Hope is not a strategy – Marathon J

4 weeks ago I lined up hoping to run a marathon, during the middle of last week (some 3 weeks elapsed since the marathon) I signed up for the Jersey Spartan half marathon. I had not, however, done any running in the interim, I just hoped I could get through. To help my motivation I wore my bright orange Amsterdam marathon top. Rather annoyingly the organisers felt it necessary to ban headphones, so I’d be singing to myself for a couple of hours.

I met my friends Jan and Bob at the start line, plus a few other chums, Steve (who ran the Dam ) and Julian running his first half. Everything started off rather well, the first mile came and went in 8 minutes, which had me somewhere in the first quarter of the pack, this was an error on my part because it was way too fast, just after the first mile the hills started, see the output from my running computer, green is elevation......

I don’t do hills!

This became rather obvious as my pace slowed, it felt like I was going backwards with people passing me on all sides. Oh Well the view improved from time to time...smiles.

At about 7 miles a chap from Alderney joined me and started selling the Alderney half marathon on 5th September, just 292 days to go. "Where's my ipod?" I thought. I’m sure he started at the back to tell everybody he passed about it. Fortunately I could not keep up with him and he ran on to pester other runners.

Next a nice chap, Graham from Southampton chatted to me, he had also run the Amsterdam marathon, he had just run the New York marathon, we chatted about various things and then he left me.

With about 4 miles to go the “Alesha Dixon Rear of the Race” award was granted, by this point the majority of the runners had passed me so I felt qualified to grant it at that point. I’ve no idea who she is, but she had a black ABN (Jersey Marathon 2008) top on and black three quarter length trousers. If you are reading this Miss RotR email me and collect your trophy.... and complementary night out with Marathon B.

With about a mile and a half to go I caught Julian and Graham up, Julian was blowing hard, Graham said if we press on we could finish in under 2 hours. So he picked up the pace and asked me to name cities of the alphabet. We picked up the pace somewhat and only struggled with I,K,X and Y.

So Graham this is what me missed:

I Indian River (Michigan)
K Kaili
X Xenia
Y Yaan

With the rest of the alphabet exhausted we had less than half a mile to go, Graham I thank you for your inspiration, we crossed the line with a minute in hand at 1hr 59. But it was very hard work.

Summary, hope is not a good running strategy, training is much much better. My hips hurt, knees and feet hurt, but the red wine tonic is soothing.

This is my last race of 08.....Marathon J

26.2 Miles - Marathon J

My right knee was not great, when I ran at my normal pace it hurts, it has pulling sensation the doctor attributes to inflamed tendons due to over training. Over training seemed to be a common diagnosis from the good doctor Hurst, he said my knee, stomach ankle and plantar faciticus (sore feet) are all a result of trying too hard. His advice rest and relax and see if a can run a couple of miles on the flat without pain then re evaluate. Doctors what to they know……..

So I rested and the night before I was due to fly to Amsterdam I went for a two mile run, well more of a brisk walk, but it was pain free provided I kept the speed down so I decided to go.

I met almost marathon B who despite trying to have an early night was totally wrecked on Saturday morning and still drunk from the night before, I sneaked him into the BA lounge where he devoured coffee and hangover cures.

Arriving in Amsterdam I headed to the Olympic Stadium to pick up my number, my two running partners came along for the ride and a free tee-shirt but had long since decided not to run. There was a real buzz about the stadium so much of a buzz that Marathon V’s eyes darted about the place and his brain whizzed with excitement. A youngster and fit from playing football he was considering running after all. Some gentle persuasion followed and then some downright arm-twisting resulting in Marathon V deciding to run after all despite a total lack of kit or preparation. Fortunately there was a running exhibition at the stadium enabling him to purchased top of the line shoes socks and shorts at the exhibition before head home for a Kangaroo burger and an early night.

The next day at the Olympic stadium on the track along side, well just behind the elite runners, our vital statistics looked like this:
Marathon V training zero weeks, running shoes complete with price label underneath.
Marathon J training seven full weeks, with the last five off thorough injury.
Neither of us knew what lay ahead, neither of us had any idea if we would finish.
One of us has Vaseline, liberally applied to prevent another Japanese flag incident

Marathon V's complete training program is the stretch below

My painful knee kept the pace slow and steady, to run normally hurt so it was easy to moderate the pace. At about 8 miles there was a long depressing run down the side of a canal depressing because I could see runners running up the other side and the half way marker, I really don’t like running back on myself! By the 13 mile mark I was if anything frustrated at the gentle pace and still running with plenty of energy, although a cross wind had given me my first ever taste of runners nipple and I can confirm it’s not nice, I’ll add them to my Vaseline ritual in future.

At 18 miles the pace started to feel fast and another 8 miles seemed possible but I knew it was going to be hard.

At 20 miles I noticed I was breathing hard but could not really understand why, I was not going fast enough to warrant such breathing and for some reason my hips decided to hurt, the boundless energy I have just a few miles back had deserted me.

With only 4 miles to go and I knew I’d finish but I was breathing even harder and slowing down. Marathon V was still skipping ahead, gazelle like and full of the joys of spring.

At 24 miles I was blowing hard and then we met our first hill, it was an underpass to be honest with a bridge over another canal but at the time seemed like Everest. I passed a good number of people who choose to walk up the hill only to be passed by half of them again once I was back on the flat, but at least I hand not stopped running.

The last mile was awesome, the support from the crowd and the bands all round the course was good but the last mile amazing. I had my name on my shirt and it seemed everybody was cheering me on, much to the chagrin of Marathon V who did not have his name on his shirt. The last kilometre took us back into the Olympic stadium. I tried to sprint the last 100 yards but nobody would have noticed there was no obvious change in pace. I checked my running computer 26 miles 450 yards! I’d run 250 yards further than I needed!

That night my knees were light somebody had stabbed them with needles each time I got up to walk. Going down stairs was not an option, far too pain full and walking was just an uncomfortable experience. However, looking at the pain Marathon V was in my me feel a little smug it could have been worse, 26 miles and zero training was taking it’s toll on my once gazelle like running partner.