The important thing that we all should remember, is how lucky each and every one of us were to be in the health to make it to the start line. I had promised myself a long time ago, no matter what the outcome of any race, I would not be disappointed as long as I kept that philosophy alive.
There is only one Dublin. No matter what other marathons are completed, Dublin will always be special. My training up to the race had been very start stop. I had some very good periods of progression, and the usual plateaus, where I felt I was going backwards. I went on holidays, I got sick, I had a very busy time at work, and I had a family, the same as every other year, and most other participants who run as a hobby.
Having run the Longford marathon two months ago, I had feared that I may have screwed up my chances of a good marathon at Dublin as it took me a longer time to recover than expected.
However, a reasonably good run at the Dublin half marathon, and a pretty solid 3/4 three weeks ago, and I was hopeful that I had some descent stamina built.
As I am sure many thousands of others were doing in the week before the event, I tapered, tried to carb load (I find Halloween brack is brilliant), and watched the weather with dread. Thankfully, on the day, the weather turned out to be pretty much perfect. Not too hot, not too cold, a light breeze, and while it was forecast to be slightly overcast, it turned out to be beautifully sunny.
As I like to be able to keep to my own schedule, I slightly anti-socially drove in on the morning with Brian, instead of getting the bus. I did miss the atmosphere of the bus though, the price to pay for the convenience of getting home slightly earlier at the end for the well earned hot bath.
Parking the car only a short walk from the start, we joined the enthusiastic crowds making their way to the baggage area, and the sense of excitement tinged with nervousness was palpable. There is no 'one size fits all' runner, we come in all shapes and sizes, and the old addage of never judge a book by its cover is certainly one which applies. When running a marathon, you will try anything which might ease your journey and help you that bit quicker towards the finish line, but it truly amazes me how many gels some people think they will need, most likely discarded somewhere as they fall out.
After losing Brian along the way to the start line, I dropped in my bag and made my way to the start for a little warmup, Nothing to much, just a few short strides to get the blood flowing and the heart rate slightly elevated, along with the last quick pee break. I tend not to drink very much on the morning of a race, other than a cup of tea and a few small sips of water. The hydration should be done over the three or four days previous.
I jumped in and positioned myself a few rows behind the 3 hour balloons. I saw a few friendly faces from the Balbriggan club, but couldn't spot any of my own club. The nervous and excited chatter between friends and acquaintances continued, and the one question I heard asked many times was, 'are you going for it?'. Never, was the 'it' articulated, as we all knew what 'it' was, and it was a question I heard repeated many times as far as 20 miles.
At the off, the usual congestion. I had read a tip to stay on the left side at the start, as the first turn is to the right, and that worked very well. Even at my relatively forward starting position, I was still amazed at the runners who were clearly running for a slower time, had started so far forward, and only served to slow the first mile down as we tried to pass. So even though the first mile was very stop start, the watched beeped at 6:53, perfect, 1 second slow.
Mile 2 was about trying to settle in and get the legs warming up properly, but the usual problem of getting dragged along by the exuberance of those around me meant a faster mile 2 at 6:40.
The 3 hour balloons were slipping away nicely, my plan did not see me running in a large group, fighting for water at the aid stations, My training is usually pretty solitary, and I am just fine with that.
Mile 3 6:56, better, taking back some of the faster mile, very important not to go out too hard!
Mile 4 6:43, doh! A flatter section and I was getting carried away again.
Mile 5 6:50, some water and a gel taken on board. Very important to drink at every station to avoid the cramps and dehydration I had experienced in the past.
Going through the phoenix park, it was really great to see some cheering cub members, it really gave me a lift, and can be better than any sports gel!
Mile 6 6:48, steady enough, going through the 10k mark at 42:43, position 913. Mile 7, 6:59, that's ok, don't worry about a few slow miles this early on, its a long way! Keep drinking, keep steady, stay focused. Mile 8, 6:40, a downhill section, just let the legs turn over slightly faster, don't push the pace. Alot of runners passed me here, and I thought, so what?, I am running my own race. I could still see the sub 3 balloons ahead of me, though quite a bit now.
Mile 9, 6:44. I was getting a bit worried here, the pace was very comfortable, and I knew this would be the danger zone, I needed to keep things under control. Mile 10, 6:47, mile 11, 6:59. That was again a slow mile, but there was probably the steepest section of the race at this point, and I just let myself flow up the hill, not pushing the pace, keeping the head held up and the breathing steady. Plenty of water, and another gel, starting to take on the sports drink now too, although they tried to give me cups, I just grabbed the bottle anyway and carried it for a while as I drank, the only way I knew I would get enough into me.
Mile 12, 6:43, a bit fast, but back on a flatter section of road with some great crowd support which really helps you along.
