No regrets

I'm sitting here, on my own sofa on a Sunday morning with a brew that's in a mug, not a polystyrene cup. I'm not shivering in running kit in a primary school/village hall/sports centre in the middle of nowhere, and it's warm and dry in here whereas it's about 10 degrees and pouring with rain outside. God, I am SO happy I'm not running the Doyen of the Downs 30 over the South Downs today.

I started running the Gower marathon yesterday, which runs along the coastal path and back across country to make it a loop. The thought of more coastal path wasn't very alluring after the Pembrokeshire horror, but there was the consolation of cross country which surely ought to be less of a mountainous purgatory. However, with all the rain we've had lately, it was a mudbath. After about 3 miles, we were sliding around and expending more energy trying to stay upright than to make forward progress.

This isn't my version of running. Yes, after several hours, you're building strength and pure mental obstinacy, but you don't get that feeling that I love about running - the impression that the world is turning underneath you as you lope along, this is more like grinding a workhouse mill to turn, inch by inch. I like the pure mechanics of running, the feeling of your legs being able to stretch out in the same motion over and over and over again, and that's why I like the road and the track and the treadmill.

I was hating every single minute of this run, and was feeling significant time pressure too. My lift needed to get down to the South Downs that afternoon which meant I really needed a sub 6 to avoid making them really late. My pace, on the other hand, was suggesting 6 hours was unlikely and I was already the last runner by a long way. I was shocked by the pace set - noone was walking the hills and everyone was running at a very decent clip. By the checkpoint, it didn't take much suggestion that I'd get timed out to chuck it in.

So this isn't a list of excuses. I felt awful about chucking something in for no real reason, I wasn't tired or particularly injured (my feet are in a bad way but they have been for weeks) and I was, and still am, afraid that I'll lose a lot of people's respect. However, I've finally accepted that I Don't Like Trail. The views, the solitude and the peace are fantastic, but it's not for me. I'm sticking to road now, and maybe I'll even try a track marathon some time.

The self-reproach was pretty bad yesterday, but now I don't have any regrets. Of 37 marathons and ultras this year, I've had 3 DNFs: Kent 50 (ITB issues), Pembrokeshire day 3 (mild hypothermia and general knackeredness) and Gower (CBAs), but I've also run 34 marathons in 9 months, will have increased my 2008 mileage by 50% to 2,400 miles and was very proud to have organised an almost seamless team at the 192 mile, non stop, 26 hour Round Norfolk Relay that came in within 5 minutes of predicted time. No self pity allowed!

Florence marathon

Florence was just lovely, the start is up the hill in the Piazza Michelangelo overlooking the city and it was such a lovely morning P and I decided to walk up rather than endure the bun fight that was getting on the bus. It was one of the most pleasant starts to a big city marathon I've experienced: no bag drop, no metro journey to the start, far less chaotic than expected and a perfect bit of sunshine to enjoy the serene views over the city and hills beyond.

We ran the first k together as it was pretty congested and very slow but P pushed off after that. I was expecting a clear sub 3'30 from him (he delivered) and I was intending to take the first half very easy. My form hasn't been good lately so a sub 4 seemed quite ambitious, the best hope was a strong and enjoyable race regardless of the time. The next few ks were downhill to pick up a bit of speed, though I had to duck behind a bush for a loo break - it's a special quality of most of the continental marathons I've done that men are perfectly welcome to wee against any vertical surface, and girls just have to cross their legs.

I'd settled into a comfortable pace and after half an hour or so was consciously holding back, I wanted to take it easy until 30k then start picking it up. This made the time pass quite slowly, completely the opposite to Newcastle last weekend where each 5 mile lap seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. It reminded me of that Einstein quote that goes something along the lines of "Spending hours talking to a pretty girl feels like seconds, but seconds spent standing on hot coals feel like hours. That's relativity." Perhaps the difference was that there was so much to look at in this race so you spend ages looking around and soaking up the atmosphere rather than tuning out and getting into an almost meditative state. Sorry, I'm not getting new age here, I emphatically do not meditate in races, but there's something very calming about encouraging your brain to stop thinking in words and to drift where it likes. You might not feel you've thought about much, but you do feel remarkably relaxed.

At about 14k, the 4 hours pacers and the hordes around them went past. It didn't bother me, I wasn't chasing a time and I definitely didn't want to get caught up in any pocket of gridlock that accompanies pacers. I also met two Fetchies and had a bit of a chat, but otherwise it was uneventful, just cruising along, enjoying the feel of smooth tarmac under my feet and conditions that were warm enough for shorts and a vest. By 26k or so, the route swings back through the historic centre of town where the crowds and noise increased. Running through tight alleys with the Duomo peeking out the top was pretty special, I was loving it by this stage and finding it hard to keep my foot off the accelerator. Ah, to hell with it, I can run 10 miles hard.

The last 10 miles were fantastic, I was full of energy and was really enjoying it, it was hard to keep the big grin off my face. I'd gone through the half way point in 2 hours on the nose so if I maintained the same pace I'd get the 4 hours. To be honest, by this point I wanted a big fat negative split, to prove to myself that I can pace myself conservatively then push it when you're starting to tire and lots of people around you are flagging. At no point in this marathon, however, was I tired. It was brilliant, no physical or mental doubts all day. The finishing time was 3 hours 55 minutes, so that's about 9'10 / mile in the first half and about 8'40 / mile in the second, and I passed 1,769 people between the half way point and the finish line. A good day at the office!

I'm very very happy with the splits, so please excuse the geeky numbers:

Distance Time Position Pace (kph)
5k 28'02 5,644 9.9
10k 28'15 5,933 10.8
15k 28'58 6,088 10.9
20k 28'32 6,298 10.9
25k 28'32 6,161 11.0
30k 27'24 5,791 11.0
35k 27'14 5,205 11.1
40k 26'52 4,389 11.1
42.2k 11'22 4,529 11.2

I promise I won't do this too often...