Jersey Marathon

Disclaimer: this blog may be edited when I'm less grumpy)


It was drizzling when we started and it soon turned into heavy rain that persisted for the majority of the race. Not very nice but thinking of the masochists doing the Atlantic challenge (3 x well over 26 miles along the Cornish coastline in even worse conditions) helped put it into perspective. My aim was to take it really easy in order to run the whole thing, running so badly has been depressing me especially in the light of seemingly everyone else getting faster and faster. How ungracious. Running easy meant I went backwards in the first mile and it felt like the whole field passed me. I tried to ignore it but was disappointed to see that my easy pace was 9'30s, that's horribly slow.


Still, I was enjoying it as best I could, Jersey's a pretty place and the route is lovely - narrow lanes through the countryside and woods and the odd village. Running round the airport was a new one, those planes are quite loud when they're metres above your head. And the marshals in this race are the most complimentary I've encountered, I heard "Lovely legs" and "Very elegant" among others. I got through half way in 2'05 so if only 9'30s were manageable and allowing for a bit of drift in the second half, sub 4 was off really and even if I could run it all, 4'15 seemed like the most optimistic target.

The 9'30s still felt ok though I was having to run harder for them. With 7.2 miles left I had just over an hour to get to 4'00 that seemed impossible at my current rate of fitness. With 5.2 miles to go, I had 43 minutes, again, impossible. A soaring descent got me only an 8'26, going faster on the flat was unthinkable. The next mile, on the flat, was 8'44, it wasn't going to happen. But something came to mind, someone who believes that I can run faster than I think and it seemed a nice opportunity to see if he was right.

8'09. 7'50. I'd been passing marathon runners for 10 miles but now I was passing relay runners and the radio DJ who said "some runners are still looking relatively fresh" which was nice to hear. 7'28 for the last mile. On the approach to the finish, I passed a young guy shuffling in who saw me and immediately responded to race me in. My lack of acceleration and 3 mile kick meant there was no more speed so he just pipped me to the line, with one spectator yelling "let her have it" at his lack of sportsmanship. Can't get beaten by a girl eh? Idiot.

I was really happy with my race time and a big negative split (2'05 and 1'54) until it sank in that it's still rubbish. Running eyeballs out for only a 7'50 is rubbish. Only 6 months ago my easy pace was 8'30 / mile for THE WHOLE DAMN RACE. And then I got depressed. Jealousy is ugly, being pleased about a sub 4 is ridiculous when I was comfortably running 3'40s a few months ago, blogs are full of trophies, PBs and "I got rained on more than you" one-upmanship. I'm running like rubbish and the last thing that will help are platitudes about me being tired and over-raced.