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There's me being a bastard
I was in tunnel vision last 8 miles with people strewn all over the place, no doubt cast aside by the sub 3 p acers. It was every man for himself at that stage.
That's a really good clip for you to keep Muddy (although not much of a sprint finish!
DT - he could have hit the infamous wall. A clubmate of mine was cruising at Berlin a couple years ago but with 400m to go she said it was like being hit with a sledgehammer. Her finish video shows her being helped across the line by 2 stewards.
Skinny, yes, when i saw this i looked up his PO10 and wasn't surprised to see he had a much quicker pb. I think many would have done the same in those circumstances ( i definitely would ) but not many would do it if they were truly sacrificing a time especially as there are stewards to help ( i definitely wouldn't )
EDIT : my 74 year old club mate ran 3:10 yesterday and won his age category by 16 mins !!
Looks an exceptionally good runner, you only had to look at how fresh he was at still 2.52 pace, and easily have the strength to just pick some guy up and force him to the finish. I doubt some of us could do that at the START of the race
Good work to you DT by the way (Muddy obviously as well, but said that already elsewhere
I have my hour or so a year wondering "what if" on marathon day. It very quickly fades. I only need to remember my last half to remember what it can be like when it goes massively wrong and you have to trundle 6-7miles more out.
Mace - in a public shitting myself situation I would find some toilets, wash out the shorts and put the wet shorts back on. I'm a mother, it's what we do. (Fucked pelvic floors, doncha know). I would avoid any cameras however. I do have some dignity.
Watching the marathon made me feel a little bit wistful, even though I had no intention of running this year, but on balance I think i enjoyed the spectating more than I enjoyed the running last year. I have to use my GFA place next year if I want to renew it. So there's a goal for me...if I can even get running again. And an intention to be less hung-up on numbers and try to enjoy the thing a bit more.
You'd probably nip in wouldn't you? Unless you'd become so delirious you didn't notice it dribbling out
Mace - I probably wouldn't have responded to Lou if I'd heard. I ran a few miles close to to someone with Dan on his shirt, which was quite annoying.
26.6 miles on the garmin. Apparently mile 20 in canary wharf was 6:33 - I doubt that very much.
I'll save the rest for a full report.
Yes I posted a 6.24 in Canary Wharf. I very much doubt that happened.
There is no excuse in London as there are toilets everywhere! Yep, lots of people from my club had disappointing runs for them.
VMLM 2017
So this was my third go in London and by now I was an old hand.
Unlike last year, this year I was coming into the weekend fairly low on confidence and mentally, not fully engaged.
I have put this down to last year seemingly cruising through my schedule and smashing some pretty fast long runs which gave me clear views on my ability.
This year I had struggled to do that and had stuttered through my schedule. My long runs were generally done at an easier pace and I failed miserably in a few MP sessions. I also suffered during late January/early February post operation and this really broke my momentum.
I did however decide to add in an 8-10 mile medium long run to my schedule and I think this contributed to my failure on some runs as I had more fatigue from that extra run.
Looking back on my training from November through to yesterday and comparting it to last year I have run 77 miles more, but lost 2-3 weeks around my operation, so when I was actually running, the mileage was higher.
On the build up to race day I made a conscious effort to sleep plenty and managed over 8 hours average in the 5 days before. I also carb loaded quite robustly, to the extent that it was becoming counter- productive as I was feeling a little unwell.
So, we set off for London (wife and son also) first thing Saturday. After arriving at the hotel, we went for lunch and they went sightseeing whilst I went to the expo. Despite making every effort to not do any unnecessary walking on the Saturday, I still covered over 8 miles. At the expo, I grabbed my number then met up with Muddy for a cup of tea, then we departed reasonably swiftly, though the expo was closing very soon in any event.
Saturday night, I achieved something I had not done on my two previous attempts in that I got a decent nights sleep.
