It was to be a day of records, Moses Kibet broke the course record and ran the fastest ever marathon time in Ireland. Tatiana Aryasova broke the ladies record. The conditions were near perfect. I was not interested in records. It was my first marathon and I just wanted to finish.
I only decided to enter the day before the entries closed. I had been running all year but the focus was on shorter distances. I had completed a half marathon in March in training and a couple of ten milers but a marathon is a different kettle of fish. I had spoken to a few people who had run marathons to get different perspectives. Most people recommended taking the first half easy and saving yourself for the second half. Noel Territt was going to do it again this year but unfortunately injury prevented him from taking part.
John Fox lent me a book entitled Marathon Training for Dummies which I found very helpful, particularly the part which set out the 16 week training plans. The slight drawback with this was that I had only given myself five weeks to train having taken a week off after Budapest. But sure there was no bother. I was fit. I was feeling strong and sure it was only a long run. Thankfully no rivers, lakes, seas or anything faintly aquatic in sight. Some of us have to learn the hard way.
So I started my training doing mainly 8 to 10 mile runs. I decided to tackle a 20 mile run two weeks before the marathon and came through it in good condition but a little tired with a stiff and sore knee. However not being content with that I decided to do 24 miles the week before the marathon and ended up an even stiffer and sorer knee. The last 3 miles of that run were a bit slow but I was satisfied that I could do the distance. Those of you who have done a Marathon know just how stupid these long runs were so close to the big event. I had been pacing myself with my heart rate monitor and footpod and found it very hard to slow my pace down.
The week of the marathon I decided that I would only do a ten miler on Tuesday and an easy five miler on the Saturday and then rest up for the Monday.
The night before I sorted out all my gear, gels, ipod and even put a new battery in my footpod. Off to bed early and after some twisting and turning eventually nodded off for about 6 hours sleep.
At 5.30am on D-Day my alarm woke me up and I hopped out of bed ready for action. Coffee and Porridge to start the day and then I picked up two friends, Derek and Colm, who were also running. We had decided to park at the Red Cow and take the Luas into town. Colm was running for the Irish Heart Foundation in his second marathon and headed off to get his T Shirt. Myself and Derek were newbies and we went for a stroll around the Start Line, Finish Line and soaked in the atmosphere. It was freezing cold and the place was alive with people of all ages, sizes, nationalities and outfits. One group were wearing large adult nappies. I guess they were the competitive type who would not be stopping to use the portaloos. Cathriona McKiernan, eat your heart out! One guy was wearing a tiger striped tri-suit with matching body paint and dodgy ginger hair. There is a picture in the Independent.
After changing into my TRILOGY top and runners and dropping off the bag I parted company with Derek and headed off to my start position. The numbers were building and people began casting off hats, gloves, t-shirts and plastic sacks. The sense of excitement was amazing. A massive crowd of 13,000 people crammed into a confined space. It was electric.
I decided to switch on my footpod. No joy. Tried again. The guy beside me questioned the wisdom of bending over in a large crowd. The guy behind me said I wasn't his type. Steady on lads, save your energy. Anyway the footpod was not working, the battery was dead. Pacing was going to be a bit of an issue so I decided that I would stick with the official pacers who were carrying large balloons. The 3.15 balloon was nearby so problem solved.
Amhrán na Bhfiann was blasted out by the Garda band and then we were off.
Well not quite, the guys at the very front were off and we had to wait a minute or so before we got going. The guys at the very back must have been waiting a long time. Off we went all keen as mustard. It was very civilised. No elbowing or pushing and nobody trying to swim over you. In no time we were passing Trinity College and then onto O’Connell Street and had passed the first mile. There were massive crowds cheering us on and bands playing on the side of the road. It was a carnival atmosphere.
I was not expecting the pace to be as quick for the start but everyone was trying to find more space and it took a couple of miles for people to spread out. There was a chap in front of me who looked like he was going to collapse as he had a very exaggerated body and arm motion. I decided to give him a wide berth lest he took me down with him. I could not see any mileage markers but we were soon at the first water station on the NCR which I knew was at Mile 3.
Into the Phoenix Park and the road got narrow and the company got more intimate. I opted for the grass. The roads were lined with people in the Park. Chesterfield Avenue in particular. Unbelieveable support and quite a few people on Bikes from Wicklow, Pulse and other clubs cheering on runners. About half way through the Park between Miles 6 and 7 my right knee started giving me jip and I dropped the pace and took on a gel. Tasted like raspberry jam. Yum.
The knee had been a problem in training and tendonitis is common when you up your mileage in a short period of time. According to John's Book you should only increase the mileage by 10% per week. I kept going and reasoned that I would either run it off or have to stop.
