Marathon Training - Week 1 plus.

Now, the plan for my blog in the run up to the Milton Keynes Marathon isn't to give you a blow by blow breakdown of every run, every training session, every mile covered, but as I've just finished Week 1 of my 16 week plan I thought now would be a good opportunity to set out my stall.  Also, in all honesty, this week did not exactly work out as I thought it would.

I've based my plan on the one that I used for the Yorkshire Marathon in 2015.  It's an amalgam of training plans that I had found online with the excellent Marathon Plan from Graeme Hilditch's book as it's backbone.  This got me around York in 3:59:38, a time that I'd love to emulate in Milton Keynes, so I have no real reason to change things too much.

In a nutshell I'll be running 4-5 times a week, with my LSR* on Sunday being no more than 50% of my weekly milage.  As the distances of my Sunday runs increase so will the distance and frequency of my weekday runs.  I'll be mixing up hills, tempo runs, fartlek, and speed sessions during the week and keeping Sunday long and slow.

That said, last week was week 1 of my training plan and it didn't quite go as I had expected.  A good friend (hello Adam) had pulled out of The Brass Monkey Half Marathon, and foolishly I bought his place from him, so week 1 would end with a half marathon that I had not trained for.  This was not in the book!

I had not run a half marathon since the Dalby Forest half in July last year.  I had managed the odd 10 mile run since then but I was fairly sure that I was on a fool's mission.  The Sunday before the Brass Monkey I took to the Leeds Liverpool Canal and strode out for a 12 mile run, aiming for 9 minute miles to give me the confidence that I could at least cover the distance of the race at a little under the magical 9:09 pace of a 4 hour marathon.

With that LSR in the bag, and a couple of mid week 10ks, I set off for York with a couple of likley lads from South Leeds for company.  I was happy that I could run the distance and wasn't bothered about the time, this was to be the first part of my MK Marathon journey not an end in itself.  I bumped into a couple of other friends from Leeds before taking my place optimistically in the sub 1:45 pen.  I was stood in close to freezing temperatures, wearing little more than a vest with a number pinned to it and shorts, and race day delerium had set in.  I was not going to manage 1:45 but I could dream of past glory.

The race started and, for the first time in over a year, I was racing on tarmac**.  The route took us South of York through Bishopthorpe and Acaster Selby before hitting Appleton Roebuck and heading North towards the finish.  I was keeping better time than I had anticipated and, due to my choice of vest, was getting cheers and comments from runners and spectators alike. 

 

However, by the time I got to mile ten my legs were feeling the lack of training.  Every step reminded me of a lacklustre summer and an over indulgent Christmas.  I knew my pace was dropping and then a knight in shining armour came to my aid.  Chris Sawyer, a parkrun friend from Cross Flatts, caught up to me and in passing told me to drop into his wake.  I've never slipstreamed a runner before so I don't know how effective it was, but matching Chris' pace for a mile was exactly what I needed.  Left to my own devices I would probably have dropped to a crawl and limped home with my tail between my legs.

We got back through Bishopthorpe and struck out to the finish at the Knavesmire.  I had the bit between my teeth and was determined to keep my new found pace to the end of the race.  The supporters and faster finishers who lined the home straight were fantastic,  I even got a shout out from the man with the tannoy mic as I was crossing the line.  I had done it.

 

One of my goals last year was to become fit enough to run a decent pace for a half marathon without having to specifically train for it.  I had thought that goal was long lost, but it turns out I had managed to get myself to a position where I could enter a half at short notice and run a good time.  I had wanted to go under 2 hours at the start of the race so to finish with a new PB of 1:41:48 was astounding and a feat that I'm still struggling to come to terms with.

Click on the pic to enter the MK Marathon

I am training for the Milton Keynes Marathon on the 1st May and have been selected to be one of their ambasadors.  I am also raising money for Bliss the premature baby charity.  You can find my Just Giving page here.

