On Sunday (18/11/12) I (John) ran my first marathon. It feels quite strange to be saying that, after many years of thinking about them and watching other people run them on TV. The blisters, bruised toes and sore muscles are constant reminders of the experience though!
In case you were wondering, after running a marathon some things are painful;
- Walking
- Standing up
- Sitting down
- Running (shock!)
- Going down stairs
- Getting on a bicycle
- Falling off a bicycle
- Putting on my shoes (and taking them off)
- Rolling over in bed
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| The gang before heading to the start (© Victoria Jewitt) |
However, other things are surprisingly not painful;
- Riding a bike (once you get on it!)
- EATING
- Drinking - purely for re-hydration
- Watching TV
- EATING
- Sleeping
- Telling everyone you meet all about the race in minute detail
- EATING
I have to say, this time last week I didn't think I'd be in this position! It started when I was asked to take part in a research project for a Dissertation.
"All you have to do is the beep test, a 10 mile hill run, stick with a training programme for a month and then do the beep test and the 10-miler again"
"No bother", says I, "it'll be good training for the cycle!" And I thought no more of it. Tuesday arrived, bringing with it a message; "Beep test is on for tomorrow. 10-miler cancelled, Grizedale Marathon instead."
MARATHON?! I googled it, found the website (www.ultratrail26.com) and gawped for a while at the route map. After a bit of panic, I had entered. There's no going back when you've committed to help someone out!
This wasn't a normal marathon, it was a Trail Race. No nice flat roads here, instead you'd find rocky tracks, mucky paths and steep slopes. Think of school cross country races, then multiply by at least 3. Think of running with a rucksack weighing 4kg or so, filled with emergency equipment. Think of having to navigate your way round the course by map, when you're shattered from the endless running. This was going to be quite the challenge.
So the Dissertation Crew was formed; a few lads and Vicky, who had planned on running for a while and had actually trained. In my eyes, the rest of us were average Outdoor Education students out for a jolly time!
Race day dawned cold and clear. We registered, got changed, checked our kit and had a group photo. Heart rate monitors were hooked up, nervous giggles were giggled and last minute toilet dashes completed as a team.
It was time!
I crossed the line. No stopping until it's done or I break, and I'm not going to break. Off up the hill at a jog, so many runners. What am I doing? I've never raced before, never ran more than 10 miles! I'll finish and be happy with it. I'll go for it, hard as I can. Keep the pace slow, conserve energy. Shuffle quickly. Open the stride down the hills. So many nerves, I want to sprint and leave everyone behind. No! Do it properly. Feel the rhythm, feel the ride, get on up, it's bobsleigh time!
The race was split into two loops, each beginning and ending at the start point. In other words, you started, ran the first loop, passed through the start again, headed off on the second loop and finished where you started.
The first loop was on forestry tracks (see picture below) which were good underfoot and didn't have many bad hills. After a refuel at the checkpoint (fig rolls and coke, excellent!) it was off onto the meat of the course. Loop 2 was longer than the first, and on rougher terrain with LOTS more bad hills. We ran over fields, up rocky farm tracks, lakeside footpaths, roads and everything in between.
It was on this ground that I found myself making up time, overtaking people more used to smooth tarmac. Where they had gained on the flat, smooth first loop, I gained by fast walking up hills and throwing myself down loose, muddy slopes. Seemingly hillwalking was better training than lots of running!
At 18 miles I was struggling, but a quick snack on the go from my bag sorted it. I can't remember much until being shouted at that "it's only 5 miles to go!" That set me off! Away I went down the hill, loving life and thinking it was in the bag...
What a mistake! The hardest was yet to come. The final 2 miles made me dig deeper than I've ever done before. I wish I could say my legs went on automatic but in fact every stride was a conscious effort. The banter at this point was, in retrospect, great;
"This is the longest 2 miles I've ever run!"
"Do marathons always hurt this much?"
"Nearly finished now" (Ha!)
The final descent! I went into lockdown, concentrating hard on the trail. My best descending technique showed itself; lean forward and let the legs do the thinking! Suddenly, a shout for help. I stumbled to a stop.
"Our dog can't get over the stile, can you help?"
If I hadn't been so shattered I would have laughed. As it was, I nearly cried. Me? Lift a big hefty Labrador over a stile? In my state?! All I could do was hand them my map and hope I didn't need it again.
Down, down, down. All that height gained in sweat is lost. The road is in sight. Clear the last loose rocks in a bound. Last 300 metres. I gunned it, all I had left. A sprint finish! Through the finishing gantry, arms pumping. I fancied I looked like Mo Farrah, but was probably more like NO FARTHER!
Finished. 4hrs 41mins 40secs, 27.4 miles, and roughly 600 metres ascent. A happy end to my first run longer than 10 miles, first race and first marathon. Africa, bring it on!
I ran a marathon and all I got was this t-shirt...and a medal!
You might be able to spot familiar faces in this video
Thanks to Victoria Jewitt and SportSunday for great pictures, and to Tasha Swan for artistic consultation services.
Thanks to Victoria Jewitt and SportSunday for great pictures, and to Tasha Swan for artistic consultation services.
