New Forest marathon - #107

Plan A - beat 4:09:26 (previous course time)
Plan B - beat 4 hours
Result - 3:47:41, a 22 minute course best

I really liked this race when I did it two years ago, but suffered with a dodgy stomach and ran 10 minutes slower than I wanted to. I wasn't sure if 4 hours was on because it's a hilly course and I only did 3:56 on the flat Vilnius course a few weeks ago. As it was a training run, I decided to run fairly comfortably in the first half and see what happened after that, ideally without too much of a positive split. Ideally, I'd run all the hills and not stop to stroke the ponies.

It was great to see some old friends with lots of 100 clubbers out. I had a nice chat with Dave Lewis (who beat me by 8 seconds, another 1/4 mile and I would have had him) who wondered if I'd lost weight lately. I made some comment about not carb loading quite as often as I used to. I know I'm a fraction smaller at the moment but didn't think it was noticeable, christ, maybe marathons were making me a bit of a porker  After a few foreign races, it was good to be back in a UK race where you see people you know all the time.

My right ITB's been tight for a few days and my hip's playing up as a result. By 15 miles or so, it was pretty sore and by 17 miles I was having a reasonably sized wobble, it was hurting quite a bit, there were more hills, I was hot and dehydrated and low on energy. But that's standard at 17 miles no? I had one of those elevenses bars (not the nice ginger one, the sickly chocolate one) and got half of that down with a lot of water. By 19 miles, I was feeling much better. One of the marshals had told me I was 25th lady at about half way which works two ways. You're not going to get on the podium, no matter how good your second half is, but top 25 isn't too shabby. That extra bit of motivation kept me running up all the hills, even the big nasty one at 22 miles. As I went up, a supporter starting shouting "Whoo, go lady runner!" (there was a lot of encouragement to the girls, we must have been few and far between) but I was tracking down a girl ahead of me and shushed the supporter, pointing ahead of me and putting my finger on my lips. She thought this was hilarious and mimed shooing me up the hill. I passed the girl about two thirds of the way up, she hadn't heard me coming.

I knew it was all downhill from 23 so stepped on it a bit, last 3 in 8:38, 8:26 and 8:15 with the last 1/4 mile at 7:30 pace. I took out 3 or 4 other ladies in that stretch and finished 18th of 150 ladies, sod the legs!

Race notes:
Lovely course, with lots of very scenic stretches and loads of ponies
Loads of water stations, but nothing else on offer
Some great support for a smallish marathon, especially the signs up the hill
Directions to parking were rubbish
It's a bit galling when they have free food for "runners" but all the half runners have scarfed it before you get there. They've only run half the distance too!
The only good thing about the goody bags was the Waitrose bag for life. Has whoever makes those oaty biscuit bars ever sold one? They're in half the goody bags across the land!
Fab 3 mile downhill finish, though it doesn't feel very downhill when your legs are about to fall off
Extra mentions to the men with a Viking warship and the firefighters with oxygen tanks. Very impressive.
And thank you to the marshal at the turnaround point who made me laugh when he pointed at me and said "I'll see YOU at the finish"

Vilnius marathon

Some time ago, it seemed like a good idea to use marathons as an excuse to visit lots of places I wouldn't ordinarily have gone to, ie. an excuse for a lot of weekends away. Flights were cheap, short haul journeys swift and painless, small European cities charming and dirt cheap. Sadly, in these times of high commodity prices, flights are not a total bargain (still cheaper than visiting my mum near the Lake District by train), short haul journeys are a total pain in the arse if you fly through Luton or Heathrow and the euro has priced most of us out of EU cities. On the positive side, they're still charming, especially as the tourists can't afford or be bothered to go there any more.

I've run Nottingham a couple of times and fancied a marathon somewhere different this weekend, and the choice was Wroclaw, Tallinn and Vilnius. I can't remember why we chose this one, I think it might have been the cheapest and didn't involve running around a traffic cone. Or so we thought, there was one turn around a traffic cone, repeated 4 times, policed by a chip mat and a bloke in army fatigues lying in the bough of a tree looking supremely comfortable and half asleep. The sod.

So we ended up in Lithuania, and it's quite nice really. The local dishes are terrible and makes you wonder just how bad the food was before they had any money but the city is rather sweet, full of crooked streets, ankle turning cobbles and millions of churches. Saturday is definitely wedding day, we saw a lot of shiny puffy frocks that you wouldn't want to wear near a naked flame. Maybe love is in the air, as we walked along the banks of the river, the Lithuanian for "I love you" and "I love you too" were planted into opposite banks with flowers. The effect was dampened slightly by all the broken glass about and the scary looking down-and-outs dangling fishing rods into the river.

I wasn't looking forward to Sunday's marathon in the slightest and because I was avoiding thinking about it so much, overdressed on autopilot purely because it was a bit nippy at 9am. Two layers, capris and Mark's gloves were huge overkill especially by the finish when it was pretty damn hot and the freebie tech t-shirt that acted as a second layer chafed a big gash under my arm within 5 miles. I had to carry it the rest of the way which made me look like I had a giant pink boxing glove on.

The race was quite nice, 4 laps of a loop down the river and around the town with plenty of company from the other races. The relay runners were generally shit, each leg was 10.5km but hardly any of them seemed to be capable of running the whole lot without stopping. I passed one walking about 6km in. In the full, there were a few ladies knocking around at my pace and a 100 clubber complete with cowboy hat I didn't recognise who turned out to be an American, running about my pace and told me to call him Cowboy. Seemed a bit familiar, but I suppose you should respect local customs. My strategy was to have a solid training run and ideally pick up the pace each lap. It didn't really happen. My pace felt very comfortable for the first half, to the point where Cowboy said "Jeez, you're so quiet, I can't hear you breathing!" I lost him after some time and started to pick off the odd lady but only because they were falling behind rather than because I was speeding up. It was the usual put more effort in to maintain the same pedestrian pace.

