Marmite: the Finchley 20

When I was little, I was always desperate to try Angel Delight and my mum would never buy me it, insisting I wouldn't like it. I whined for years. She caved. I hated it. She won.
I also campaigned long and hard for Marmite, but she also said I wouldn't like that. I bought my first jar when I moved away to uni. I've had a jar in the cupboard ever since. (cue jokes about it must be a bit crusty by now etc)

Because of Marmite, even when there is a strong suspicion I won't like something (book clubs, Chia Pods, reformer pilates) I still have to go ahead and try it anyway. It's like a leftover from that being told you won't like something. And while there will always be Angel Delights (book club, it's not me, it's you), you've got to gamble on the Marmites (who would have thought reformer pilates is actually quite fun).

More recently, it was a race that got me interested. In all my previous marathon preps, I've never done a 20 mile race. I've never even run a long run with company! Last year, at a marathon training night organised by the Ealing Eagles, one of the speakers said that a good performance in a 20 mile race could potentially have a negative impact on your marathon time. That was enough for me to steer clear.

But this year, I was feeling, well, desperate. My long runs have been harder to stick with, running them alone has become increasingly more difficult. Running long distances in the wind, rain, mud and cold made it even harder. So after an 18 mile run which was 10 miles of running, 8 miles of arguing with myself about whether or not to quit, I thought I should sign up for a 20 mile organised run. I figured I would run it at 60-90 secs slower than my intended marathon pace, and also figured there would be other people running at that pace, that would distract me from my utter boredom. After much deliberation, I signed up for the Finchley 20 in Ruislip.

I mentioned to Beloved that I had signed up for a 20 mile race.
'Sounds like a good idea', he said.
Me: 'It's 4 x 5 mile laps'
Him: 'You're not going to like that'

He had a point. I have a long tradition of getting vaguely hysterical at running laps. Track or hill intervals are fine. They are supposed to be laps & repetitions. But races that consist of two or more laps usually end with me huffily swearing off the race for life. I think that people who run marathons that include laps are amazing human beings that deserve all the medals in the world.

On race day, I didn't need to worry about the cold and the wind. It was a lovely day, and probably would have been fine to manage a 20 miler alone. Instead I found myself running with two other club members. Two firsts in one!

I spent most of the first lap either desperately checking my pace to make sure I wasn't going too fast, or worrying about the fact I was going to have to run 3 more of them. On the second lap, I decided I'd just run 15 miles and then finish. My left hamstring was hurting and I didn't want to make it worse.
But because I was running with someone else, who also was hurting, something revelatory happened. She suggested we stop and stretch out our hammies. We did. It stopped hurting. I carried on.

By lap 3, I had abandoned my exit strategy. I persuaded myself that I might as well run the 20 miles today, as otherwise I'd have to do it again next week. The sunshine, and a group from the running club at mile 3, relentlessly cheered us on. Another club member was marshalling at the 5 mile point/finish and had a high 5 waiting each time. It was ok. It was happening today.

By lap 4, I felt incredibly strong. I only had 5 miles left to run. I felt ok. I thought, 'ooh, only one lap left'! I even did the last three miles at race pace. It was a lap revelation.

I won't lie. I'm not going to go out and enter a marathon with laps, unless I could bring a whole support team and station them at multiple points around the course. But I certainly would recommend a 20 mile race or organised run as part of your training. Find someone lovely/interesting to run with who wants to do the same pace as you. Stretch if you need to. And remember, you'll never know until you try it.