The Chester Marathon – the second half

I was beginning to believe I could do it. Still on target. It was wonderful and awful. I felt pressure mounting. It would be so much easier not to keep going at this pace. To let off. I couldn’t. I’d promised everyone and not least myself not to take the easy option this time.

I pressed on. My blister hurt. It didn’t matter. Keep going. By 18 I was starting to see runners regularly stop. This is awful. Temptation hits you. No I can’t stop. One poor guy just stopped abruptly and projectile vomited. God this was becoming a war zone. He looked ok so I continued.

Still on target I reached 20 miles in 3:01:30. My muscles were slowly beginning to fill with lactic acid. I tried changing my running style. No use. I was beginning to feel exhausted. I thought the 4 hour target was becoming unlikely. I was running out of gas.

I knew my running partner Peter had come to see me and would be at mile 22 with some support. Just get there I thought. I looked around. No sign of him. Damn, something must have come up. I put my head down and continued. Let it finish soon. I hate this.

Then I heard my name “Rob Rob”. I was so fast Pete had just seen my cap going past and had chased me down. “You’re going to do it”, he said. “4:10” I said. What a difference support makes though. The next mile I kicked on for a bit.

I suddenly started feeling light-headed and that I had to “perform” then I started feeling nauseous. I could no longer drink easily. I tried sports drink and it tasted awful. I just sipped on water. The wheels were starting to come off. For the next two miles I kept feeling wobbly then awful.

I kept going but was beginning to slow. I lost interest in time. I just want to finish to get the thing over with. I can’t stand it anymore.

Off the Greenway we came back into Guilden Sutton. The support was excellent but I could only focus on the hill. Then shortly afterwards for the first time since I have started running (nearly 3 years now) I stopped. I was mentally and physically exhausted. I walked then started running again. The shame of stopping made me continue. My legs were so heavy. I stopped again. Then started. I knew I wasn’t going to quite make my time. Will power had got me so far at this pace but I just didn’t have any left.

I longed for the 26 sign. It took forever. Now going at a snail’s pace I came across the mad woman marshal. She was great (but mad). She was whooping and hollering. God I could have swung for her. Then I saw the 26 sign. The pain will be over soon. Cars were leaving. Drivers with pity in their eyes.

I ran into the Rugby ground car park then saw the grass. I looked for the finishing line and saw my family. I just focussed on the line and kicked as hard as I could. I raised my arms as I reached the line.

I crossed the line in triumph, was given a medal and a bag then went over to the grandstand, leant against the wall and wept. I couldn’t calm myself. I had set a ridiculously high target and nearly pulled it off. The time to be confirmed was 4:02:22

After a few minutes I walked across to my wife and family and gave my wife, Helen a hug. I heard a noise come out of my mouth almost like an animal in pain and just cried and cried. I think at that moment all the pain and joy came out in one big wave of emotion. I had to share it with Helen who has believed in me from the start.

I was not sad at just missing out on 4:00. I was proud of my time. 22 mins off my previous marathon. I ran the race like a veteran and almost delivered.

I’m now 44 but my goal is still to run a marathon in under 4 hours. I ordered a book from Amazon today….. “Advanced marathon running”. Next time I will be even more prepared.

The Chester marathon – the first half

What a wonderful feeling to be running a marathon again. A small enthusiastic crowd cheered us on as we passed through the lovely village of Guilden Sutton in the morning sun.

The atmosphere was friendly and supportive. You really felt the good wishes coming off the other runners, everyone seemed happy and there was a lovely hum of voices as many renewed old acquaintances.

Suddenly at mile 1. Mick and Phil arrived alongside me – truly legends of the marathon world. I introduced myself, shook Mick by the hand and said hello to Phil. Just as quickly a hill appeared and they lost their momentum. So tough pushing a wheelchair around a marathon ! This was Mick and Phil’s 40th marathon together.

We looped around a road then bridleway building up speed and were then onto the Greenway (a disused railway track now cycle path) and sent on our way towards Wales.

I was ahead of my target time at 2 miles by a minute. Too fast ! I mustn’t gain anymore and concentrated on keeping a minute ahead of my target time for as long as I could muster.

The route was flat and straight. Runners in my group looked steady. A nice sensible pace for a four hour marathon. It was now time to settle in and do the ground work. Concentrate and make sure I stayed at nine minute pace.

Well before half way the leaders in the field were passing by on the way back. My God ! All stony faced with their race faces. I wonder if we looked as determined. Encouragement was shouted from within our ranks. Nothing came back until a Wrexham club athlete passed in third or fourth place and shouted “well done” – a gentleman among the “elite”.

