A Marathon Too Far....

London, a marathon too far....

The London marathon was my 4th 26.2 mile event in the last twelve months. My time had lowered from 3hrs 27min a year ago to 3.11 six weeks ago, in a very sunny & hot Barcelona.

So I thought it was win or bust for London – I would follow the 3hr pace runner (and try and achieve my best ever sporting achievement – do a sub 3hr marathon) and see what happened. I was confident of getting to 18 miles at that pace and would try and cling on from there.

The one thing different from the last three marathons is the pressure I was putting on myself to really take myself out of my comfort zone, rather than just go as fast as I could and see what happened – I think this is what ultimately resulted in the marathon finally getting up and slapping me in the face -

My training and preparation had gone very well. I haven’t drunk any alcohol or caffeine for two weeks. I amended my running style, which resulted in a good improvement, and me finishing 16 miles in 1.48 three weeks a go – ahead of the marathon pace I would need to do in London. Although a vegetarian I even spent the two days before scoffing salmon with pasta and broccoli.

As with the previous five marathons Ive done in the last two and half years it felt that everything had come together well as I travelled out to the start...

I did my traditional poo out the back of some old shops near the start – have you seen the queue for ‘official’ loos at marathon starts? – I felt good, but then 5 minutes later felt the need to ‘go again’ and repeated the process behind a tree in Greenwich Park. This is the 30 minutes where it all changed from - set for a real attempt at 3 hours - to just trying to finish.

I knew I had got rid of too much of the food I needed for fuel. The pressure I had put on myself had made me far more nervous than I had been before – and as I was in England for the first time – had lots of friends sending me wishes and keeping an eye out for me and my time. Too much Nervousness had got to me and I was aware that instead of being on the start line with the fat stomach I like to have, I was there with the flat stomach I normally have by the end.

I made my way to the start point – looking for the 6.53 pacer – he wasn’t there – then at the last minute he turned up and was right near the front of the red start (mixing, I felt too near the sub 3 hour runners). So off he went and we followed. To do 6.53 every mile was going to be a push for me – we finished mile one in 6.30 – I gave him the benefit of the doubt – followed for another mile – that we went through in 12.48 – we were speeding up and I couldn’t keep up. I could feel I had no energy but told myself it was because I had started too quick. As we went through mile 3 at 19 minutes I knew I was a goner – I dropped back and aimed to run my own pace – but I already knew I had no energy. I had hit the wall at mile three – only 23 miles to go.

I didn’t enjoy the run at all despite the weather being brilliant and the crowds out in huge numbers – it was warm but don’t think it made any difference to me – apart from the fact that I think even if I had been on top of my game I wouldn’t have made 3 hours – so wasn’t too unhappy or annoyed at myself at dropping back.

I knew my wife and kids were on Tower Bridge – with some lucazade and dried fruit and nuts – normally when Ive seen them at past marathons I am passed them in a flash of smiles - I knew this was my target to get to without stopping but that when I did see them (12.6 miles) I would stop. Helen said after that when she saw me stop she knew it must not be going well. I hugged, grabbed my bag of supplies and carried on – I passed the half way mark actually only about a minute down on the time I needed for three hours but 100 yards later I heard the tannoy announcement that Haile Gebrselassie had pulled up. Instant thought: if he can’t make it, im stopping now – so I immediately stopped and walked the next few hundred yards eating and drinking.

From then on it was only about finishing – it did cross my mind that I actually might not make it – or that it would be a three hour walk. I knew this was the marathon where I was meant to put everything into it and that was the only think that kept pushing me back into a jog – at times I was jogging ¾ mile and walking the last quarter – Ive finished twenty minutes faster than I ultimately finished London but this was by far and away the hardest run I have ever done – I was running a marathon with no food in my stomach and having shot off way too fast – I was paying for it.

I managed to not stop all the way from Tower Bridge to the end (four miles – which is ridiculously small amount of achievement but yesterday felt like I had climbed Everest by achieving that!). The only comfort was that I was seeing the same equally fit looking people to me still around me – they were having the same tough problems. I have never seen so many people laid up or pulled up lame – either us Brits are more unfit than foreign marathon participants or that 23-degree weather was being the killer they predicted.

So I made it. Haile Gebrselassie didn’t. (small comforts...)

I finished four marathons in a year. This one was the hardest and although finishing in 3.31 and essentially mixing slow jogging with walking for the whole of the second half – this was by far and away my hardest marathon.

I have learnt that marathons really are hard and to take comfort in what I have achieved this year – but for that small niggle in the back of my brain that tells me im really fit I need to get out to the start of another 26.2 miler with a stomach full of fuel and a pacemaker going at the right speed – and prove it.

now where’s that list of upcoming events???

Chris Ward


Ps – interesting thread about fast pacemakers on runners world site
http://www.runnersworld.co.uk/forum/forummessages.asp?dt=4&UTN=103201&V=1&SP=

including this post:
The other I saw at about 5 miles when I was still running 6:27 to 6:30s - and I did express surprise at his pace then (I think the exchange was
Me: "F**k me"
Him: "what"
Me: "You're on sub 6:30 pace"
Him: [blank stare]