Friday 14 October 2011

Lliverpool Marathon Report. The Long & Winding Road.

I travelled up to Liverpool wifeless by train the day before. Hania is seven and a half months pregnant so she wanted to stay at home and be as comfortable as possible. I wanted to do this marathon as my sister lives in Liverpool and I thought it’d be a great opportunity to see her and my nephew whilst getting in my biannual marathon ‘hit’.

Had a lovely time on Saturday, meeting my Sister and nephew at Lime St and then going on to pick up the official bag for my kit to be stored whilst I raced on the Sunday. I did have a worry that all my stuff wouldn’t fit in but luckily it did.

Anyway, we then went off to Naomi’s and had a spot of lunch and then my Dad and Step Mum arrived and we went out for a nice early dinner on Lark Lane. I had a lovely swordfish kebab with rice and Pitta. Perfect – easily digestible food.

I managed to have a fairly early night on the Saturday and didn’t have too many issues getting to sleep but then awoke at 4:00am and typically struggled to get back to sleep as the race day nerves started to surface. I did manage to get back to sleep around half five for another hour. Woke up pretty refreshed and ready to go. Had my breakfast and a quick shower and then the taxi came. I caught the shuttle bus from the City Centre which was great and took us pretty close to the start point in Birkenhead Park. The weather conditions at this point seemed perfect; nice and cool and very little wind.

Birkenhead Park is a perfect start point. Wide open space with nice path around the perimeter which would serve as the opening mile of the race. I dropped off the kit bag and bumped into fellow Orpington RR club member, Stephen Wright. We had a bit of a chat and wished each other well for the challenge ahead. I then went off and did a bit of a warm up and get the legs moving. I had meant to meet up with some other folk but nerves were getting the best of me and I decided that I would prefer the time on my own to collect my thoughts.

I then went to get on the start line and met up with Phill Taylor of Bridlington who was looking to aim for sub 2:30 too. We had been in contact prior to the race and agreed that we’d run with each other and try to share the workload a bit. I had also heard of a guy called John McCole (a14:18 5,000m Man!) who was running in his debut marathon. As a local lad with a great running pedigree he had to be the favourite for the race. I saw him on the start line ready to go.





As the race start time approached, I met Scooby Dudek who was also racing and Blisters & Beer who was spectating (RW forumites) who came hello to say hello. I had a gel and prepared myself for the race ahead. Just as we thought we were about to be set on our way we heard that the race had not had clearance from the Police due to some motorists on the course despite the roads being closed. Idiots. Anyway, we were finally on our way at just under 50 mins late. Although I hadn’t really thought about it until writing this now, I had decided to have a light breakfast this time, whereas I normally fill myself up with a fairly big carby breakfast but I
wanted to ensure I didn’t suffer from the tummy problems that I have had in the past. Thinking about it I had not eaten for nearly four hours and was about to set off on a very intense race. Did it affect the outcome, who knows? But maybe a little bit.

The plan was to go out at 5:43 per mile and stick to it as long as possible! As with all these things the plan goes out the window as soon as the gun goes and it’s more a case of trying to get into a comfortable rhythm that should be sustainable.

I was quickly in the lead running in a group with Phill and John and the miles were ticking by nicely although I had noticed even this early on that there were quite a few steady inclines that were a bit sapping. The wind had also picked up quite considerably since early morning and so this was clearly going to be a major factor as the race went on. I had decided at this point that 2:30 was not going to be on so it was a case of trying to run a sensible yet competitive race with the other guys around me. We were chatting amongst the three of us and decided that we would try to share the work as much as possible. The truth is, and I don’t know if the other two felt this but it didn’t seem to matter who took the lead on but it was very hard to get any shelter whatsoever, maybe I’m just not used to drafting and don’t know how to do it properly!





