I’m a marathon runner. By that, I mean I’ve finished a few marathons – not in any flash times or anything, I just enjoy the challenge that completing a marathon holds. It had been 5 years since I had done a marathon before lining up a couple of weeks ago for the 2008 Canberra Marathon. This would be my second Canberra Marathon and my 7th marathon overall. Not only that, it would be my first marathon as an Over-40 competitor – I am officially a veteran runner.
The start time of the Canberra Marathon is 7:00am so my alarm had me awake at 5:00 and, after dressing, waking the kids and getting a light breakfast organised I was just about ready to head for the starting line. There was just the matter of negotiating the numerous nervous toilet stops that my adrenaline-charged body was demanding of me.
As we stepped out of our motel room we were greeted by overcast skies that soon turned to rain. Good running weather, bad spectating weather. The rain continued as we made our way to the marshalling area making sure the goosebumps were out when the warm up clothes came off.
Seven o’clock, quick kisses all round with the family and I was on the starting line looking forward to another trip around Parliament House and Lake Burley Griffin. My goal time was a fairly sedate 3:30 – my previous best for Canberra was just over 3:25 but that was 5 years ago.
We were off and my initial plan was to ease into the race during the first 10k to ensure I didn’t run into difficulties over the final 5k. We veteran runners are wily blokes who are old enough to know better.
However, within the first couple of kilometres I found myself running with the 3:15 pace-setter and decided that the pace seemed reasonable so I stuck with him. The first 10km of the Canberra Marathon takes you down to the shores of Lake Burley Griffin before you go up the hill and around Parliament House. The rain was pretty constant through this part of the race and once we’d climbed the hill we had some great views of Canberra and the menacing clouds over the surrounding mountains.
Actually, the rain was a blessing, providing us with almost perfect running conditions. But by around the 10th kilometre I was beginning to feel a lot of pain from a most unlikely source. My nipples were beginning to chafe and I thought, if they’re already hurting after 10k, how are they going to feel after 42? Fortunately every drinks stop came equipped with a jar of Vaseline and at the 13k mark I was able to stop off for a liberal smear of the jelly and I was running pain free again.
My revised tactic of running with the pacer was paying off and it was smooth sailing for the first half of the race with his frequent assurances that we were right on pace helping to keep the confidence high. However, I was also running with a friend from work and when I checked with how he was going at the 21k mark, the news wasn’t encouraging on his part. He was struggling already.
22k - It was only a kilometre further on that I realised that my friend had dropped behind me and was steadily losing ground. I pushed on as we moved across the bridge to take us over Lake Burley Griffin towards the turnaround point for the second of the 2 out and back sections of the course. At the turnaround I searched for my friend but he was nowhere to be seen – not a good sign.
By the 26k turnaround mark the rain had stopped and the sun was out. Suddenly we had ourselves a completely different set of conditions. Fortunately I had my hat and sunglasses on and they were now going to be put to some good use. When you’re out running for over 3 hours and you have a veteran’s hairline, a hat is essential (a little tip for ya).
It was out over the lake for the second time and past the 30k mark. It’s about here that the kilometres start to tick off noticeably more slowly. The personal monitoring was being done more frequently as I’m well aware that you can go from feeling absolutely fine to completely shattered in the matter of only 200m. I found myself doing a mental countdown too…only 12k to go, only 11k to go…
It’s at around the 35k mark that The Wall begins to make its presence felt – it’s fallen on me in the past and I was determined that I wasn’t going to experience it this time. No sign of the cramps that can stop you in your tracks, so the sensible pace and taking on gallons of water , plus refuelling with gels was paying dividends.
At the 38k mark the 3:15 pacer gave everyone around him a final rev up saying that from here we only had to run 4:55 per kilometre to achieve a 3:15 finish. Yeah right! By this stage every k was beginning to feel as though to was taking an eternity. I could feel every single stone on the road through the souls of my shoes. I knew I had a massive blister on one of my toes but things were beginning to go haywire with my body and I couldn’t work out exactly which toe it was.
Pushing on through the 39k mark and the first sign of cramp hinted at my left foot. Back off! Back off! So I slowed my pace and concentrated on every relaxation technique I could think of including “Don’t think about the damn cramp in your left foot!”
The 40k mark came and went along with the final drinks station, but there was no way I was worrying about a drink now. It was one foot in front of the other as everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. One and a half to go and I passed my friend from work who had dropped out of the race at the 30k mark. Next I passed a woman being rolled into the recovery position after she collapsed on the side of the road. Things were getting grim.
The 41k point comes at a right hand turn and…bugger me, a long straight road that heads directly uphill! Which cruel person thought this torture up? I’ve resorted to counting my steps at this point. Up to 100 and start again, but even counting 10 steps seemed to be taking a long time. Half-way up the final hill I passed another collapsed runner, this one getting ambulance treatment. Poor guy, so far to run, so close to the finish only to DNF.
The 42k mark and the euphoria starts. A final right hander and my family are standing on the corner going bananas. I give them a thumbs up and a wave and then it’s away to the line.
I finished in 3:15:43 – my second fastest time ever and I am over the moon. My legs are tired , my singlet’s blood stained but I am experiencing the most amazing runner’s high you can ever imagine. There is nothing like the feeling of accomplishment that washes over you when you cross that finish line. It makes all the hard work worthwhile.
People often ask me why I run and they have an incredulous look on their faces when they ask. If I could bottle the feeling of completing a marathon and give them a little taste, I think they would understand completely.
