Brighton Marathon: Reflections from the dark side of running 26.2 miles!

I've just completed my 3rd marathon. It was by far one of the hardest races I've ever run. I'm not really sure what went wrong. This blog is for my own benefit rather than anyone else, sometimes putting things down on paper make you see things more clearly. If you decide to read then forgive the ramblings of my mind.

I'm not a great runner, I'm an average middle/back of the pack kinda girl. I have pulled a few PBs since January, but mostly my running has been mediocre. I remember saying back in January, after I was ill, that if got to the start line, it was about finishing the race, not getting a good time.

Yesterday, I was well hydrated, well rested, well fuelled, well 'carbed'  up. I felt in great shape, I was excited about the race, however I felt I should have been more nervous, I kept saying to Steve that I didn't feel I had any respect for the marathon. I had looked at the route and to be honest, I didn't find it that inspiring. I've loved learning to run in the mud and hills and beautiful Surrey countryside, running up and down Brighton just didn't really feel very special to me. (NB: part of the marathon course runs up  by the power station and really it's not very beautiful, theres also lots of the course where the faster people are going in the other direction!!)

Anyway, to say I felt disconnected from the race would probably be right. It was a good start, I set off at the back of the pink pack and managed to catch up with the 4:30 pacer. I managed to stay with them even though they were running a sub 10 minute mile, which was faster than I had planned, but stuck with it anyway. At mile six, I had a nasty pain in my shin which continued for about another 2 miles. I started to feel anxious about it and tried to block it out. I was well hydrated and started to need the loo, but wanted to carry on drinking as though I didn't need too!!

Around mile 10, I was starting to feel tired, I was still with the 4:30 pace group. The pacer was great and very motivating. However, it just didn't feel right, I felt kind of depressed I think, I couldn't get my mind to stay focussed on the task in hand and thoughts kept drifting in, pains, toilet, fuel...

I hit half marathon at 2:11, which is slower than my PB but this was a marathon after all. The 4:30 group started to drift ahead, rather than push on and catch them I was slowing down. The route took a turn into Brighton, along some uninspiring streets, with lots of spectators calling people's names. The name on my top was RON HILL, haha, nobody called my name.

I felt miserable, the miles went slowly and seemed grey and boring. I really needed the loo, my legs were tired, my badder was bursting. I stopped at mile 18 and queued for the potra-loo! I normally smile at people needing the loo at races, but reality was I was bursting, and hoping if I did go I'd find my mo-jo again with a renewed sense of empty-bladderness!!

This wasn't the case, the running was hard, my legs hurt, the miles were slow, the thought I'd not make come in near my 4:36 marathon PB loomed in my mind. I'm not good at dealing with failure or disappointment. So I tried to draw on the visualisations of the race I had in my mind, only to find there weren't any. I'd not spent any time reflecting on aspects of the race before hand so had no visuals to draw on. This was one of the major fails of the day for me. My mind was struggling and was empty. My legs were tired.

I was eventually overtaken by the 4:45 pacer and decided at that point, there was no point even trying to pull it back to something I felt was respectable. I ran-walked the last 4/5 miles. (I have a place to run the VLM next week and decided I'd preserve my sanity and just get through the last few miles).

I finished the race in 4:56, my poor spectators had waited far longer for me than they thought, I had at least hoped to finish close to my Loch Ness time. There was no runners high, no real joy as I crossed the line, in my mind I had failed myself. I got my medal and goody bag and we left!

I'm not sure if anyone else has had races like this, it's one thing to not get into a 10k but to not relax into a marathon is so very, very hard, I'm not sure if it's connected to me dropping my second to last long run because of illness. I felt a terrific sense of failure then too, even though I ran 10 miles and I got a personal best!

Today, I feel a bit happier, nobody really understands how I feel, to most people a marathon is still a marathon they don't undertand the sense of disappointment I feel in myself for letting it beat me.

My boyfriend Steve, ran yesterday in 3:21, a fantastic time, I'm so proud of him!

I'm picking myself up, zipping up the man-suit (slowly and with aching quads) and looking forward to running London, in fancy dress, hopefully with my lovely boy Steve and meeting up with Mark a friend I've made via twitter. It will be fun, exciting, we will hopefully laugh (lots) and enjoy the sights and the crowds of London. I'm not setting any targets, to run one marathon is tough, to run two in a week will be tougher, but the second one already feels like it will be better than the first!

So, ramblings ended, my tips for running a marathon, yes, be fuelled, yes, be hydrated but also as important is the mental preparation you need to keep you going when it's tough!

Oh and I'm thinking of going back next year and doing it again 'properly'!