Yorkshire marathon race report

My first visit to York was as a kid, when my parents took me to the Minster. I started crying because it was so dark in there and it scared me so much they had to leave. My Dad still winds me up about this now, even in my forties!

I don't why I decided to enter Yorkshire marathon. I wanted an autumn marathon that wouldn't cost me too much (ruling out Chicago). I'd run a couple of the Tomlinson events before and thought they were decently organised. I go to York quite a lot for meetings and thought, that looks like a nice place to run. I've been to the races in York, and had quite a fun weekend. Maybe I wanted to give the Minster another chance. So I entered as soon as it was announced.

The race rapidly became my target for the year. Supposedly flat and PB friendly, this seemed like a real chance to make a dent in my marathon PB. I was bit worried about running a smaller marathon in rural areas, as I thought that there might be long stretches where I was running alone with very little spectator support.

We arrived at the University for the start. I headed straight to the toilet queue before going to drop off my bag. The queue for the bag drop was worrying long when we arrived, and not moving at all. It didn't seem likely I'd have time to drop my bag and get to the start pen, but then after a few minutes the bottleneck cleared and the queue started to move quite quickly. After dropping off the bag, we then had to make our way through the narrow bridge walkways of York's lakeside campus, which made for a lot of congestion. Initially I thought that we would never get off on time, but somehow, miraculously, we made it through to the pens with time to spare.

As far as my sub 4 plans were concerned, I'd decided to follow the 3:56 pacer. As I was queuing for the toilets pre-race, Beloved went on a fact finding mission to spot a good post-race meeting point. He returned to tell me that he'd seen the 3:56 pacer, and he looked rough. Beloved reckoned he'd been out the night before and wasn't to be relied upon. I think this was all part of a strategy to relax me, as when I was in the start pen, stood by the pacer, Beloved started miming necking pints, then pointing to the pacer, which had me in fits of giggles and really took the edge off my pre-race nerves.

Before

And then we were off. The race defied the weather forecast and turned on the sunshine. We all banged down the downhill from the university with the pacer but as we hit on the first bit of flat, I decided that I didn't want to stay with the pacer. I felt it was too fast for me, and I didn't feel comfortable at that pace. So I eased off about 10-15 secs and felt immediately at ease. I managed to stay really consistent with my pace, knocking out very even splits. The plan was working.

Running through central York was a bit of a mix. As we ran through the shopping area, most of the people watching were just a bit bemused about how to get across the road, and there wasn't much noise for the runners. Then we turned towards the Minster, and it all changed. There was a massive crowd, making a significant noise, and the bells were ringing out for the runners. I had my first little cry here, I found the bells quite emotional - it just felt like the city itself was cheering me on. Obviously the Minster wasn't holding my childhood hissy fit against me.

Running through York's surrounding villages, the locals really turned out in force to keep us going. I needn't have worried it would be really lonely out in the countryside - there was support at every village, and even at points in between.

Happy at mile 5

Every now and again, I felt the odd twinge in the left ITB but was able to manage it by changing my stride slightly, moving to more steps per minute. This immediately eased the pain, so I tried to stay with the quicker turnover, and it still felt comfortable.  At mile 14, I was well on target for a sub 4, with a bit of wriggle room. I felt properly good.

Then it all went wrong at the mile 15 water station. My pace always eases off at water stations, otherwise I get quite windy, so I tried to push on a bit a few 100 yards after I'd finished my drink, and my left leg just went. Everything above the left knee went into meltdown - my quad, my hamstring, my hip. It was like a mass muscle tantrum. It was a slight incline so I thought I'd just ease off a bit and pick up when we got back on the flat, but my leg had other ideas. There was no picking it back up.

I saw Beloved again at mile 18, and gave him the double thumbs down. But he shouted back that I was only 2 minutes off my time, so I tried to push on. It was just not happening, my leg would not work. I was dragging it like Igor in Young Frankenstein. At about mile 19, a woman slowed beside me to check I was ok. She was also struggling and we shared our leg pain woes. But we plugged on.

