Stanley Marathon 2015

With a week to go until the 2015 Stanley marathon, I was often catching myself wondering where on earth the last year had gone! It was as if I had blinked and lost a year since my first marathon here. The half marathon back in February was now history, and I was feeling good. Despite this, doubts and anxieties are a necessary feature of racing (in any sport I assume), and despite a consistent 6 months of high mileage training, there were plenty of these little demons making an appearance into my (sub)conscious. Have I done enough miles? Did I do enough marathon pace work? Did I taper correctly? Will I be fresh? Can I stand the pain of the inevitably ferocious pace that my nearest adversary would be setting from the gun? For all 26 miles? These questions swill round your head constantly prior to any race, especially a marathon. The last week of the taper is always the worst, as you try to keep as calm as possible, gently reassuring your nerves, as if they were a frightened animal, so as not to expend vital nervous energy on needless worry.

I had taken a slightly different approach to my taper this year - I ran more miles. My last 20+ mile run, which included a good number at my intended marathon pace, was a routine 3 weeks out. What wasn't routine was another high mileage volume week after this. The following Saturday (2 weeks out), I ran another 18 miles, including again a number of marathon pace miles. Week 2 of the taper again saw a drop in overall miles, but only by about 20%. It was the last week that I cut again – to about 50% of my normal weekly mileage. The Saturday and Sunday prior to marathon day, saw me run about 10 miles each, then I ran progressively less each day in the week leading up to the race.

Race day arrives…

That nervous animal I had been trying to coax through the week had got quite jittery on the Saturday afternoon before the race. Until then, I think I had done well to keep it happy. With the increasing numbers of well-wishers bumping into me in school, shops and on the streets, the pressure of expectation began to tell. I was the defending champion after all, and despite my comprehensive loss in the half, the pressure remained high. In the end I decided it was easier to stop going out, so after a quick 2 mile leg stretch at lunchtime, I decided to stay in and put my feet up in front of what turned out to be an enthralling series of 6 Nations rugby battles.

Race briefing - can you spot me?

Olivia competed in the 3km fun run and gained a very credible 4th junior female.

Sunday morning was relaxed(ish). The weather was not perfect, but a world away from the tempestuous conditions of last year. However, we would still be battling a fresh wind on the Stanley By-pass, it was wet and quite cold. I ate my now regular pre-race breakfast of dried fruit, seeds and coconut shavings, with a couple of cups of coffee, then sipped on water – the last thing I wanted to do was stop for a pee going up Sapper Hill! We headed down to registration for about an hour before the race – by this time it was physically impossible to squeeze anything more out of my bowels – apologies for the detail, but fellow racers will empathise.

The start of the race is always tense – a quick shake of hands and wish of good luck to fellow racers, followed by that stillness before the gun. This stillness was suddenly interrupted by the roar of the watching crowd, shouting for me. Being a local teacher and last year's winner had obviously made an impression. The support I received around the whole course was, I have to say, amazing – from start to finish. It was something I will take away with me forever.

Raedy, steady, go! (Photo unsurprisingly supplied by Standard Chartered, the main sponsors.)

All the pre-race anxieties are swept away on the sound of the gun. These are now replaced with the continual mental peaks and troughs of endurance racing. More questions also inevitably surface. Am I running too fast? Too slow? Do I need fluids? Calories? How far am I in front of the guy behind me? Is he (or she!) catching me up? Am I catching the guy in front? As I expected, Matt Blunden set off with a good, hard pace. He had done this in the half, and the combination of trying to stay with him early and the after-effects of a cold had blunted my challenge to him that day. This time around, my plan was to let him go and set the early pace, but try and keep him in sight. It was plain from the start that Matt was gunning for the course record, as he opened a lead of at least 2 minutes by mile 6. At the 10 km mark I checked my time – 35 minutes! I was feeling good still, but could I keep this up? 20 miles still to go…

Race face! (Penguin News)

10 miles in under 1 hour. I was still feeling good, and the PB was well and truly on! I had also noticed that I had started to make some ground on Matt ahead. We were on one of the hardest sections of the race now, as the wind, albeit less severe as last year, was keenly blowing into our faces. This section is also mostly uphill – not steep at all but continual for about 5 miles. Buoyed by my gains, I pressed on. Mile 13 is possibly the most challenging. The gradient increases and the wind really hits you. This was also a turnaround point of the race, so you can really judge how far away your competitors are. It was quite obvious now that I had made even more gains on Matt (and extended my lead on third place). The hammer needed to go down now.

Around one of the toughest points of the race - but I knew I was making ground.

The totem pole - near to 18 miles.

Mile pace was ferocious over the next 6 miles – at times as low as 5 minutes 30 – and quicker than I had trained for over this distance. I was still feeling ok, however, and at the 18 mile mark, I had closed on Matt even further. The last turnaround point for the race is between 19 and 20 miles, at Stanley airport. It was here the gap was down to 30 seconds. It was also now that I started to really believe I could pull a surprise off. Just one nagging doubt in my mind: would the effort to catch Matt hurt me in the late stages of the race? The 18 – 20 mile point of a marathon is quite pivotal. This is the point where marathons are won or lost and PBs are gained or missed. By mile 22 I was suddenly on Matt's shoulder. It was quite surreal really, as I had just spent the whole race trying to catch up to the RAF blue in front of me, but was now, so close to the end, in front. I purposely reigned in my pace, staying with Matt for a bit. I was worried my strength and pace was about to falter. Half a mile later, however, I decided to test out his legs. A quick spurt of effort and I could no longer hear him breathing behind me.

The last 3 miles was a mix of emotions: fear of still being caught by Matt, relief the end of the race was in sight, joy at knowing I was on for a huge PB, shock I actually leading the race and finally pain from the effort and pace I had just put in for the last 2 and half hours. It took me until about mile 25 to finally believe I was actually going win. Coming over the finish line, I was greeted by the familiar sight of Caz and the girls. Their support had been amazing all the way around.

So close now...

Passing Matt almost outside my front door!

Phew... (Photo by Penguin News)

Yes. That hurt.  (Photo by penguin news)

I could not have asked for more: a new PB (2.35.39), having smashed the old course record, which had stood since 2010, by over 7 minutes and first place. Matt came in just over 2 minutes later, beating the old course record himself by 5 minutes. All I had to do now was face the obligatory FI TV and FI radio interviews, before going for a gentle run down of a mile or so. To be honest, I was still in shock. I needed a cup of tea.

Another big trophy and cheque.