New Forest Marathon

I think I’m discovering there’s a big difference between running one marathon a month and two a month.  I guess that shouldn’t really come as a big surprise.  I have affectively just run 3 marathons in 4 weeks, with the Pathfinder being the first of the three on Monday 29 August, and New Forest the third on Sunday 25 September.

I was really looking forward to the New Forest Marathon.  It promised to be a scenic marathon that was almost entirely on tarmac and without too many hills.  I arrived at the start on Sunday morning almost too early.  The previous night I had stayed at my mum’s house in Winchester, which isn’t too far away, but I still managed to completely over estimate how long it would take for me to get to the start in New Milton.  I had one and a half hours to kill from the moment I’d parked the car until the start of the race.  I was told that the car park was only a short walk from the start, so I left everything I needed in the car and walked in to New Milton to see if I could get a cup of tea.  It turned out it was just short of a mile to the start, so by the time I’d walked from the car park into New Milton for a cup of tea and back, then back to the start with all my race gear I’d practically walked 3 miles.  That’s a day out for some people!

Whilst waiting at the start I spotted two runners I’d met at previous events.  One was Ian who I ran with for the entire duration of the Pathfinder Marathon.  We had a quick chat before he had to dash off to get himself ready.  I then spotted a chap I’d met at the Isle of Wight Ultra Marathon the previous year.  The two of us chatted until the race got underway, he made it clear he didn’t want to go at my pace, so I left him behind and weaved in and out of slower runners over the first mile.  I then soon found myself alongside Ian.  We were both aiming to finish in about 3 hours 30 minutes so I decided to stick with him for a while.

We soon found ourselves overtaking slower half marathon runners, who had set off 30 minutes before us, this continued all the way to the 9 mile point, which was where the two courses diverged.  For some reason overtaking slower runners who are running a shorter distance does give you a confidence boost.  Or at least it does for me.  It was at about this point that Ian and I caught up with one of Ian’s club mates, Marc, who was aiming for 3 hours 15 minutes.  I’m not sure if Ian then made a conscious decision to pace his mate, but I noticed that our pace lifted.  I didn’t want to burn out or risk injuring myself so I dropped off and let the two of them get on with it. 

I tried my best to enjoy the scenery as much as I could.  The marathon course either went along tree lined avenues or over vast areas of open heathland.  It was also mostly on tarmac except for a couple of sections that went off-road on gravel tracks through the forest.  Although picturesque in places, it’s not the most varied of landscapes.  I think I, perhaps, had overly high expectations for it being a wonderful scenic run.  Don’t get me wrong, it was all very nice, and I’d much rather run it again as opposed to, say, Gloucester or the Bedford Clanger, there just wasn’t much variety to the scenery.  I think that this contributed to making it feel like quite a tough event.  The run was also hillier than I’d expected, with a total elevation gain of 236m, making it hillier than the Robin Hood Marathon.

To say I had to dig deep to get the job done on this one would have been an understatement.  From about 14 miles my legs started to ache and seemed to be screaming at me to stop.  I tried to be very mindful of the fact that I owe my livelihood to my legs and that I couldn’t really afford a serious injury.  This meant that I tried to focus on the type of pain I was feeling whilst also trying to keep my pace nice and steady.  If I thought I was heading towards muscle cramp or a tear I would have slowed down.  Fortunately, it just continued to feel like general fatigue, so I pushed through the pain and did my best to ignore it, whilst still paying attention to it, if that makes sense. 

Miles 14 to 18 felt especially tough and my pace did drop off over these hard four miles.  I realised that whilst I had come accustomed to running one marathon a month my body was now telling me that I hadn’t yet reached the point where I could comfortably run one marathon every two weeks.  I wondered how I’d feel when it comes to running the Loch Ness Marathon in a week’s time.  Given that I was trying to really focus on how I was feeling whilst also maintaining a decent pace probably didn’t help me to really enjoy my surroundings.  The fact is that over the last 10 miles I might as well have been running anywhere. 