*Long Slow Run
** Last year I swore myself off road races after too many runs up and down Kirkstall Road.

A Tale of Two Shirts

Back in October I, along with countless others, was eagerly awaiting the outcome of the London Marathon ballot. I'd already missed out two years in a row so I managed to convince myself that this time I'd be the one getting the "You're In" magazine.  Sadly I was mistaken.  I now have a hat-trick of "Sorry" magazines and a trio of London Marathon branded winter training tops.  To say I felt a bit deflated is an understatement.  I had already missed out on a place in the Paris Marathon but was determined that I wanted to find a spring marathon for this year to keep me running during winter, and to mark my 40th birthday in April.

I know that I could have applied for a charity place to run London, but having had to raise money to take part in the TrailTrekk I knew how much pressure was involved in raising large sums of money, and I didn't want that on top of having to find the time to train for a marathon.

Rather than sticking a pin in a map to find my next big race I asked running forums, Twitter, Facebook, Uncle Tom Cobley and all, for their recommendations and came up with a short-list of four marathons which kind of fit the bill.  They were, in alphabetical order; Blackpool, Brighton, Edinburgh, and Milton Keynes. I had a good look at all four, price, route, and importantly, the logistics required for me to run them and the family to come along and watch.

Blackpool would have been done in a day, with no need for a stopover, so was winning hands down on cost and logistics, but the route looks tedious*.  I had heard good things about Brighton but it ain't cheap and I have very few favours to pull in around that neck of the woods, so it would have been a hotel.  Of course all of the hotels know that it's the marathon, so prices were already creeping up.  That left Edinburgh and MK, two cities that I have strong links with.

The majority of my family comes from (and still lives in) Edinburgh, so finding somewhere to stay would not be an issue.  I've been visiting Auld Reekie all of my life and I felt like I knew the route quite well and could visualise how the run would pan out.  Milton Keynes, however, is the town I grew up in from the age of 10 until I went to University.  I still have friends who live there that we could potentially stay with but, and this was the clincher, there are huge sections of the route that I used to play on, cycle on, fish along, when I was growing up.  As a race to mark my 40th birthday there could be no other, with its obvious links to my past.  I duly signed up to what will be my second marathon and my first of 2017.

I know that I said that I didn't want a charity place for London, but I decided to try and raise a bit of money for Bliss, a charity that I have fund-raised for in the past following the premature birth of our first son.  The difference in my mind is there is no target.  I can run, put my head into running the best marathon I can, and not have to worry about constantly asking people for money, or worrying about having to find the money to top up the donations should I not raise enough.

Mr Ambassador.

Having signed up for the Milton Keynes Marathon I have subsequently been selected as an ambassador for the race weekend.  Being an ambassador does not come with golden chocolate balls but it does entail writing blogs like this one and encouraging others to take part**. I also got a snazzy t-shirt to wear on my training runs and, for full disclosure, I got my entry fee back as well, which is nice.  On top of all that, having decided to raise money for Bliss, I have also received one of their running vests to wear on the big day.

Come race day this will have my name written all over it.

So between now and the 1st May, I will be blogging my training progress, and sharing my thoughts and reminiscences on the route, especially the section between miles 8 and 17.  I am very proud to be an ambassador for the town which shaped me growing up, I'm excited about running past so many landmarks and landscapes that have played such a large part of my life, and I am once again humbled and thankful for the work that Bliss do to help families of children who are born prematurely or sick.

*I could be wrong.

**Hello Iain, Duncan, and Hannah.

Interested in joining the fun of the MK Marathon, or 1/2 marathon? Click on the link for more info.

Leeds Christmas 10k Challenge

Here is my latest review, first published on Run Leeds December 16, 2016.

***

With so many races to choose from these days it's nice when the organisers make life easier and give their runs a meaningful name. It's fairly obvious that the Leeds 10k is a 10k race in Leeds.  The same goes for the London Marathon, it's a marathon in London.  The Great North Run is much more vague with no clues as to where or what you are entering in the title.  The organisers of the Leeds Christmas 10k Challenge have named their race perfectly.  It's in Leeds, it's 10k, and it takes place around Christmas.  It does exactly what it says on the tin.  There is one ambiguity though, the "Challenge".


