Running, like football, can be a game of two halves.
3 Days before Christmas seems like an excellent time to burn
off a few thousand calories in anticipation for the forthcoming gluttony and
alcoholic debauchery, so around this time for the last 3 years the Portsmouth
coastal marathon has been perfectly placed to assist in combating against the
onslaught of festive indulgence and act as a healthy knife cutting through the
grease of goose fat soaked roast potatoes.
The plan this year was to simply enjoy the marathon, for the
past two years I have tried to put in a performance and smash some goals, and
for the past two years I have battled against harsh elements to spectacularly
fail in doing so. The first year I ran this race was the very first marathon I have
ever ran, I ran it with my friend (and boss) Kate Weston in icy cold
conditions, considering it was our first 26.2 we managed to pull out a time of
around four hours which I considered to be a bloody good benchmark considering
the Siberian conditions and trail nature of the course. The second year I
foolhardily decided that a positive split would be a good idea, I had already
ran several marathons and I had a P.B of 3 hours 40 minutes, I thought that
home turf and knowledge of the course would put me in a superior position to
outwit the weather and the terrain, plus with the local news covering the start
of the race meant I put my best foot forward and tried to keep up with the faster
boys and girls at the off (anything to look good for the camera). Speeding off
at 7.30 / 8 minute miles ended in getting the major bonk around mile 20 and
recording a 3.55 time, which I am still pretty chuffed with but I didn't enjoy
the race at all.
This year would be different, this year the members of the
SMCD running club would be attending and completing the course as a team. The
members of the Sunday Morning Church Dodgers running club are a group of
friends who have been running off and on together for about 2/3 years, we get
together most Sunday mornings at 8am and then proceed to put the world to
rights whilst our little legs pound the hills, streets, beaches, fields, and pavements
of Portsmouth for a couple of hours or so. All of us have competed in races
previously but only two have run marathons, in fact for most the longest
distance covered is about 16 miles, so this event was to be a true baptism of
fire.
Signed up for the big day are; Luc Semmens, Michael Cobb,
Mat Price, Craig Marshall and myself Andy Pittman, the founder member of the
SMCD club Gary Cook, will be joining us en route to run about 18 miles of the
course and offer encouragement (as well as steal a couple of jaffa cakes). Luc,
Mat and Craig are all marathon virgins, and have picked a tough course to pop
their long distance cherries, all are super fit however and have overcome
various obstacles and hurdles to get to peak performance levels, this is the
right time to attack this adventure and put it down on their athletic CV’s.
As ever Rob Piggott and his Believe and Achieve team have
set out a wonderfully organised race, the baggage drop congestion being my only
criticism, however I truly recommend any of Rob’s events which are always
tremendously popular and enjoyable to participate in, I would always encourage
people to take part in any locally based events, especially charitable ones
such as this that give a positive contribution to our local community.
On the morning of the race Mat arrives in Das Bus to pick us
up and ferry us off to start line at the Pyramid Centre, numerate recollections
of nervous convenience breaks for that morning are exchanged as the air is
filled with excited and nervous chatter. The plan is to stick together as long
as we can as a team and attempt a 4 way heel click over the finish line,
however if people are feeling strong then they must save themselves and push
forward for glory. Being the veteran marathoner I have planned to stay with
whoever needs me the most, being a veteran at this doesn’t mean I am any good,
in fact it is very possible that it will be me at the back telling everyone
else to crack on, however I know the course and should be able to offer enough
positivity and reassurance to ensure that there will be no DNF’s next to any of
the SMCD.
Its bloody cold, not only that but it’s forecasted to rain,
and why not, it has rained almost constantly for about 5 days which will mean
that the course will mainly consist of mud and puddles, there is a decent
amount of tarmac but this is considered a trail marathon really. As we wait for
the start Cobby has decided to go get a good time, this leaves Luc, Mat, Craig
and myself to get round as best we can, with pockets full of jelly babies,
gels, bloks, and sweets we walk towards the start line, perfectly timed to
coincide with a biblical drenching from the heavens, an eager air horn gets us
rushing to the start and we join our fellow runners to commence our epic
escapade.
The storms have washed up the stones from the beach onto the
seafront promenade making the surface underfoot difficult from the start, one
wrong turn here and it’s a twisted ankle and a short hobble back, we are
running at a sensible pace so it is fairly easy to manoeuvre over the seaside
rubble and through the competitor congestion where needed. The prom gives way
to a short spell of grass before we descend onto a boggy beach of shingle and
mud, anyone who has run this route before knows of this beaches ability to suck
the shoes off of your feet in an instant, sometimes unwilling to return the
footwear and keep them within its murky clutches. Running this section nearer
to the water is the best route, there is more solid ground here and less chance
of Zola Budd-ing the rest of the race. Never the less this section still saps
the energy out of your legs at less than 2 miles in and sets a good president
for the unstable terrain to come.
