As I started to really feel bad I promised myself that if I was going to leave this race it would be while being carried, no matter how long it took or how hard it got I was not giving up.
Fortunately it didn't get to that stage, while I was weaving from side to side and several members of the crowd had asked if I was okay as I stumbled along he came and found me. I can't remember his name or his club, but he is officially my hero. He got me water, kept talking to me and stayed with me as the darkness faded and my head started to clear. By this stage I was severely dehydrated, I had taken in maybe one pouch of water and by this stage the sun was out and I was sweating heavily. I was wearing far too much kit (told you it was relevant) and everything ached.
From this stage on I walked and ran intermittently for the next 6 or 7 miles. I got water at every stop, and finally discovered you could rip the top off the water to get a proper drink from them. Over time things got better, and with continued support from all who came down to see me (thank you to them all) I continued to struggle on.
At mile 24 the man who had originally helped me caught me up, I found out he'd only been given a number for the marathon 2 days before and was just looking to finish. We ran together for half a mile or so before he needed to slow, but I was determined to finish with some pride intact and so jogged the last 2 miles solid. At the time it felt like a mammoth effort, but it was most definitely worth it.
I suppose that goes for the whole marathon. It was hell, it drove me the closest to giving up I've ever been. I was close to blacking out for nearly a mile, and without the help of a stranger I would have collapsed by mile 20. In the moments after I swore that never again would I do that distance, no other race compares in terms of effort. The burning pain of short distance can never compare to the agony combined with the knowledge there's still miles and miles to go.
A lot of people don't understand why I was disappointed, so let me take this opportunity to lay it out once and for all. I don't deny the time is okay in isolation, but I felt I was able to do more. I was fitter and more able than the time suggests and I made a number of stupid mistakes, most of which I had read were likely in advance but of course I knew better and I suffered for it. If I had been aiming for 5 hours and got 4:50 or even got the time I did but felt I'd run well i would have been happy. The fact is that on that day, for me, I was capable of more and I messed up.
So what have I learned for next time?
- Don't wear too much kit, less is better than more.
- Hydrate lots, water every 4 miles at least.
- Pace yourself; the start will feel easy because it is, but you will not be able to hold it 20 miles later.
- Don't get a vomiting bug the morning of the marathon.
And so to 2014, because I still need to go under 4 hours.
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