I'd hoped to speed up in the last lap but I was too knackered and dehydrated by then, the water stations were spaced really poorly and only gave you a thimble of liquid in each cup. Fortunately my pacing meant no walk breaks were needed and that my pace didn't slip too much. Sub 4 was a bit tight though, I managed 3:56:56. To be honest, the 3:30 seems impossible at the moment. It was enough for 7th lady of 28 (about 250 runners in total, it's not a girl's game round these parts). After the Cyberman style walk back and a shower, we'd cleverly booked into the spa to which our apartment was attached. A light massage was blissful, it got rid of just enough soreness without making you chew the pillow. A calm dark room, no sweaty kit, loads of fluffy towels and no smell of liniment were far from a brisk rub down in a gazebo from a chatty physiotherapist. I got the better deal than Mark whose "herbal ball" massage seemed to consist of hot towels being slapped on him. His paper g-string made me giggle too.

It's now 4pm and I have been awake for 14 hours due to the obscenely early flight where I sat next to a giant Russian-looking man who seemed to gradually expand and fill more and more of my seat as time passed. His forearms were bigger than my biceps and I wouldn't have been surprised if the girth of one of his thighs was as much as my waist. He snored too. I was too scared of him to elbow him in the ribs so just had to push Mark towards the aisle. At least if I stuck behind him through security, I wouldn't be the one having my bags searched.

Helsinki marathon

I've just read this back and it's boring. Sorry kids.

I can't comprehend how I've run over 100 marathons, or why. It's so bloody far and takes hours. I am quite out of practice, it being 3 months since my last marathon, the longest gap in 2 1/2 years, and have had to do long training runs for the first time since then. 2 had gone ok and 2 had gone appallingly so Helsinki was likely to end with a whimper rather than a bang, even if I did resist the temptation to go bombing off.

Continuing to get my excuses in early, it was a 3pm start which isn't right for all manner of reasons. I'd had a long day on Friday, only arriving at the hotel after midnight, and then had to walk to the start, back to the hotel and back to the start again before the race, which was over 90 minutes in total. It was also pretty warm and windy. Not terrible conditions but a fair bit is over the islands and waterways and quite exposed. I decided to run to feel and try to enjoy it.

It was an enjoyable race, the Scandinavian countries are brilliant for running with all their cycle ways and their races have a great atmosphere. None of that aggression in French races, nor the stinkiness of German races. This was very civilised and polite, with hardly any argy bargy even in the first k. It amused me to notice I was wearing one of 3 pairs of Stella McCartney running shorts within 5 square metres in the start pen. I've never seen any in a race before, other than my own, and here were 3 of us, all in virtually the same ones.

The route was rather nice, some of it in the city centre but a lot just outside, over small islands and some very pretty bridges in the later stages. Luckily it wasn't too big a race so the cycle paths weren't too crowded. There was quite a bit of gravelly path too, and not a small amount of cobbles. It was largely flat with a few bumps, noticeably a steep 50 metres at 15km, a longer climb at 40k and a hoick up a small bump just before the 42k marker that wasn't at all welcome. Running into the stadium for the last 200 metres was great, especially as I had my name and club called out. No matter what I think about the marathon being devalued, I was quite proud to be announced as a member of the 100 club.

My legs had indeed forgotten how to run for the best part of 4 hours and got slower and slower throughout. Half way in 1:49 was steady but likely to be followed by a positive split. It was feeling really really really long though, glaciers were traversing valleys, layers of rock being laid down on the Jurassic coast and whole continents were separating from each other in the time it took to get round this race. I'd been drinking loads of lemon Gatorade (much more refreshing than sticky orange flavour) and chucking water over myself at each of the very frequent water stations and was now walking through them for a bit of a break. The distance was a bit too much for me though, and I need a few more goes at the full 26.2 before I have another bash at the PB. How I used to do this every weekend, or even on consecutive days is baffling.

When I finished (3 hours 50) and had collected my drinks and stuff (including a delicious yoghurt drink, and chocolate weetabix, not sure why they gave us that), I lay on the grass of the stadium trying to get the pain to subside. It was awful. How had I normalised this distance so much that I forgot how much it hurts? I had the shakes really badly so decided to get back to the hotel for a hot bath rather than try to find 10 in 10 Chris and his daughter who was running her first. It took a lot longer than the usual 30 minutes, in fact, I got overtaken by an old lady with a stick by the lake. She had the inside line, but still, that's embarrassing.

Oh yes, I had reindeer meatballs for lunch yesterday. They would have been nicer if they hadn't been so undercooked.

Stockholm marathon - #104

This was meant to be a PB race and I'd done all those things you're meant to do for races like getting expert advice and training and tapering and thinking about strategy and stuff. I even had a pacer which was one of the thing worrying me the most, I have been known to get grumpy in marathons and it would have been a bit rude to have a go at the person trying to help me out. So all the ducks were in a row for Saturday, they'd even brought the race start forward to 11.30 and the weather was perfect apart from being a bit blustery.


The plan was for 7:55s and we started off right on pace. You usually have to hold yourself back in the first mile no? Especially if it's downhill? Not this time. Curious. The route is a very handsome one indeed in Stockholm, lots of long stretches along the water and a nice chunk through the park. It is, however, two laps with the first half of each lap net downhill and the second half net uphill and including a stonking big bridge. There's also a strong and admirable environmental aspect to the race, but water in cups rather than bottles and only on one side of the road makes for lots of congestion and many elbows. The Scandinavians are tall and the bulk of these elbows are inconveniently at female bosom height. Ouch.


The pace was feeling quite fresh very early on which I didn't like, I wanted the first half to be easy or at least easy enough to be able to have a bit of a conversation, there were some extraordinary outfits on show which I pointed and went Ugh at. Mark seemed quite happy trotting along beside me but soon looked a bit bored. By the time we'd done the first lap at 17k, I was already having to concentrate on my form and by the time we got into the park at 20k I was trying very hard not to panic. I have no idea why the effort level was so high but I've run enough of these marathons to know that you can have all your ducks in a row but you still need a bit of luck on the day and my legs weren't cooperating.


