Greetings All! I ran
a marathon on Sunday! Yes – another one!
Right, I know what
you’re thinking. And you’re right: there is a lot of waffle ahead. So here’s an
abridged version of this post:
1) Travelled up to
Chester – two buses, three trains
2) Had a great time
with the rest of the team – Simon, John, Catherine, Philip, Judith, Lucy, Mike, Sarah, Lorna, Adele, Rachel, Darren, Natalie
3) Ran 26.2mi in
3:31’03” – most of them with Andrew
4) Travelled back Darn
Saath
That’s pretty much my
story. You can get on with your life now. Although, if… you know, if you want a
little more detail…
…really?
Gee – thanks!
1)
TRAVELING UP
Left home at 10:54,
as per plan… armed with five bagels, three packets of Shot Blok, half a dozen Clif
Bars, an assortment of cereal bars, two bananas, a jar of nuts and a portion of
granola in a Nesquik tub… took a bus to Bristol, a bus to Temple Meads, a train
to Stafford, a train to Crewe and…
…yay, a train to
Chester!
Five sub-journeys by
public transport, each and every one of them on time. A promising start to the
weekend…
…I’d allowed for a
cab to the hotel but walked out of Chester Train Station only to see a bus for
Wrexham across the road. Given the
hotel was on Wrexham Road, I thought I’d see if perchance it would be
passing it – and got lucky! Again! Checked into hotel around 16:30, perfectly
on plan… unpacked, laid out the kit… realised my phone only had a signal right
by the window, which was not necessarily a bad thing (reduced distractions)…
. . .
2)
HANGING OUT WITH THE TEAM
…went down to head to
the nearby Spar for a pint of milk… nipped into the bar to see if anyone else
was around… saw Simon and John waiting for the start of ManU-Sunderland… joined
them, delaying trip to Spar… nipped over to buy for my ‘customary’ pint of
milk, left it in my room… got back down to the bar where we were soon joined by
The Kelly Family… downed a few more pints of orange juice with water as all
around me alcohol abounded… nipped upstairs for a quick bagel…
…time passed and the
rest of the team arrived. The laughter flowed. It was my first time of meeting
John, Adele, Lorna, Natalie, Rachel and Darren: hopefully not the last! Of
those six, only Lorna and the Gibsons (Rachel and Darren) would actually be
running: Adele and Natalie would be marshalling, John had come to support and
watch. As I carry on down my journey into the underworld of running, that layer
just below the better-known images of runners with anything between a beaming
smile and a pain-fuelled grimace crossing the finishing line, I continue to be
amazed by the camaraderie and the sheer existence of non-local people who give
up their weekend to allow fellow runners to have a good time. In my mind, all
volunteers were local, maybe members of local running clubs, Lions, the WI or
whatever… the thought of folk spending a weekend away to marshal had totally
eluded me. Thanks!
We eventually sat
down for our Pasta Party at 20:30: not a culinary event of note, but just what
we needed half a day before the run began. The meal had a feel that was half school
trip, half elite sports team at an away fixture… so, all in all, it smelled like
team spirit!
I’m not one for
small-talk, which doesn’t make me the most fun guy at parties. Karen and I are
off to one tomorrow night where we only really know the hosts… I’ve told her
I’d rather stay home and play LEGO, but she’s having none of it! Anyway – why
am I telling you this? Ah yes, I remember now…
…as we sat down for
dinner on Saturday, I specifically sat at a table with people I’d never met
until that day, namely Darren, Rachel and John. In any other situation, I would
probably not have done that. But this was running: I knew there’d be something
to talk about that would interest us all, rather than small-talk with polite /
hypocritical (you choose!) nodding…
…and what a great
choice I made! We had a great conversation (or maybe that’s just indicative of
my standards?), starting from running but covering other ground. I’m not great
at hiding when a conversation is boring me, not least because I don’t enjoy being
false. There was no hiding required on Saturday! Thanks Guys!
Once the pasta had
been eaten, conversations from different tables blended into one as we chatted
about previous races, goals, the Cheshire gym scene, offroad vehicles… about
everything and nothing, but all with an underlying feeling of friendship that
I, for one, have no right to associate with people I’ve seen so few times, with
people I’d only met a few hours prior. But that’s running for you – something
I’m delighted to have discovered. Finally.
The conversation
could have flowed for hours, especially had we facilitated matters further with
a few alcoholic refreshments. But we were good: we knew there was a job to be
done and sleep aplenty to be got. So we called it a night relatively early.
Well, gone 10pm, but… look, I’m told that for folk who don’t go running before
breakfast that’s early!
