Eye of the Tiger Beer.

DNF. Ran out of energy, couldn't get restarted. I neglected to mention that I've had a cold for the last few days... plenty of time for the post-mortem, right now a beer sounds good

So... the first race I've ever not-PBed and DNFed! Fun times!

I might have slightly neglected to have informed avid followers of this log that I picked up a cold about 4 days ago. I was kind of in denial. It wasn't a "man-flu" by any means, just some minor sniffles and generally feeling lethargic and crappy. My last run on Thursday was quite phlegmy, and I felt pretty run down. A sore-er calf than usual made things worse on the day, but I put it down to taper syndrome and moved on.

Thing was though, I didn't really move on. I was freaked out. I didn't really sleep much over the last few days - after midnight to 5 or so for the last few days. I was waking up involuntarily and worrying about the marathon. This level of negative obsession hasn't really happened before. I knew it wasn't healthy, but I didn't really feel in control of it and just let my nervous energy bleed out over social media / boards / etc.

Come Sunday morning, I felt *relatively* good. I had a lot of nervous energy, but was genuinely feeling ok and focussed on the race. Getting to the race was idyllic - I got a taxi from Swords and watched an amazing sunrise from the motorway while chatting to the driver. Once in town I ended up having to get dressed in an alleyway (my office was meant to be open, but wasn't), and made my way towards the start. I had to queue for 30 minutes or so to take off my underwear underneath my racing shorts at the penultimate jacks before the start line. I got out of the jacks at 8.52 and made my way towards the front. I didn't get near the 3.10 pacers, who were very close to the 3.00 and 3.20 balloons. I was pretty sure it'd work itself out over the first mile or whatever so didn't really care.

The start (7:30, 6:46, 7:12)

Things were pretty exciting at the start, the crowds were great, the weather was amazing... and most importantly my calf wasn't very sore. I had a slight ache, but it wasn't getting worse and was barely worth thinking about. I skipped around a load of slowcoaches, made my way past the 3:20 pacers and said hello to TFGR before heading up towards Christchurch. Plunging down to the Liffey wasn't very comfortable, but I was nicely placed in between the pacer groups where I had wanted to be. I slowly made up ground to the 3:10 pacers over the next while, feeling comfortable.

The park (6'57, 7'09, 7'10)

Things were very busy entering the park and swinging around the zoo. I was glad to get out to Chesterfield where I could have a bit of room and enjoy the run a bit. Again, the support and weather was amazing. I caught up to the 3:10 pacers and settled into a slower pace to just stay behind them. This felt great! I waved at AMK as he made his way to his long run, skipped over the cobblestones on one of the roundabouts and felt like I'd survived most of the climb ok. I was feeling a little sweatier than expected, but nothing too bad.

Up and down (7'22, 6'57, 7'11, 6'56)

Heading up to Castleknock I took my first gel while imbibing the incredible support. I intended to take this easy... but in reality I kept the 3:10 pacers pretty close, maybe 20 metres or so off them. Once we rounded Myos I caught up with them a bit more, and I enjoyed the downhill here. Once in the park again I was struck by the amazing view of the park and city with the beautiful sun in the sky... The pacer's balloon burst here, to many groans from our group. I started to feel a bit of stiffness in my left leg on the way down, and a general feeling of working a little hard here. When exiting the park I felt a bit tired, and started to get a little worried.

The wheels fall off (7'27, 9'19)

Up into the southside... I took the two hills as slow as I could, but they both wrecked me. I walked after the second one and got my breath back. I got back into the pace, and did alright for a bit, meeting jake briefly and exchanging good wishes and tales of woe, but it didn't take long for me to need another rest. Once up the hill after Kilmainham I popped into one of the toilets and tried to get my **** together. 3:10 was clearly slipping away now, but I still wanted to keep going. I told myself to get to half way and see how things were then. I met the gal who I'd ran most of the 3/4 marathon with and ran with her for a minute, explained that I was in trouble and let her go ahead (she finished in 3:15).

DNF-ing (7'51, ...)

Right, one more go. I went over to the path and let myself have full recovery. It felt like hours, but was probably only a minute or two. The 3:20 group started to go on by, and I couldn't respond to the pace at all. I was done. My left leg started getting a little stiff, my stomach was starting to have a bit of a stitch and I was starting to hyperventilate a little... I went over half way with 1:37 on the clock. I figured I could run-walk the next 13.1 miles or so, and come in under a credible time (sub-4?) but it'd be a ****show. My head was gone, and my body was going. I didn't feel motivated to keep going at all - finishing up now and being able to get back running in a few days was more attractive than thrashing myself to finish a very below par marathon and possibly damaging my calf/cold/whatever. At the Crumlin hospital I strolled off the course and started walking down a very, very long road back into town. I tried to do a bit of jogging to keep warm, but it was really tough.

DNFed

It took me nearly an hour to get back into town. I chatted to a few folks on the way back in, spectators looking for the finish area. I took out the 20 euro that I'd pessimistically wrapped in clingfilm and tucked into my racing shorts and got a coffee at a garage on the canal. Once I reached the bag area a few 2:30/2:40 finishers were collecting their gear, and the bag person assumed I was one and congratulated me when I picked up my bag

I rang my wife, and she was a bit upset to receive a call a good 15 minutes before I should be finishing. I met up with her and got a little emotional, and headed straight to McGrattan's. From there on it was a downward spiral of beer drinking and socialising... ignoring my terrible predicament I had a great time, chatting to many folks from these parts and slowly getting quite drunk. After feeling a little wobbly I got the good sense to finally go home.

What went wrong?
I was ill and tired, and tried to pretend I wasn't. It's incredibly clear from the HRM data that I wasn't in a good place starting off - I was at 170+ consistently from the start, which is where I got to *eventually* at the 3/4 marathon and got nowhere near in my last 22 mile run:
https://www.strava.com/activities/760332565
https://www.strava.com/activities/731842146
https://www.strava.com/activities/739194241

Maybe I should have copped on to the fact that I was in trouble sooner. I'm not sure that if I'd slowed down to, say, 3:20 pace sooner that I'd have run a good marathon from then. That said, in retrospect I probably should have not gone for the YOLO approach and run a more appropriate pace - easy to say now though!

I'm glad I didn't thrash myself. I left the course in one piece and not hating running. I'll probably take a few days off to make sure the damn calf heals itself and then get back into somewhat structured running. Thanks all for the support before, during and after, it's really appreciated. Today could have been a lot worse, and I stopped it before it got too bad. I guess that's not a bad day. Still kind of heartbreaking though

Splits:
10k - 44:29
13.1 - 1:37:08

tang1 wrote: »

Hard luck B, if you had been fully fit you were my banker from Boards to hit there goal time. Take the appropriate time off to let the calf recover and go again. You done the smart thing in pulling the plug on it, could have done yourself serious harm. Barcelona is nice in March I believe!!!!

Thanks! Definitely no regrets for pulling the plug. Barcelona was mentioned a few times in the pub alright