Manchester dream becomes reality
Sunday 10th April 2016, I won't be forgetting this one in a hurry. The final couple of weeks leading up to the race were terrifying, and as for the last couple of days, I couldn't sleep or even eat (not ideal just before a marathon).
As many of you know my training is not always well structured but I really did try to get myself right for this race (with the occasional slight wobble) and even followed a marathon training plan two days before the race. The morning of the race was horrible, I could barely function and kept convincing myself that I was injured and questioned my ability to get round let alone achieve my target time. In the car I was reading an interesting article in Runners World which mentioned how hitting the wall is a mental problem rather than physical and gave advice on how to deal with it.
Off to the start (via McDonald's) and I grew even more concerned when police were lifting up drain covers and checking in bins, I assumed on the look-out for bombs? My hands were freezing at the start line and I really wished that I had brought my gloves. All I could do was look up into the sky, absolutely terrified of what was to commence, spotting a plane and just wanting to be on it to get out of the situation.
The race started and I was right next to the 3 hour pacer. I knew that regardless of what pace I ran at there would be a point later in the race where I would be unable to continue at 3 hour pace so made a quick decision to stay in front of the pacer, and try to maintain that position for just 26 miles!
To try and reduce my weight by not carrying a gel belt (silly I know!) I only took 3 gels with me and after a few miles knew this was an error. After four miles this became two and I was very thankful for the additional ones provided by friends and family after seven miles. I recall having a go at Mark Fawcett a couple of weeks ago about carrying too many gels but I worked out that I had between 12 and 15 during the race many of which psychologically allowed me to keep going.
The first ten miles felt very comfortable and I joined Dave Lord and John Hartley, increasing my pace to give myself enough time to deal with a predicted end of race meltdown. Fifteen miles came round and I lost the plot. I had gone too fast and could feel my legs weakening with every stride. I knew with the early pace that if I could get to 20 miles I could then allow myself to slow down to 7.30 pace so this became the plan. I managed to maintain sub 3 hour pace until mile 21 then I was hit by a bus, a big massive double decker one. I was ruined and was very close to giving up.
I recalled the magazine article I'd been reading earlier and convinced myself that there was nothing wrong with me and that my mind was playing tricks on me. I kept visualising myself finishing and could see 2.59.xx – I had to do it, giving up was not an option. Not sure why but I found myself singing "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming" (like Dory in Finding Nemo) anyway it kept me going. I did think I was doing it in my head until a bloke who flew past me asked me "what the **** I was doing"!
At 24 miles I revised my pace again just thinking I can drop to 8 pace and still do it, you know you are in trouble when you start revising times on a regular frequency. I had completely lost it and was treading water. People were flying past and I could barely move. Seeing my family and friends at the 25 mile marker was vital. I was spent and literally had nothing left. The roar from them was absolutely amazing, my goal was back on the cards, I had to do it, I was not going to let them or myself down.
The finish was horrendous. I looked at my watch and had 5 minutes to go and could see the finish line in the distance, this was not going to be pretty. Just keep swimming! I managed to catch a Scottish man who had overtook me a couple of miles back and he was baffled that I had not retired stating "you were a right mess" he was right though. I couldn't manage anything remotely resembling a sprint finish but he told me to push ahead of him as we approached the line purely as a reward for sticking with it.
I looked up and saw the clock 2.58 something – I had done it! I had been aiming for this target for so long and it had become a reality. The sensation in my legs once stationary was awful, I'm so glad I didn't take a breather earlier as there is no way I would have got going again.
I did an 'Adam' at the end and my body went into shut down. After shouting at the nice man who provided free beer at the finish (I shouted because it was also alcohol free) I could barely breathe and was not in a good place. I managed a quick chat with Kevin Smith who ran a blinder and then just worsened. Legs were shaking and I was talking rubbish. John Lloyd spotted me and kindly provided me with spare clothes, having to dress me at the same time, it was like being three again!
He kindly waited with me until my family arrived and kept asking me why I was asking him for a pineapple? My friends and family arrived and I just about held it together, it finally began to sink in, it was a fantastic feeling and far outweighed the difficulties during the race.
There were two significant factors that allowed me to achieve my goal: sheer determination and the support from friends and family in making my dream become a reality.
For me this is my last marathon, I have always said that when I achieve my goal I will call it a day. I do not have any aspirations to further reduce my time and will now be focusing on shorter races which I do enjoy far more. Having said that I have also started to enjoy off road running recently so who knows what will happen. A massive well done to all other Trawden runners at Manchester, certainly a great turnout for the club!