Anyway, we hit the prom New Brighton and went through 10k in 36:18 (5:51 pace) so a long way off sub 2:30 pace. Not to worry, let’s crack on. We then hit the front at New Brighton and started the long run back to Birkenhead. The wind on this section of the course was pretty brutal and I was starting to struggle to hold on to the two guys by 8 miles. The sensible option here was probably to drop right back and leave them to it as I wasn’t sure I could sustain this pace for much longer, especially given the conditions. I made the choice though that I would try
to stick with it, see myself into the tunnel and reassess at half way.




As we got to the around about mile 10, John had decided he’d had enough and pushed on. I’m not sure whether he actually lifted the pace or whether both Phill and I just held back into the headwind whilst going up a short incline, but I suspected we wouldn’t be seeing much more of him for the rest of the race. I was right, John went on to win in 2:34:41 in his debut marathon. A fantastic achievement.

We went through Hamilton Square which was superb, there were lots of supporters on the streets and all sorts of entertainment making a great racket which helped lift the spirits if not the pace. We then entered the Queensway Tunnel and were approaching the half way mark. We’d have a reasonable downhill with no wind! Finally. The rhythm was good here and we allowed ourselves a look back. Ian Streeter was in fourth place about 50m back looking strong. Phill and I went through the halfway point together in 76:54 (5:52 pace) so we had slowed since 10k but not a lot. As we started the incline back out of the tunnel I really thought I was going to have to let Phill go, I was working a lot harder than I wanted to. But then I heard it,the beats of the drums coming from the other end of the tunnel. Dum-der-dum-der-dum-der-dum. I didn’t know this was going to be here but it was like a thunder rumbling in the distanceand it gradually got louder and louder; the 15 yards that Phill had on me was disappearing as this noise drove me on. We were 70 yards from the tunnel exit and the noise was building and building to a crescendo, I drew level with Phill, the tiredness suddenly vacant from my legs as
the adrenaline started to flow. We hit it. The light, the massive light, the noise, the volume, the beat. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I physically shook with emotion. I do now as I type it. It’s one of those times in life that will stay with you forever and can draw a tear to the eye when you think of it. Just incredible. You won’t believe it but it was better than hitting Tower Bridge at the London Marathon. I’m sure that these moments are completely
unique to running, I sure as hell haven’t experienced them anywhere else!

We were now on the Liverpool side of the course and I knew I was due to see my family in a few twists and turns. The streets were lined with loads of supporters cheering us on. It felt great to be in 2nd place in a marathon in a major UK City. Thanks to the delay at the start my Mum had managed to get to the cheering point on James’ St where my sister, nephew, Dad and Step Mum were there doing their best to pick up an ASBO for disturbing the peace.



It is so great having a family that not only are so supportive of my running but clearly take so much pride in the fact that I’m reasonably good at it. I can see the pride in their eyes. Again I’m moved to tears. I want to do them proud.

After this point I know the course is going to be a long slog up to the parks, this includes running up Upper Parliament St which in it’s own right is not mountainous and you’d eat it for breakfast in a normal training run. It’s a completely different kettle of fish when you are 15.5 miles into a marathon that is not going exactly to plan, and you’re finding the going tough, the wind is draining every ounce of energy you have and your nearest competitor seems to have a spring in their step that you just don’t have. I sat off the back of Phill as we went up the incline really trying to conserve my energy as much as possible. I knew I was going to be in for an interesting last few miles. Luckily I was in third place but how long would I be able to keep it for?

As we approached the 17th mile I had got back on terms with Phill and it was the first time that I sensed he was starting to tire. All of a sudden I could hear footsteps approaching and Ian Streeter caught us up. I said ‘hello pal’, he ignored me, so clearly in the zone and he went straight past us. I decided that I wanted to see if I could hold on to him, I couldn’t but it caused me to raise my pace a little bit. Unfortunately for Phill he struggled to hold on to me at this point
and I all of a sudden I had 20 yards on him. I beckoned with my hand for him to try to get back so we could continue to work together. He didn’t come, and that was pretty much the last I saw of him.

