It was time to test my theory. I have been saying, in a rather flippant way for a couple of years now that, “I could do a marathon tomorrow if I really wanted to”. So when an opportunity arose to sign up to a local marathon just 10 days before, I rather foolhardily put my name down.
Sure, I hadn’t actually trained for it. I’d only ever run more than 10 miles once or twice before. But how hard could it be? I was about to find out.
The weather was damp, the course was trails through the forest, and the other competitors looked far more prepared than me. However, I believed in myself so led out.
The course consisted of two laps (each of 13 miles). I felt ok (ish) as I started the second lap. This rapidly deteriorated as my legs seems to morph into concrete blocks. Other than that I was still reasonably confident at the 15 mile mark. By mile 18 my pace had dropped to that of a mildly sedated sloth. Shortly after mile 22 my legs went on strike. However, after some short but firm negotiations (and a handful of jelly babies) I managed to persuade them to get back to work. It was about here a fellow runner jogged past me, fresh as a daisy, smiling and exchanging pleasantries. That was rather disconcerting.
At mile 23, the final watering station, the marshal keenly told me that the guy in front was only about ‘a minute or two’ ahead (the same guy that glided past me earlier). My, perhaps a little too abrupt, response was that he may as well be 20 minutes ahead! There was zero chance of me catching anyone now.
The last 3 miles are a bit of a blur. I kind of knew I was getting close (this was the second lap) but after every corner there was another section I had forgotten about. Finally I was on the home run, alongside the river, I knew I was definitely only ½ a mile away now. I was determined to at least jog (not crawl) over the line and so I maintained some momentum, finding some reserves of energy I had hidden away.
As I crossed the line and stumbled towards the event tent I heard some very welcome words from a kind marshal. “Would you like a cup of tea love?”. I did not hesitate – “yes, milky with at least 3 or 4 sugars please…”. Blimey I needed that.
At least I didn’t have the kids jumping all over me when I got in the door and didn’t have to spend half the night sitting on the floor trying to settle a 2 year old. That would have been really bad for my fragile and fatigued body. Doh!