One thing that helped me over the latter part of the course was catching up with Ian again.  Whilst I was in pain I wasn’t struggling as much as Marc.  Ian was clearly now trying to pace him to a 3 hour 30 minute finish.  I stayed with them for a short while, but by the time I’d reached mile 20 I could smell the finish and I almost started to feel refreshed.  I resolved to try and lift my pace again and I slowly pulled away from Ian and Marc.  I then continued to overtake people all the way to the finish.  At the 23 mile mark the course hit a sudden steep hill, which seemed particularly cruel.  Some kind soul had placed had painted motivational signs besides the road at this point to try and encourage runners along, which included favourite runners’ mottos such as “pain is temporary, pride lasts forever”, and signs that said “today YOU are a HERO – yes you”.  Despite these encouraging words I was reduced to a walk on the hill, until I spotted a photographer pointing his camera at me, at which point I decided that I had to run for the photo that I won’t buy anyway.  I still can’t figure out the logic in that one.  Just goes to prove that sometimes words aren’t as powerful as the thought of someone somewhere having photographic evidence of me walking in a marathon.  Once I was beyond the photographer I continued to run to the top of the hill and then managed to keep running all the way to the finish.

The last couple of miles to the finish were on narrow country roads enclosed by high hedgerows.  To me it felt rather claustrophobic, which was heightened by my desire to just get to the finish line.  Every couple of hundred yards or so stood a marshal in a fluorescent vest.  They’d suddenly appear in the distance as I rounded every minor bend in the road and they seemed to act as beacons for me to aim for, acting as the next target for me to reach on my run to the finish.  I wonder if they had any idea how useful they were.  I thought of them as my little yellow angels.

All of a sudden I turned a corner to find myself back in New Milton.  The last 400m were lined by spectators cheering on the runners.  Several spotted my name on my running vest and gave me a shout out.  It’s definitely better to hear people shouting out your name, rather than “come on 1067”.  I crossed the line in a time of 3 hours 27 minutes 20 seconds.  I waited for Ian and Marc to finish, who both crossed the line together just 3 minutes behind me in a time of 3 hours 30 minutes and 18 seconds.  We had a brief chat and then went our separate ways in the belief we will one day meet again at some other running event, quite possibly later this year.

I walked the mile back to my car, getting something to eat on the way.  I then experienced the one big drawback of the New Forest Marathon – the traffic getting away from the event.  First we had to share the roads with runners who still hadn’t finished.  Marshals were only allowing cars on to the roads in small numbers, which was all fair enough.  Soon after this I hit a massive traffic jam on the approach to Lyndhurst.  In order to get back on to the motorway network all traffic has to go through this very small town.  It seemed to take an age to slowly crawl through the town.  I thought my left leg was going to cramp every time I had to use the clutch.  Maybe I should invest in an automatic for post marathon drives!  At least after Loch Ness next week I won’t be going anyway immediately after the run, as we won’t be flying home until the Monday morning.  I just have to hope by legs can now cope with another marathon after just one week.

Ticking Over As Usual

There’s been a flurry of activity amongst a small group of my running friends and Sweaty Betty runners this week.  A considerable number (9 at the last count) have enrolled for Paris marathon, which takes place next April.  For many it will be there first marathon, and at the moment they seem to be excited about the prospect of taking on the marathon.  I have also enrolled and I too am excited about the prospect of a weekend trip to Paris to run the marathon with a group of friends.  However, for me, there is the small matter of running the remaining 7 marathons this year, which is a daunting task.  I’m not quite sure now why I decided to up my challenge.

I’ll be running my next marathon next Sunday.  Given that the last one was just last week, it has been a case of just keeping ticking over this week.  Most of my runs have been done either with clients or with the Betties on Wednesday.  I went for a steady 8 mile run yesterday, on what was a lovely autumnal Saturday morning.  I headed down to the Cam and out towards Waterbeach.  When I turned round I discovered I’d been running with a strong tail wind on my back – I hate it when that happens!  As I was heading back I passed a small group of friends out on a 22 mile training run in preparation for the Amsterdam Marathon on 16 October.  I’ll also be running a marathon in Lincoln on the same day, but I also have another two to do before then.

Today was the day of the Cambridge Chariots of Fire Relay race.  As I had a number of friends taking part I ran into town to give them some support.  The relay race is a 1.7 mile lap around central Cambridge for teams of 6 people.  It was won by the same team as last year from the Glassworks Gym, with my mate Guilio’s team in second place once again.  As a running event it is really good fun and most teams are made up of groups of work teams, many of whom would not normally call themselves a runner.  It was good to see so many people given it a go and having fun at the same time.  Once I’d seen all of my friends complete their laps I headed off on a six mile run back to home, meaning I’d run a total of 9.5 miles today.

I just need to keep on ticking over for the remainder of the week and look forward to the New Forest Marathon next Sunday.