Having taken part in the Leeds Christmas 10k Challenge for the last two years it is now clear in my mind what the challenge is.  It isn't an obstacle course.  There are tougher runs out there, not that the Christmas 10k isn't a tough hilly run.  But nothing (to my knowledge) has such a wide range of running surfaces to contend with.  The route covers running track, open grassy fields, tarmac, bridleways, and muddy root-strewn paths.  The only thing missing is a river crossing and I think everything would be covered.  So for me the "challenge" come race day is whether to wear road or trail shoes.


There was a new route for this year's Christmas 10k.  Gone were the dreaded steps of Scrooge Hill, but the rest of the route was similar to the previous years.  Starting with a lap and a half of the running track at South Leeds Stadium, you then cross the training fields towards Middleton Railway's Park Halt Station and a short sharp climb before entering Middleton Woods and running the length of the disused Tramway.  Another short steep section from the Tramway to the Rose Garden and the long descent on the Wagon Way, before doing the whole thing again and finishing back at the stadium.


I had been keeping an eye on the weather in the build up to the race to try and gauge whether trail shoes would be needed.  There had been some rain during the week but not much, so I went for a pair of road shoes that I didn't mind getting a bit mucky, hoping that I would want them more on the fast down hills rather than needing extra grip from trail shoes on the off road sections.


Having collected my number from the Phoenix Bar at South Leeds Stadium I made my way track-side to soak up the pre-race atmosphere.  Lots of the gathering runners were in "festive" running wear and one tor two had gone the whole hog on the fancy dress front.  Any number of Santas and Elves were joined by a tree, a Christmas cracker and an oven ready turkey.  Suddenly my choice of footwear didn't seem like the biggest challenge of the day.

Pre-race photo opportunity

Eventually we got under way.  As it was a new course this year I hadn't bothered to check my previous times, happy instead to test my fitness.  Last month's Holly Hustle had highlighted just how off the pace I had become, but I'd put in some decent runs in the meantime and wanted to complete the Christmas 10k in under 50 minutes. 



The start was a bit 'stop start' as the throng of runners was funnelled over the timing mat, but I soon found room to run the long way around the outside of the running track, whilst everyone else tried to run the racing line around the inside of the bends.  Out of the stadium and onto the grass my road shoes were far from ideal so far but then we hit the platform and the tarmac and they came into their own.  I was through 1km in around 4:30, perfect pace, but with two long climbs to come.  I felt good but could I hold on to the pace for nine more kilometres?


I'm not sure how many times I've run on the Tramway.  It feels like it goes on forever, slowly taking you up higher and higher through the ancient woodland that once connected Huddersfield and Nottingham.  It's a knobbly bridleway these days but it was mostly dry without any muddy puddles to ford so my trainers were still doing well.  Last year the route left the Tramway with a sharp left halfway up, but the new route took us right to the summit before a scramble up a muddy bank towards the Rose Garden. 



I'd been trailing a friend from parkrun who is much faster than me but the runner in front of me stopped to walk up the final section of the climb and I had no option but to walk too.  My friend and unwitting pacer, who was further ahead, pressed on and a gap opened up.  Once we were back running we got onto a 100% new section of the route, a slight downhill weaving between trees, then a short climb before popping out at the Middleton Park Visitor Centre and the long downhill on the Wagon Way.  My pace was still good, despite the enforced walk, but I knew that the second time up the Tramway would be a struggle.  I was right.


I passed the water station at 5k and onto the climb back into the woods.  The elevation was starting to take it's toll.  I knew I was slowing down but also knew that I had it in me to get to the top of the Tramway again.  The pack had thinned so there was no excuse for slowing other than fatigue.  I hit the short muddy section to the Rose Garden and, for the first time, regretted my shoe choice.  The runnable slope had been churned up on the first pass by the 500+ runners on the first lap.