. . .
3)
RACE DAY
As per usual, didn’t
have the greatest night’s sleep pre-race. Adrenaline can be a double-edged
sword, not least when it kicks in the night before! But I read myself to sleep
with “The Runner’s Literary Companion” and, after some very light sleep until
around 1am, managed to get some kip.
I’d set my alarm for
06:06, but was unsurprisingly awake before. Had breakfast in my room, not
courtesy of room service but courtesy of the granola I’d brought up from
Portishead and the milk I’d bought from the Spar. Now, warm milk is a pet hate
of mine: however, it’s a challenge to avoid it in the practical but
unspectacular hotels I use ahead of races, as minibars don’t tend to feature.
That’s where a bin and some cold water help limit the damage:
After granola and
a(nother) bagel, I headed for my usual pre-race bath. It might be improper to
talk about ‘routine’ ahead of just a second marathon, but I’m working on it!
Having filled one of the Boys’ old bubble mixture containers with Radox®, I
treated myself to my seventeen minutes of pre-marathon music. As per Manchester:
Each song works for
me on its own and as part of this special quartet. Together they cover all the
angles that got me to enter, train and run a race. Just the job.
Got out, got dry, got
dressed, finalised the packing (got most of it done the night before – so
shortly after arriving, yes!)… and headed downstairs to meet Simon and Lorna to
head off to the Racecourse. It was a tad muddy underfoot, but I managed to keep
my newish Brooks clean until finding some plastic covers in the main tent. The
organisers had really covered all angles.
Ah yes, the shoe
debate… This was my third pair of Green Silence. I’d broken into them during
the week, aware that it was around the level of mileage I was at with my second
pair (804) that I’d started having a few niggles whilst wearing my first pair
(813). I never did figure out if there was a correlation: but 800 miles is a decent
return on a £35 investment (~2.1875p/mile/shoes), so figured I’d go with the
new pair. Had I really got my feet used to them? I sure felt fine… and besides,
they are an identical replacement… hmmm… Either way, I’d packed both, just in
case… but went with the new.
We laughed and
cajoled for a good hour, killing time. The human body dictates a three-hour
window between breakfast and race start, just like a mass gathering of human
bodies dictate long queues at portaloos. It’s hard to over-estimate the importance
of a generous loos:bowels ratio for runners, and Chester did not disappoint.
Calms the nerves, takes out of the equation one time calculation*… and, on a
day when you’re busy working out permutations and implications of all sorts of
distance / pace scenarios, that’s a welcome removal!
It was good to meet
Andrew, who’d driven up that morning. It’s always good to meet Andrew,
particularly so on this occasion as he’d kindly agreed to try and pace me to
3:30. He’d only signed up on the Monday, taking the place of Susie who couldn’t make it, so
hadn’t been focusing on this race: but then Andrew’s always ready, certainly
for a steady (by his standards) 3:30. Until Sunday morning we’d not discussed
strategies, so I wasn’t sure whether his suggestion would be a steady 8’/mi
pace or a more aggressive start allowing for a slower second half. To my relief
his approach was an uncomplicated, steady pace, which allowed us to follow the
official pace team – which, until Andrew offered to help me, was going to be my
plan anyway. This meant that, in some respects, little had changed: I was still
following The Sign. But I had Andrew by my side, which allowed for some
conversation from time to time. I’m not one for talking while running, simply
because a) I generally run alone and b) breath is a valuable commodity. But I’d
long been thinking that I never really got to chat much to Andrew after the
High Peak 40 Challenge, so if nothing else I was going to put that right in
Cheshire…
9am was soon upon us.
I left it relatively late to join the loo queue and, by the time I was out of
there, the rest of TeamChester had dispersed. I found them before the start,
sure enough: it always helps when one of you is wearing a pink tutu with floppy
ears. Yes, that was Mike alright. He’d run a 3:28’50” PB in Nottingham the
previous week, so he was taking this one ‘easy’ – looking to pace Simon to a
3:40’ PB.
And so we were off,
in that spirit of loneliness and togetherness that anyone who’s ever run a race
knows. Headed out through the centre of Chester, out towards the countryside
and Wales, back into Chester and into the Racecourse for the finish. Got warmer
as the legs grew wearier; nicely supported in pockets were entire village communities
seemed to come out; not exactly mountainous but hilly in places, a challenge
worsened by the locals’ well-intentioned shouts of “It’s the last hill!” which
were nothing but a bunch of lies!!! Towards the finish I kept thinking “this
must be the last corner”, generally erroneously – but got there in the end!