Robin Hood Marathon - Race Report

I learnt an important lesson about technology and planning on Sunday.  Fortunately, neither came to my undoing, but it was a close call.  First of all I discovered just how reliant I have become on my Garmin GPS watch.  We were staying at Ruth’s parents the night before the marathon and I only took my Garmin with me.  I charged it up over night, but when I unclipped it from the charger in the morning it completely froze.  It still showed the time, but it wasn’t advancing.  Pressing all of the buttons in every combination imaginable had no affect.  It was just stuck on 8:18^:21.  Ruth tried to persuade me that it would be a good test to run without a stopwatch, but I wasn’t convinced.  I’m terrible for starting too fast when I do have a stopwatch, without one I was convinced I’d run the first half too quickly and be knackered way before reaching the finish.  I kept it with me to the last minute and periodically pressed buttons to see if I could reset it.  By some fluke it suddenly went through a reset phase under its own accord just as I was about to hand it over to Ruth and say goodbye.  I’d have my trusty companion with my after all.  However, I made a mental note to always take a back-up stopwatch with me in future.

I then had another panic attack as I was waiting in my starting zone just 18 minutes before the marathon was due to start.  I suddenly realised I didn’t have my timing chip attached to my ankle.  No chip would mean no time and, therefore, no official result.  At this point crowds of runners were entering the starting zones and a bigger crowd of spectators were lining the sides of the street.  I had to fight my way through an oncoming tide of runners and supporters in order to get to the car and back in 18 minutes, which was parked at least a half mile away.  I was also relying on Ruth going straight back to the car after saying goodbye to me and still being there.  She had talked about going off for a coffee, and I had no idea where she’d go for that.  I sprinted back to the car, which was not the warm-up I wanted, and, fortunately, found Ruth in the car park just a few meters away from our car.  I got the car key off her, found my timing chip, attached it and jogged back to the start.  I found myself jogging with quite a few late arrivals, which made me feel better.  I fought my way through the crowd and got back to my zone with about 3 minutes to spare and an elevated heart rate.  I’m sure I’d forgotten to attach my timing chip due to being so pre-occupied with my non-functioning Garmin.  Anyway, alls well that ends well.  I was in the right starting zone ready to tackle the Robin Hood Marathon for the third time.

I had previously run the Nottingham marathon in 2007 and 2008.  In 2007 it was the third marathon I’d ever run.  In 2008 I entered in order to pace a friend on what was her first ever marathon.  I distinctly remember saying at that time that I’d never run it again.  The reason for this is that the first half is reasonably hilly and very crowded, with approximately 9,000 half-marathon runners and just 1,000 marathoners.  At the half-way point many runners start to speed up towards what is their finish, whilst us marathon runners just need to get our heads down, stick to the target pace and focus on the other half that is to come.  The second half of the marathon is then pancake flat and with very few spectators to cheer you on.  For some reason, going from a busy run in the first 13 miles to a quiet and lonely second half seems to make the race seem longer.  The other reason I’d also previously said I wouldn’t do this race again is that the last 5 miles are alongside the River Trent and it always seems that you have to run into a headwind when you are at your most fatigued.  It has always seemed a brutal finish, and Sunday was no exception.  If anything it was worse than previous years as we had to do battle with elevated winds that were ahead of Hurricane Katia.

However, despite all my moaning, I was looking forward to running the Robin Hood Marathon once more.  My previous three marathons this year have all been off-road affairs.  They’ve also been getting progressively smaller in size: 600 at the South Downs, 200 at Fairland’s Valley and approximately 50 at the last marathon.  It made a nice change to be taking part in a road marathon with a very large field once again, were there was no need to read race directions and no need to carry your own sports drink and gels.  It was also nice to be back on familiar ground and to know exactly what was coming up. 

I found that the first 10 miles seemed to fly by.  There are a few interesting and picturesque sights to take in over this part of the course: Nottingham Castle, the grounds of Nottingham University with its boating lake and leafy Wollaton Park.  At about the 5 mile point I spotted another runner that I’ve seen at a couple of other events this year and had a chat with him for a few miles, but I was mostly running by myself.  It does seem perverse that the bigger the running event the less people you chat to as you run around the course.  Miles 10 to 13 seemed particularly long.  It could be that I was anticipating the point at which the field would suddenly diminish leaving the ‘few’ to get on with the task of tackling the marathon by ourselves.  Certainly mile 12 to 13 seemed especially long.  But at the point where the two races divide and the half-marathoners headed off to their finish, whilst the rest of us started out on the second half of our race, I did have a sense of pride.  It gives me a great sense of satisfaction that I am able to run marathons and that here I was running in my ninth of the year so far.  But I wasn’t about to get complacent, it was time to focus on the next 13 miles.