Mile 13, 6:48, and going through the half way mark in 1:30:05, position 893. That is a pretty good indication of how the marathon goes, I only passed 20 people in 10k, and all around me, still the talk of whether we were on for 'it'. The halfway point is always the first stock take for me. Comfortable or no? Today, reasonably comfortable, no great signs of trouble.. yet! The aim was for a slightly negative split, and I couldn't get much more accurate than that.
Mile 14, 6:59. That did throw me a bit. Was that a harder mile, was I starting to fade? The first doubts creep in, take a gel, keep drinking, keep running, shake it off, head up, concentrate on the breathing.
Mile 15, 6:47, better, but did I push that too hard?, am I going to regret that! Keep running, keep breathing, head up!
Mile 16, 6:43, okay, that was fast, but felt comfortable, the doubts start to ease, the rhythm is good, only 10 miles left. The talk of 'it' is less.
Mile 17, 6:42. Danger zone, running too fast, if I don't get back under control I will blow up!
Brian is in front of me. Wait! What!
Mile 18, 6:42, still fast, but comfortable. Comfortable be damned, I will be walking at 21 miles at this pace. Going through 30k 2:07:34, position 680, passed 213 runners. I start to come across the walkers now, where I have been many times, the first casualties of the war with the pace and distance, the distance winning.
Mile 19, 6:43, oh well, I guess I will just go with it! It is not as easy as it sounds just to slow down. The body has a rhythm, the stride is what it is, to slow would be to try and disrupt that, and at this point, anything that disrupts anything will be detrimental to my health!
Mile 20, 6:40. Now I am in the real danger zone. This is where I have blown up on many a marathon, hit the wall, fallen apart, crashed and burned, whatever the term, I have walked quite a few marathons from this point, but today I was still running, and at 6:40. But for how long? It could all come to a sudden grinding halt very quickly. Stock take at 20. Comfortable or no. Well, no. Can you be comfortable at 20 miles? The best I could say was that I was still running, and running well.
A 43 minute 10k would get me home, focus on that.
Mile 21, 6:44, water, gel, breath, run.
Mile 22, 6:57. Okay, steady, that hill appeared they call heartbreak. It's not so much heartbreak, I call it the 'quite annoying' hill, as I would much rather it was not there. But it is, and to be fair, there is quite a nice downhill stretch immediately after.
Mile 23, 6:43. The downhill, and the support, again, a great lift from some clubmates, I even managed a smile and a bit more than a wave. It was like taking two gels at that point, and I knew I was on the finishing straight. 3 miles. Break it down, I can run three miles any day, thats all I need, three miles, keep running.
Mile 24, 6:39. The fastest mile of the race, the adrenaline pumping through my body was pushing me along, the finish within reach, and surely I could allow myself to push harder now, and I became even more nervous. What if I collapsed at the last mile? How slow could I run and still make 'it'? Two 7:30's would do it? No! Push, run, breath, repeat!
Mile 25, 6:40. Almost there! The crowds are cheering the atmosphere electric. Keep the head up, keep running. I want to stop! I feel as if I have made it, finished now, where's that fecking line, jesus these miles must be measured wrong, they are definitely longer than the other ones. No more water, no more gels, just me and the last mile. I catch the three hour pacers, and pass them, my heart racing, surely now! Surely I won't fall apart now, but I might! Shit, steady, steady, don't screw this up now.
I don't think I have much say in it now, my body has had enough, it wants to get off this sadistic joyride, but the brain just won't let it yet!
Mile 26, 6:44, there it is, in sight, that big beautiful gantry, and even though I have no glasses on, I can still see it says 2:xx:xx. Run! Last .2, can't trust the garmin. I have absolutely nothing left. No sprint, just keeping the same steady pace that I have done for the last 26 miles, over the line for a finish time of 2:58:54, position 462, arms raised up, running under that finish line with the clock showing a time I honestly never believed it would as I ran under it.
Like so many others on the day, each with their own personal victories, I felt a sense of pride to have finished in a 'good' time, and relief that I had achieved what it has taken me 11 attempts to do!
I had done 'it', the sub 3.
Then I was shattered! The emotions came, and I felt a little teary as I often do, and a great sense of gratitude to life for allowing me be here on such a beautiful autumnal day, collecting my medal, and meeting my friend afterwards. Off I went to change, and a nice cup of tea in some great company as we exchanged stories of our adventures on the streets of Dublin.
I felt a little awkward with the congratulations of my sub 3, although I was very grateful and humbled, but in the same vein as I will never be too disappointed with a 'bad' race time, I can't be overly proud of a good one either. It's all relative, and both within our club, and for thousands of others, there were some great victories. A massive congratulations to Danny on his sub 3 also, and to Karen for her national medal, and to Ciaran and others on completing their first marathon.
The legs were not too stiff today, as long as I kept moving. I mowed the grass, and as tempted as I was, while I went for a walk, there was no running! I will definitely loose at least one, and probably two toenails, but 'its' worth it!
Now what?
