50th marathon in Marrakech

Marrakech was set to be my 50th marathon and 6th of the month. The 50th has come round really quickly, the tally was only 10 a year ago. I've learned that you can run multiple marathons if you ease up on the intensity, learn the difference between a niggle and an incipient injury and get well and truly hooked. It's as much a social thing now too, on Sunday, I saw about 10 people I know from marathons and some of these people are hugely inspirational. 100 club member Danny must be in his late 60s now, but every race I see him in, he comes bounding past me in the last few miles looking fresh as a daisy.

I was feeling ok for this race, if a bit wary. January was a difficult and frustrating month: I'm desperate to get into 10 in 10 training, but two trail maras have caused injuries to my ITB (8 days out) and Achilles tendonitis (4 days out) so the month's mileage was close to 100 miles below where I wanted it to be. On the other hand, I've learned that overuse doesn't cause me injuries, trail running does; now I've proved I CAN run those coastal trail blighters, they're shelved for now. So I was fixed, but only just, and I need to watch the Achilles very carefully over the next few months.

A marathon in Morocco is fairly unique: it produces some amazing distance runners so the winning time was about 2 hours 10, PDQ for a not very well known race. On the other hand, a Muslim country can't be expected to field many women in the sport, only about 10% of the field were female, and most of those were foreigners. I was looking forward to running in a very different environment and the route took us through palm, olive and orange groves as well as down long stretches of dusty road more characteristic of a rapidly growing city though happily there was little pollution to bother you until the final few ks. We were anticipating fairly chaotic traffic control but it was incredibly efficient, it seems that when the chaps in khaki or navy blue with epaulettes and braiding tell you to stop, you do it, immediately. We could do with some of that here in Blighty. The bit I was most looking forward to was running past camels and there were dozens of them, looking as proud and silly as only a camel can.

The race itself was great, after a few days' out with the Achilles I was well rested, though I've lost some fitness lately. My only tactic was to enjoy it, so I set out at a comfortable pace which turned out to be about 8'20 - 8'30 / mile. It was a social day out - running alongside the BF for a few k before he took off, then talking to a united nations of runners - Morrocan Najib, a Mexican chap, a French guy, Scottish Mel, Jerry from Derry (or was it Terry from Kerry?) as well as several English people too. Sadly I didn't get to practise Italian or German which I'm learning at the moment. My lack of fitness was evident in the last few miles, and I dropped to 9'30 / mile, but I was still very pleased with 3 hours 50 on a funny month and not much speed in my legs.

So that's the 50th marathon done and a bit of a landmark. Thinking back at all the uplifting, painful, emotional, soul-destroying and euphoric memories, it makes me look forward to the next 50 with a mix of trepidation and excitement. No matter how many you run, they're still a very long way and never to be underestimated, but I'm looking forward to seeing what's going to happen, especially in the 10 in 10.


Handing over my wannabe 100 club membership tenner to Roger