I had been thinking of my three consecutive October road marathons as a very good chance to improve my PB by a significant degree, possibly even getting close to 3:45, with a chance of going under four hours at all of them. I had tailored my training to include a nod towards periodisation, running more miles in August than in any previous month and then building in several speed sessions on the track during September combined with some decent 5k tempo runs at various parkruns. It hasn't quite worked out as I'd hoped...
Lisbon
was always likely to be the most challenging due to the potential for
the temperature to get above comfortable levels. Mindful of my failure
to fuel sensibly in Hamburg earlier this year I was determined to ensure
I didn't go hungry on the Saturday as we travelled over. As soon as we
were booked into our hotel I visited a nearby supermarket, stocked up
on fresh melon, bananas and bread rolls proceeding to stuff myself with
this unorthodox combination throughout the day.
The
course is a point-to-point in an easterly direction along the Atlantic
coast from the picturesque town of Cascais, through Caxais to Lisbon, finishing
in sight of the impressive 17 kilometre span of the Vasco da Gama
Bridge in the east of the city. I had plans for my run. Plans,
strategies and tactics for all eventualities; uphills, downhills, heat,
cold, headwinds and tailwinds. I ended up lacking focus and not really
sure what I was trying to achieve. What was soon obvious was that my
intestines weren't very happy with the idea of running when full of
fruit and bread. Planned walk breaks became necessary to calm the
gurgling as much as to save legs.
Most
aid stations had a single portaloo nearby and I eventually spotted one
without a queue, however, a fellow runner arrived there just before I
was able to get there and I noted that it was already engaged. After a
minute or so he knocked on the door to ensure it was in use, which it
was. A further minute or so later I decided not to wait. This was a
mistake. At the next aid station I spotted a vacant one and rushed over
with relief: no-one was beating me to this one! I won't go into details
but I opened and immediately closed the door. There was no way I was
going in there! I was now getting a bit desperate.
The
route at this point took us a mile or so inland into a very attractive
part of Lisbon before looping round and back to the coast. It was
during this phase that I reached my personal race nadir. I was forced
into a complete halt on several occasions and had to stand with all
muscles below the waist tensed in order to avoid severe embarrassment.
The next ten minutes were tortuous progress but I was eventually able to
reach a free portaloo and achieve the urgently required relief, albeit
at the cost of a half-hour mile!
The
half marathon race had started on the Vasco da Gama Bridge two hours
after the full race, proceeded in the opposite direction along the
marathon route before turning round and completing the run in the same
direction as the full marathon. Shortly after going past this joining
of the routes I spotted Mandy running towards me. About a minute later I
realised that my time was now immaterial and so I may as well wait for
Mandy and finish with her. It turned out that she was on course for a
PB which she duly achieved and so it was brilliant to be there to see
her hard work bear fruit.
Although
this run was largely ruined, again, by my idiotic fueling, on
reflection I realised that I am getting too complex in my approach to
marathon running. All I need to do is get out there and just run.
Start sensibly and then at some point after halfway step up the effort
level and go for the line without fear. The Yorkshire Marathon provided
an early opportunity to apply the no frills approach.
It
was a cold, foggy morning in York which felt far more conducive to
running that the previous week. Who could possibly have predicted that
October in Yorkshire would be such a contrast to Portugal? I managed to
keep my warm gear on until ten minutes before start time leaving it all
with the ever-supportive Mandy and slipping into the start pen, meeting
up with a couple of familiar faces, as always happens these days.
Immediately
I felt loose and was running very freely. The mile markers were
passing by pleasingly quickly and without looking at my watch I knew I was
faster that PB pace without even having to push myself. Official 10K
split was 53:42 and felt very easily sustainable. The only problem had
been at around four miles when a sudden sharp pain in my left groin caused me to slow momentarily but receded almost straight away. I
had all but forgotten it when during the twelfth mile it returned but
did not recede. Immediately I knew that was it for the day, slowed to a
walk and then tried to jog but there was discomfort whatever I did.
The choice was stark: finish today and throw my plans for the next few
months into doubt, or ditch today in an effort to salvage everything
else. It didn't need too much thinking through.
The
pleasing thing is that a year ago my self-doubt would have forced me to
complete the race, these days I'm very comfortable with where I am as a runner and didn't feel I had to prove anything to myself. Similarly I don't feel the need to rush back for Abingdon. I think I could probably complete the race tomorrow but there is maybe a 25% chance that the injury will re-occur, I'm happy to start back a few days later than I could rather than one day too soon.
5th October 2014 Lisbon 5:13:18 #48
12th October 2014 Yorkshire dnf
19th October 2014 Abingdon dns
You're right, the most important part of running is being comfortable with our efforts. Speed sessions do improve time, but for me, they also open the nasty cans of self-doubt...
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