Challenge 18; The Thames Meander Marathon Completed
The final ‘big one’ of the year.
Thus far, with the exception of the Prudential ride 100, I have been strong enough through all my challenges to see them through in a pretty positive manner, despite various injuries and setbacks throughout the year. After a good performance at the Beachy Head, I felt confident in my abilities going into this one. I had done it earlier in the year, in a time of 3:37, and have become a faster runner since then. My aim now? Not just to finish, but to finish well. 3:20 or less was the target.
As mentioned in my previous blog though, and as has been all too common going into my events, I wasn’t feeling my best the week going into it. I had 4 out of 6 nights with very poor quality sleep, leaving me feeling very tired, and quite a sore throat too. Maybe the intensity was starting to catch up with me a bit. Who knows. I also only went on 1 training run in the last 2 weeks as a result of feeling a little off, and to allow my Achilles tendons ample recovery time after Beachy Head. That one run resulted in me stopping after 17 miles due to utter leg fatigue, but I didn’t think that would be the case on the day. And so the day came.
Unfortunately, the weather was very much against us runners. Strong winds with a mix up of driving head on rain. Along a muddy Thames path, this can be quite energy sapping and tolerance beating. The only real plus was that it wasn’t cold, which would have been the icing on the cake with the other two factors. Regardless of these things, I found myself on the start line, waiting for the countdown to start.
My appearance amused many a runner around me, due to the can of beer I had in my right hand. It’s not my usual running addition, but knowing that my family were going to see me run past, and given it had been my father’s birthday 3 days previous, I had to give him his ‘card’. I wrote happy birthday dad on the side, so it was an acceptable card, and one he’ll definitely get more use out of anyway.
The run was on, and immediately pretty much found my pace. An unusual thing for me, I often start slow. Good sign. My KM’s were hovering around 4:45-4:50, and with the target being around 4:43, this wasn’t bad. Like I said, I am a slow starter, and what with the weather, this was OK with me so far.
KM 8 came, the run went through Richmond, the parents were spotted, the beer was handed over. No time to stop, I had my time to think of. The route narrowed, and I found myself running closely in front of and behind a couple of people, keeping me at a pace I was slightly wanting to better. Eventually I found a gap, but I could feel myself working harder than I would have thought or liked given the pace. My KM’s were still just off by a few seconds each time, and I thought I had been chasing back the time. Was it the wind? The rain? Off of form? Not sure yet.
The half way turnaround came, and as I did indeed turn around, my legs had a moment. A silent internal scream. Not a good sign. Too early for that. Halfway? I was behind my target time slightly. Halfway and I had run 1:41. 1 minute behind. This could still be chased down I thought. From experience, my middle miles are often my best, so let’s turn on the adrenaline.
...‘actually no, let’s not’ said my legs, as they again moaned at me. This time, the moaning stayed. They felt tired and sore. Especially the right. Big time tired. I could feel the outside of the knee was sore too; my IT band strain slowly creeping its way back in to haunt me after hundreds more miles run since it last bothered me. 670 to be precise. I stopped for a minute to stretch them and bend them around fully. Damn they hurt. I really wasn’t expecting this. I decided to stop looking at the watch and counting my KM’s. Just run, as comfortably and efficiently as possible, to stay on track. Hopefully I’ll have a second wind in a bit.
No second wind. Actually the opposite. A second ‘oi, Thomas, have you forgotten about us?! We’re still not happy, and don’t want to run today. Screw your times’ scenario. This was bad. I had to stop and sit on a bench for a minute. I didn’t feel tired at all. Mentally, I was fine. I wasn’t out of breath. What was happening? It really was all the legs. They just died. Suddenly. It was 2:05 into the run, I had covered a little over 25km, and my legs were over.
It was a painful and bitter realisation that this event was no longer going to go my way by any stretch of the imagination. The next 17 KM were the slowest I have ever covered running. Running being a very generous word. There was a big mix of running, walking, and some more sitting and stretching. The driving head wind on the way to the halfway point had magically stuck two fingers up at me and proclaimed ‘fuck you Thomas’, as I realised I had a head wind and driving rain in my face again on the way back too. Swell.
At least, when you stop trying to concentrate on your own run and your own targets, you can take a look at what others are achieving around you. The route, doing a complete U turn at the halfway mark, lets you see the whole field running, as you all inevitably pass each other. At Barnes Bridge, I saw a man running as an escort for another. He had a bright yellow bib on and a small rubber ring in his hand. Holding on to that rubber ring also, the other person was of special needs, and doing his best to run in sync with his escort (apologies, I know this doesn’t sound too politically correct to call him this, but I only saw them for a brief second, and could see the second man to be obviously handicapped to some degree, but how I do not know). The handicapped man looked to also be visually impaired too, but had a huge smile on his face, and seeing him for that split second, I know his achievements this year will completely overshadow any produced by me. That moment will stay with me for a very long time.
Back at Putney, and I slowly jogged over to the family. They were all there now, and expecting me to pass them with speed towards the finish line. This did not happen. I stopped for yet another rest and a chat. The one time they had all come to see me, and my biggest ‘fail’ at my goal. Bummer. Still, the show had to go on, and so so did I.
Anyone who speaks to me about my running will know I have a slight issue with chafing. I’m pretty sure when I pull those running shorts up and on, and testicles transform themselves into pinecones, because boy do they rub me. This Marathon, in this rain, set a new record for uncomfortable chaffing. Both the inside of my legs are now red/ yellow raw. My right thigh is still weeping, and I am using anti- burns cream to treat it. What the hell. As you may have guessed, this also played it’s part in slowing me down...
3 days on, I can now see both nipples are scabbed over, from the top rubbing in the rain. First time for that one.
I haven’t been so happy to see a finish line before. I managed to run/ jog/ walk my way to a time of 3:55 in the end, 35 min over my target. First half time; 1:41. Second half time; 2:14. That’s some inconsistency. Still, it’s not the end of the world. The challenge is done. Medal earned. And man oh man is it one ugly medal. Could it possibly be any bigger and more bling? Good one organisers for letting Flava Flav design it.
So, 3:55. 128th out of 338. That doesn’t sound too bad I guess. Had I got my target time though, I’d have been sitting pretty at 20th. That’s a big difference, and leaving a bit of a sour taste in the mouth. Maybe I should have just entered the half marathon. I’d have got 47th out of 362. I guess I wasn’t the only one who suffered that day though. Before the race started the organisers announced a 960+ strong field for the day for both distances combined. Really? That’s over 260+ people who didn’t finish, for whatever reason.
I bet they all pulled out with ball chafe.
Thanks for the pain Thames Meander. Hopefully over the next 2 weeks I can nurse myself better and strengthen up for challenge 19 & 20, the final 2, on the same weekend. 11 days and counting.