My road shoes slipped under my tired legs, I took a much wider line to find solid ground, and I ran up the hill which I had been forced to run up on the previous route, but I was spent.  The determination to run the final hill had taken so much out of me that I was struggling for breath.  I couldn't gulp the air in fast enough on the descent back to the train station and the stadium, and the dream of a sub 50 finish was looking like it would remain a dream.

But, as I crossed the finish line at the home of Hunslet Hawks I stopped my watch and was astounded at my finish time.  I was light years behind the winner but I had managed my sub 50 dream with a time of 48:45.  I later discovered that my PB on the previous route was 50:03 so a course and race PB and a well deserved mince pie!


The Leeds Christmas 10k Challenge had once again lived up to it's perfect name.  The new route, two long laps rather than three short ones, was good.  Personally I'd like to see the steps brought back but I really liked the section between the Rose Garden and the Wagon Way, so on balance I think the change is a good one.  My racing is now over for another year and I'm happy that once again the Leeds 10k Challenge has rounded off another great year of running.

The Buggy Club

When I started running, back in 2012, there was no question about running with my son.  He was the reason I bought my first pair of trainers and set off on 4 years of pavement pounding, he's still the main reason that still I run to this day, but we've never been running buddies*.

He was 2, I was a poorly constructed mass of suet held together in a clingfilm exoskeleton, I could only just get myself around Cross Flatts Park without needing resuscitation, never mind pushing him in his buggy whilst trying to run the distance!

Apart from the physical size and weight of a 2 year old, and my considerable girth, there is no way that I would have considered taking him running.  I wasn't up to the job but then neither was his buggy.  We live in a compact Victorian terrace, use public transport, and have a small car.  Our buggy reflected these aspects of life.  It was a compact, light weight, could turn on a sixpence, but had solid wheels and no suspension.

Perfect for our needs but not for running as I discovered recently.  The 2 year old is now 6 and he has a little brother.  I am 4 years healthier and, for one reason or another, decided to take the newest member of the family out for a run.  I say run, it was the middle of the day, he needed a nap and I needed some fresh air, so we headed to the park for a walk.  I knew that I had a one hour window so I thought I'd walk the parkrun route with him.

Dressed in civvies** we made our way to the start line, and for some reason, I decided to run.  Neither of us were ready but we made it around the 5k route with some encouraging smiles and nods from other park users.  I had taken it steady because I wasn't dressed for running.  I was knackered, but I decided that I should do this on Saturday at parkrun and get an official time.

The problem with rocking up at parkrun (even a small one like ours) with a buggy is that they are an embuggerance on the start line.  I headed towards the back of the grid and set off for another steady run.  I was far from my usual parkrun pace but I was well aware of my buggy's limitations, especially on the pot-holed sections of the park path.

We crossed the finish line in a respectable 27+ minutes, but I was already trying to workout where I could save some time.  I had walked a passed the worst of the pot-holes, and on the detour around the steps.  If I could eliminate the walks then I would start seeing the times come down.

The following week we lined up again, ready to push through the up hill struggles and managed to claw back some time to set a buggy PB of 27:30.  But I couldn't leave it there, I knew there was more I could do, I knew I could push a buggy (and it's precious cargo) around much faster, but I also knew that I couldn't do it with our buggy.  I needed a decent set of wheels to really see some improvements.

Cut forward a month or two and I now have that new set of wheels.  A second (or third) hand Red Castle Jogger which has better breaks than my bike.  In comparison to our original buggy it is massive.  It's so big, even collapsed, that it has to live in the cellar when not in use. But size is important, especially for the wheels.  We can now cruse over the parkrun pot-holes as if they were not there.

Red is fast, right?

