Manchester Marathon

Much as, for a lifelong Liverpool fan, it was a wrench to do so, I summoned up the blood to line up for the return of the Manchester Marathon.

After a good stretch and a breakfast of banana and Weetabix, I donned the customary old sweater and bin bag to trek the half-mile from the race village to the start line. The weather was already horrendous, with driving rain and close to zero-degrees in the wind, but we were treated to Dr Ron Hill listing his personal bests in similar conditions as we waited for the gun.

I hung on to the pace guy for 3.30, but checking the Garmin noted that he was quite ahead of the pace. Remembering the wise words of the honorable Mr Darren Horner, I dropped back to conserve energy. It soon became apparent that the race title “Manchester Marathon” was something of a misnomer – the race quickly progressed past Old Trafford (I shut my eyes and sang “You’ll Never Walk Alone” to myself) and then through Stretford and over the M60 towards Altrincham.

From there on, the support of different Trafford boroughs was immense; from the local band playing the “Rocky Theme” in Stretford, to the drums and cheers through the narrow shopping streets of Altrincham, the Mancunions had not been put off by the weather as they chanted, cheered and threw jelly babies at the runners. I even managed to spot a few faces in the crowd as Emma, Joe and Niamh jumped from tram to tram to track me around. My decision to drop off the pace also paid off, as I approached and then passed the 3.30 group.

Approaching 13 miles, the race went a bit off-piste. Through the grounds of Dunham Massey, the surface was more like what the average TAC runner might experience on Boulsworth, with mud and puddles pushing the runners into the hedge in a futile attempt to keep the feet dry. Still feeling good, I pushed on until the race emerged into Timperley at about 18 miles. Here the head-wind kicked in and we were glad for the re-appearance of supporters to take us into Carrington.

Legs still feeling good, I pushed on and picked up the pace a little – pushing past 22 miles in just over 3 hours and finally ditching the sweater. However, a bit of cramp and a need to dip into the jelly babies slowed me to pick up the pace team again, and I rolled in with them in just over 3.30.

The support on the course was amazing – despite the weather, the public lined the streets to cheer the runners on. The finish area, in a park, became a bit of a mire and runners found it hard to reclaim bags – but I’m sure they’ll get this sorted for next time. For a “city” marathon, quite a rural course and highly recommended.

A massive thanks goes to everyone at TAC for the advice on distance running. It is also worth mentioning that I raised over £2100 for Motor Neurone Disease so a big thanks for all the support.