Post Marathon Analysis, sooner rather than later, right?
Firstly before I pull apart my performance on race day I would like to take this opportunity to thank the literally hundreds of people that have been following my training over the last 18 weeks. Some have followed this blog others have been getting updates on facebook and a large number have been tracking me on Strava. Also thanks goes out to all the guys I have dragged out on runs with me from Orpington Road runners to friends. There is too many to list, but you all know who you are. The amount of encouraging comments, posts and messages from everyone has been fantastic. I really couldn't have gotten through all my training if it hadn't been for you guys. Thank you. Also a massive thank you to everyone that donated on my charity page, found here - www.justgiving.com/pha-uk-2014, the total to date is amazing and it continues to go up. If you haven't donated already and feel you can than I would very much appreciate it. As you will see from reading my Justgiving page you I have been raising much needed funds for a small charity called PHA-UK which helped my sister in the last few years of her life. Here is a short video which I put together for my sisters funeral back in 2008 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hGj8Cu4ydDc. The last thank you goes to my Wife, Lisa, who has been fantastic and really supportive throughout the whole training period, and I wouldn't have got across the start line let alone the finish line if it wasnt for her.
I have held off posting this as I wanted to really let the experience sink in and I may well have rushed into making a decision about where it went wrong. The last few weeks of training went well. I was nursing myself to the start line, not that any thing was wrong I just didn't want to blow all the training at the end. I rested more, went on shorter runs and tried to let my body repair from the demanding plan I had followed. As the race approached I felt rested and ready.
The alarm went off at 6. Decent night sleep, struggled to drop off but slept pretty solid. The thing with London is its pretty late in the morning, 10, and a lot of that time was traveling or sitting in Greenwich so I didn't feel I need to scoff any food instantly. Over the course of the hour I got ready, ate the usual of porridge and toast. Avoided drinking too much after downing my couple of glasses of water straight away, so I didn't need to wee on the train like a little boy! The 7:28 train was buzzing from orpington. The Orpington Road Runners had a small group and we all split up at London Bridge and went to either Blackheath or Maze Hill.
The red starters all headed to Maze Hill and we had a glorious walk up through the park, see picture below. Once in to the red start zone, we set about sorting our selfs out, last minute banana, water and other fuel. My sun tan lotion seemed very popular with our group and surrounding runners. Should have charged :-) we had time for a quick picture and then head off to dump our bags on the correct lorry.
It was at this point we all went our separate ways and headed to the pens along the main area in Greenwich park. It turned out that pen 2, my pen, was situated outside the main gates. As I was heading to the pen I walked straight past an interview between the oldest competitors and the BBC. I managed to get half a second of fame. See pictures below.
Standing in Pen 2 you realise there are some good runners here. It was at this point when I first felt nervous. I was standing on the shoulder of the 3:15 pacer, brilliant, I will stick with him I thought. I Looked around and saw Dave King, friend and fellow Orpington Road Runner, who was on the other side of the Pen, we shared a knowing nod. Last minute water sipping and stripping off of jumpers, jackets and bin liners. The elite runners were announced with a massive cheer for Mo! I remember thinking it was starting to get warm... And then we was off!
As we set off I checked the watch had started, all good, the aim then was 7:30 per mile to at least mile 20 and then reassess or carry on if all felt ok. The miles ticked by quite quickly. Dave soon flew past me before dashing off for a wee! He then passed me again for the fun of it and asked if I was happy with the pace. I seemed to be, which was good. The 3:15 pacer was firmly in my sights either slightly behind or in front. It was at this point when I noticed the miles were quicker than I would have liked, only by 10 seconds or so, but still this was in the back of my mind. Passed through 10 miles in 1:13 which was around 7:20 pace. Happy and cruising, getting carried along by runners around me. It was at this point where an amazing thing happened. I was giving high fives to a few kids that happened to be quite close, so no real effort on my part, when I was greeted with a slippery wet hand from the forth older person in a St John ambulance uniform...... Turns out he was handing out vaseline. My bad!
I was snapped at mile 7, looking happy even though you can just see my back.
This 7:20 pace carried on for 15 miles and I went through the half in 1:37, bang on track. Shortly before the half way point my Dad got a picture of me, looking pretty happy. I then got a glimpse of Mo running along the other side leaving the isle of dogs.
I had let the 3:15 pacer go as it started to become an effort to keep hold of him. I dialled back the pace to high 7 minute miling for 16 and 17 it then dawned on me I was struggling! I took a gel.. my first one. 17 miles in. Not good. Lots of things went through my mind, first thing being I am still 9 miles out! Secondly and new target was getting to mile 20 and seeing the wife and kids.
Time still went pretty quickly, but it was certainly an effort to keep the legs turning over. Made it mile 20. A quick loo break before getting to the family and take on of electrolytes. I made a massive mistake here by stopping for too long. I think it was almost 5 minutes. Killer. Gave them all a hug and kiss and set off with the 3:30 pacer and my new finishing target....
From Poplar high street to the finish was roughly 10k. This proved to be one of the toughest parts of a run every! It was literally a mile at a time, a water station at a time. I soon caught up with a Dartford roadrunner who was also struggling. I got a boost from this, if only for a few minutes. We had a walk and chat and then tried to run a bit further, I ended up leaving him behind just before mile 22 and just in time to see the parents. My Dad got another snap of me looking a little less happy.
Another lengthy stop of a minute of 2 and I was off again. I pretty much kept the legs moving for the final 4 miles with a few stretching and walking sections. The final half a mile was pretty much a blur. Pain, frustration and tiredness was all I could focus on. Mentally I was defeated. I did actually manage to cross the line with a 3:30 pacer, except he was burnt out too. A look up to my sister as a I crossed the line and I was done. Finished. 3:43:03. Gutted!
After getting a heavy medal and even heavier goody bag I went and found the Orpington Road Runner bag lorry and chatted with them briefly, I couldn't hide my frustration. I then preceded to sit down and eat the entire contents of the bag. I soon felt better. Next on the list was a wander up to Piccadilly and the Strava post Marathon party!
The Strava guys were a great distraction and the beer certainly helped too. I chatted with them about the race and where I think I went wrong, we has some laughs and traded running stories. I also met another group of Strava runners and had a good chat with them too. It was great to finally meet team Strava after such a long time of giving Kudos, commenting and tracking their runs.
I gave a short interview which can be found here - http://blog.strava.com/the-runners-of-london-7536/ and my Strava data can be found here - http://app.strava.com/activities/129950850.
With a last swig of my beer (sound like I was in the 16th century) I said goodbye to the guys and left the pub. As I walk/jogged to Charing Cross I reflected on the 18+ weeks of training and the fact I had no training ahead of me. I would be lying if I had said I wasn't sad!