At the first opportunity I took C and his massive wheels back to parkrun to see if the big wheel theory would work, and sure enough we crushed our time finishing with a new buggy PB of 25:59 a minute and a half faster that we had achieved with the city stroller.  The improvements now will be down to me getting fitter and stronger.  Sub 25 is beckoning me and my new running buddy in his new running buggy, I might just need to get scythes or a snow plough fitted to get through the crowds on the start line.

*hopefully that will change now that he's started going to junior parkrun.
**cotton t-shirt, jeans, converse, not running kit, you get the idea.

Holly Hustle 2016

I'm back to blogging and the world of race reviews: Here is my latest review, first published on Run Leeds November 14, 2016.

***

Just when you think there couldn’t be any more races in Leeds another one comes along.  Some of them have been around for ages, but as I’ve only been running for a few years I’m only just scratching the surface of the Leeds race scene, but today I lined up alongside 200 other runners for the first run organised by a brand new Race company. Great Owl Running’s Holly Hustle promised “A fast fun packed forest trail run with some challenging uphill and rewarding downhills!” and, following the last weeks snow and rain, it was certain that Leeds’ latest trail race was going to be a muddy one too.  All of this made the Holly Hustle sound right up my street.

With a very civil start time I was able to cheer my son around his first junior parkrun before getting changed and crossing Leeds from Beeston to Meanwood and the Myrtle Tavern, which was acting as race HQ for the day.  With two races (11k and 22k) being staged on the same day picking up the race numbers could have been messy, but the efficiency of the volunteers was very slick and before long I had the magic 108 pinned to my Run Leeds shirt and I was ready for the start of my 11k run.

Following the well observed 2 minute silence for Remembrance Sunday the 22k race got under way and the remaining 11kers set off shortly afterwards.  I’m far from being “race fit” so I started towards the back of the pack but we hit the trails as soon as we left the carpark of the Tavern so I was getting bogged down in human traffic.  I quickly rediscovered my trail feet and skipped past my fellow tail runners.  Entering Meanwood Park I found some space and my pace levelled out, but almost as soon as we had some room the Hollies beckoned and we were back to some hard work, this time in the shape of a couple of flights of stairs.

Between the two flights I found myself blindly following the runner in front of me, he took a wrong turn and I followed suit.  However, we both quickly realised and re-joined the route.  Our error was not noticing the tape hanging from the trees to our left, however in our defence, the flouro green tape was hard to spot in the leafy Hollies with the low Autumnal light glinting of everything from moss to mud.  Still I was on the right track and I could press on.  It wasn’t long before the first batch of faster runners came hurtling past us going in the other direction…I was a little confused but pressed on regardless.

I knew that there were two races on the same day and that there were a couple sections which were to be run in each direction but I swear that I wasn’t on one of those segments.  Also, didn’t they have the same coloured bib on as me?  There was no way that the leaders of the 11k were so fast (or that I was so slow) that they were entering the home straight while I was only part way through the 2nd k.  The second batch of fast runners came towards us but it transpired that it was them who had lost the trail and decided to double back on themselves to find the right path.

With everyone seemingly going in the right direction again we pressed on under the Ring Road towards one of my favourite Leeds landmarks, The Seven Sisters Bridge.  The trails got more technical. More mud, rocks, roots, climbs, and descents.  I was loving running.  It was perfect.  Still, bright, messy and not too cold.  No, I was not up the front challenging for the prizes but even at full fitness I never will be, this was my kind of run.  I got caught behind somebody walking around the turn point rock between 6 and 7km so too the opportunity for a breather, took on water at the drink station and started running south back towards the finish.

Shortly after this my race unravelled.  Having skipped over logs and vaulted boulders I caught my toe on a cobble on a farm track and went down like a sack of potatoes cutting both knees and my elbow in the process.  The cuts were fine but I had landed, with all of my weight, on a rock, right knee first.  It hurt.  It hurt like a one of those grazed knees you used to get in the playground at school.  Of course had I been out running on my own I would have hobbled back home with my tail between my legs, but I was out racing.  A phalanx of runners passed, each one of them asking if I was ok.  I was fine, a little bruised and bloody, but fine.  But going flying in company, and the accompanying bruise to my ego, hurt more than the fall.