The slower pace proves hard to keep to sometimes, each of us
at some point skip ahead before we have to forcibly slow ourselves down to
avoid premature burnout, we are expending more energy as we dart about to avoid
lake sized puddles, eventually we will be running straight through them, but at
this early stage it is best to avoid them so not to get blistered and freezing
feet. The atmosphere is great, we have all run together at some point, but not
for a gargantuan achievement such as this, all limbs feel fine, cardio is tip
top, and our camaraderie is second to none, this is now boosted as we hit
Eastern road and are greeted with warm cheers from Justine and Jessica who duly
dish out high fives to everyone, Gary also joins us here as the group is
reformed like an ageing boy band.
We banter along-side other runners and take on the food
stations at every available opportunity, a veritable banquet of jaffa cakes,
mince pies, cakes, sweets, and gels as well as a variety of drinks await us,
the drinks add to the party atmosphere as we sup up mulled wine and water (not
in equal quantities of course) and continue on our plight for distance running
stardom.
The ground underfoot now is tarmac, we run alongside a main
road for a few hundred metres before we turn off and run beside a nature
sanctuary, the coastal paths and surrounding scenery make this one of the most
pleasurable events to participate in, you are never more than a 100 yards from
the water and the wildlife and views you encounter along the way are breath
taking, it has something of everything and for everyone, road, views, beaches,
fields, tracks, water, mud, stones, the only thing it doesn't have is hills,
and to be fair I am completely ok with that !!
We are still all running as a group and with no niggles, we
have stuck to the pace plan and without exception feel pretty damn dandy, a
good sign of this is that we are all still chatting and bantering, we pass
another feed station taking on board its offers and then proceed towards
another stretch of beach, it is here where injuries can be picked up, the
change of surface from solid to shingle can overstretch muscles and pull and
stretch at them, a tingle of cramp can turn into a pulled muscle if not
nurtured correctly, the beach is about 200 metres long and again drains up a
lot of well needed energy as we trudge through the pebbled surface and plough
on. Wooden steps lead us away from the crunching stone stepping and into the
wet muddy trail paths heading towards Hayling Bridge.
We wait up and regain as a group, it’s a single track path
but we can squeeze a couple of runners together through , striding along the
ridge and avoiding pot holes and burrows still having enough in the tank to
prance over particularly deep looking pools or suspiciously deeps slugs of mud.
Reaching an innocent looking decline I scamper down gingerly and take a look
back to make sure my ensuing pals are following, Luc decides that he is far too
clean at this point and the only way to rectify this is to employ one of his
famous footballing tactics and dive into the mud (although this time it wasn’t
done on purpose), not wanting to see a man suffer on his own Gary also joins
Luc in his mud meeting crusade and promptly introduces the floor to his bum. Not
sure whether I was allowed to laugh or not I push on through the kissing gate
and towards the bridge …. Laughing ……
The next boost is at the next stop, Craig’s wife Hayley and
his kids Jack and Ruby are there cheering and waving, these types of boost are
amazing, just a wave or a cheer from someone you know or love can give you a
massive lift, make you emotional, and push you towards your goal with renewed
desire and determination. We stop for a while, it’s time for me to contemplate
the dreaded Billy Line, this is my least favourite part of the marathon, I have
run this course 3 times and each time this part seems to deplete my energy
reserves and sombre my mood, it is basically a very muddy wide track of gravel
and unavoidable puddles three miles long, it takes you up to the half way
turning point before leading you back again, a total of 6 miles running in wet
gloop. We re fuel on everything we can eat and hit the road again, Mat still
has an abundance of energy and often surges forward for a while and then waits
for us to catch up, Luc and Gary are looking good and I am feeling amazing, I
am really enjoying savouring this run with my mates, and being there if they
need me to give out any advice or cheesy one liners, Craig however is not
fairing as well, cardio wise he is probably one of the strongest of all of us,
however when injury strikes there is not much you can do about it. Craig’s knee
has started to give him some gip, you have got to make a decision here what is
the best, of course everyone wants to finish whatever race they enter, but not
to the detriment of sustaining a serious injury, sometimes pushing yourself
further can put you on the side-lines for weeks, maybe months, on the other
hand pushing through the pain barrier with a minor injury may not do any
serious damage, for now all we can do is monitor the situation and hope it
doesn’t get too bad to incur a DNF.
About a mile into the Billy Line we spot the leaders running
back the other way, these guys are tremendous athletes, I don’t think I could
sustain the pace they are running at for even a 10k let alone a marathon, I
recognise Ian Berry in the top handful of runners and shout encouragement his
way, I am secretly hoping this may earn me a discount in the revered Kent
Roadrunner Marathon that he organises, he is a sub 3 hour marathoner so he
would have been at home with a cup of tea by the time I have even sniffed the
finish line.
