Abingdon marathon - my autumn PB attempt

Everything was perfect for Abingdon: I'd tapered properly with 2 weeks since my last marathon, I was fit as a flea, well rested, and had avoided hangovers for over a week. The weather was perfect too, quite chilly first thing, but dry, bright, and warm enough for my go faster shorts and vest, I hate being weighed down with loads of kit. On the morning, I was full of energy and couldn't wait to get running. The aim was 3 hours 30 minutes. Not just a PB, which would have been anything quicker than 3'42'30, but 3 hours 30. 8 minute miling gets you in with a few seconds to spare, and is a nice easy calculation. It's a quick pace for me still so I knew my best tactic was even splits, I didn't have capacity to run a negative split, or even to run a positive split and build up a cushion. Basically, I can't accelerate much beyond 8 minute miling over anything more than about 5 miles, so I just hoped that my endurance would get me through the distance.

There were a bunch of us going for 3'30 - Peacey had kindly offered to pace me with Mark, and Jo and Sarah were going for the same time too. The first mile was slow with a bit of congestion, but Jo, Sarah and I blasted the second mile, enthusiasm getting the better of us a bit. We settled into about 7'50 - 7'55 pace which kept my mind happy, we were right on 3'30 pace. It did feel a bit quick though, and I couldn't talk much beyond the odd sentence, Sarah seemed to be finding it much easier. We'd already lost the boys by mile 3, and I felt bad about that but I had to stick to the slightly quicker pace if I had any chance of my target. Being in a little group of 3 was great, even if you're not talking, you can hang on their heels or lead from the front depending on who's feeling stronger.


L-R, Jo, me and Sarah having fun at this point

The next miles were completely uneventful, I didn't notice the surroundings much as I was concentrating on the pace and how the body felt (I'd need the head later). Time was passing really quickly, I do like this running as hard as you can business. By mile 12, we passed Fetchpoint and it was just superb - Lee and Jock dressed up as the 118 guys, though Lee looked more like a 70s porn star, unbelievable amounts of noise and cheering and just so much positive energy you couldn't help but be lifted by it. Apparently we were in a boring industrial park, but believe me, there was no point where I was bored in this race, I was working far too hard.

Even by the half way point, I was concerned about the pace, my breathing rate had increased and I could feel my heart hammering, plus my calves were starting to tighten up and my lower back to twinge. I never get aches and pains in a flat road marathon now, so the greater effort was definitely having a toll. Sarah was really encouraging though, so I decided to hang onto her until 16 miles and assess then. Just before mile 15, there's a tight left hand bend and as I came round it, my legs suddenly felt like lead. Maybe it was just a bad patch, so I pushed on for another mile. It wasn't a bad patch however, I was absolutely done in and there was nothing for it but to slow down. Gutted.

It was damage limitation now, I had completely overcooked it and am clearly not fit enough to run 26 miles at 8 minute mile pace just yet. I was still bang on pace at that point, going through 16 miles at 2 hours and 8 minutes. But by this point, I wasn't sure what pace I could sustain to the finish so had no idea whether I'd even PB. I still had 12 minutes' grace, so could slip to 9 minute miles and get a 3 minute PB, but even that seemed a bit stiff with 10 miles to go. The only thing I could do was to keep moving. At least I don't need to walk in marathons now, it's a mind game.

I slogged through the next few miles, with the intention of getting to Fetchpoint again at 20 miles, it's all downhill from there. Fetchpoint more than lived up to expectations, not only did it cheer me up, Harry and Dave gave me an extraordinarily special Vic Reeves-style thigh-rubbing welcome which made me laugh for about 2 miles. Thank you guys, I think you saved my race! I normally pick the pace up from 20 miles, and really enjoy picking people off one by one in the closing stages, but this time I was being passed by loads of people which was fairly demoralising. But I was still on for a PB and couldn't let that slip too. By this point, even if I kept 10 minute miling going I'd be ok.


Harry's special welcome

There was a lucozade point at about 22 miles and I was so low on energy I decided I needed to get a lot down me for the final few miles. I hated walking, but it took less than a minute to neck most of the bottle and it meant I didn't need to slow down for any more water stations. The last few miles were a bit of a blur really, just keeping the legs moving, ignoring the pain in my calves and quads, trying but failing to acknowledge the marshals. The last 400 yards are on the track in Tilsley Park and the atmosphere was brilliant. I knew I had a PB, and I knew I'd tried my damndest for the 3'30 so, while I'm not over the moon with it, the 3 hours 38 wasn't a disappointing result. I could have gone quicker if I'd started out slower, but that wasn't the plan. You have a plan and you stick to it for as long as you can. I haven't run a marathon with such a risky strategy before and it didn't work today, and it bloody hurt. But I know what I need to work on.

I'll get the 3'30 soon, but in the meantime my focus is on numbers - lots of marathons and lots of miles. I've been planning my spring training schedule for the TiT and it's daunting in the extreme - lots of doubles, some monster mileage weeks and some tough double marathon weekends. I'm looking forward to the challenge though, the next 2 months are for consolidation then it's time for proper hard work from January. Brilliant!