I hobbled back to running, only a little off my previous pace, and zeroed in on the finish.  The final hill though was a hill too far for me in my battered condition, so rather than finding that final ounce of push to get me to the summit, I walked, and then ran the final couple of hundred meters to the finish line once the road had levelled off.  This was not my finest moment, but it had been a great run until its abrupt halt. I’ve been lucky that, in a season of off road running, I haven’t lost my footing once.  Going down on the final race of the year is better than getting injured on the first one.

In my opinion Great Owl have come up with a brilliant trail run right on my doorstep and, with a hand full of direction arrows, and one or two more marshalls, it will be close to perfect if you are after a no frills autumn trail race.  I’m sure that I’ll be back to race it again next year, however I think I’ll go for the 22k race next year, just so that I can run past the scene of my fall twice without going over.

Keep on Running Sancho

2015 came and went without much of a fanfare from me. My yearly round-up was never written, along with 3 races which, for one reason or another didn't get reviewed. I also failed to write down my goals for this year, which, as a target orientated runner is a bit of a slip up.  2016 is now well underway, I've already got 3 races under my belt without so much as raising a pen to review them. It's fair to say that I've let the blog slip. 

 

There are quite a few reasons behind my lack of blogging, but chief amongst them is a new addition to my family. Time is at a premium and frankly most of my blogging time is taken up with running. 

Looking back to 2015, I can happily say that I achieved everything that I set out to. I had originally billed it as "Epic" and it didn't disappoint.  Trailtrekk, the 100km walk through the Yorkshire Dales, was incredible and much tougher than I had anticipated. I completed my first marathon in under 4 hours*, and in November I managed to run a sub 45 minute 10k at the Abbey Dash. All 3 target boxes ticked.

But with that all behind me I decided to lay off the mad challenges and just concentrate on enjoying running. That's not to say that I'm taking it easy this year.  To start with I've made the decision to only run of road. This came out of my deep rooted disdain of Kirkstall Road. Having propelled my body along it's featureless tarmac 7** times in the last few years I decided that enough was enough and I'd have a break. It was easy from that point to just rule out road races all together. 

So for me 2016 is all about off road running. That's not to say that I'm now a cross country nut longing to splash through every puddle available. To be honest I don't really know the difference between a trail race and a fell race but I know that the scenery is 100 times more interesting. 

Fitness-wise, I'm determined to get to, and maintain, some level of half marathon fitness. I've peaked and troughed since I started running but over the last year I have got myself to the stage where I could comfortably complete a 10k without any additional training. I now want to increase my base level of fitness so that I can tackle longer, tougher runs, without having to start from scratch each time. 

2016 is going to go by in a flash and I know that there will be times that I'll wish I was racing with my friends rather than sticking to my pledge of avoiding roads. I know I won't miss the Leeds 10k, but I'm already itching to beat my pb at the Leeds half. I really enjoyed the Hull and York 10ks too but they will have to wait until next year.

The Harewood 1/2 was a tough run

For now, I've already run the Temple Newsam 10, Skye Run, and the Harewood 1/2 this year. I have the Bluebell 10, Over the Odda, and the Round Sheffield Run, to name but a few races to look forward to... and I think somebody mentioned running the Yorkshire 3 Peaks.  Here's to 2016

*just
**Leeds 10ks, Abbey Dashes, Leeds 1/2s

Yorkshire Marathon 2015

I was going to try and come up with some kind of tally for the number of times that I have visited York in the past 30 odd years, but to be honest I'm not sure where I would begin counting.  School visits to Yorvik and the National Railway Museum soon gave way to shambling pub crawls and visits to some very suspect nightclubs, only for the museums to come back into vogue now that I have a young family of my own.  Lets just say for arguments sake that I have visited York a fair few times in the past.