Ooh… hang on…
…have I just spelt
out the entire race in a single para? Ooops – better find summat else to waffle
on about!)
Right… I’d best
replace “detailed race commentary” with “random race thoughts”!
Early on in the race Andrew
and I were alongside a blind runner, linked to his guide at the wrists. I
hesitate to use the world ‘pacer’ as the blind runner didn’t seem to need much
pacing. As he correctly identified our surroundings, my admiration just
skyrocketed. Because running a marathon isn’t just about turning up on the day.
You can’t just bluff a 26.2mi run: you need to put in the hours, the miles, the
sweat. And the notion of doing that without being able to see, needing to arrange
company, maybe lifts… that just blows my mind. I wish I could recall the race
number so as to look up his time, but I suspect he finished ten minutes or so
ahead of me. I certainly don’t recall leaving him behind.
I’m happy with the
consistency of my paces. Here’s a breakdown of my twenty-seven splits:
Sub-8': 15 (fastest mile: 3, in 7’45”)
8:00-8:15': 9
8:16-8:30: 1 (24, 8’29”)
over 8:30: 2 (23 and 25, 8’35 and 8’37”
respectively)
 |
Yup, there's the hairy monster!
Thanks Natalie! |
Average pace was
8’02” – a full six seconds faster than in Manchester. However, this is where
GPS discrepancies can ruin statistics – for those 6”/mi only equated to an
improvement of 15” over the 26.2mi. That’s because my Garmin thinks I ran more
than 26.2mi in Chester… so, whilst it’s good to have the stats to analyse, it’s
dangerous to over-analyse. My summary thoughts on my race:
…I ran six of my last
thirteen miles at sub-8’/mi pace, plus the final 493 yards (as my Garmin
reckons) at 7’41”. In Manchester, I only ran one mile at sub-8’ pace in the
second half of the race. At times I may have felt I was struggling as much as
in Manchester, but the reality is that I was in better shape, going faster in
the process.
So – why not
sub-3h30’?
Good question.
Conditions were different: it was warmer and it was hillier. The stats don’t
back that up particularly well, showing a narrow win for the Chester course of
just 579-554ft: but it felt like more than that. And it was warmer. We’re not
talking Marathone des Sables
warm, of course not: but, especially in the final third, you feel it…
 |
Thanks John!
(I am working on a different reaction,
honest! I'm not Alan Shearer!) |
…other than that, I
can’t tell you. Yes, my pace dropped at mi23 as it did in April: but, whilst my
last four miles splits in the Greater Manchester Marathon were 8’27”, 8’45”, 8’55”
and 8’45”, in Chester they were
8’35”, 8’29”, 8’37”
and 8’06”. Small differences, but when I was looking to beat Manchester by just
79 seconds…
…and my fifteen
sub-8’ miles in Chester meant I’d managed six more than in Manchester. But,
ultimately, all that matters is the average – and the total time it gives you.
I needed sub-8’/mi average and I didn’t get it. Was I gutted?
I was gutted during
the final mile, because in the three miles building up to it I’d calculated
that I’d given myself a shot at it but the basis for my calculations –the
distance my Garmin was giving me– misled me. Not that I’d kept anything in
reserve: by then I’d given it my best shot so 3:31’03” is a true reflection of
what I could achieve on the day. But sure, it was frustrating to run those last
few minutes having realised that, actually, no sprint finish was going to stop
the clock before that second ‘3’ appeared…
…and then I crossed
the line. A quick glance at the Garmin: 3:31’01”, here’s hoping they knock off
two seconds! Ultimately the official chip time was 3:31’03” – still a PB! And
no, I wasn’t gutted…
…because I wasn’t
alone! I was surrounded by people with whom I’d shared that experience and soon
recognised some friendly faces. I didn’t spot Darren, which is kinda odd given
we finished just forty-one seconds apart (in gun time terms – a mere six in
terms of chip times), with only seven people separating us – but then eyesight
ain’t 20:20 as you’re finishing a marathon! It’s all… well yes, a bit of a
blur.