Anyway, we got through half way in 1:46 which indicated the 3:30 was off given how shit I was already feeling. I didn't mention any of this to Mark of course. The next target was 25k, then the dreaded 25-30k, my least favourite chunk by far. Ideally, you coast through to 25k, have a wobble in the next 5k (it's so FAR! I don't need to do this any more! I don't want another sodding medal!) then mentally it's all downhill from 30k. But getting to 25k wasn't easy and the undulations and cross wind in the park didn't help. Mark was now looking really really bored especially when I fell off the back on every single incline. I felt responsible.


So what do you do? You just keep going as best you can, while feeling like you're letting your coach down and boring the pants off your pacer. Shame I didn't get to try the pickled gherkins at 21k, or the vegetable stock at 33k but I was putting everything into it and was already feeling a bit sick. The camber was screwing up my right ITB and glute and the incline up the bridge raised a bit of discord. This was the only point where Mark urged me to put some effort in. I thought this was deeply unfair because if I wasn't putting any effort in up a 30m ascent in less than 1/2 a km, then I'm not sure where else I could have been. If he'd bullied me on the flat then maybe I could have worked a bit harder but not up that slope. Luckily I was too disappointed with myself to get grumpy so I just felt a bit more morose.


Off the bridge, right hip now really sore, Samba band on the corner (all the blokes drifted to the left to look at the young girls who looked quite chilly, and quite bored, giving me the first clear run round the racing line to the right), then on and on and on and on until the longed for coke oasis. It was flat and out of a huge, lorry sized container but it tasted like nectar. The sticky floor afterwards made us laugh too. The last 5 or so k are all uphill and it was all a bit tired. Very nice finish on the bouncey track in the Olympic stadium, shame the garmin came out quite so long (normally get 0.2-0.3k long, this was almost 0.6k extra), shame the medal didn't have a ribbon, shame I couldn't walk the 200m to the race village without slumping onto a bit of ground in a lot of pain for 10 minutes. At one stage, the waves were washing in and out, you know when you can hear the rushing in your ears and the sick rising in your throat because it hurts so much? Yeah, like that. I had to go down a ramp backwards. What a knob. The DOMS is still pretty bad and I think I may have been running on a broken toe (it's been uncomfortable for weeks but now is suspiciously immoveable, unweightbearable, very sore and very swollen). Why race a marathon and end up in such a mess when you can ease off a bit, only add 10 minutes to your time and have a great day out, eating gherkins, mocking all in one lycra jumpsuits and looking at the scenery? I feel like I missed out a little bit.


Oh yeah, the time, almost forgot about that. It was 3:38:37 which I'm not all that disappointed with to be honest, I don't think I could have run that much harder. Sure, the 3:30 was possible on paper but for whatever reason it wasn't going to happen on Saturday. I do know that I ran my legs off, and that I didn't think oh fuck it and start walking, and that it bloody hurt from about 19km, and that I had a very good pacer who could possibly have been a bit tougher on me but probably doesn't want to see me suffer too much. I'd quite like the 3:30 to happen when I'm not looking, like my other 3:3x PBs but there are plenty of other races.


Apart from that, it was a great weekend. I like bagging marathons in new countries especially in cool places with excellent company. Fuck the carbon footprint. And the cost. Did you read Mark's blog? 

Shakespeare marathon - #103

Having had a couple of shockers at Brighton and London, I really wanted a decent run at Shakespeare. It wasn't a target race, but was my last long run before Stockholm in 3 weeks and important for my confidence, as even an attempted 20 miles last weekend ended up with me crawling home totally wiped out and very demoralised. It wasn't going to be easy, even at 9:00 minute miles, as I'd done some really tough training sessions during the week: a hilly off road 10k in 7:40s on Monday, 7.5 miles of 6 x 4-minute intervals on Tuesday, 11 miles at target marathon pace on Thursday, and an "easy" 5 miles on Saturday, that became 7 miles at 8:30s. I was rather tired.


The plan was to set off very slowly and this was achieved thanks to the many many thoughtful people who had placed themselves right up the front and set off at about 11 or 12 m/m pace. Our fault for getting to the start so late but my determination to be totally relaxed meant I was so laid back we almost missed it, particularly because it wasn't where we thought it was. Mark had forgotten his chip and had to run back to the car too. No stress here! After a few miles of jostling and tripping over people it got fractionally clearer but there were still dozens of people with earphones. They seemed keen on running about 4 yards out from the kerb when we met the main road too. Time penalties for all of them.


I wasn't paying much attention to my garmin this time and was keeping myself slow by chatting to people, there were loads of 100 Clubbers out, a few Fetchies including one (apologies, I didn't catch your name) who was pacing a mate to a 1:50 half. Poor mate was blowing out of his arse by 3 miles and down on his target already, I hope he didn't suffer too much, but suspect he did. I spent the hillier mile chatting to 10 in 10 Chris, and blame him fair and square for my slowest mile of the race  Nah, not really, it was a slow mile the second time round (though not quite as slow!). 


The Greenway was fine on the first lap, the rain had taken most of the dust out of it and it was still reasonably cool and still. It got a lot sunnier and claggier on the second lap, with a wind coming in from the side, rather vexing as it ought to have been behind us after being in our faces on the way out. The second lap had gone really well, legs were feeling pretty comfortable and the inclines manageable, and I was feeling positive. The Greenway is rather a test as it's long and straight and goes from about 20 to about 25 miles so you know this is where things can go a bit wrong. Luckily I was feeling fine, and knew I only needed 10 min/miles for a sub 4. I wanted to push the last few miles if I could but wasn't getting much acceleration (only the last mile was an 8:12) but was still passing loads of people, only one took me back in the last 6 miles, so that was a nice confidence boost.


Having worked through the last few miles, sub 3:50 was possible and I finished in 3:48:34, faster than either of Brighton and London, and a negative split of 1-2 minutes. Very very pleasing. I'm not sure how on earth I'm going to run almost 20 minutes quicker than that in 3 weeks' time, especially given the state of glutes afterwards (they really really hurt  ) but it was a good training week. Intervals tomorrow 


PS. This is the sort of freaky leg thing that happens when you do too much running. No, I don't have metal struts in my legs. 