The track doesn’t disappoint and is full of deceptively deep
pools and puddles, by this time our feet are soaked so we trundle through the
water almost in resignation, spirits are still high even but Craig’s knee is
becoming more and more painful. We reach the half-way point and gorge ourselves
again on every morsel of food on offer, mulled wine is quaffed in shots (more
so by Craig who I think may be trying to numb the pain) and the chocolate is
welcomed and snaffled, a quick turn and we are on the home straight, we have
now completed the half marathon and every step now is a step nearer to the
finish line, we can count down the miles and confidently gauge how far is left
to travel, sometimes this is an advantage in a ‘there and back’ event,
sometimes it’s a hindrance, it depends on how you are feeling, if you feel
great and full of energy you can count off the milestones easily and get to the
next point with enthusiasm, however if things aren’t going too well then every
recognisable point is like a beacon of despair reminding you exactly how far
there is left to go, which seems like an eternity, unfortunately in this case
for some of us it was the latter.
Hayley and the kids were waiting again just after the
Hayling Bridge, we were still all together although the pace was getting
remarkably slower, thumbs up photos were taken and some back slaps and high
fives handed out, this was to be one of the final moments we were to remain
together as a group, the stop was at about mile 16.
Heading off we pass through the kissing gate and over mud
slip hill, we are now having to stop every 4/5 minutes or so and walk, Luc and
Mat are off up in the distance and we tell them to carry on, I ask Craig what
he wants to do, if he wants to get through this then I will make sure he gets
to the finish line, however if he feels like it is a serious injury it is best
to turn around now and get some assistance, he decides to keep going and does
not want to give up, and that is exactly what we do. We run and then walk for
the remaining 6/7 miles, talking and chatting trying to ignore the pain, we
rest up at each feed station and visualise the finish ahead, a lot of runners
are in the same position, limping and shuffling, slow jogging and walking, but
none are giving up.
Fast forward to the trail track just before the final beach
run, I am trying to think of ways to keep Craig’s mind off of his knee, we are
now about 3 miles from the finish, I tell him the last mile doesn’t count
because that is the glory mile so technically he only has two miles to run, by
now words of encouragement are falling on deaf ears, actions are the only thing
left I have to improve the situation, the track is pretty flooded, the water is
very cold, cold equals refreshing, splashing in puddles equals funny, I pick
out a suitable puddle just up ahead and as we approach I attack it with vigour,
jumping up high with both feet I force my legs down into it in a sideways
motion, this should get a laugh as I spray water into Craig’s kneecaps, a
refreshing splash to keep his mood up, a great scenario to perk us up for the
final couple of miles …….. actually that puddle was quite deep ……..what I
intended to be a stimulating splash actually ended up to be a tsunami tidal
wave of muddy grotty water ……. I have never seen anyone look at me with such
hatred before, with pure condemnation and disbelief of what had just occurred,
the water poured off of his hair and dripped down off of his nose in brown
torrents, quickly realising I had made a huge error of judgement I did what any
friend would do, and wet myself laughing, thankfully the runners around us
burst out laughing too which defused the situation immensely, what Craig called
me is unrepeatable, some of the things he said I still don’t think are humanly
possible, but what it did do was take our mind off of things for a while, ok
maybe not in the way I meant it to, but it worked.
The tide had come in so we gratefully welcomed a detour
through the park and not over the beach and stones, this was it, this was the
final mile, the marathon had taken it out of a lot of people and nearly
everyone from now on in were doing their best just to get to the finish line,
we were walking at this point but the finish line was in sight, with one final
push we summoned up enough effort to get this over and done with. I heard my
sister Jackie before I saw her, she had come over from Israel for Christmas and
was here to cheer me on, my other Sister Caroline was there, Justine and
Jessica, my Mum Marian and my nephews Ben and Sam, Hayley and Ruby cheered on
also and Jack ran the final 100 metres with us. We ran across the finish line
and timed ourselves at just under 5 hours, hugely respectable considering the
circumstances. Cobby had finished in about 4 hours and Luc and Mat had finished
in about 4.5 hours, Gary had dropped out at about mile 18.
An amazing achievement from everyone, 3 marathon cherries
popped and all in pretty good times, we faced everything from harsh conditions
and pain to laughter and banter, but most of all we completed something as
friends, a monumental accomplishment from fellow marathoners and chums, and
soon to be marathoner Gary as he has just been accepted into the Virgin London
Marathon to run alongside Luc and myself in April.
Pretty damn proud of our running group and I am looking
forward to running with everyone again soon.
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