On waking Sunday morning I went for some breakfast. I felt disproportionately anxious, given it was my third time and could barely eat. I considered why this was and arrived at the following-
My mental attitude was all wrong and my confidence in my ability was low.
Since the ashby 20 I have been managing metatarsalgia (self diagnosed) on my second toe on left foot and was worried how it would react.
After my last mp run last Wednesday, the inside edge of my right shoe had torn slightly on ball of big toe. My wife had stitched them back together, but I was worried they wouldn’t hold.
Despite eating huge amounts of carbs the previous 3 days, and having the race day nerves, I had barely been able to poo and felt bunged up and had concerns as to what lots of running would suddenly do to wake my bowels up.
Anyway, all that aside I made my way to the green start and joined the toilet queue. Within minutes there was an announcement that the lorries would be leaving at 9.25 with the bags. I had to leave the queue and quickly get ready. I applied various lotions to my body for chaffing and blisters and also some f30 suncream, having got burnt in 2014 and seeing that despite the fact it wasn’t forecast, the sun was out in its full glory.
I then rejoined the toilet queue at 9.25. This became a nightmare and I finally got in at 9.53. Quick bit of business and I tried to join the pen. I could see Lou tucked nicely in there but I couldn’t get in it as everyone was queueing into the park.
I am surrounded by people with all sorts of pen numbers on, one even had a 9! I was pissed off. Before I can even make the pen the hooter goes. I force myself through, some distance behind even the 3.15 pacer.
I eventually get over the line, but the streets from the green start are narrow and it is rammed. I am not in a good mood at all and this is not helping my general anxiety.
I somehow manage to find pockets of space and start cutting through the crowds. My target pace is 6.55. Mile 1 comes in at 7.02. Not terrible in the circumstances, however I was finding it hard going, what with the sun out as well. I recalled back to the first 2 miles at Ashby which were also what it took me to get warmed up and moving well so held steady.
Miles 2 and 3 came by in 6.54 and 6.51 but I was mentally really struggling and was already really hot. It didn’t help as we merged with the red start and I suddenly found myself behind another 3.15 pacer and the bands of followers. I had to work hard to get back ahead of that crowd.
At around mile 4/5 I saw Madbee and she run by the side for a short period. People were asking me if she was planning to keep going the whole way. As I was watching her I thought ‘crikey, Madbee is running fast’, then I realised I must be as well. Miles 4 and 5 were 6.56 and 6.59. Just as Madbee came along, a clubmate came by. He was on the red start and going for sub 3. He began chatting away to me and suggested I go with him as well.
At this point I was feeling really crap and very nearly decided to pack it in. I had images of me crawling the second half. The sound of the crowd was just a horrible noise and I was getting really irritated. Also my left foot began burning on the balls of the toes and my right quad was niggling at me. There was no way these were going to do anything but get worse!
Just before the Cutty Sark I heard someone in the crowd calling my name, and it was my mate half way up a lamp-post. My clubmate stayed in and around me until about 10 miles when he wandered off.
Nothing of any note happened over the next few miles. I simply kept making deals with myself to get to a certain point and reassess. In fact, at that point, if a VMLM official had popped up and offered me a gfa time if I walked away then and there, I would have taken it. The miles continued to tick over fairly consistently (6.55, 7.00, 6.57, 7.01, 7.02).
At around 10 miles I suddenly began to feel better and mentally worked out that if I hold pace until halfway, I can run a rubbish second half and still gfa. I knew that Tower Bridge was coming soon and I recalled from previous years that, that was a hugely iconic stage. Mile 11 came in at 6.53 and then we entered Tower Bridge. At this stage I felt completely uplifted and thought carefully about how lucky I was (in running terms) to be able to be there. I had a good chat with myself and agreed to keep this going until 20 miles and assess then.
Halfway across Tower Bridge I saw another clubmate who is a better runner than me. He looked really shit and was clearly struggling. I feel quite bad for saying this, but it gave me a boost again as I knew I felt nowhere near that bad.
