Catching Up
First, there is a lot of catching up to do because I've been a lazy blogger. Months of training passed rather uneventfully. Three weeks before the marathon I went to see a physio because the pain in my left foot, right between the ankle and the heel on the instep, had left me running with a limp. Those who recognise the symptoms may know what it was.
The physio identified the cause of the injury as overtraining. My total recorded distance is 900km; 500 of those kilometres were marathon training. Perhaps I was lucky to only get posterior tibial tendonitis and that only in one foot.
It was recommended I don't even try to run the marathon. Really? Me? As if! There was no way I was not going to try, although I learned to accept that I may not be able to finish. I spent over ten hours on the elliptical over the last three weeks and was thoroughly sick of the thing by the end.
The foot got better but it was not at 100% pre race. I did what I shouldn't have done, but what many will always do, and took some strong painkillers.
Five Days Before the Day after Tomorrow
There are a lot of opinions on carb loading. One of these opinions that it isn't all that important because the carbs your body does not use within a certain time period will get stored as fat. That time period is measured in hours, not days. There is still some truth to carb loading so I gleefully gobbled up all the carbs I could find. Not that I don't normally do that anyway because carbs are delicious!
I picked up my race pack on the weekend and bought a marathon day nutrition kit from High5. It was exciting and chock full of goodies. There was a bunch of gels, isotonic tablets, a free bottle, protein powder for recovery and one pretty tasty energy bar that I actually only ate today. The instructions said to take two gels an hour. That seemed a bit much so I planned to take one every 45 minutes.
Just Five More Minutes, Mum
I went to bed early the previous night and actually had a pretty good night's sleep. I was up at 5am, excited and ready to go. I could never train in the mornings because every time I tried getting up at 6am, I failed miserably because the snooze button is the best button ever invented.
Breakfast was two servings - in all fairness, they were small servings - of oatmeal and a bottle of isotonic drink. Keeping it simple. I braided my hair, put on my gear and stepped outside.
I'd been checking weather forecasts for a week. At first it was going to be raining - par for the course in Dublin, Ireland in the end of October - but on Sunday it said that Monday, the race day, would be 'bright, blustery with showers, some thundery.' Bright - great! But rain? Wind? Now, you can't really escape the wind in Dublin. I'd been doing most of my training runs in strong wind; over 30km/h is common enough.
It was cold. So cold! 10C and windy. Accounting for wind chill, it should have felt like 3C. I was wearing yoga pants over my capris; a windproof vest over my tank top and a waterproof jacket over that. I had already decided to run in the tank top because 10C is perfectly fine for it, if a little on the chilly side. Its a badass tank top from Australia's finest, Black Milk Clothing; it has muscle print on the back so, naturally, I had to wear it.
Half an hour later I get to the prep area. It's still looking a bit dodgy and there is a little light rain. I take off my warm yoga pants, the vest and the jacket, and put them in my bag. I take out the gels, put my phone in the arm band and stuff said gels between the band. I hand the bag to the kid in the storage area and walk to the starting area. It is 07:50. Wave three, where I am, does not start until 09:20. I have a plastic bag - the kind that they put over your dry-cleaned clothes - wrapped around my upper body but it doesn't help with the cold. I see many others with bin bags used the same way, with arm holes cut out. Many more wear long sleeves or layers. Only a few folks have been insane enough to go sleeveless, like me. There is no shelter from the cold, gusty wind on the street. Along with the other 15,000 shaking runners, I wait.
And So It Begins
The first wave starts at 09:00 and then the weather starts clearing up. The sun is out by the time my wave goes at 09:20. It's amazing! The wind persists but the sun makes everything immediately brighter and happier. Discarded clothes and bin bags line the barriers. The clothes will be donated to charity.
Before the first kilometre is over, a man leaps out of the pack and takes an urgent leak through a park fence. There were still queues outside the portaloos at start time so there are many others who didn't get a chance to go before the race. A part of the course goes through (a different) park and hundreds relieve themselves by the roadside, with the police right there. This is the only time they would ever get away with it in front of the cops. I even saw one lady squat. When you gotta go, you gotta go.
There are plenty of water stations where they had out small 250ml bottles. These are very handy; much better than larger bottles. The streets are lined with discarded plastic bottles and empty gel packs. The bottles get kicked around and accumulate in green waves in the gutters. There aren't enough bins around. Amazingly, everything was cleaned up by the next morning.
The first 10k were incredibly easy. The second ten were fine, too. Things got a bit uncomfortable about 30km in. At 35km my legs were hurting all over. My quads had never been in pain during or after training runs. Now they almost felt like they were constantly cramping and there was no relief from that. This is when I told the legs to shut up because I wasn't listening. It is said that that after 20 miles you run only with your brain because the body will start to constantly demand you stop, immediately. Parts of my legs are painful to the touch; it's never been like that before.
This was taken during the last stretch. I can tell because the gels are all gone.
There were probably thousands of people on the sidelines as we approached the finish line, yelling 'You're almost there!' to the exhausted runners. Mile (not kilometre) signs crept by with excruciating slowness. 5k is a pittance on its own but when it is the last 5k in a marathon, it feels infinitely more difficult. I'm sure its the same for those who finish in just over 2 hours; just...quicker.
And there it was, the finish line. I had just ran 42.195km/26.2m for the first time ever. It had taken 04:33:12. I only felt relief and accomplishment. I picked up the shirt and a finisher's medal, met my partner and walked to Pizza Hut get some pizza.
The pizza was great and I finished a half of it. After some longer training runs in the past I had felt nauseous for the remainder of the day. Maybe the gels helped? Then I tried to stand up from my chair - epic fail! This was only a wee sign of the things to come. After sitting on the couch at home for a few hours I was physically incapable of getting up using my legs. I had to lift myself up with my arms alone. I walked to work the next day, about 45 minutes, and back afterwards. Moving is supposed to help, and I can feel the improvement a little, although I still can't stand up from a sitting position using the legs. I don't see myself running again for a long time; definitely none of this 'four days after the marathon, do some light running' stuff. Haha! No chance.
The left foot is worse than pre-race. It is worse than when I stopped running, three weeks ago. I knew this would happen. Tendons are non-vascular and notouriosly take months to heal. Now have all the time in the world.
It's strange; after finishing a four-year part-time degree and training for a marathon, I have so much free time. There are many more books I'd like to finish and much more time to spend on video games. Maybe I'll even get to the gym once in a while; for the weights at first, not the treadmills. I probably won't be running on the pavement again until it gets warm again next spring. I'll see how I feel.