Mike and Simon
finished together a few minutes after that, Simon elated at breaking his PB by
over ten minutes (3:34’37”) – as he should be! I also reacquainted myself with
Andrew, who’d left me with about half a dozen miles to go to finish in
3:27’17”. I’d actually managed to catch the pace group once during the race:
I’d not fallen too far behind, but even twenty yards can be hard to make up
when they require acceleration at a time when that’s the last thing you want to
be doing. I didn’t sprint: I just kept up and, slowly, crept back. And having
Andrew, a known figure, to focus on, rather than just staring at a pool of
nameless shirts, helped. When I started to fall behind a second time, I
couldn’t halt the gap from forming. Nor did it help that nobody was overtaking
me and that I was passing runners along the way: in your mind I knew the ones I
was passing were not going to break 3:30’, so it was of no consolation
whatsoever to me. One of the runners I passed in the process was Philip, who
was visibly struggling having, by his own subsequent analysis, gone off too
fast. It’s not comfortable, passing a friend who’s having a tough time: and I
know others might have slowed down and tried to offer some support for a mile
or so. I just don’t have that generosity of spirit: or, at the very least, I
didn’t have it in me at a time when I still had an outside shot at 3:30’ and,
quite frankly, there’s not much I could have done for Philip. My self-serving
diagnosis was that he was probably more comfortable being left alone and it is
to his credit that he finished in 3:41’17”: in isolation that may appear to be
a disappointing time for him, but the guts he showed to claw it out will come
in handy should he ever need to dig deep again.
Catherine came in at
3:40’20”, Chris at 3:54’24”. We were all greeted by Sarah, complete with
chocolate milk and plastic cups – the perfect recovery drink! Indeed, the
perfect tonic in every sense. I was a very proud member of #teamchester and I
was delighted to share in that camaraderie once more. And not for the last
time.
Team Chester’s Team Photo - taken by @OgdenRunner
…and yes, that is MY head on MY body! It has not been superimposed!!!
I managed to get a
shower, which was good for body and soul alike. Those good folk at Chester
Racecourse had thought of everything: they’d ensured there wouldn’t be a drop
of hot water, so as to provide the next best thing to an ice bath!
It was good to share
in that dressing room camaraderie, too. I don’t know what it’s like for girls,
but when you get a bunch of boys in a dressing room the banter flows better
than the water. It’s who we are, it’s how we enjoy our sports – be they
football, basketball, running… With the difference that, with running, there
are no hidden agendas: you’re not fighting the guy next to him for a place in
the start-up, you’re not blaming him for not passing to you in front of goal or
for having the ball bounce over his head and end up in goal. Individual as
running is, it lends itself to support more than any team sport. Not that we
were having these discussions as we queued for the ice-cold showers, mind: it
was just jokes, smiles, laughter. The way sport should be.
Before I go any
further…
…there can be no
doubt as to whose was the stand-out performance of the day. Lorna came home in
3:20’09”: 13th in category, PB, just a superlative performance! And this from
someone who, over dinner the previous night, said she wasn’t sure what to
expect and was just going to see how things went… the typically astute Mr Wells
had pointed out that she had the best PB amongst the diners (Andrew not being
with us!) and that she’d probably do well… though neither of them, implicitly
or explicitly, was thinking that
well!
I digress… where were
we? Ah yes – Chester Racecourse! And we’ll be there for some time!
I saw The Gibsons as they were having a romantic photo taken and discovered that a) Darren and I had just about finished side-by-side and b) Rachel had come in in 4:25’47”. I met back with Simon
and Lorna to jump into the car for a lift to the train station. Well, I say
jump… it was more of a hobble! And there was definitely no sprinting in the
car, as we waited to move. And waited. And waited. And waited. And… suddenly I
couldn’t wait any longer!
I jum… I got out of
the car and set off to walk. Rather fittingly after my 3:31’ time, my train was
at 3:31pm – so yes, I may book myself on a 2:15 train next year and just see
what happens! Anyway, much as my legs grumbled, I had no choice. Initial
directions and time estimates from a volunteer were not encouraging:
fortunately, whilst a cabbie was unable to give me a ride, his knowledge of the
area was more reliable and so I eventually reached the platform with… ten
minutes to spare!
Chester did appear to have been taken over by Smurfs by that point, as an army of us were walking around in our post-race shirt! The train ride back
Darn Saath was fairly uneventful: iPod on, iPhone for tweets galore (when
coverage permitted!)… I got to Bristol on time and caught a cab home. Indeed,
on a weekend of three buses, five trains and a taxi, the taxi was the only one
running late! £27 for a 25’ ride but hey, I needed to get home. To order pizza
for Karen and me, to show Roberto my shiny medal… to just be back, be there. It
had been a fantabulous weekend with some great friends, but it was hometime.
Now, just a couple of
thoughts before I sign off…
Going back to Lorna’s
stormer…
…she seemed genuine enough the evening before the race when she said she didn’t know what time to aim for!
And that’s the thing
with running: you train, you plan, but ultimately you still have to run the
ruddy things. Sometimes you do better than you planned; others you do worse.