I had another disappointing run at London. Having started ok, if not terribly fresh, it became clear at 12 miles that it would be a long haul. The incline over Tower Bridge is nothing more than a slope, and yet it felt like hard work! The last 10 miles of the race were a bit of a drag but luckily there was a superb collection of cheering Fetchies at 22 miles to look forward to, and to provide a blissful G&T, all ready mixed and in a sports bottle so I could take it with me. It certainly helped me get through the last 4 miles! The 4:02 finishing time was woeful and left me thinking that I ought to retire from marathons after Stockholm. I'm definitely not entering any autumn races for the time being. 

Spotting the G&T after 22 miles

Brighton marathon - #101

It wasn't a very auspicious start when I missed my train out of Victoria, the Boris bike got me there with 10 minutes to spare but I couldn't find a docking station, and the one I eventually found was full. The nearest one was a 5 minute walk away. I wasn't too fussed as it gave me time to get a cup of tea but it did mean I missed a few people at the start. It was the first outing for my 100 club vest and the occasional reaction was wonderfully positive, especially the people who said something along the lines of "blimey!" when I went past (of course it could have been something else entirely they were commenting on). It made me feel like it really was worthwhile, and I had a few people comment on how young I seemed to be to be wearing it. 

Bit of a Where's Wally pic, but this is the best one of me in my vest that I didn't have to pay £25 for

The plan was to run the first half at 8:20 - 8:30s, then the second half at 8:00s. The start of the race felt very fresh and comfortable but sticking to 8:30s was proving near impossible, having to bounce up and down a lot to keep the pace down. It was also quite tiresome having to be so glued to the garmin, I was checking it 2 or 3 times a mile and it was doing my head in a bit. I think I would rather have run this one to feel rather than to pace, but it was an experiment, and progressive running had worked for the Finchley 20.

The first half was in 1:48, only 2 minutes faster than planned, so that was fine, but as soon as I tried to accelerate it felt difficult. I got to 16 ok in around 8:00s but had to stop for a loo break at 17, no chance of waiting another 9 miles. I'm not really sure what went wrong after that. It was ok to 19 and Fetchpoint which was fabulous, thank you Fetchies, but I was feeling a bit drained and heavy. After that, my rhythm went out of the window, had to tie a shoelace at 20, got a bit hot and grumpy around the power station (I do still like this bit), had severe CBAs. A pacer would have helped. By 23, I knew I'd run the last 3 in about 27 minutes and knew the support would really help too. The time wouldn't be what I wanted but it would be sub 3:45.

Just after 24m however, I saw a runner on the verge of collapse. I'd already lost my PB so felt I should help her get to the next St John's, along with a chap called Jon. She was pretty much delirious, made no sense whatsoever, and was staggering around in any direction other than forwards. Not in a good way. But there were no St John's until the finish so we had to part run, part drag, part coax, part bully her over the next 2 miles, sometimes pulling her by her hand, or pushing her from the back, or occasionally jogging backwards in front of her to get her head up. The spectators quite liked that. It would have been much better to leave her with a medic, she was bad enough that she should have stopped and any further back it would have been the best thing to do. But she was so close to the finish and there were no medics about and I didn't want to leave her. She did manage to run the last 400 metres to the finish and pip a very sweaty looking Chewbacca to the post. I had to apologise to him for making him a target - "you CAN'T get beaten by a bleedin' Chewbacca!"

I have mixed feelings about it, on the one hand, I couldn't have left her as she looked so bad, but on the other, more selfish side, I do feel like I chucked away a half decent time (it could have been 13-15 minutes faster). Not very gracious really.

By the time I got to the pub my mood was pretty grumpy (not helped by having seen the last person I would have expected to see, and who had been extraordinarily unpleasant on our last encounter, and by being bashed into by dozens of spectators, Brighton does need to sort the finish out), only to be cured by large applications of alcohol. Nothing to do with being disappointed and having low blood sugar or anything. The wine was terrible, the burgers were fortunately a lot better than the uncooked veggie sausages and there was no outdoor space (we'd probably had enough of the sun by then) but enough people turned up to make enough noise to empty the rest of the pub. Next stop, the Chandos. Just 26.2 miles to get there.

Top 5 medals

Slightly less self-congratulatory / self-deprecating this time. These are my 5 favourite medals. Extra points awarded for a big chunky lump of hardware, depth of relief, artistic effort and attempt to capture the flavour of the individual marathon. 

#5 - Porto. Good attempt at depicting the elegant bridge over the Douro river, ever so slightly let down by a bit of blurriness. (Photo is of Porto and La Rochelle)

#4 - Brighton. Even though this has rusted a fraction, the Brighton Pavilion is an elegant and stylish image. I like the simplicity of this one, just the image and the name and year of the race (and a tiny logo). Big too. Very nice.

#3 - La Rochelle. This is beautiful, it's the view of the two towers in the harbour (you finish by the one on the right) with a small boat. The quality and finish are superb and it's in fairly deep relief. It's also got the founder's vizog on the reverse, but the front is excellent.

#2 - Florence. Florence puts a different image relating to the city on its medal each year, this year was Galileo with his telescope. The amount of detail is extraordinary for a race medal, and the finish quality spot on, you can even see an expression on Galileo's face. It's not easy to make people look like people, but Florence has managed it, even in the Renaissance style. Exquisite.

#1 - 100 marathon club. Ok, this is a bit of a cop-out. Florence is a far better medal. But this wins because of its rarity and because it sums up all the 100 marathons it took to run it. It captures not only the landscapes and city scapes that I've been lucky enough to see but also the thousands of miles of pavements and roads that have got me there. There were times where all you see is grey - grey concrete, grey roads, grey skies, grey buildings, grey flyovers. But there are times where you see sights that make your breath catch in your throat. This reminds me to remember them.

And here's a rubbish pic of them all hanging in my loo, along with a windowsill full of trophies and awards and stuff. Sadly, none of them proves that I can run very fast, just that I enter poorly populated events. Choose your races wisely, kids!