I started to get into a rhythm and began moving through the crowds. I felt like I was going faster, but in reality everyone else was just going slower. But this just kept feeding my belief. Mile 12 came in at 6.54 and mile 13 at 7.02. I then passed halfway in 1.31.42 (about a minute faster than last year) and was also encouraged because my garmin wasn’t far off bang on so I wasn’t working with false readings.
I then had probably the best period I can recall in a marathon. I was almost suspicious as to what was happening as the turnaround was silly. Mile 14 was at 6.51 and mile 15 at 6.58. By mile 15, we were starting to get the first of the roadside damage. This put a cautionary thought in my mind that it could all go wrong very quickly. However all the earlier aches and pains had disappeared and I was buzzing.
Mile 16 came in at 6.54 and mile 17 at 6.53. As mile 18 ended the numbers of people pulling up were increasing, many of whom had probably gone out chasing sub 3. Mile 18 came in at 6.59. We then entered Canary Wharf and my gps just lost it, posting miles of 6.24 and 6.45. I just concentrated on picking people off and keeping the pace going.
Coming out of Canary Wharf, I could see my clubmate from earlier. The sun was out and he was struggling. I caught him going up a hill and had a brief exchange and then I just got my head down and ploughed on.
As I moved to then next mile marker I could see that Canary Wharf had left me quite a bit out, so I approached the 21 mile marker with my watch going off nearly 350m early. This isn’t what you need at every mile marker, however I decided not to hit the split button as knowing how far out my garmin was, was important information as I knew that last year I measured 26.52 for 7.07 pace, so in theory anything under that was free time.
Mile 21 passed by in 7.02. It was time for my 7th jelly baby and by this point they had turned into slug like lumps of slime and were very difficult to eat. As I took on board a small piece, I began choking on it in my throat, which was largely unwelcome. It then disappeared and about 30 seconds later my nostril started tickling so I gave it a blow and the jelly baby piece came flying out at some speed.
With that dealt with I pressed on, continuing to cut through runners. As I say above, whilst not running any faster myself, the perception was that I was flying due to the natural slowing of everyone else. Miles 22 and 23 came in at 7.02 and 7.04.
At around mile 23 Lou appeared. I must have passed him and not noticed. Just before Lou had popped up I saw a guy on the roadside that had just gone down looking unwell. A runner had stopped with him and the paramedics were coming to him. This was a reminder not to get greedy as it could all be destroyed any moment. I recall Lou bouncing up behind me in a fairly sprightly manner and asking how I felt. At that point I was feeling nauseous so told him that. I assumed he was going to come with me, but he didn’t.
As I proceeded down the Embankment I saw various other runners pulled up. I was desperately trying to take my mind off it all by number crunching. At mile 23 I was on for a negative split or around equal, which I was really pleased about off still such low mileage.
My mate laid down an incentive pre-race, that for every minute faster than 3.13 I run, he would buy me a pint. I began imagining him in utter despair as I continued to sit at the same pace.
As I entered mile 24 I look at my watch and my hr was in the 200s. I couldn’t be sure if this was an error or if I really was. This scared me off a bit and I allowed the pace to slide. The work was done and a pb was banked as long as I was sensible. Yes I wanted to go sub 3.05 but ultimately it meant nothing.
Mile 24 came in at 7.26. I was longing to see Big Ben but it took an age to arrive. Mile 25 came in at 7.18 and there I was at the end of the Embankment. Some rough sums and possibly even an 8mm would get me sub 3.05.
