Portsmouth Coastal Marathon

Hurrah!  2011 is almost at an end and I’m feeling greatly relieved to have reached the end injury free with my marathon challenge behind me.  As has already been pointed out, it is a good job that I can run better than I can count.  I have completed 16 marathons in one year after originally intending to do just one a month.  My average time for all 16 was just under 3 hours 30 minutes, ranging from 3 hours 3 minutes in London to 4 hours 14 minutes for the Shillington Shuffle.  I ran 6 pure road marathons, 5 trail marathons and 5 marathons that were a mix of road and trail, and 5 of the marathons required a degree of self-navigation.  So, my choice of marathons was reasonably diverse, which certainly helped to keep the challenge interesting throughout the year.  I’m not sure it would have been as enjoyable if they’d all been large scale road marathons like London.

My last marathon of the year took place from Portsmouth on Sunday 18 December.  I saw a few familiar faces.  First off was the legend who is Steve Edwards, who makes my marathon exploits seem feeble.  He has already become the youngest person to run 500 marathons (I was told this by another runner, and it’s not a fact that I have checked with the man himself).  He is now on a mission to run 500 consecutive marathons in less then 3 hours 30 minutes (this is true).  Talking to him on Sunday I got the impression he was slightly disappointed at only running 25 marathons in 2011 with an average time of 3 hours 10 minutes.  There were a couple of people who I’d seen at Broad Meadow the previous week, one who is closing in on his 100^th marathon one who already has 411 marathons under his belt.  I also met up with Ian Berry once again, who I ran with on the Pathfinder marathon and in the New Forest, along with his girlfriend Sandra, who ran with their pet husky (who was the only runner to complete the marathon and not be given a medal).  I also chatted briefly with a runner I met at the Bedford Clanger and Shillington Shuffle (unfortunately, I’ve forgotten his name). 

A few runners warm-up at the start of the Portsmouth Coastal Marathon

In total some 640 runners took part on Sunday, quite a large field for a December marathon.  However, it was clear why the marathon had such a large turn-out.  The organisation was immaculate and the route was very simple but at the same time sufficiently varied and scenic to make it an enjoyable event.  From Portsmouth Promenade we headed east all the way to the south-west tip of Hayling Island, which is connected to the main land by a bridge.  We then followed the same course all the way back to the start/finish. 

Hitting the beach at mile 2

At the 2 mile point we found ourselves leaving tarmac to run on the first stretch of beach.  We ran around the top edge of a bay that would be under water at high tide.  I was informed that slower runners got very wet feet at this point last year.  The marathon has an unenforced cut-off point at the half-way mark.  If you don’t make it to half-way before the cut-off you can guarantee getting wet feet on your homeward run.  Shortly after this I almost lost my cool with the only idiot runner I’ve met all year.  We were running along a narrow footpath with a fence to a caravan park on one side and a narrow concrete sea wall on the other side.  There was clearly no option but to tuck in behind the runner ahead of you and not even consider any overtaking moves.  However, someone behind me had other ideas.  He got so close to me that he caught my heels twice, and I could feel his breath on my neck.  I was about to turn round and tell him to back-off when he literally pushed past me and tucked in between me and the runner ahead.  I thought he was about to clip the heels of the next runner, but instead he jumped up on to the sea wall, which was about 6 inches wide, and sprinted past the six or so runners ahead of me.  I could tell by his body shape that there was no way he was going to beat me to the finish, and I wondered to myself why anyone would risk falling off a reasonably high sea wall on to shingle at the 4 mile point of a marathon.  Sure enough, once we reached the end of the footpath and were running on a reasonably wide section of tarmac, I found myself passing the sea wall sprinter within a mile of his passing me, and then never saw him again.  He also made himself fairly distinctive by wearing a Santa hat.

One small section of the route was alongside a very busy road, but for the most part we stayed very close to the coast running on a mixture of tarmac, gravel and mud paths, which were frozen on the way out but completely churned up and slippery on the way back.  There was one other beach section to contend with, this one with very loose shingle underfoot, which is energy sapping to run on.  Fortunately, it was no longer than, maybe, 100m.

At the halfway point I was just ahead of Ian, Sandra and their dog.  Sandra and I kept passing each other over the next few miles.  Typically Sandra would be ahead of me and I’d catch her at each water station, whilst she made sure her husky had enough to drink.  Ian must have been just behind me the whole way.  With 8 miles to go the wind seemed to pick up.  With 6 miles to go I started to feel drained of energy and found it very hard to maintain a decent pace.  With 4 miles to go I was caught by both Ian and Sandra.  I decided to try and keep with them to the finish.  I then realised that Sandra had mud on her T-shirt and was running with a limp.  When I asked what had happened she told me she had managed to sprain her ankle with 9 miles to go, but was determined to carry on.  I was really struggling at this point but I thought that if she could run with a sprained ankle I should be able to keep up with her.  I was also sure that if I was in as much pain as she was I’d have given up entirely, or at least decided to just walk to the finish.  I was also amazed that Ian hadn’t tried to convince her to stop.

Whilst running with Ian and Sandra my right hamstring started to cramp, sending sharp pains down my leg.  I felt forced to slow to a walk, leaving the other two to go ahead.  Watching Sandra limping off on a sprained ankle whilst I walked to nurse my hamstring made me feel like a complete wimp.  I managed to start running again, but if I tried to push hard off my right leg my hamstring would complain.  So I had to run with an almost entirely straight right leg for the last 4 miles.  This meant that I was passed by several runners, a situation that is the reverse of what I’m used to in the closing stages of a marathon.  At that point, I have to say, I wasn’t enjoying my marathon experience.  I felt as if I was attempting one marathon too many, or that’s what my brain seemed to be telling me.  I even questioned why I’d want to run 26.2 miles at all.  I then thought about Sandra limping some distance ahead of me and told myself not to be such a wimp and to just get on with it.  Even with a hamstring in spasm I was able to complete each mile in about 8 minutes 30 seconds, or thereabouts, and I reasoned that many of my clients would be happy with that.  I was glad to reach the section of beach again and to then find myself back on Portsmouth Promenade with just 2 miles to go.  I could see the pier in the distance and knew the finish line was just beyond it.  For what seemed like ages the pier never seemed to get any closer.  I probably had to walk about three times over the last 2 miles.  I couldn’t quite believe this was happening to me.  I don’t think that I’ve ever felt so relieved to reach the finish line of a marathon.  I was also amazed that I had some how managed to do it in just under 3 hours 20 minutes.

Thumbs up for the 16th and final marathon of the year

Of course, a few minutes after finishing, once I’d collected my medal and event T-shirt (only the second technical running T-shirt of the year – the other being from Loch Ness), any pain in my leg seemed to have completely subsided.  I chatted with a few other runners, all of whom said they found it tough, despite being completely flat.  Even Steve Edwards admitted to finding it quite hard, due to all the different conditions underfoot.  I then sat and chatted with another runner on the promenade, sheltered from the wind whilst eating our complimentary soup, bread roll and mince pie.  We watched many other runners on the last few hundred metres of the marathon and cheered them home along with a handful of supporters. 

Runners approaching the finish line

I then left when I noticed I was starting to feel the winter chill seep into my bones, and realised how little clothes I was wearing for a winter’s day.  I headed back to the car and started thinking about a hot bath and a big Sunday roast waiting for me at home.  I wondered if I’d ever be tempted to top my challenge.  For now I am looking forward to a few weeks off and not running another marathon until Paris on April 15^th.