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
You're an absolute trooper, Alan! Well done and thanks for sharing your experiences. I can't wait to see your 11th-marathon-finishing picture. You gonna use your toes?! ;)
ReplyDelete