Fastest and slowest marathons

My 5 slowest marathons and ultras. Further exposition of the sheer misery that accompanied each of these events can be found in my blog but it's safe to say that they were all Horrid.


#5 - Langport Day 2, 5 hours 58. The nettles! THE NETTLES!!!


#4 - The Picnic, 6 hours 35. The most stupid marathon ever. If it weren't for the bonkers Dr Rob of Trionium and his silly signs and making us sing the National Anthem or whatever at the start, this would be terrible.


#3 - Portland Coastal 6 hours 38. That shingle beach totalled my achilles for months afterwards.


#2 - Pembrokeshire Coastal Day 1, 6 hours 50. Oh my god, what had I let myself in for? There were 2 more days of this.


#1 - Pembrokeshire Day 2, 8 hours 40. By the end, I couldn't even stand up without being knocked over by the wind. Let alone walk. Let alone run. (I DNF'd Day 3 with a touch of hypothermia and very very empty tanks)




5 fastest races (no ultras in here)


#5 - La Rochelle, Nov 2010, 3 hours 40. Awful awful awful, was knackered, couldn't see, felt like I was going to pass out, was a total wreck at the finish. Thank god for Mark's company.


#4 - Abingdon, Oct 2009, 3 hours 38 (4 min PB). Managed 16 miles at 3:30 pace but blew up. Should have gone for a slower target but it's worth doing the odd race with a risky strategy. It might just work.


#3 - Seville, Feb 2010, 3 hours 37. Really strong 12k at the end to squeak a 1 minute PB. 


#2 - VLM, April 2010, 3 hours 36. One week after Brighton (see below). Could have PB'd here but stopped to hug various mates. Worth it :-)


#1 - Brighton, April 2010, 3 hours 36. Recipe for a PB: previous week, run 100 miles in 6 days at 8:30 average pace, including 2 marathons in Connemara. Take Monday off (you've got a sparrows' farts flight in the morning anyway), then run 10 miles on Tuesday, 10 miles on Thursday (at 7:35 pace), 10 on Friday then go out and get absolutely battered. Wake up on Saturday with the worst hangover ever, deal with this by drinking another bottle and a half of red wine. Forget to charge your garmin so have no watch for the race. Have a bacon and egg roll for breakfast. Run a 90 second PB :-)

Best marathon goody bags

Best goody bag this time, organisers get extra points for yesterday's locally themed stuff, anything truly unique, and for tech t-shirts in female fit. You know how many of us have entered your race, it's not that bloody hard.


#5 - Faversham. A bottle of Spitfire (Shepherd Neame is brewed in Faversham) and a giant and supremely naff trophy because we're all winners. The communists' marathon, no winners here (sorry TZ).


#4 - Zurich New Year's Eve. A white string vest. No logo on it to explain why you'd own a white string vest, just a white string vest. No medal either, but the vest was very special.


#3 - La Rochelle. What a haul, a beautiful medal, a drawstring backpack, a rose for the ladies, a fabulously garish windcheater the size of a tent and a bourrette of oysters and oyster shucker. 


#2 - Seville. The best bargain race I've done. I missed the free feed both before and after the race but did come away with a huge medal, a giant towel, a running vest (technical - tick, lady sized - tick, green - fail) and a pair of racing knickers!! My theory is you have to be sub 3'15 to wear racing knickers and in possession of an extremely pert and compact behind. This rules out most of the female field. Oh well, nice gesture.


#1 - Porto. Again, a beautiful medal, a rucksack, 2 t-shirts (1 technical, green and vast, 1 cotton, red and vast, neither good but both appreciated), 2 baseball caps, some odds and sods like a keyring and samples, a drawstring bag, a rose for the ladies, free lunch at the expo, free pint of beer at the finish, and a 750ml bottle of commemorative port :-) The port was the clincher, if not the fuzzy head on the startline.

Best Locally Themed Mementos

I've also stuck in the Most Inappropriately Named Marathons as there aren't really enough for their own list:


#2 - The Dorset Doddle. 32 miles along the Jurassic Coast from Weymouth to Swanage, up and down and up and down. Beautiful views, but exhausting.


#1 - The Picnic marathon. Yes, there's a picnic at the finish but this race is contrived by the bonkers Dr Rob of Trionium to be the most ridiculously difficult marathon ever. 


Best Locally Themed Mementos


#10 - Dartmoor Discovery 2008 - a glass block with the route laser etched into it. Shame they don't do these any more.


#8 & 9 - Snowdonia and Windermere for the slate coaster (Snowd) and slate medal (Windy)


#7 - London - London Pride on tap at the Expo, worth a few circuits of Excel


#6 - 10 in 10, a huge chunk of slate with a wicked pointy top, much more unique than a medal and a very handy weapon if you have intruders


#5 - Faversham - a bottle of Shepherd Neame, as brewed in Faversham


#4 - La Rochelle - a box of about 2 dozen oysters, and an oyster shucker. Not very practical, but very local.


#3 - Cornish - a piping hot pasty at the finish. 


#2 - Porto - a full size bottle of port. Not very handy for those with hand luggage, but must be drunk before departure.


#1 - Jersey - local, icy cold, creamy milk at the finish line. Unbelievably delicious.


Now I need to get to the Epernay marathon for the champagne and back to Bordeaux for the red, and I reckon there'd be interest in races in Melton Mowbray for the pies, Cheddar for the cheese and Cartmel for the best sticky toffee pudding ever.

Top 5 Negative Splits

Now for a rather more personal list. The time is how much quicker the second half was compared to the first half.


#5 Dublin 2009 - 5 minutes (2'13 + 2'08 = 4'21). Bit of a cheat this one as, being totally wiped out from Beachy and Greensands the previous two days and not enough sleep, I'd fallen asleep on the run and had to have a bit of a nap in an ambulance at about 11 miles to get me through it. Not recommended.


#4 Barcelona 2009 - 2 minutes (1'52 + 1'50 = 3'42'30). This was my first sub 3'45 and the pacing was perfect, this race started at 30k. Could probably have run the whole thing a bit quicker.