I did all the mental calculations - was it a problem that meant I should stop? Or was it just one that needed me to slow down? I wasn't in agony, my left leg was just seizing up, so I plugged on, trying to inject spurts of (relative) speed as often as possible. As long as I didn't stop, I could make it. The miles ticked away, slowly. By the time I reached mile 23, the last point where I knew I would have moral support, Beloved said it was obvious my leg had just given up, that I was dragging it along. But he kept these thoughts to himself and cheered me on. By now, my pace was so slow I might as well have been walking it!

It was such a strange marathon. The first 15 miles were pure fun, I felt on top of my running game. The rest of the race was not about me anymore, it became about the support. It took every ounce of mental strength I had to keep running, albeit slowly. When it became obvious I wouldn't make sub 4, I tried to make sure I would get a PB. And when it became obvious that a PB wasn't going to happen, I had to make sure I finished and got a medal for this ordeal. I don't think I could have managed it without the spectators and the marshals. In the last four miles, it seemed that everyone I passed shouted my name and gave me encouragement. I haven't experienced personal support like that since my first marathon in New York in 2009. Maybe it's just places that have York in the name that really get behind people in that way, but it made all the difference. In mile 25, a woman spoke to me with such warmth, I burst into tears. Not sad tears, but grateful tears.

Unhappy at mile 23

Then I saw that last hill, and I felt like crying again. What evil organiser puts a hill in the final mile? A Yorkshireman of course. At the top of the hill, a woman told me it's the only hill in York. I wonder if she thought this would make me feel better? She was wrong!

After cresting the top of the hill, my legs cruelly decided that they would respond positively to a final push and I sprinted down to the finish, trying to get done as fast as possible. A photographer snapped me just as I was grimacing, and we had a bit of a laugh about how much I would hate that photo. As I came to the end, and the announcer read out my name, all the disappointment about my time was replaced with a sense of satisfaction at finishing my hardest marathon yet.

I can't lie - I was gutted not to finish sub 4. But I had kept myself going by telling myself I had run a marathon, which is more than most people had done that day. I just felt relieved to have done it at all. Stubbornness always beats disappointment in my world!

In a last ditch attempt to cheer me up, the organisers had given us some Seabrooks salt and vinegar crisps in the goody bag. I couldn't have been happier if I'd found 10 £50 notes in there. It was the final Yorkshire touch.

Where did I put those crisps?

I'd definitely recommend the marathon for future years. It wasn't pancake flat, and putting the worst hill in at mile 26 is pretty cruel, but it was worth doing it for the support along the route. I'd been worrying for nothing. Old York can give New York a run for its money.

Disappointed with my time, but delighted to finish

I will do that sub 4 one day - I feel confident from my first 15 miles. If I stay fit, I can make it. Particularly if there are crisps at the end!

Don't panic

It was all going so well. My 20 milers were under my belt, and my last run before the Yorkshire marathon taper was the Ealing half marathon. I had a great race, with a significant PB, but it wasn't all plain sailing.

At about mile 11 in Ealing, I got a pain down the outside of my left knee. Recognising it as a 'not stopping' pain, I carried onto the finish and headed home as soon as possible to start recovery. I had run a lot of miles in my last high mileage week and ran a fast (for me) half marathon, so I knew I needed to look after myself. The knee continued to hurt going down stairs for a couple of days, so I tried to stay off my feet as much as possible.

A couple of days after the half, after the pain had completely gone, I went out for an easy 4 miles. Except only 2 of them were easy, the other two home were painful. This knee thing was not going away. I decided to rest. I wasn't panicking yet.

After no pain for a few days, I went out again for a couple of easy runs on the Friday and Saturday. No issues, but both were short-ish distances. On the Sunday, I attempted my last significant long run - 12 miles. All went swimmingly for 10.4 miles, I felt good and I was enjoying my running. Then, bang, ouch went the knee again. Luckily I was near enough to home to divert and get back as soon as possible. 

