VMLM Race Report
An event unlike anything else.
An achievement beyond anything else.
A day to remember.
The Lead Up
The traditional lead up to marathon looks like this: a 16 to 20 week training block followed by a two week taper incorporating both mental and physical preparation for the enormous challenge at hand. I took a more unconventional approach.
I had been training for 50 km trail race. For me, that looked like:
one half marathon-paced speed session a week
tempo work incorporated into my long run
weekly mileage peaking at 135 km
If you’re interested in the specifics, find me on strava - www.strava.com/athletes/10263660
A tempo session four days before the London Marathon indicated I might have a good marathon time in my legs. I wasn’t about to argue. I hurriedly got on Trainline and ironed out the specifics of my 27 hour round trip from Cornwall to London and back to compete in the London Marathon.
This makes it sound like I somehow blagged an entry days before the event but I actually had a good for age place that I’d put on hold in favour of trail racing. That was travel and entry sorted now I just need some accommodation in London. A quick text to a teammate who was also competing found me a spare bed in his hotel room. That’s it, I had sorted the logistics and would toe the start line.
Over the years I have gotten my race morning routine down to a tee: wake up three hours before the event, eat porridge and drink coffee, get changed and take a poo, travel to the event, breakdown in a heap of nerves, take another poo, act cool at the start line, race. So when I turned up to the premier inn restaurant to find no breakfast laid out it threw me. In fact, it threw me so much that when I did manage to convince the chap to sort me out a bowl of porridge I forgot to ask for it to be vegan. ‘Stay cool’ I thought, ‘no problem’ I repeated, I’ll eat it anyway. Turns out cows milk tastes like manure when you haven’t consumed it for three years. I resorted to the stale piece of raisin bread left from the previous days travel. However, this was only the first deviation from the norm.
What stood out to me as I ran backwards and forwards along the grassy section of the blue start area that had been claimed by folks warming up is that I had no nerves. In fact, I felt completely relaxed, some kind of inner peace, like my body knew what it had to do and that a ‘performance of a lifetime’ was never in doubt. As we were called into our starting pen and I was huddled with all the other competitors like some kind of group hug, I started some mental imagery - imagining myself both from first and second person perspectives running across tower bridge and down the finishing straights, with impeccable form and nigh on impossible speed. I started to feel incredibly excited. I did one of those customary bounces that people do at the start line and felt like I almost launched into space. Something was about to happen, I just didn’t know what yet.
The Race
The London Marathon route starts with a downhill section. I found this immensely beneficial as it allows you to find a good cadence from the off. I was three people from the front of my wave and so had clear streets through this section. I reassured myself that there was no need to sprint out of the gate, let the pace and rhythm come to me. I dared a glance at my watch and didn’t like what I saw. 3:50/km, a long way shy of the sub-2:30 marathon I had dreamt of. So that was that, I wasn’t in the shape I thought and today was going to be about enjoying the route. Only I hadn’t taken into account the significant tree cover over the route. Within 100m my watch was reading 3:20/km, more compatible with my internal speedometer. The adrenaline started flooding my system, as Sherlock Holmes would say, the game was a foot!
I was cruising. I was flying even. There was no need for my watch anymore. I knew I was moving well, there was no need to label it with such arbitrary matters. Nothing could stop me today….except that huge congregation of runners approaching from my left. Who were they?! Where were they all coming from? Were they protestors storming the race? Or perhaps civilians fleeing from some unknown foe. More likely they were another wave that had been set off before us but I didn’t take the time to ask.
I had two choices, either get frustrated with the new obstacles or use them as motivation to drive me forward, acknowledging each person passed as a small victory. Before I knew it, I was slaloming down the road.
The early miles ticked off without any regard for pace or position. I had my head up looking for the landmarks that eluded me during my first running of this race. I was broken by halfway that time, unable to revel in the city’s sights. Not this time. This time I had told myself to enjoy the city tour, immerse myself in the atmosphere and let it carry me.
On my approach to Tower Bridge, the crowds started to thicken. I had taken a Maurten gel only 5 minutes before and I could feel it’s effects start to kick in. My hairs were standing on end. I started to get the crowds going with wild hand gestures and shrill crys. They responded with roars of encouragement and wild hand gestures of their own. I was about to cross halfway and I hadn’t had to think about the condition of my legs once. This was some kind of miracle, surely.
I knew that now was the time to focus and concentrate on a constant pace. Something I could maintain to the finish. However, the noise from the crowds cut off any line of thought you attempted to pursue. It was genuinely a problem. So I just gave up with it and once again let my worries dissipate. I decided that when the pain came, and the one thing I could be sure of is that it would, I’d deal with it then and not before.
Sure enough, like the certainty of the sun rising each morning, the pain came. With 10km to go, my legs told me they’d had enough. Perhaps we should stop and have a rest they uttered. I started to do some maths. However, my watch was disagreed with the distance markers. At some point my GPS must have gone haywire. What does this mean for my projected finish time? Am I still on for my sub 2hr30 marathon or has that been stripped away? I didn’t have the mental capacity to work it out. I’m just going to have to empty the tank and hope that it’s enough.
I was still passing people. Surely a sign that I was still running well, or just that they weren’t. Gritting my teeth, I went through kilometre marker after kilometre marker. They weren’t passing fast but they were passing. I had turned all my attention to maintaining what form I could muster and not succumb to my bodies demands to stop. I could feel my heart rate increasing as it felt like I was breathing underwater.
Passing the ‘600m to go’ banner and turning the last corner to see the finishing clock, I realised I had done it. 10, 11, 12, the seconds would tick slowly by before I could reach the line but I stopped the timer at 02:28:22. I bent over for a second because it seemed like the thing to do. Then I just walked off as if nothing had happened. It was only when a baggage handler asked how I’d done that I came back to reality and welled up. 02:28:22. 02:28:22. Oh god, my train leaves in an hour. I need to move!
The Recovery
Marathon recovery processes vary, some people like to take a week or two off running to let the body reboot. Some like to go for a little jog soon after the race to aid flushing the muscles. Most don’t schedule a 50km trail race a fortnight afterwards. Was I about to find out why?
My legs felt remarkably good. Even walking to the train station immediately afterwards felt comfortable. A few bouts of cramp on the train back to Cornwall caused some alarm to the person allocated the seat beside me but otherwise I had come away relatively unscathed. I was back running 48 hours later but just easy miles. I completed 60km in the first week without issue.
However, recovery was greatly hindered by a cold. I always find my immune system takes a hit a day or two after a race and this time a virus snuck in. I took extra care and rested for a couple of days before going again. Who knows how I’ll hold together in the next challenge. Maybe it’ll be a huge mistake but one things for sure, I won’t regret running VMLM ‘21.
What Have I Learnt?
I work well off little taper, big volume and minimising the risk of psyching myself out. This isn’t the first time I have completed a race with little notice and each time I do, I expect my body to fail but it never materialises
Maurten gels are as good as they are hyped up to be. This isn’t an ad. I’m not sponsored by them (or anyone). But the Maurten gel just gave me a nice balanced energy surge that lasted 30-45min. It’s flavourless and easy on the stomach. I’ll be going back for more (for races, they’re far to expensive for training!)
A lot of the pressure I put on myself may be around how I place in a race. In this scenario I knew my placing was irrelevant and that nobody would be watching my performance. This meant I could take the brakes of and run my race
Thanks for following along!