Spoke to a chap from Cork and another from Sligo who noticed the hobble. One had taken Difene that morning for the same problem. After a mile or so the knee stopped throbbing and I started pushing on. I caught the two lads and had a great chat until we hit a hill at Chapelizod and then Inchicore and the lads dropped back. Feeling really good at this stage and was taking on lucozade sport and took a gel at the 1 hour 20 minute mark. However by mile 12 my legs started getting heavy and all those that I had passed started passing me. Not wanting to sound arrogant but this was a new and very humbling experience for me. I am not used to being passed on the run and have always felt that was my strongest suit in triathlons. Hundreds of people passed me before I got to the Finish Line and fair play to them. Old and young, male and female, big and small and even the guy with the tiger tri suit!
I was not seeing the mileage markers which was beginning to bug me as I was not quite sure where I was and was trying to do mental calculations of time and distance to work out my pace. The signs were particularly small but the large crowds and huge number of runners made it hard. I passed the half way mark at Walkinstown and was 1 hour and 35 minutes. Not too shabby but I knew the second half was going to be a struggle as the long run last week had caught up with me.
The crowds around Crumlin and Walkinstown were great. Yet another band on the side of the road. God they must be hoarse with all the shouting. The encouragement and support was phenomenal.
I was still ahead of the 3.15 group but I knew they could not be too far behind. I was taking on water at every water station now as the tummy was a little bit off. I had brought an ipod but I had not even turned it on. But as lethargic as I was feeling I wanted to move it on and decided to listen to some AC/DC to try and up the tempo. However no dice, my legs told my head that they were in charge now and we were staying in second gear and that was it.
Up through Templeogue and Terenure and again the crowds were brilliant. The amount of people offering jellybeans and sweets to the runners was amazing. I was finding that I was seeing the same people pass and then drop back and I began seeing some walkers. I vowed that no matter what I was not walking. It was sorely tempting but I knew that my knee would stiffen up if I did. We all went through Milltown then Clonskeagh and started heading towards Roebuck. We passed the west gate of my alma mater and I knew that once I got over Roebuck Hill it was all downhill save the flyover at the UCD east gate.
The 3.15 group had caught me at this stage and I had been sticking with them since before Milltown but they were beginning to drop me. And drop me they did just before Fosters Avenue. That was a bit demoralising as 3.15 had been my target time but I had cleared the 20 mile mark and I knew that 3.15 was out of my reach on this time. I found the hill down Fosters Avenue a bit uncomfortable but it wasn't long until I was on the Stillorgan road and heading for RTE. All the runners were cutting the corners over the flyover at UCD but I couldn't face jumping up or down off kerbs and stuck to the roads with certain smug feeling of sticking to the course. I had also been avoiding every manhole cover on the road. I was really tempted to start walking at this stage but I was only a few short miles from home and kept the head down.
The long stretch along Merrion Road, Shelbourne Road and then onto Grand Canal Street was tough. A lot of people were passing me including the guy who I thought was going to collapse before the Phoenix Park. Maith an buachaill. Again the crowds were fantastic but I must admit that I questioned what the hell I was putting myself through this for on several occasions. I tried to get a couple of walkers to get going but most were knackered but one or two came with me and kept going. Onto Pearse Street and I knew I was in the last mile.
There was a massive crowd at Trinity including Tim Don's best friend Mr Johnathan Robinson. I am still deaf in my left ear from all the encouragement. Cheers J. As I came onto Nassau Street I knew it was a straight run all the way in. The crowds kept you going and the road began narrowing towards the end. People were still passing me and I decided that it would have to be a sprint finish over the last 50 metres as I was fed up of being passed. Off I went with high knees and arms and my hamstrings screaming from the abuse. God I love the blue carpet.
Hallelujah. That was it. I had done my first marathon. I was exhilarated, wrecked, sad, glad and proud. I even remembered to stop my stopwatch. 3.23.27. Hands were shook left right and centre and I went to collect my medal and goody bag. Water and stretches was all that was on my mind. I eventually crashed on the pavement with two chaps from England and the North and we devoured our goody bags and then tried to get back on our feet. The knee had stiffened up but I did not care. Warm clothes and food were the next items on the agenda and I hobbled off towards Grafton Street with a chap from Slane who was also hobbling. Texts and Calls were flying in and out. Met up with Colm and Derek and decided on Burger King as Bewleys was too packed and none of us fancied the stairs. I am blaming Simon for giving me bad habits in Budapest.
The hobble to the Luas was uncomfortable but we got home in one piece. Karl was right about the stairs in my office, it was not very nice the next day but thankfully I spent most of the day in court sitting down. Strangely enough my feet have come through the experience very well. Praise be to my Asics Nimbus Gel 12's and my 1000 mile socks. No blisters, no soreness despite no Vaseline. Can't praise the gear highly enough.
I can thoroughly recommend the experience to anyone, runner or walker, it is amazing. But treat it with more respect than I did. Proper preparation is essential and a proper phased build up is required. I would not bother with an Ipod. You are never alone. The crowd is phenomenal. Roll on the next one. Did someone say Ironman? Just don't tell the missus.
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Dublin City Marathon - My First
