3 marathons in 3 days: Part 2 - Greensands marathon

I was incredibly worried about this race, because it was organised by Dr Rob of Trionium who did the Picnic marathon back in June. That took in Box Hill and Mickleham Downs no less than 20 times and I was on the verge of throwing up and/or passing out for the entire 6 hours and 35 minutes it took me. This one wasn't going to be much easier, and had the added bonus of having a cut off of 1 hour 20 minutes for the first 7 miles, quite stiff when you consider it's largely uphill all the way.

There were loads of people around that I knew but I was in no fit state for company, and spent the entire race very reluctant to tall to anyone, it was going to be hell and I was better off suffering it alone. We set off, up a hill of course, and it was immediately head down to get the 7 miles done. It was a steady grind up and I would usually have walked the steeper uphills but the cut off was tight so I kept slogging on. I made the cut off point with several minutes to spare but it had cost a bit, I'd had to beast it to get there and now I was knackered. At least the legs weren't hurting too much from yesterday.

It was an odd way to start a marathon, it was just a 7 mile race to that point and now I had to completely change my mindset to think about the marathon distance. There was a water station after a few more miles where the girl cheerfully informed us we were at 9 miles. My garmin said 10.5. This completely broke me, utterly wiped out what scraps of confidence I had and wrote off my race. I did for a few seconds consider pulling out, if this was going to be a 29 mile marathon and I was already knackered, there was no way I'd get round.

I could at least get to the turn around point at half way, so I stumbled off up the hill feeling absolutely rotten. I confess I lost the plot here, I was knackered and hurting and had so far to go still, and I didn't even know how much further that far was. For the first time ever, I cried in a race and felt like even more of a dropout for losing it. After a few minutes, I decided I was being a snivelling wreck, and that I needed to toughen the fuck up. My usual technique here is to belt myself in the face a few times and yell some obscenities at myself, "Move your fucking arse, you lazy bitch, what the fuck are you whinging about", that sort of thing. It kind of works, if moving forward is any result.

By this point, people were starting to pass me on the way back and they did lift my spirits. The atmosphere at Trionium races is infinitely more collaborative than yesterday, most were saying encouraging things and you've got to put on a brave(r) face if people are going to see you. Thank god the half way point was bang on 13 miles, it was a huge comfort that the race wasn't stupidly long. Half a mile or so is ok, more than a mile is too depressing.

The way back was horrible, I was really hurting with a sore left knee and finding it difficult to get any speed up. At least I could keep shuffling, even up some of the shallower ascents. At the water station at mile 20, I think I worried the marshal when I took a bottle of lucozade and tears promptly started falling from my eyes, not because I wanted to cry, it was just someone being nice enough to give me something to drink. I'm such a wuss.

Fortunately the last few miles are mostly downhill and I managed to keep shuffling. For the first time in the race, I started thinking about the time and sub 5'30 was looking possible, and beating my time from yesterday was just about on the cards if I could hold it together. There was a small hill in the final mile but I managed to really pick it up in the last 15 minutes to pass a few people and half run, half fall down the hill to finish in 5 hours 18 minutes, 8 minutes quicker than yesterday. I've never been broken so much mentally and physically, that's two really rough days in a row. I am worried about tomorrow, but I'm hoping that because it's road and flat, my legs will go onto auto-pilot and just keep running of their own accord. And I can't wait for that pint at the finish.