It's done. Marathon number 3 is complete and a new PB is set.
The final run up
The final week's preparation consisted of carb loading, an intervals session and a final 3 miler at marathon pace, to get the legs used to the tempo.
I don't know whether it was all the pasta and rice I was eating weighing me down, or the nerves of the upcoming race, but that final 3 mile run felt way tougher than it ought. Such a short run at this stage, should have been a breeze, a final confidence booster. Instead, it was a slog and I had to put it to the back of my mind before heading out to Berlin the next morning.
Changeable weather and walking paranoia
The Berlin Marathon has a reputation for having warmer than desirable conditions, and Friday afternoon was a mild 25 degrees with blue skies, warm for running indeed.
We wandered down to the expo, got a bit lost, walked to registration, queued, walked a bit more and arrived back at the hotel having felt we'd walked a couple of miles too many. My legs were feeling it already, although, so close to a marathon you've spent weeks preparing for, any slight abnormality feels like it spells disaster. Your mind tricks you into worrying about everything. Stairs, standing around, pretty much any time you've not got your feet up makes you feel like you could be just about to waste 100s of hours of training in the space of a few misspent minutes, a day or two before the race.
Of course, that's rubbish. We walked a fair distance, you tend to when you have to register for these events, and with my legs not being used to walking much of late (just running...), I felt it, but it was still Friday and the race was on Sunday.
Friday evening remained warm enough to eat outside but, come Saturday, it all changed. 25 degrees became 13 and the rain looked like it was set for the long haul.
Today was the day of the inline skating marathon. Running in the wet is bearable, sometimes quite refreshing, soggy feet are a pain, and if the wind picks up it can be nasty, but you can generally avoid puddles and built up cities tend not to suffer too much from strong winds. Skating, however, does not like something to be doing on greasy road surfaces in relentless rain, so fair play to them.
A bad night's sleep followed, but that's always the way the night before a race, for me, at least. Fortunately, the Friday night I'd managed to get plenty in and was still feeling quite refreshed and ready for the race ahead.
The wet race ahead. It was tipping it down outside. Still, nothing to do but get on with it. Right, what next?
Breakfast
Pre-race breakfast was as follows:
- 2 x bowls of Bircher muesli with extra banana and honey (the honey didn't go so well with the other fruit, but I felt I needed it, as it was what I was used to)
- 3 x cups of coffee, not too much milk
- 1 x orange juice
- 2 x small slices of granary bread with jam
- 1/2 x bottle of lucozade sport drunk on the way to the race
We were staying pretty close to the centre of town, right by the halfway point, and getting to the start area was simple. Getting into the start pen, however, was a different matter. We were funneled down various paths, too narrow to cope with the amount of people and gradually the crowds were forced to disperse into the woods and find any means possible to get to the start.
As the starting horn sounded, people were still trapped on the wrong side of barriers. I'd managed to jump them with about 30 seconds to spare. It wasn't ideal, but spirits were high, bolstered further by Chariots of Fire playing out over the loud speakers. It was on.
The race
At the start of any popular marathon, it's incredibly difficult to settle into a rhythm, but it's so important to force yourself to try and avoid the temptation of bolting out of the gate and zig-zagging your way through the crowds. No matter how good you feel and how tempting it might be, save all the energy you can, this is not a short race.
I set out intending to run the first half averaging a little over 8 minute miles. 4-5 miles in I was a little ahead of myself but the pre-race drinks were catching up with me so I decided to make a quick pitstop.
I ran the next couple of miles a little quicker to get back on the pace but then found myself not wanting to slow back down again and had started to clock 7:45s. With around 18 miles still left to run, I was wading into uncharted waters and realised this was likely too fast to maintain, so I forced myself to slow a little.
Soon after, I struck up conversation with a fellow racer. We both admitted we'd set off too fast and were worried about sustaining it, so we decided to chat and pull up on the pace a little. It was a great distraction, the next few miles flew past and the temptation to keep accelerating in the first half of the race had gone.
We parted one another somewhere after mile 10, I picked the pace back up a little and passed the half way point in 1 hour 46 minutes.
Half way point - Split
1:46:26; Pace
8:00 min/mile
You set yourself goals and decision points in a race, I do at least, and I knew it was now that I was going to decide whether to increase, maintain or pull up on the pace. Of course I'd hoped I would feel like increasing pace and, fortunately, I was still feeling strong, so I decided to up it a little.
I crept the pace up, so that my Garmin was reading about 7:55. I then began the near impossible task of working out pacing tables in my head, to figure out how to get me round in under 3:30. Anyone who's not attempted simple mathematic problems while running long distance, might not appreciate just how hard this is. Take it from me, it's weird how stupid running turns you.
By mile 14, I'd roughly worked out that I needed to knock off about 10 seconds a mile from my first half's pace, so that's what I did and, amazingly, managed to stick with it mile after mile.
I kept hydrating and eating through my gels regularly, taking on a gel every 35-40 minutes and only taking on up to 1/2 a cup of water every other water station, or 3-4 miles. At no point did I feel dehydrated or lacking in energy, so I felt I'd struck an optimum with this strategy.
No wall. A first for me
I was expecting it the whole time. Here I was clocking 7:50 minute miles, a full 30-40 seconds per mile quicker than my last marathon, and fully prepared, at any moment, for my body to tell me enough is enough.
That moment never came. Sure, I felt pain, it's still a marathon, my legs were getting gradually heavier, my feet were screaming at me to stop but I never felt that I couldn't make it nor did I have any desire to stop. In fact, the overwhelming desire was to gradually edge ever so slightly quicker, to make the finish come round just that bit faster!
So that's what I did and my last few miles ranged between 7:35 and 7:50, resulting in me finishing the marathon in 3 hours 28 minutes.
Finish time -
3:28:42; Pace
7:58 min/mile
N.B. To anyone running the Berlin Marathon, when you reach the final mile, you'll see the Brandenburg Gate in the distance and will likely begin to accelerate towards it, as did I. Not only does it seem to take forever to reach the gate, but when you do, you're actually still around 300 metres from the finish, which is another agonising minute of running, just when you thought you were done! It's all worth it though, as with every marathon I've taken part in, the pain is worth it in the end.