Once past the half way point the marathon course heads east on pancake flat roads, following the River Trent a short way to the cross the river via the Lady Bay Bridge and then through a residential estate for about a mile.  Once the houses are behind you there is then a 3 mile run along an almost deserted road to the 18.5 mile point, where the marathon course turns back on itself.  The road is closed to traffic well before the marathon reaches this part of Nottingham; as a result it is eerily quiet with very few spectators.  Thankfully, Ruth had borrowed her mum’s bike and cycled out to the 16.5 mile point to wave me on.

The long, lonely road.

For about a mile before reaching the turn around point you get to see the lead runners coming the other way.  The two streams of runners are simply separated by a row of traffic cones.  A runner I was running alongside at the time turned to me and said “it’s tempting to just nip across, isn’t it?” To be perfectly honest, the thought never crossed my mind, but I had also assumed that there would be some sort of control point at the turn around point.  There wasn’t, just a single marshal to cheer us on our way.  However, soon after I’d turned around I realised I was overtaking runners that I’d already overtaken several miles back. There was no way that they had passed me again, so I can only assume that for some weary runners the temptation to cut a mile or two off the course was too great.  I only hope that they felt justified in still collecting their finisher’s medal, because I wouldn’t have.

At about the mile 20 point the course turns into the National Water Sports Centre to run around the rowing lake.  Once you round the top end of the lake there is about a 5 mile stretch along side the lake and then the River Trent directly into the full might of the wind, with nothing to provide cover.  A junior 4 man kayak race was taking place, which helped act as a little distraction from the run.  I tried to see if I could keep alongside the kayaks, but failed miserably.  I saw Ruth once again as I left the rowing lake behind me to then run alongside the Trent back to the finish.  There were only 4 miles left to go, but my legs were feeling shattered by this stage.  I took great comfort in the fact that I was overtaking many runners who were clearly struggling more than I was.  Ruth later told me that she hadn’t seen me looking like I was in so much pain in the latter stages of a marathon before.  I’m glad she kept this piece of information until after I’d finished.

Despite the bravado, I was in a world of pain at this point.

It was with great relief that I reached the 25 mile marker and knew that I’d soon be crossing the Trent and heading back on myself to have the wind behind me for a change, even if it was for less than a mile.  The crowds were immense over the last half mile, and many people started calling out my name to cheer me on, which did help spur me on to the finish.  It does help to have your name on your running vest.  I crossed the line in a time of 3 hours and 16 minutes dead.  I was very happy with my time.  It was my second fastest time of the year, but I wondered if I’d end up paying the price the next day, as I’d be starting the day by doing a 5k run with a client.  Perhaps it would have been sensible to have gone a little slower.

I met Ruth shortly after I’d collected my medal and we headed back to the car, almost forgetting to take the customary finisher’s photo, which we only remembered to take once we got to the car.

That's marathon number 9, and now 7 to go (possibly?)

As I am writing this on Tuesday morning, I can report that all was well yesterday.  My legs felt fine on my 5k run with my client, and they held up to the rigours of teaching 3 kettlebell classes.  This morning there is the merest hint of what I got up to at the weekend.  They’re not quite feeling 100%, but if I had to go for a long run I’m sure they’d do just fine.  I dare say that all of my kettlebell beginners from yesterday’s classes are feeling a lot worse.

Post Marathon R&R On The Wight Isle.

The day after the Pathfinder Marathon Ruth and I packed up our tent and headed off to the Isle of Wight for a few days R&R.  We pitched our tent on a lovely campsite on the East side of the island and then headed off for a little walk along Sandown Esplanade and along the coast, just to blow away the cobwebs following the long drive.

The next day the weather looked like it was going to be overcast, so we decided to have a relaxing day by just taking in a few sights, rather than going for a long walk.  So we headed off to Osbourne House, the former summer home of Queen Victoria, and then on to Carisbrooke Castle. 

We both felt slightly out of place at both attractions.  At Osborne House we were way below the average age, as most visitors seemed to be OAPs on coach tours. 