#3 Florence 2009 - 5 minutes (2'00 + 1'55 = 3'55'14). A easy long slow run of a marathon. I went through the first half in 2 hours on the nose then started racing from 16 miles, passing 1,769 runners in the second half, a whopping 39% of the field.


#2 Seville 2010 - 3 minutes (1'50 + 1'47 = 3'37). By the time I got to 30k, I had 1 hour and 1 minute to equal my existing PB, exactly 8'00 minute miling. I've no idea where it came from but I beat it by a fraction. Hardly worth it, but an exhilarating final hour.


#1 Jersey 2010 - 9 minutes (2'05 + 1'54 = 3'59). Nowhere near my best overall time but the clear winner on the negative split front. I think this proved to me that even though my legs were unbelievably over-trained, over-raced and my head was sick to death of marathons, I could still beast myself on occasion. 


(Luckily, I don't have the stats for the positive spits ;-) )

Ok, if you're racing a marathon, the scenery doesn't matter in the slightest as you won't be able to see it. Hence, tomorrow I'll list the fastest courses I've run / best PB potential. Here are some ideas for marathons to treat as long slow runs. (When my computer's fixed I'll try to find some photos)


Best scenery


#6 - Mauritius. Roads lined with bougainvillea, mountains, ocean, kids with huge grins and finishing on the beach. Stunning.


#5 - The Cornish. Bodmin Moor, a charming valley bottom and cute hamlets.


#4 - Dartmoor Discovery. Dartmoor, wide open views over the tors, ponies on the route, fab ancient stone bridges and more cute hamlets.


#3 - Snowdonia. Snowdonia National Park, innit.


#2 - Connemara. The biggest open spaces I've seen in the UK and virtually noone there. Monumental, forbidding and utterly beautiful.


#1 - Langdale. I love the Lake District, even in spite of family caravan holidays there several times a year, usually in the cold and wet. This is one of my favourite spots in the world - burnt orange bracken on the fellsides, huge hills (that you have to run over), cute fat brown sheep and a great pub at the finish.


Best city scenery


#5 - Hamburg. Loads of stunning lakeside to run along through some very well off parts of the city.


#4 - Florence. For the start overlooking one of the most beautiful cities in Europe.


#3 - Barcelona. Starting under the National Art Museum, with a fine stretch along the beach.


#2 - Porto. You get to run along the sea and the river for the bulk of this race, and over a stunning bridge. Gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous.


#1 - Rome. Easy choice. You start and finish at the Colosseum, run through the Vatican, pass so many ancient and important sites that it's not the cobbles tripping you up, it's the fact that you're looking anywhere but the road. Simply superb.

100 up in Malta

I was enormously touched this weekend by the number of people who came out to Malta to help me celebrate my 100th marathon, I never dreamed there would be so many people there. For someone who counts herself as a bit of a misanthropist, I appear to have a lot of very good mates and count myself extremely lucky. My ears were burning, however, on Saturday evening after we'd witnessed a day of torrential rain and bracingly cold temperatures, everyone must have been cursing me for dragging them out to run a marathon in the pouring rain. Together with the high winds on Sunday morning, my promises of sunshine seemed quite hollow. Honestly, I did get a tan last year, and there's proof of the sun on the marathon's website with a photo of me running past a huge triumphal gate in a crop top (funnily enough, I have no memory of the gate, and didn't even clock it this time round). It didn't look very likely this time round. 

So after all the rain on Saturday, there was enormous amounts of standing water about, Malta doesn't seem to put much emphasis on drainage. Within the first few miles there was a huge puddle that had us teetering along the edges like precious brats who don't want to get their shoes muddy. The best was later on, a small pond covered the road for about 100 metres. The resourceful Maltese had placed a low dry stone wall along this road complete with concrete lid, about 30 centimetres wide, perfect for balancing along to keep your feet dry though the climb up, the fallen down bit in the middle, the road sign to duck under and the jump off weren't most ideal if you were racing flat out. 

I of course wasn't racing flat out but did get predictably carried away with the downhills. I knew I'd probably blow up a bit, just like last year, but this wasn't about time really, sub 4 was all I wanted for my #100. So the first 15/16 miles averaged about 8 minute miling but the pre-race tea was proving extremely diuretic, and distracting. At 25k, I just had to stop in a handy field. This field also contained a horse who seemed quite curious about his visitor and decided to wander over to have a closer look. Maybe it doesn't get many runners visiting him. 

By this point, you start to feel like you're in an Escher drawing. You start at Mdina at the top, then run around in extremely confusing loops, doubling back on yourself, visiting the stadium over and over again, running the same patch of road in different directions, seeing the Mdina fortifications from every possible angle. Trying to figure out where the hell you've been is futile. But there is lots of downhill, and the sun came out, and the half runners were frequently very encouraging, and the road was wide enough to get around the walkers and for the 1/2 runners to pass. 

I was really enjoying the run, the sun on my back, the downhills, the congratulations thanks to the "100th marathon today (yes really)"  on my back. Running past a brass band playing the Brazil theme tune was also pretty memorable. A great race to finish on, and in stark contrast to the cold grizzly grey of the London 50k last weekend. By the last 7k I was bushed (they don't get easy no matter how many you do) and there were a few walking breaks, however Anna Seeley caught me up and dragged me into the finish, thanks Anna! She mentioned it was a fine coincidence we ran part of her first marathon together and now part of my 100th. 3'42 was better than hoped for, by a long way, and my 7th fastest ever. I'm definitely fitter and better rested than 4 months ago, even with Wokey 1/2 and the London 50k in my legs, so the 3'30 is the next logical goal. Yeah yeah, about bloody time. 