Equally, sometimes you have a lot of confidence in your goal estimate, other
times you treat your own estimates with a degree of caution. In this case, I wasn’t
treating my 3:30’ goal as much more than indicative: I’d done a lot of running
over the summer, but I’d not really done much marathon training. My number one challenge had been ensuring that I
had the stamina for the High Peak 40 Challenge: and I’d achieved that. It left
two weeks for my legs not only to recover, but also to reacquaint themselves
with 8’/mi pacing. Now don’t get me wrong, I fully understand that it sounds
crazy to comment on having to find a faster pace for a marathon… but, in a
world where all is relative, that was the case for me! I had tapered very
conservatively for Chester, never running more than 3.5mi in the week building
up to it. But my ultra was still in my legs in some shape or form, for sure. Do
I regret that? Yes, I guess I do. But I’ll still do HP40 and Chester next year…
I might just drop the Half Marathon in between! But then that was the Half
Marathon the kids (and Karen) came to see… the one where I met Rich, who only
two days ago cycled all the way from Bristol to drop off some trail shoes for
me… oooh, leaving out races is tough! I’ll just take a FlexiFletch approach,
i.e. do what Andrew does and leave some selections closer to the event date.
Now there’s a thought..!
And therein lays a
challenge for me as I finalise my planning for 2014. I can choose the races I’d
like to do: but I cannot schedule them. I cannot increase the gap between
races. I cannot resolve scheduling conflicts as I can do at my desk with
Outlook… so there will be races I won’t be able to run. Two known casualties:
An early indication
of my clash resolution strategy appears to be to go for the longer race… well,
there might be some truth in there! It reflects my great enjoyment for longer
races as well as the fact that, if I’m going to disrupt my (and my family’s)
weekends, I might as well taken on the greater challenge. Bristol HM was my
first; Sheffield HM is where I set my current PB and is… well, in Sheffield.
But sorry – I never thought I’d ever choose Lancashire over Yorkshire, at
anything, under any circumstance… then again, it is the Greater Manchester Marathon, with most of it run in Cheshire, so
I’m not being as unfaithful as it sounds.
So – that’s 2013 for
you, Folk. I’ve still got the Portishead
HM on October 20, two days after landing back from Boston, USA: I plan to
pin a note to the back of my shirt saying “I’m jetlagged” for when I run past spectators
who know me, should they be wondering why I’m not actually doing that great…
And I’ve got the Wyvern
Christmas Cracker 10k in December. But that’s it, racing-wise – other than
something (local) on November 7 I’d like to do, but I really need to check that
with Karen first!
But it’ll be 2014
before you know it. My plan’s all but finalised, as are my three key
objectives: the goals that will get me out of bed on dark and cold mornings,
that will get me round a 10k run through rain and snow, that will keep me away
from the perils of drink in the build-up to races… all stuff that’s good for
heart and soul, in some way or another.
Oh, you want to see
my 2014 plan? Find out what those three key objectives are? You serious?!
 |
Mike being Mike.
I ran 40mi with this bloke! |
Wow… and there’s me,
thinking you don’t really care… Tell you what: come back another time. Let’s
say October 15. I’ll probably have it finalised by then. And I’ll be only too
happy to bore you through it.
One last set of links before I sign off, my friends. The links at the start
take you to #teamchester’s Twitter profiles. With the race run, here are those
names again – this time linking to their race photos:
- with, once again,
humungous thanks to Lorna, Natalie and John for taking the time to cheer us on en
route – and to Sarah, Judith and Lucy for being there at the end! Oh, and to
Andrew (who, having not registered directly, hasn’t been tagged for photos) for
his company in historic Chester and scenic Cheshire – only fair that a
thoroughbred got to the Racecourse first!
Oh, did I mention Mike ran in a tutu? No, don’t think I did. I focused on the surprising stuff. And, frankly, Mike running in a tutu is just perfectly normal. But I guess it’s worth a mention – and a picture!
And did I mention that October 6 was day 365 of Simon’s runstreak? No wonder he brought it to an end at the top of his game!
 |
Because his postie should be proud
to be delivering mail to his house! |
Runstreak: A streak of consecutive days when one has run at
least one uninterrupted mile. Simon’s began with Chester Marathon 2012 and ended with Chester
Marathon 2013. It started with a 3:52’02” marathon and ended with a 3:34’47” marathon
– as I felt obliged to point out on the envelope in which I posted the contents
of his goodie bag which I accidentally stole when I headed out to catch my
train!
Well done, that man!
* as a fan of The
Clash, I don’t want to insult their art. But something about the title ‘Should I Stay Or Should I
Go’ makes the punk/pop classic an apt pre-race theme…