The Greenway passed over a busy trunk road and soon we were looping down into Queensferry and the River Dee. Roughly the half way point. I completed the half marathon in 1:58 or so. My pace making was still to plan.

I now noticed I was starting to overtake people . Many had gone out too fast and the warmth (about 18 degrees) was starting to have an effect.

I still felt good and set off back towards Chester. The field had now begun to stretch out and I was surprised to find myself picking up runners one by one without any effort.

The Chester Marathon – The start

The morning had finally arrived. I was as ready as I was going to be to run my fastest marathon time. A mild cold and cough had briefly appeared on Thursday and Friday but thankfully it had not progressed and so I felt in pretty good condition.

After suffering high winds on the Sunday the weather had calmed down. The forecast was warm but not hot. The scene was set.

We arrived in good time at Chester rugby club where the race was to start and finish. We took photos as both my dad and mother-in- law had come to support me.

Time quickly passed and before I knew it I was alone waiting at the start.

This was the inaugural Chester marathon and featured around 800 or so competitors – many of them good club athletes. Word had got around that this could be a fast course and so many were looking for Personal bests.

My race plan was to set off fairly quickly and then speed up to a 9:03 pace and then let myself fade by a few seconds each mile from around mile 17. I had managed this before in training up to 20 miles. It was just a case of whether I could hold on for the last few miles at 9:20 pace or so.

The “gun” went off but it took a surprisingly long time before I reached the start line. By the time I saw Helen and my family I was running gently. After a wave it was now time to focus on the job in hand. An attempt at a sub 4 marathon !

The Chester Marathon (The Crows)

The preparation for the Chester marathon was not perfect. When I decided to run the marathon I thought I would have a wonderful chance of doing well. I would not be disturbed by strange hotel noises and I could sleep soundly in my own bed. What could possibly go wrong ?

I have read many articles and one or two books on marathons but surprisingly none of them mention crows. For the week running up to the marathon we were disturbed at night or should I say early morning at around 4 am by crows throwing themselves against our bedroom window.

I went to bed on the Sunday night apprehensively – prepared for anything. I donned my earplugs and buried my head deep under the duvet. Please sleep, please sleep. Please no more crows.

I was delighted to wake up at 6:45. We had finally had a quiet night. Today was going to be my day…or was it ?

Please leave me alone !

Pride comes before a fall

I have completed my Madrid challenge in late March and now just need to collect all the remaining sponsorship. I am most grateful to all my sponsors. Thank you so much for your generosity.

When I started the challenge it meant everything to me. It almost felt like a spiritual calling. I had not done anything for charity since my university years. I had just started running and was walking to the front to cool off when the idea came to me to run the Madrid marathon and run the equivalent distance (Parkgate to Madrid) and map it all. I thought of how lucky we were to have our boys and how neighbours had lost a child. I must do it for a kid’s charity.

I thought friends and family would be delighted and supportive. Unfortunately, the wind was taken out of my sails almost from day one. Support came from some, indifference from others. I chose Madrid for a very special reason , my mum. I wanted to run the Madrid marathon whilst she was alive and make her proud. The early entries of my blog show the joy I felt in starting the venture. The joy was taken when my mum died. The challenge lost all its appeal when I found out subsequently she didn’t want me to run in Madrid. It didn’t impress her. She was concerned for my health. Instead of flying I now felt I was dragging a stone. I changed my plans from the Madrid marathon to running the distance to Madrid then the Brighton marathon. I was trying to salvage something but it wasn’t really possible. It was becoming a bit of nonsense !

The irony is that I feel so much stronger this year. I could have done it. I am as certain as I can be. I may well continue running and participating in marathons but I know I can never run the Madrid marathon. The emotion would be too much.

Helen said something interesting this week. She said she had never really seen me give my all in a race. Never seen me struggle over the line. In many ways she is right and had hit the nail on the head and showed an insight into my character that perhaps only she has. Fleetwood (my first marathon) was controlled and cautious. I ran with fear. Fear of failure, fear that there was maybe something wrong with my heart, fear of the wall. I plodded in, gave her a hug and that was that.

The Chester marathon I hope will be different. I have always wanted to run a marathon in under 4 hours. That is my goal. I will give it my all. No complications. No baggage. To run a sub-4 marathon I will have to be at my very best. It is only just achievable based on my half marathon and 20 mile paces.

Training has been going extremely well and I feel much fitter than for my first marathon. I have completed my two 20 mile training runs with no major impact and the maths tells me I could run in close to 4 hour pace. My last 20 miler was done in 9:15 pace. I need to do it in 9:10 pace per mile.