At Carisbrooke we seemed to be just about the only couple amongst large groups of families with young kids.  I was also slightly saddened by the sight of obese parents with young children.  I know everyone has the right to live their lives as they choose, but it became apparent that a child that is brought up by two obese parents has their childhood restricted.  I witnessed a few children who were eager to go off and explore the grounds of the castle, and to climb the steep stairs up to the ramparts, but who were always called back by their overweight parents because they didn't have the energy or couldn't be bothered to go with them.  The worse thing was hearing their excuses and lies, "don't go down there, Johnny, there's nothing to see down there", or "you don't want to go up those stairs, they don't go anywhere".

The following day we woke to glorious sunny weather.  My legs were finally feeling over their marathon fatigue, as expected, so we headed off to do a days walk.  We drove pretty much to the opposite side of the island and parked at Yarmouth.  We then walked alongside the River Yar to Freshwater, where we stopped for a morning tea and cake.  From Freshwater we headed up to Tennyson Down walking due West towards the needles.  Last June I ran in the inaugural Isle of Wight ultra marathon, running 70 miles of coastal path over two days, and the Tennyson Down section is what I remembered as being the most scenic.  It was just as picturesque as I'd remembered, except this time I was ambling along at a leisurely pace and had more time to take in the views.

Once we'd reached the Needles we followed the north coastline around to Alum Bay, which has a hideous theme park going on, and is overrun with tourists.  We passed through quickly to get to the short steep climb up to the top of Headon Warren, which was covered in heather and wild flowers, and which has great views of the coast, if you can ignore the sight of the car park at Alum Bay.

Ruth overlooking Alum Bay, before reaching the hideous car park

Chairlift down to Alum Bay infront of The Needles

Ruth on Headon Warren

We then headed down to sea level and mostly followed the coast all the way back to Yarmouth.  Yarmouth itself is a lovely little fishing port crammed with interesting looking pubs and restaurants.  We felt we really should stay for our dinner, so we found a nice seafood restaurant were we shared a massive platter of crab, mussels, prawns, crayfish tails, scallops and mackerel.  It was all lip smackingly delicious.

The next day we headed off for another walk along the south coast of the island.  When I did the ultra marathon there was one section where I went hideously wrong and ended up running an extra 3 miles on top of what should have been a 38 mile day.  I'm considering running the event again in 2012, and I mentioned to Ruth that I'd quite like to go for a reconnaissance walk along the section of coast where I'd gone wrong.  Ruth wasn't against the idea, so off we went.  It was another great walk, but not as long as the previous day's.  We ended up in Ventnor and spent some time walking along the seafront and exploring the town. 

As we walked through town we spotted an interesting looking Spanish Tapas bar called El Toro Contento.  We popped in and instantly loved the feel and smell of the place.  It really felt as if we had walked into an authentic tapas bar.  We booked ourselves a table for that evening then got a bus back to where we'd left the car, killed some time and then returned to Ventnor.  The tapas bar was a great find.  It's run by an English woman and her Spanish husband, with their two teenage children helping out.  It has to be the best tapas bar outside of Spain.

Sadly, that was the end of our brief holiday.  The next morning we packed up the tent and got the car ferry back to the mainland and drove back to Cambridge.  Last Sunday was then spent doing chores to get ready to start back at work, mainly a mountain of emailing.  In the afternoon I got out for a 10 mile run, my first run following the marathon six days before.  Since then I've only been out for a run on Tuesday and Wednesday.  However, my next marathon is this coming Sunday.

Since running the Pathfinder marathon I have decided to up the challenge for the rest of the year.  So far I've completed eight marathons in eight months.  My aim now is to run another eight marathons over the next four months.  In September I plan to run Robin Hood Marathon this Sunday, followed by the New Forest Marathon two weeks later.  This will then be followed the week later by the Loch Ness Marathon on the first Sunday of October and the Lincoln Spires and Steeples Marathon two weeks after that.  My plans for November and December have not yet been set, but there are enough marathons out there for me to step up to my new challenge.

Why have I decided to increase the challenge?  Partly out of curiosity.  I seemed to have adapted to running one marathon a month and I would like to see if I can now adapt to running two a month.  It's also because I would like to continue to raise money for SOS Children's Villages.  As the year has progressed the fund raising has tapered off, which was to be expected.  However, I know there are many people out there who keep saying they will sponsor me but haven't done so yet.  Hopefully, this will shock them into action.  Basically, I want your money!