As I enter the Mall it is like I am placed on a treadmill with the horizon not getting any closer. The 1k sign is here, great, that’s 4 minutes 30. Then another sign comes, I assume it is 800m and feel mildly irritated….no, it says 600m. I imagine I am doing track reps, 600m is nothing. I then come around Buckingham Palace. Unknown to me my wife and son are there and he is furiously calling me. I am still not clear on what is left to do. I hear the commentator tell the crowd that we are all good level club runners coming through and that makes me feel good. As I round the bend there is a 200m sign, and a man looking very pale sat on the side. I slightly raise my fist as an acceptance that the job is done and this rouses some crowd support. I then look at my watch and see it still on low 3.04’s. I hold back and judge how far I can handle, then with about 80m to go I let rip with a ‘sprint finish’. This causes a degree of excitement in the grandstand as I pass.
I can see the line approaching and my watch comfortably below 3.05, so I ease off slightly. I get to the line and stop and suddenly feel really light head so drop myself to one knee and take a moment and see my watch is on 3.04.38 (official time 3.04.45). I then have the obligatory overwhelming sense of emotions and start welling up and process through the system. My entire body now is hurting and I am simply glad it didn’t hurt like that 10 minutes earlier.
On reflection, I perhaps could have gone faster had I not felt so terrible in the first half. Equally I am delighted to have been able to stick it out and end up achieving what I set out for. My splits were 1.31.42 and 1.33.03 which I am particularly pleased with. That is even more so when I look at the results page for everyone else I know who ran it with all of them having a much slower second half. Looking at the results page stats my 5k splits were 21.36, 21.46. 21.55, 21.42, 21.40, 21.38, 21.52, 22.28 and 10.13 for final bits which is quite good reading from my perspective. In the last 7.2k I managed to pass 250 runners and was passed by 77.
All in all a job well done.
I am in a much better place than McFlooze obviously (except I'm a lot older) but I went to the physio today hoping he would give me the all clear to start running again. He actually said another 3 weeks should do it unless one of my test 3 milers reset the clock back to zero in which case I have another 5 weeks of no running (but it's all a little bit airy fairy). Then he said when I do start running again it would be a good idea to do something like a couch to 5k plan as a way of easing my foot back in.
It sounds a bit like not even running the marathon may have cost me this season.
Something else to ponder on when I consider next year.
Anyhow the physio didn't charge me even though the appointment lasted 25 minutes - I'd rather he'd charged me double and given me some good news!
Just to pick up your above point.
So very rough Max HR calcs are supposed to be 220 - age?
What is your properly calculated Max HR you do all your running based on?
I'm guessing that in the 200s is above your max HR so reading must have been wrong (or you were dead)?
How did you feel at this point?
Did you slow down purely because of your HR reading?
Sorry for all the questions but the idea of slowing down with 3 miles to go because my watch told me I was dead if I actually felt okay seems a bit frustrating.
I had the choice of upping the effort and holding pace and running 3.03.45 ish, upping the effort to maintain pace but completely losing it and not getting a pb, or taking the edge off and 'coasting' home safely in 3.04.45. In gambling terms I cashed out. There was more to lose than gain (not just in a running times sense) in pushing on.
Nice one DT, a proper sized report too. Just needed some sort of base camp to be set up, but the toilet mentions will do. Queuing for 30mins seems insane and worrying. Anywhere else "au natural" that could have been used? Think I've only ever done one race that didn't have some sort of "other" option.
The race though sounds an utter miserable experience, mentally and physically! So it absolutely perplexes me as a non marathon runner that the aim within your marathon was to run a GFA age to...get to repeat this experience next year!
But well done though.
There was no opportunity to unduly mess about in toilets. The green start is tucked away in a far corner of the park and is immediately bordered all the way around by residential streets. It was wholly unsatisfactory and I don't want to start there again.
Just to clarify my point above re hr...210 was a level that was sufficiently realistic if things were on the verge of being nasty. Had it been 225 for instance I could have immediately written that off as error.
I'm no expert on heart rates and all that, but seeing it build to 200 certainly wouldn't feel great to me. But then I wouldn't even look at that during, only the timing!