I was panicking a bit. I thought I recognised the pain as an ITB related issue, from my experience in VLM 2012 on the other leg. And a session with the amazing Simon Lamb sadly confirmed it. 

My knee essentially is the mouthpiece for the rest of my lower body, saying 'please can we stop now, it's been a very busy year?'. Unfortunately, while I sympathise hugely with my body, it's timing is lousy. Could it not keep its tantrums in check until after the York marathon? 

I've now not run for over a week. Just rest, stretching and some very painful poking to release my trigger points. I miss running, but more importantly, I miss the feeling of being prepared for my marathon. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. But I'd be lying if I said I was totally panicking either.

I have spent the last few weeks of my training desperately trying to talk myself into a 'can-do' approach.  I've had a few bad moments out there in training this summer, a few meltdowns, a couple of quitting incidents and many, many doubts. Yet my running and my pacing has stayed sound, so I've tried very hard to focus on the mental side of things, with little inner pep talks to remind me that my negative thoughts are the only thing stopping me from running a sub 4 round York next week. 

So now, when a physical problem presents itself, I almost feel liberated. At first my negative side went, 'ooh, goody, an excuse not to have to attempt sub 4 hours'. But then my positive side said, 'sod that, misery guts - I desperately want a sub 4 hour and I've never been so close to achieving it'.

I'm not panicking yet. My mind is stronger than a bit of tendon. Other, more expert people, are helping me treat the physical side of things, but I'm the only one that can treat the mental side of this. So I am staying positive. I've been using all the extra time I used for running to stretch, poke, think about stretching and poking, and work out how the hell I am going to get to the start on race day.

Trying to stay positive, I tell myself I'll be well rested on marathon day. My legs and joints will be slightly undertrained, but not fatigued. That this lay-off might actually increase my chances of a sub 4hr marathon. 

On Saturday morning TV, I heard the former heptathlete Denise Lewis say that she hadn't trained for 9 weeks before she won her gold medal due to a ruptured achilles. Yet she still won gold, because she'd worked so hard and so long before her injury.

So I need to remind myself I've run over 970 miles this year. I've run my long runs at the required pace. I've run my training races at the target times. I was on this over a week ago. And I'm not going to let a little extended taper keep me from giving my sub 4hr marathon my best shot.

The moment of truth will be tomorrow, when I go back for a sports massage and we see just how much happier my ITB is that it was over a week ago. But for the moment, I'm still running York and I'm still gunning for sub 4 hours. Wish me, and my left leg, luck.

Ealing half marathon race review

Today was the second running of the Ealing Half marathon. The first event in 2012 was a massive success, with slick organisation and a testing route. Described as undulating, many runners argued that it was actually 'quite hilly'. With a slightly altered course from last year, due to works in one of the local parks, many of those who were running it a second time were hoping for a few less undulations to tackle.

This is the second year in a row I've run the Great North Run and Ealing within a fortnight of each other. Great North Run is always my half marathon priority and I am usually desperate to get a good time there. But last year I PBed both races, knocking about 15 secs off my GNR time at Ealing two weeks later. So I decided I would try and achieve the double PB again this year, as part of my York marathon prep.

Unfortunately, Ealing half marathon coincided with my planned last 20 mile training run before York marathon so I'd rejigged my schedule to run 20 miles on Tuesday and use the 13.1 miles of today's race as a final quality workout before I started my taper. I was a bit worried about the extra miles, but I'd done it last year without side effects, so just made sure I worked hard on the recovery on Tuesday and Wednesday to keep me race ready.

I'd reviewed the route map beforehand and thought this year's new course might actually have one more incline than the inaugural route, but I knew it was a drag caused by a railway bridge rather than a hill. Plus it was a road I'd run several times over the year in training so I wasn't too bothered. Also, I noticed that the hills were nicely spread out, with some flat, recovery, straits to get everybody's wind back before the challenge. And of course, a nice flat, finish for the last 3 miles. I felt confident about the course. I just needed everything else to come together.

