This was an amazing weekend for the running folk – at the Vienna Marathon on Saturday, Eliud Kipchoge became the first man to run a marathon in under 2 hours (1:59:40). The next day, at the Chicago Marathon on Sunday, Brigid Kosgei would break Paula Radcliffe’s record and run a 2:14:04 marathon. Also in Chicago, I would be happy to see Emily Abbate run a 3:28:08 Boston-qualifying time. As I was sipping coffee in bed and scrolling through “Instagram running news”, I started thinking about my own challenge that was coming up the next day: running the Royal Parks Half Marathon.
I’ve been excited about this one since March, when I found out I had won a ballot place. I’ve run three halfs so far and none of them had been a big London event. This one was different. The course was through central London, the roads would be closed, there would be over 16,000 runners at the start line.
My initial goal was to run a 2:38, just a little faster than the half marathon in March. It’s true, I had prepared less, but I figured the crowds and the atmosphere will make up for what I was lacking in preparation. Then I learned that there would be pacers on the course and after checking my pace on various runs on my Garmin, I decided I could in fact go a little faster… what if I could achieve a 2:30? And this is the sweet thought I woke up and headed to Hyde Park with.
“I feel I can run all day”
After an awesome breakfast I didn’t have to cook (thanks Blondie) and a surprise from the weather gods – cloudy, yet dry – I reached the start line at 9:40am in good spirits, feeling good in my skin and prepared to run. I got behind the 2:30 pacers, I recapped at which miles I was going to take my gels, told myself “I’ve got this” and off I went.
The course was crowded but I managed to somehow find my sweet spot: about 2-3 steps behind the 2:30 pacers, right in between them. The atmosphere was amazing: the crowds were great, I was in peripheral vision thus soaking it all in and salsa music was blasting in my ears. The first mile felt great and I remember telling myself, while passing in front of Buckingham Palace, that I could run like this all day! I was pumped and I loved it!
Sometime between miles 3 and 4, on Strand, I remembered to take my first gel. I didn’t feel like I needed it, I just thought I’d better stick to the plan. The 2:30 pacers were still right in front of me and I could hear them chatting away. I realised I had somehow messed up when starting my Garmin and it now looked like I had ran 13 miles already (WTF), but I noticed the pacers checking we were on schedule, so I just left it to them to pace me. We ran on Strand and The Mall and into Hyde Park on the Serpentine. We, I, was passing other runners and there were crowds of people witnessing the whole adventure, there was energising music and lots and lots of cheering.
This doesn’t feel so good anymore
Around mile 6 I started to feel a little tired. I slowed down a bit but then I knew… if I loose the pacers, I could say goodbye to the 2:30PR. That’s when I gathered some speed and caught up with them. As I caught up with the pacers, there was Brazilian drumming in the background and another runner handed me some gummy bears – just in time before a water station. I kept up the pace a little but by mile 7 I could feel the tiredness caused by my acceleration earlier. I was just halfway through and my legs were asking for a break. I opened another gel and allowed myself to walk a few steps, before running again knowing full well that I want to wizz past the mile 8 marker where Nick was cheering the runners – and would mention me – on a megaphone.
I ran two miles at a slower pace. I could feel my 2:30 time getting further and further away from me and then out of reach. I remembered my initial goal was to just run faster than I had at the March half; that a 2:38 would still be a PR and I knew I could do that. I kept running and I walked a little and then I ran some more, albeit it has started running by now and the wind was blowing too.
Then came the tears
I struggled from mile 10 to mile 12. The last gel I had didn’t seem to help and drinking water didn’t seem to change anything. I desperately needed the loo, the rain and the wind were whipping my face and I couldn’t see the end of this ordeal. Some weird pulsing in my knees slowed me down even further as I had to stop, stretch and massage my knees in order for them to want to bend at all. Walking felt nearly as hard as running and I had never experienced that kind of pain before, albeit massaging the sides of my knees seemed to help.
I was walk-running towards the Royal Albert Hall and by the 12 mile marker when I realised that if I keep walking and massaging my knees, the 2:40 pacers might pass me. For the fist time I looked behind me as if wanting to convince myself they are out of sight, only they weren’t. The 2:40 pacers were just a few steps behind me and closing in. A stream of emotion ran over me and with it tears rolled down my cheeks. Then the 2:40 pacers passed me and my body just wouldn’t go any faster.
At the 800 meters marker I could’t believe I still had that much to go. And then there was a curve, the last bend in the road before I could see the finish line. I did run the last bit, at whatever slow speed I could, but I passed that finish line running. I received my medal and off I went, heading towards the exit of the half marathon village.
I finished a(nother) half marathon
Where I saw disappointment, Blondie and my friends saw an achievement. They were right, I had finished another half marathon and I had a lot to be proud of. And I am. I did come a long way, two years ago I couldn’t even run to the bus stop without feeling as if my heart was going to jump out of my chest.
Now I had run my fourth half marathon. And yet, by design, people always strive to achieve more and more, to become better and better. In a past not that far behind, I didn’t think I could ever run this much. And today, it’s no longer just about the distance, it is now about the time as well. I know I can run faster and perhaps I could have ran a 2:30 on Sunday, perhaps if I had worked just a little harder – both in advance of the day and on the day.
The learnings
- Training without discipline can only take me this far, it is imperative that I create a training schedule and stick to it (like I did before)! The truth is I haven’t really done much speed training and I haven’t done many long runs either. Yes, I kept doing the milage and yes, I got out and ran about three times a week, and it’s clear it was not enough. Before my March half I was in much better shape and back then I was even more disciplined than I was now…
- I cannot mess with the food, it is imperative that I stick to my diet! I could argue that I’ve been travelling, that I’ve been eating out, that… but I know I could have been more disciplined the month leading up to Sunday. And if the proof is in the pudding, than I don’t even need to look that far.
- Unapologetically leverage every single opportunity to get stronger and faster! On the rare occasion I train with other people, I’ve invariably felt bad about slowing them down – and it’s been always me who was the slowest. But the truth is I can grow if I hang out with people who have achieved while I strive to achieve AND… if they wouldn’t wanna run with me, if they’d wanna run fast, they would run on their own… So here I am, looking forward to run with someone faster, with you, to be challenged to keep up. Again. Again. And again.
What’s next?
Keep an eye on this space. I feel like booking another race…