This year however I have added a new reason for visiting.  No longer is York Minster an acrophobia inducing tourist destination, Lendal Cellars isn't just another watering hole on a long and rangy list of pubs visited.  Instead they are now places that have featured as landmarks on race routes.  Back in July the Run For All York 10k was my last race of Summer.  I had beaten myself up over 18 seconds after the Leeds 10k and was determined to enjoy the day in York.  I kept a steady pace, took in the scenery and finished with a respectable time of 47:24.

Yesterday I was back in York for another race but this time it was different.  I'm used to running 10k races, but I had very little idea what lay ahead of me, in what was going to be my first full marathon.  To say I was going in blind isn't actually true.  I had been following a training plan for 21 weeks but that only took me to 20 miles twice so although I knew what it felt like to run that far, I had no idea how it would feel to run 26.2 miles.

I had tried to put all thoughts of the final 6.2 miles out of my head but in the weeks leading up to the race it was almost all I could think about.  My long training runs had been fine but I was convinced that I was in danger of going off far too fast and burning out before I had even got to 20 miles, never mind 21 or over.  To put my mind at ease I had one last run on Thursday with the sole aim of getting my pace right.  After 2 miles I was settled and happy that I could do the same on Sunday.  My training was complete and all I could do was wait.

Finally Sunday morning came around.  I got up at the crack of dawn so that I could eat breakfast without it sitting like a lead weight in my stomach whilst I was running.  I mustered the family, and waited for our lift to York.  Everything was falling into place.  I made it to the event village by 8am, got changed in the glamour of a portaloo, dropped off my bag and wandered over to my start pen.

So far everything was just the same as any other race I'd entered. I'd bumped into a couple* of buddies from South Leeds Lakers and chewed the fat with a runner that I'd been chatting with at the end of the Leeds 10k earlier in the year.  I ate my pre-race banana, used the facilities (again), ignored the group warm up, and got ready for the start.  Oddly, for my first marathon, I wasn't any more nervous than at the start of any of the other races of the year.  What we were about to undertake was brought home however when a minutes applause was held for David Colley, the runner who had died during this year's Great North Run.  He had been due to take part in the marathon alongside us and suddenly what I was doing felt that little bit harder.

Thoughts of not completing the run were pushed firmly to the back of my mind just in time for Harry Gration to get the race under-way.  The usual shuffle, run, stop, walk, run to the start line was observed and we were off.  I was trying my hardest not to run too fast but I was being swept along by the noise of the crowds and the tempo set by my fellow runners.  I got through the first mile a couple of minutes faster than I had planned to but then managed to settle into something closer to the 9:14minute/mile pace that I needed to get round the route in 4 hours.

Nice Minster

I saw my family in the crowds as I passed York Minster and, thinking that that was the last of my support for the day, got on with the job in hand.  I soon left York behind and started running through the surrounding villages.  Each new hamlet brought a new set of spectators cheering us on and giving out jelly babies.  I was expecting children looking for high-fives to be lining the route but the sight of the Minister from Stockton on the Forest happily leading his congregation in high-fiving as many runners as possible was quite a nice surprise and a chance that I couldn't miss out on.

I was through 10k in 50:04, faster than I had anticipated, faster than most of my 10k races in 2014 and only a second off my Abbey Dash PB, but done at what felt like a nice steady pace.  The next 10k came and went without incident.  I was a little slower (2:31 slower) than the first 10k but it wasn't my legs that were the problem.  I had a nagging feeling that I could do with a wee but as the feeling came and went I didn't do anything about it, unlike the masses who were diving into fields, jumping behind trees, or shielding themselves with bushes as they sought relief before rejoining the pack.

I made it to halfway in 1:49:17 (not a bad time for a half marathon if you ask me), but I was still dithering about needing to stop.  I had been careful not to drink too much before the race and I'd only had a couple of sips from the water stations that I'd passed so I couldn't understand why I felt the need to pee.  By mile 16 the urge got the better of me so I found a suitable field to pop into, hurried behind a hedge and nothing happened.  Then it dawned on me, I didn't need to pee at all, it was much worse than that.