There was a superb reception at the finish, Helen had won the ladies' race and Mark had smashed his PB. There were other PBs and excellent performances too so the Laurent Perrier went down very well indeed, even in paper cups from Burger King. Standing in the sunshine with my mates, waiting for the other finishers and drinking champagne was just what I hoped for. It goes without saying that the party later on was fairly messy, but I was honoured to have so many people there, from Fetch, the 100 club and from the 10 in 10. There were as many sore heads as there were sore legs the next day. Gaddafi missed a trick though, there were a few people heading to Blighty via Malta from Libya, all he needed to do was get hold of a marathon t-shirt, hobble off the plane and everyone would think he was just another beardy old bloke who runs marathons. The Libyan refugees were probably slightly taken aback by the juxtaposition of an SBS emergency extraction from the desert and a bunch of rather worse for wear runners mucking about like children. I've never had an announcement on board a flight before, so it was a pretty special surprise to hear the congratulations over the tannoy. It was even more of a surprise when the chap got very confused and also awarded me the win, poor Helen! 

It was a top weekend all round (ok, apart from the terrible weather on Saturday and some awful food). I'm so glad so many people were there to share it with me, and I'm so glad I didn't stuff it up by trashing myself beforehand, or getting knocked over by a bus, or DNFing, or missing my flight, or any of the other million things that could have gone wrong. Sunday wasn't just for me, it was for everyone who's helped me get to the end of 2,620 miles (and some ultra change): my family, the 100 club, the 10 in 10-ers, a huge number of Fetchies and Mark. (Blimey, this is turning into an emotional, over wrought Oscars speech) Anyway, you're all fabulous, and I couldn't have done it without you.

The London 50k - #99

There's a shortage of road marathons in the UK in winter and a surfeit of shorter traily ultras, largely along stretches of the canal ranging from 30 - 50 miles in length. Not having the chance for a whistle stop trip abroad for a race, the London 50k was billed as the lowest fat, shortest ultra on the calendar, plus, falling one week before Malta, provided massive incentive to finish. Unfortunately, after 15k of suburban streets and tarmac paths running through commons, we reached the first bit of mud through Wimbledon, not so bad but pretty greasy. After the wide open skies of Richmond Park, a nice bit of river and the Sunday evening historical-drama-worthy Syon Park which I'd never even heard of, Brent Canal was the beginning of the end. It got steadily grimmer through Ealing and Hanwell, what may have been Hangar Hill and other parts of London I've never heard of. The mud, too, was thicker, stickier and slippier, I fell over once, got covered in it and spent the next few hours looking like I'd been reclining on the side of a hill like those sunbathing lemurs in Madagascar. But in mud rather than on a sun-drenched rock.

At 37k, I entirely hit the wall. A run-walk thing worked for a bit until the big muddy hill presented itself, after that I just couldn't be bothered. It was cold but I walked the rest. Geordie Richard was very good company and offset my mood by being really very grumpy, especially when we missed the turn near the finish. Without him my mood would have been terrible. By the time we'd finished, we'd done a shade off 54k, had wet feet and were pretty cold. My hands were frozen solid and in no other circumstances would I have been glad to walk into the warm fug of the Quality Hotel (you know when a hotel's called Quality it's going to be anything but). My shoes went in the bin, they were too knackered to provide cushioning on the road and too roady to provide grip on the mud, it's a difficult call on this race. So it was pretty unpleasant, and slow, and left my right ankle very sore, but it did act as a sort of swansong for off-road long-distance races, I'll never do another one again.

So, it's all go for Malta on Sunday. Looking like there'll be at least 50 people in the bar which is fantastic, I'm very touched so many people are making the effort to be there. Just 4 days to not break my leg first.......

Wokingham half marathon - a 6 minute PB

Wokingham looked like a good opportunity for a PB but it's hard to estimate my pace these days. I thought I might shave a bit off the existing 1'44'44 but not enough to get excited about. However, my comfortably hard pace turned out to be 7'30s, very pleasing, given my 6 week old 10k pace is closer to 7'40s. 9 miles passed at this surprisingly speedy pace without any incident (apart from going through what would have been a fat 10k PB), my legs felt loose and fresh, and reasonably bouncy, and my breathing wasn't too hard. Miles 10-12 are back up the gentle decline from the start, and into an increasing headwind, I lost 10-20 seconds on each of these miles but that wasn't too much of a worry, plus mile 13 was back to 7'29. I didn't like the two sharp left hand turns to the finish at all (not a criticism of the route, it was generally excellent, and an all round first rate race) but finished reasonably strongly in 1'38'55.*

I was incredibly pleased about this, at no point have I ever contemplated getting anywhere near breaking 1'40 for a half, let alone running at 7'33 pace for the whole thing. It also predicts a 3'23 - 3'30 marathon time which is a huge confidence boost. My motivation to train and enjoyment of running had gone out of the window over December / January and, shallow as it is, a good result really helps me think it's worth putting the effort in. I clearly haven't reached my full potential yet. A nice base of almost 100 marathons, no injuries and rejuvenated enthusiasm should set the spring up to be a good few months.

Well done to all the other PBs and strong performances yesterday. There were loads of them. Thanks to the shout from Lully too. There was a great turn out in the pub later, I was proud to be wearing a Fetch vest (yes, just a vest, in the wind and rain, in February. I'm well 'ard.)

*This is my garmin time. Provisional chip time is 16 seconds quicker but I suspect they will be amended downwards, as it seems like provisional times started from the second mat on the way out. My garmin clocked 13.10 miles from the first mat, and most people report a 10-20 second discrepancy between their watch times and the chip times. If the finalised results give me a 1'38'39, then I'll be even happier, but I'm not counting on it.

Gloucester marathon, #98 (it was #49 last year)

And here's the report from #98, two weeks ago. Yesterday I ran a 1/2 marathon and rather enjoyed it, it was long enough to feel like a decent amount of exercise and to require a bit of strategy (ie. bombing off straight away) but not so long to bore you. Hmm, 100 halves next???


Gloucester was number 98 and I'm well on track for Malta. Luck has definitely been on my side, there have been a few people who've had to struggle through injuries to get to a planned 100th and I currently (touch wood) have no niggles at all. Just proves that it is possible to run 52 marathons in a year without damaging yourself more than the usual overtraining symptoms. 