I read the part about "park" and instantly think there must have been some sort of secluded tree or wall or bush. The only park I've ever known that didn't have either was the one around the Cabbage Patch 10mile race. Flanked by housing each side, flat, and nothing at all to use!
What is your calculated max HR? About 180?
Has anyone who wears a HR monitor researched what readings it would show if your heart was in trouble - would it go up or go down? And if it was in trouble would there be other signs if (like me) you didn't have a monitor on?
i imagine if there's going to be a problem you'd start to feel very ill or would drop dead on the spot and not know
anything about it. Both are risks we take in this sport.
skinny, my max hr is about 194. I've had an average hr in parkrun of about 183, just last year.
I wonder if the chap being assisted was the one who poo'd himself
McF - i've never used a loo on the course but can't imagine they have particularly good wash facilities or much room in them to clean that much mess off ? and i wouldn't think he'd be very popular going into a Starbucks or McDonalds to use their facilities. He probably didn't have much idea of where he was at that point as he looked really bad. I'm pretty sure i'd jump in the Thames.
Skinny, who's Little Miss Bouncy? Also, 26.36 miles on my garmin.
So: we had a lovely time. As Skinny deduced, we decided shortly before halfway that 3:30 was not going to be realistic. In fact, we had very little to go on beforehand re. Fifi's likely marathon potential, but had decided that (despite a rubbish race at Alloa, like mine) it probably wouldn't screw her up starting at 8 min/miles, and that she was more likely to get tired and slow down a bit than she was to hit the wall, so it wasn't stupid to start off at that pace. She is 45 so only needed 3:50 for GFA, and when we decided to slow to 8:30-40ish pace she was able to stick to that for the rest of the race, despite a pee stop at mile 14 and hamstring cramping from mile 16 onwards, and with an impressively fast final 400m.
Much to Fifi's delight, I had invited various other people to join her entourage, so we also had Fifi2 (had an injury, didn't manage to do enough training) until 13.5 miles, and our clubmate ManFifi (been injured for a while, actually not run for weeks!) for the whole thing. There may have been some mutterings about being surrounded by bouncing tiggers. Obviously she loved it really though, just as much as she loved the series of hilarious motivational mantras I had memorised to 'encourage' her. Remember everyone: if it doesn't CHALLENGE you, it doesn't CHANGE you. Once the hamstring cramps kicked in, 'when you can't run with your legs any more, run with your heart' became particularly appropriate. However, she is still speaking to me. As well as support, encouragement, and pacemaking, my other role was as a pack mule, and I spent most of the race carrying sodding bottles of Lucozade as Fifi1 gets quite badly dehydrated. This worked because she felt so guilty making us all get her drinks and carry them that she felt she had to actually drink them.
Overall, though, I had an amazing time, really enjoyed the race, and got a wee bit emotional being able to really take in the last couple of miles along the Embankment and the Mall. One of the approx 50% of supporters to have heard of Fife got a bit overexcited just at the end and shouted 'GO ON THE KINGDOM' which made us laugh, and we picked up the pace to cross the line together, all three of us, hand in hand (like twats) in 3:39:12 except that ManFifi got 3:39:11 so he must have pulled slightly ahead, the bastard.
T'Dan - tough outing
Lou - Sorry to hear it didn't pan out, same for me really. Just dealing with the aftermath of it before I get into the reporting, but LHS shin muscle was re-torn, and glute med now has a small tear. Something going on with my right foot and calf too, but that is still too sore to work out.
DT - I was just reading something about having a very realistic assessment of marathon pace is the key to a good marathon and looks like you got it spot on. I enjoyed the report - my effort also felt too high early on and it sounds churlish to mention it, but the crowd noise and congestion were contributing factors to me not being able to concentrate on the effort as per usual. It was a far more difficult race for me than Hull both during the race, and in terms of recovery. And after Hull I thought it couldn't possibly be worse, but in retrospect, I was soaking in a hot bath within an hour or so of finishing, which must have helped.