I am going to give it a real go. Not hell for leather, it has to be more measured than that or you will burn out. I believe I can go pretty close. If I fail to reach my target it will be a gallant failure and God willing I will do it next time. If I succeed then it will be one of my greatest achievements. I am unworthy of my dad’s comments on the Fleetwood marathon entry. I feel I could have done so much more for charity and for myself. I just haven’t been strong enough.

A nice surprise

I can hardly believe it. I didn’t dare look to see how far I have left to run. I have just updated my map and done the calculations. I am within 200 kms of Madrid ! My original target was finishing the challenge just before the Madrid marathon which is on 25th April – just 11 weeks away. I now need to average out at just 18kms a week (approx 11 miles). Convinced that I should do that if I stay injury free.

I start a 12 week marathon training programme on 5th March.

Out of the mist

Out of the mist we ran. Two runners. One common goal. A marathon in May.

It has been a long winter. I have lost fitness and form but I have continued running. Only a little but I have kept going on my virtual run to Madrid.

I just want to put this challenge to bed now. I don’t know how I’ll feel when I reach Madrid on the map. I think the run lost its focus when I decided not to run the Madrid marathon. First I substituted Brighton for Madrid believing there were no local alternatives but much to my surprise I discovered in December that there was an inaugural Chester marathon in May and so now Chester it is.

The thing that surprised me the most after Fleetwood was not the physical exhaustion but the mental exhaustion. Stiffness lasted for an extra day (2 days) but the following day I found I couldn’t remember things and sometimes couldn’t express myself or find the words I wanted. I took my car in for service and couldn’t remember my own phone number !

I took two weeks off then started again but as the winter evenings closed in I was less and less motivated to run sometimes running just once a week then even just once a fortnight. I got away with it until January but then suddenly felt a total loss of form. I was now struggling to run at all – even 3 miles required an effort.

Over the last two weeks I feel I have regained some fitness and managed a 9 mile run today in the mist without feeling totally washed out. It is a start.

On my map I have passed Burgos in Northern Spain and am now heading south towards Madrid. Marathon training starts with a vengeance once there is light in the evening then I can eat up the miles.

Still my pride and joy !

My first marathon

This weekend I fell in love with Fleetwood the most unlikeliest place for a first marathon.

When marathons are mentioned athletes speak of London, Paris, Berlin, Boston, New York…. but there aren’t many that can say they ran in the inaugural Fleetwood marathon ! No hiding amongst thousands of fun runners in this one. Definitely one for the purist. My number 2025 was actually in reality number 25. Just 135 runners finished the event.

The field was joined by a similar number of athletes running the half marathon. This could all end in tears if the route was not clear as the courses split after 10 miles. I had no intention of running a half !!

The course was flat as a pancake. Of the field many club athletes had entered hoping to run a personal best. I was hoping to run the whole thing and hopefully get a time of 4 hours 30.

The weather for the day was fantastic. Bright and sunny for the most part with temperatures peaking at around 19 degrees by the finish but hovering around 16-17 for large chunks of the race.

I have never felt so nervous at the start of a race. I decided to run with my camelbak which contained my mobile phone, energy drink, plasters, tissues, flannel and vital personal information. When you are greeted at the entrance of the venue by ambulances and paramedics it certainly focussed the mind. “I might be seeing you later” I joked with a lady paramedic.

Soon I was stripped off and waiting at the starting line. The gun sounded and within seconds I had crossed the line despite starting at the very back.

I'm the one with the hat

My race plan was to run at 9:30 pace for the first 17-18 miles and then embrace the wall and run at 12:00 pace thereafter. Helen was to refuel me at 17 miles with fresh carbo loading drink.

I used a pace band with target times for each mile. I found myself clocking the first mile in 10:15. Too slow. I had been too cautious. I eased up ever so slightly and started overtaking some runners very steadily. Slowly slowly now. By mile 3 I had reached the first drink station and was on target to within ten seconds.

I felt I could now relax. The key was not to run too quickly. Stick to the plan. The course was quite complex but involved three main loops and so three chances to see Helen and the boys. I hadn’t expected to see them at mile 7 but there they were. I was so happy. I felt so strong and was bang on 9:30 pace.

No longer at the back at mile seven

Away I went this time the course took you along the promenade towards Cleveleys. It was still fairly early and so not many people around. There were beautiful views out towards Heysham, Barrow and the Irish Sea and you could also see Blackpool tower in the distance. Running doesn’t get much better than this.