The pre-race atmosphere was relaxed - it's the Ealing Feeling. It's not often I get to start a race just 10 minutes walk from my house, so instead of having to spend ages in a toilet queue I was able to meet up with a couple of friends who were also running. Everyone was relaxed and looking forward to getting started. I'd decided that my main goal was to enjoy it, to relax and not worry too much about time. But despite this, I found myself heading into position in between the 2:00 and 1:50 pacers, not-so-secretly aiming to hit sub 1:55 again. So much for relaxing!

Then we were off - running along a road I run regularly as part of my training, but this time not worrying about the traffic. The local support was out in earnest, with signs and banners right from the start. We Ealing residents love a bit of free outdoor entertainment of a weekend and it showed today. Families had set up water stations outside their houses, kids were ready with the low fives and people were hanging out of their bedroom windows to cheer us on. Due to the early start of 9.15, Ealing also has the highest number of pyjama-clad spectators of any race I've ever run.

The organisers had gone out of their way to make this a welcoming race. The route was peppered with signage welcoming runners from other countries, each country getting their own sign. There were also lots of signs wishing various runners happy birthday - I really hope the birthday boys and girls saw their names in the right place. This was a lovely addition to the course, and really brought home the community ethos of the race.

Thankfully, the weather today was a million times better than a fortnight ago. I didn't have to worry about rain-slicked road surfaces today, although I did have to dodge an awful lot of spit! There seemed to be loads of people who were doing projectile spitting along the route, particularly in Pitshanger Park just before halfway. In fact there were so many spitters in the park, I started to wonder whether it had been designated a special spitting zone. Spitting is never ideal, but there was so much of it going on, it was starting to get a bit unpleasant.

 

I bumped into a couple of other runners I know mid-race, which is always a treat, and the Beloved cycled round most of the course and provided support at about 6 different points en route, giving me a major boost. I'd managed to get into a good rhythm quite early on. For a couple of miles I was worried I was going too fast but my Garmin said otherwise so I relaxed into my pace and pressed on. I tried to make sure I didn't lose too much speed going up the various hills but focused on maintaining the effort. And I was enjoying it. There was a great vibe all the way round, people running with their mates, spotting their friends and neighbours and getting cheers - it was a lovely race to run. All the churches on the route had laid on extra cheer squads and refreshments, and around mile 10 there was a massive cheer squad with music. I chuckled when I heard Billy Ocean's 'When the going gets tough' blaring out of the speakers, and I was starting to feel quite buzzy.

I didn't pay too much attention to the later mile markers, because I was happy with my pace and I knew exactly where I was, so the mile markers seemed irrelevant. It was only as we turned into the side streets at the end of the race, streets that I run a couple of times a week, that I realised how close we were to the end. I looked at my watch and saw I was well under 1:55 timing. Then the 12 mile marker loomed up and I decided to make this PB the best it could be.

The benefit of running a race on roads you know well is that you know how far you've got to go (I guess this could be a negative too). As the race finishes in the park that underpins my training, including intervals, I was on very familiar ground. I knew when to push and when not to push. And I knew, despite my Garmin having a little nap about the distance, that the time on my watch showed I was comfortably into PB territory. I saw Beloved just after the 13 mile marker, and he shouted 'sub 1:53'. So I went all out for a sprint finish, to make sure I hit a time beginning with 1:52 for a change.

For once, I remembered to race over the line before I stopped my watch - a really bad habit I have picked up over the last year - which probably saved me a couple of seconds. I was done, and I was delighted. I was even more delighted when I got my medal - a really fabulous design, so unusual. We also got a commemorative picture to mark the day. I don't know what to do with that but it's a nice touch from a local artist.

Ealing does the best medals

On the whole, my splits were very consistent

This brings me safely under a 1:55 time and gives me a lot more confidence about my sub 4 hour marathon target in 3 weeks. I know I've still got to deliver the combination of pace and stamina on the day, and keep the negative thoughts out of my head when the going gets tough. But I'm starting to believe I can do it. And that's more than half the battle won.