The marathon was pretty uneventful, it was an easy paced race until the last few miles where my legs started running away with themselves for a speedy finish and a reasonable time of 4'06. The closer you get to the 100, the more tempting it is to look back over them, but you don't want to count your chickens too soon. Now it feels pretty certain that I'll get there. It's good to have an event I'm a little unsure of as my 99th (the London 50k) to add a bit of pressure and interest to it, and the desire to put in a decent race at Malta has picked up my enthusiasm a bit. My favourite maras have been the stronger ones so that's good enough incentive to do some proper training.

Anyway, looking back. In a way, doing the 100 so quickly with 34 in 2009 and 52 in 2010 has meant there have been a lot of races that I can barely remember. Most of those are LDWA style events. Now, I'm not slagging them off, they serve an excellent purpose for time on your feet, more challenging running, cheap entry fees, low key atmosphere yadda yadda yadda, I just don't like them and wish I hadn't done so many. They make my 100 feel slightly false, like I've cheated. More importantly, it would be nice for each marathon to stand out in some way and have its own character. It's hard to differentiate when you're averaging one a week. 


Wokingham 1/2 marathon next weekend to see if there's any speed at all in these legs, then the London 50k, then Malta. Very very happy to see so many people plan to be there.

100 Club AGM marathon - #97

Still catching up... The 100 Club AGM was a few weeks ago now, here's the report, written pretty soon after the event.


The 100 Club AGM is 5 laps of an outer loop and an inner loop, nice for breaking down the distance and making the time pass quickly. Unfortunately, it's been 4 weeks since my last marathon and a misplaced motivation has meant my longest run since was just short of 11 miles. And that was being dragged round by Mark. It was quite clear I was knackered after only 2 laps, so the third and fourth were a bit of a trial. However, having watched 127 Hours yesterday, it was pretty straightforward to maintain perspective. All I was doing was getting round 26 miles, not exactly being stuck under a rock for 4 days before cutting off my own arm, and then dealing with the dehydration, fever and shock to abseil out of the canyon and stumbling god knows how far to find help. Top film by the way, go see.

Anyway, I was knackered but at least the time didn't matter, 4 hours 32 was fine for #97. I can't wait for Malta, and I'm not sure I'll run another marathon again after the few I've got booked (the usual April suspects Brighton & London, and Stockholm in May as I've wanted to run it for ages). I haven't enjoyed running for a long time and am finding it next to impossible to train; on more than one occasion lately, I've got up, put my kit on, had a cup of tea, and gone back to bed. It's cold and dark and boring and just too much effort, but that's not really an excuse. The problem really is I don't have anything to work towards. Last year it was the 10 in 10 which is a proxy for your first marathon really, it's way more than you've ever done before, the training dominates your life and it feels like a huge achievement when you get there. Unfortunately, that sense of achievement is very shortlived for me, and I need a bigger and better fix. Hence loads of marathons, and hence, really, the 10 in 10. I loved the training, loved the side effects of it and loved pushing myself to my limits. But I can't go further than the 10 in 10 with a full time job and the desire to spend time with my friends, my boyfriend and my family, the 10 in 10 was almost too much and that was with such an undemanding job that I could piss about all day recovering. I actually have to apply myself now and it's quite tiring. 

So, there can't be another running challenge that's bigger than the 10 in 10, getting quicker isn't a challenge as I don't care about it enough (it'll never make me stand out as I'm firmly mid pack and always will be) and the 100th is fast approaching. I need something different. This time last year was similar - I knew I had to leave my job as I was bored rigid, not progressing, not learning, with no chance of a pay rise or bonus, but I didn't want to stay in finance. I spent months considering other options before I was headhunted (to another job in finance, but this time with a shed load of cash to invest and a better package, so yes, I continued to be a sell out) so the answer was given to me. I don't know what to do now. Get a bike. Start climbing. Join a boxing gym. Take up fencing. I'm starting with dynamic pilates, on those machines that look like a cross between a medieval torture rack and a kinky bit of kit in an S&M club, it's a good combination of strength and stretching, but it won't be enough of an adrenalin fix. Canyoneering, without the self-amputation perhaps?

How to run 52 marathons in one year

And here's a summary of 2010:

32 singles, 5 doubles, 1 x 10 in 10, one huge dent in my credit card

1 Zurich  2 Stansted Stagger  3 10 in 10 Club AGM :-| 4 Portland Coastal   5 Gloucester :-| 6 Marrakech   7 Seville    8 Malta  9 Grantham Day 1   10 Grantham Day 2 :-| 11 Rome   12 Easter Enigma  13 Connemara  14 Connemara  15 Brighton   16 London   17 10 in 10 Day 1  18 10 in 10 Day 2  19 10 in 10 Day 3  20 10 in 10 Day 4 :-| 21 10 in 10 Day 5  22 10 in 10 Day 6 :-| 23 10 in 10 Day 7  24 10 in 10 Day 8  25 10 in 10 Day 9  26 10 in 10 Day 10     27 Chester :-| 28 Dartmoor Discovery   29 Langport Day 1  30 Langport Day 2  31 Mauritius   32 Tanners    33 Fairlands Valley  34 Summer Enigma  35 Faversham  36 Isle of Man  37 Fleetwood  38 Kent Coastal   39 2 to go :-| 40 Nottingham  41 Grantham Day 1 :-| 42 Grantham Day 2  43 Great Langdale   44 Jersey  45 Leicester  46 Abingdon  47 Brentwood    48 Snowdonia  49 Porto  50 Cornish 51 La Rochelle  52 Calvia  

I've assigned smileys to each race to calculate a very unscientific measure. 1 point for each  , -1 point for each  , :-| is just a oh, you know sort of race,  for surprising races, usually good surprises,  for landmark races or placings, and the odd  or  for, well, they had to go in somewhere. Starting from 0, the total score is +16, which roughly means I enjoyed 16 of 'em. Don't look at it the other way round......

I won't be doing 52 in a year ever again, aside from the over training, over racing, tiredness, mental fatigue, time consuming admin and sheer jadedness with the whole thing, it's bloody expensive. Nice to have ticked the box, but I wouldn't recommend it.