By mile 10 the field was approaching the split and soon after the half marathon runners veered left and I continued towards Cleveleys with the marathon runners.

A couple of miles later I found myself almost alone on a complex part of the course with not a visible runner ahead of me. The loneliness of the long distance runner came to mind. Thank Goodness I could see a race marshal ahead of me. The marshalling was excellent throughout. She pointed me in the right direction and I could see some runners ahead. Slowly a gained on them. I was running well and within a minute or so of my pace chart.

At 13 (half way) I began to feel the subtle stiffness of lactic acid build up. I am used to this but slightly disappointed it had started so early. It was going to be a long way home. Helen was to meet me at 17 with more energy drink and a banana. I focussed on getting to her in my goal time.

At 17 miles and no longer smiling !

I stopped and eat half a banana while Helen poured more drink into my Camelbak. My goodness it felt heavy when I started again. I was now five minutes off my goal time but now was where my cunning plan would work. I only had to run each mile at less than 12 minute pace and I would now gain time over my goal time (I had built the wall into my race plan). I was now noticing more people walking. I kept going but it was hurting. I caught up with two guys that were running a nice steady pace and stayed with them all the way through to mile 23. Helped a lot having company and I went out of my way throughout the race to chat to runners. Everyone was so friendly. I clawed the lost time back and was now bang on target again for a 4 hr 30.

At 23 I stopped to drink my water and just could not catch up with those guys again. To be fair one of them had run 142 marathons ! I settled into my own pace and was soon joined by a lady athlete who had been struggling. We ran the last three miles together encouraging each other at well under 12 minute pace.

It was a lovely feeling at mile 25 knowing we had 20 minutes or so left to achieve 4 hours 30.

The last mile went relatively quickly and then I saw Helen and the boys. What brilliant support. My new friend said how lovely they were. I felt such pride and a lump in my throat.

Teaming up for the last three miles.

The end was in sight. The Marine gardens came into view and as we turned the final corner and dropped down there was no surge left in my tired legs – just numbness and aches.

After what seemed an age following a loop around the gardens we arrived at the finish. A time of 4 hours 24 minutes. I had completed my first marathon and competently. I did not feel any elation or ecstasy. There were no huge crowds to greet me but the loving arms of my wife who has supported me throughout. That’s all I needed.

Crossing the finish line

Her indoors

Fleetwood here I come

I have rested this week with only two three mile runs. I feel butterflies in my stomach. The weather is set fine. My body feels rested and full of energy like a spring ready to …well “spring”.

Tomorrow a big fish and chip supper.

Saturday will be an early start and I will be supporting Helen in her Fleetwood 10k. Go Helen Go !

On Sunday I hope to call myself a marathon runner.

Let’s hope my dream doesn’t end up like the Fleetwood pier.

A week to go

Well the Fleetwood marathon is only a week away and I am really looking forward to the challenge.

We were away in Cornwall for over a week and this did mean I had to tinker with my training regime mainly due to travelling when I needed to do my long runs. I had to cut back on the mileage a little but made sure I did my long run of 18 miles. This was a killer ! 6 laps of 3 miles around our holiday cottage in Marazion including a very steep incline (6 times) and an additional hill. I did it though in a respectable time but Cornwall is a tough place to run.

On our return I did a 14 miler but felt absolutely exhausted from mile one and nearly had to call Helen out to come and collect me. I think the 18 miler the previous week, together with the travelling had just wiped me out.

I have decided to take it easy for the last two weeks and jump off the programme. I just need to make sure I get to the starting line fairly fresh. I think I have built up the endurance and rest is more important at this stage. I proved that this week. After my poor run on Monday I took 2 days off and ran superbly well on Thursday and pretty well today. I have run just 4 days this week and aim to take it even easier next.

For those that don’t know much about long distance running – this tapering down is generally the way to tackle a marathon. It gives the muscles time to build up stored glycogen (through carbo loading) and then hopefully off you go on the big day like an uncoiled spring.

I have reached the conclusion that my regime just didn’t suit me. I was slowing and feeling weaker and weaker rather than improving form. The programme I followed was an old style programme based on mileage. Next time I’m going to go for quality of training runs rather than quantity and see how that works out.

One reason why I chose the old style programme was the mileage involved. This now means I am way past Bordeaux and if my calculations are correct I will be crossing the Spanish border towards the end of my marathon. That would be nice ! Depends how much I run next week though.

I’m getting really excited now rather than scared. I will be aiming for a solid 4:30 marathon but my main goal is to run the whole thing without walking – whatever the time. Bring it on.

Beautiful St.Michael’s mount in Cornwall