2 to go & Nottingham marathon double

So that was a rather crazy weekend, I'm exhausted in many various ways. The Two to go marathon on Saturday felt like a formality, just one to be ticked off before the main events started. I enjoyed it last year but found it a bit dull this time round, although things were livened up by the entire field going the wrong way at one point. Some poor sods ran an extra 3 miles, I was lucky and clocked an mere 1/2 km extra. I find it really hard to run 26 miles without stopping now so had a few walk breaks from 30k. Got round in 4'06 with no dramas and no nose bleeds. It was a shame the finish left a bit of a bad taste (rip off food & drink, cheapest bit of pressed tin medal, shower block knocked down etc) but relaxing in the sunshine for an hour with lots of familiar faces was most pleasant.

Then it was off to Nottingham to meet up with Team Sparta, a ragtag army of half and full runners, all of whom were slightly hungover and not very well prepared to run anywhere but more than happy to look rather foolish for everyone else's entertainment.

L-R: me, Frances, Paula, Mark & Clair

The aim was to run with Mark for a sub 4 but right from the start I knew that wasn't going to happen, my legs were totally empty and I felt completely wiped out. I'd had a blood test earlier in the week that had revealed that my creatine kinase levels were about 800% higher than normal, ie. I'm running on massive muscle damage and that's why my times have slipped, my recovery is taking longer and why my legs just blinking hurt all the time. My 100th at Malta has taken on a life of its own however, and there are already about 25 people lined up with flights and hotels booked so I have to get there. It just means I won't be pushing hard through any marathons any time soon.

So I kept up with Mark for just over 10 miles, the attention he was getting was fantastic and I was killing myself laughing for most of those 90 minutes. He'd be running along with his shield and huge sword, then suddenly pounce at a small unwitting child who would leap out of his skin. He was getting such a good reaction from the crowd I kept forgetting I was a Spartan too. It would have been nice to have made more effort to join in but I was concentrating more on finishing and wanted to keep my head down and be a bit insular during the run.

What I wasn't forgetting about the outfit was how hot it was and how it was starting to chafe like crazy, mainly the seams inside the bodice and the edging on the skirt. The flappy epaulette things were constantly jumping about in the periphery of my vision too.

Mark let me fall behind after 10 miles, I was struggling and he looked really fresh (and went on to run a massive negative split, very proud of him overtaking half the field and really annoying them, imagine a bearded, semi naked, helmeted bloke barrelling past you, brandishing a 4 foot sword, cloak billowing in the wind and shouting RARRRRGGGGHHHH at 22 miles. Demoralising for you. Very funny for us.) and I ditched the costume on Stella at half way. Sorry Stella. Then again, how often can you cycle up alongside a girl, say hello to get the reply "do you mind if I undress and give you my clothes?" Feeling much lighter and unhampered, if rather self conscious, the second half was more of a no frills marathon - no watch, far fewer runners, fewer spectators, no hills, just 13 miles to cover. I liked the purity of it.

This marathon was so enjoyable, in two entirely different ways: the first half really really funny watching Chiefy play to the crowds and the second focusing on running at its most concentrated. Nottingham gets a million extra points for handing out water and lucozade in small 200 or 250ml bottles, at very regular intervals, perfect for a few sips and meaning you don't need any gels. I ran with a first time marathoner between 16 and 22 when he dropped me. You can never forget to be humble when you're still running at 22 miles and you get dropped by a marathon virgin. As last year, I loved running round the lake and, while I still felt very tired and sore legged, had enough energy to keep running to the finish. It was reassuring to know that 13 straight miles to round off a double is still possible.

My pacing over this double is bizarrely like clockwork, last year, I ran 3'51 and 3'49, this year I ran 4'06 and 4'05. What was best was the turnout, Chris, Jim and Dave from the 10 in 10, loads of Fetchies and 100 clubbers, and the man of the match, David Bayley, running his 100th marathon. One of the best post-marathon pub afternoons ever (in spite of the terrible service) and a hilarious train ride home with the Spartans. A top weekend all round.

Weary and worse for wear Spartans in civvies and Percy Pigs

Kent Coastal marathon

The Kent Coastal is a lovely marathon, well organised by Thanet Roadrunners with loads of marshals and water stations, nicely pretty along the sea front, a few bumps to break it up and a bargain price. This is the third year in a row I'd done this race so there was a tiny incentive to beat my last two times here of 3'57 and 3'51, a rather challenging task given my shonky pace lately. However, I set off at a pace that felt a little stretchy but sustainable that turned out to be about 8'30s. That worked great until 16 miles.

Then I got a huge nosebleed, no idea where it came from, it's never happened in any of my races before. Apologies to the squeamish, but it was bleeding so much that it was down my race number, splashed onto my legs and all up my right arm, even on my shoulder and over my hands within seconds. Two very kind ladies from the cafe on the seawall rushed over with tissues and water to mop me up, and prop me up because by this time it was only the railing that was keeping me upright, it had all gone rather dark and spinny. After a fair bit of dabbing, I set off again as my legs were fine, if a bit splattered, but it wouldn't blinkin' stop. What was worse, it seemed to be correlated to my pace, the faster I ran the faster it ran. I tried to wash it off but gave up after a bit, it's not a beauty contest after all and it was just being replaced by fresh stuff. I was also feeling very very spacey and dizzy so had to have a few walk breaks from 20 miles, just to get the damn thing to dry up a bit and to give my head a break, I had a splitting headache by this time too.

It was a bit annoying because I'd been on for 3'50 to 16 miles but all the faffing about and feeling like I was about to pass out lost that. Oh well, there are other races and it's nice to know I do still have a bit of speed in the old legs. What did surprise me was when I spotted Warren just ahead of me about 100 yards from the finish and yelled "Warren, don't let me pass you on the line!" That's what I was trying to say, but it came out like a stroke victim - "Wozdohnlehpass'nline", I couldn't articulate at all. So it was perhaps less surprising when I came over the finish line and hit the deck. Some very nice marshals looked after me, indeed, today's highlight was Derek the medic dabbing the blood away from my face with a wetwipe, he was as gentle and caring as a grandfather looking after a small grandchild.

4'08 wasn't too bad I suppose in the circumstances, and suggests that 2 x sub 4s in the 2 to Go and Robin Hood double next weekend may just be within reach with a bit of HTFUing. Even as a Spartan.