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.