I hit the 20 mile mark in 1:59:54 (a fraction under 6:00 pace) so had slowed quite considerably in this third segment of the race, but that was to be expected given the hills in this part. I glanced a few times back and couldn’t see Phill so thought I was clear. As I made my way through Sefton Park escorted by a marshall cyclist I was suddenly aware of just how tired I had become. I hadn’t been checking my pace pretty much since the first few miles as it just wasn’t going to be about that this time but I really was running on empty. I tried to take encouragement from
the crowds gathered to give me a lift but I was grinding to a halt. My legs felt like lead weights, my breathing was laboured and I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. I still drove on trying to get the next 3 miles done so I could start thinking about the finish. All I had to do was finish in third and it would be a great result. How great would it feel to finish 3rd in a race with over 5000 ultimate finishers? That would surely be a great achievement.



I started to relax but before I knew it I had grown complacent that I had third place in the bag and I could start to think about another addition to the trophy cabinet. I was wrong, I struggled on to 23 miles and at a hairpin in Princes Park I had the opportunity to look back and see if I had daylight between myself and fourth place. Half expecting to see Phill catching me up I was shocked to see that it was Pat Wright only about 200 metres behind. We had had a brief chat with him on the start line and he said he was going for sub 2:45! Wow, he was having a great
race on his debut. The negative thoughts started building in my mind and all I could think about was finishing an agonizing fourth. Over the next quarter of a mile I talked myself into not letting it happen, I HAD to finish in third. I was not going to give up, I was not going to cave. I would fight to the end to get that third place. I had made the commitment, I had decided that I would get third place. I had to keep a strong head, I had to try to get my legs moving fluidly and I had
to believe that I could do it.

My training had gone brilliantly and I felt in fantastic shape, sure I didn’t seem to be having a great day but I knew I had the training to back up a strong finish even if I had to dig to the depths of my soul to find it.

I hit 24 miles and all of a sudden I finally felt I was on the finishing straight, I had about a 200metre lead on Pat and I just had to keep going. I thought if I could just keep moving at sub 6:00minute miles I would be ok and it was unlikely he would catch me. I lifted my pace and as soon as I did it felt better. There were runners on the other side of the street who were going up to the parks and they were cheering me on and shouting encouragement, unfortunately I didn’t have the strength to return the favour. I was just concentrating so intently on putting one foot in front of the other. I hit Upper Parliament St and allowed myself a glance back, flying down the hill we had gone up some ten miles earlier Pat had got closer still. He was now only about 50 metres back and catching me all the way. I told myself this was my last marathon, just battle to the end and finish third and you don’t have to put yourself through this again. Just don’t let him beat you. We finally hit the flat and the long straight for home along the main road with the
docks on the left hand side. I could just about hear him breathing over my shoulder.

I could see the 26 mile marker looming up ahead, just get to that, stick your foot to the gas and he wont come back. The cyclist told me he was only 20 metres back. This was it, we approached the final mile marker. I saw my Dad and Step-Mum screaming on the side of the road. I daren’t glance across in case I lost it. I thought of my wife and my unborn child, they need someone strong and resilient. Do it for them, draw strength from your love for them. Finish in third, make it happen. Drive on, drive on. I lifted my pace and although I’ve never been much of a sprinter I somehow managed to raise my pace to 5:10 per mile for the last 385 yards. There was no way he could keep up with that but I daren’t look back. Just push on. I turned left in to the finishing straight. Nearly there. You can do this. The music pumping, the crowd going crazy. I was nearly home. I gave everything as the finish line drew near. I glanced back with 30 yards to go.



I knew I had done it. I had finished third. My legs like jelly I only just managed to stay upright as I crossed the line in 2:39:05. Never have I battled so hard against my mind and body telling me to stop. Never have I been so proud of what I can achieve when I put my mind to it.

I went through the finish area and met up with the family who beamed with pride. I felt so happy that I had given them these smiles. Yes I wanted sub 2:30. In reality if I’d thought properly about it before I would have known it was going to be a very tall order on that course with the likely weather conditions. Yes I was in great shape and I know I will get sub 2:30 at some point in the not too distant future but you do need everything to come together for you to have a chance of getting close to what you’re capable of. It wasn’t to be on this day, but this result was so much sweeter.