I rejoined the race and tried to put all thoughts of needing to visit the loo behind me.  This proved more difficult than the previous 16 miles running had been.  My race was in danger of being ruined along with my self respect.  An attack of the "runners trots" was not what I needed.  I was convinced that every step was churning things up and every rumble was like a tsunami alarm in my head.  Was I going to be "that runner" who everyone talked about after the race?

It didn't help that all of this internal discomfort and worry took part on the long drag between 17 and 20 miles.  The road stretched on for ages with a constant stream of other runners passing in the other direction.  I passed some other running buddies** heading in the other direction, summoned up the strength to shout encouragement at them and pressed on.

I found salvation at Holtby where, just after mile 20, some kind soul had left a block of partaloos.  I would have been happy with the worst toilets in Yorkshire, or something resembling Renton's toilet from Trainspotting, but I guess that not many people use a portaloo 20 miles into a marathon so it was nice and clean.

For the first time ever I timed a visit to the lavatory.  It cost me 4 minutes but I was back on the road and feeling much more comfortable.  I was also now into the realms of the unknown as I'd only ever run 20 miles twice during training.  Every step was propelling me further than I had ever run before and I was feeling fine, well, not fine exactly but I was still moving.  I was slowing down however.  I knew my early pace was gone but even after the pit-stop I still had some time in the bag to finish in 4 hours.

Just after mile 23 I rounded the corner into Murton and to my surprise Phil and Jenny from Cross Flatts parkrun were stood at the side of the road.  Suddenly for the first time in hours I had some support.  I was spurred on to finish.  I picked up my feet and started off on the hardest 5k I have ever run.  I had over half an hour to finish before the magic 4 hours was up but no sooner had I left Murton behind my body decided that I had had enough.

I'm not sure if it was my legs or my head but something said stop.  I slowed to a walk only to discover that walking hurt more than running.  Why this isn't written in every training guide and online support forum is beyond me.  This knowledge might have kept me going for a little while longer, but I had slowed for a walk in a race for the first time this year, and I was shattered.  I tried to run as often and as far as was possible (especially when there were spectators).  I was willing the mile markers to come to me but they stayed in their allotted places and then, with a mile to go, the inevitable happened.  The 4 hour pace runner passed me.

He had been behind me in the start pens and I'd seen him again on the switch-back around mile 18 but I had hoped that I had enough time in the bag to finish ahead of him even after walking.  I checked my watch and came to the conclusion that Mr 4:00:00 was actually ahead of schedule, not by much, but I still had a chance at finishing my first marathon in 4 hours.

Back running I rounded the last corner to face the hill back up to University Road and the finish line.  From somewhere in the back of my mind came the knowledge that I could run up hills and run up it I did.  I passed a couple of less fortunate runners being helped along by spectators under their arms and cleared the summit.  It was literally all downhill from there.

Passing under the start gantry for the second time that morning it started to dawn on me what I had achieved.  But then a voice from the crowd yelled my name.  It was Anna from South Leeds Lakers.  The world kind of slowed down, I found where she was standing, ran across the road, got my final high-five of the day, and ran on to the finish line.  A friendly face with only 100m to go was all I needed to push for home.  The emotions of 42km washed over me and my eyes welled up.  Breathing became hard as I choked back tears but my legs kept turning and I crossed the line.

 

My watch said 3:59:38, 22 seconds under the target I had set myself.  I staggered through the goody bag zone, got my medal and walked, gingerly, back to the bag-drop area with my family who had been waiting for me just beyond the finish line.  My legs hurt, my head was swimming, but I had just done something that I still don't actually believe that I'm capable of.  I had finished a marathon.

No Excuses

*Betty, Liz, Ray, Karen, Steve, and Andy.
**Martin, Mark and Rachel.