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2013; Eat my dust Meno!
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RacoonQueen wrote: »Well done again missus - some celebratin' you did last night.
...from her high stool
Well done CL, great run. Hope the hangover has masked the sore legs
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I followed Fagan... and then I kicked his a*s!!
Right so – by way of warning, I am writing this as much for my own sake and posterity and I can sense already that it’s going to be lengthy so if you have important things to do but still want to read, I suggest you go and come back with a cup of hot chocolate before bed – I’d say it’ll help the insomniacs out there too.
A little bit of background…
I ran my first marathon, being the full marathon in Connemara, back in April in a time of 4.28.25. All of the advice I got was to simply enjoy it as I’d never to get to run my first marathon again. So that’s what I did. And I loved it despite the tough course. The first thing I wanted to do when I crossed the finish line was to run another one. I almost got sucked into running Cork but sense prevailed and I decided to hold out for Dublin. In the meantime, I set some other goals such as breaking 50 for 10k, breaking 40 for 5 miles, getting a HM PB. I still haven’t reached one of these targets.
18 weeks ago, I started following P&D’s >55mpw plan. It was going ok until about 9 weeks in when I just started to crash and burn big time. Everything was becoming a struggle. The legs were pure wrecked all of the time. The breathing was shot when I was running. I put it all down to the training and pretty much ignored my body which was giving me all the signs of something being wrong and not functioning. Thereafter, I ran bad race after bad race. I struggled to run 90 minutes in the series 10 miler having easily run that in Mallow the week before Connemara. I couldn’t break 25 in the Rathfarnhman 5k which should have been a walk in the park. I missed a PB in the series Half by about 30 seconds having pushed myself to the limit and crossing the line in teeny tiny little pieces.
The Half was the final straw. I was distraught and just couldn’t figure it out. Any hope of breaking 4 hours in DCM were well and truly down the swanny. It was obvious that something wasn’t right so I took a visit to the doc; which is when the low iron levels were discovered. Ok, at least there was a reason but I’d left it too late (big lesson learned there) to do anything about it. I was put on a very high dose of iron which was really nasty on my tummy
and ruined a few runs in itself. Though I did start to feel so much better pretty quickly. At this stage I decided that I’d be able to trot around Dublin in 4.15, enjoy the day, get the t-shirt and have the craic after. I forgot about attempting to break 4 and decided I’d look at it again in the New Year. A week away in the sun, followed by a week with 3 / 4 good runs, followed by a really enjoyable final LSR with the group, put me back in good spirits and I was looking forward to DCM again. Cue the little demons in my head suggesting that breaking 4 hours was within my capability and touch. I tried my damndest to ignore them and refused to say out loud that I might go for it. Secretly I was planning on it but really worried about the consequences if it turned out to be a bad move.
The important stuff…
Headed into the Expo on Saturday with Digdig to pick up numbers and enough gels to get a small army through multiple marathons. Had decided I didn’t want to run with my hydration belt which holds a 750ml camelbak bottle and had really annoyed me on my last 20miler. So I picked up a simple gel belt and was happy that there would be sufficiently frequent water stations with water in small bottles en route. Obviously I would never encourage anyone to change their strategies the day before a marathon but why would I listen to my own advice?! A quick trip to the t-shirt printer to pick up my Fagan work of art and home to the couch for a dvd, a feed of pasta and half a bottle of red wine…whoops. Had a nice lie-in on Sunday with the having hour gone back and did very little for the rest of the day. Sunday night’s sleep was alright, it could have been better but at least it was better than Digdig’s.
Was up bright and early on Sunday morning for a cup of tea and a bowl of porridge. Had drank an ample amount to hydrate me the day before and literally couldn’t have taken another mouthful of water. Headed into town on the luas at about 8.40am. Had an argument with the manager in Burger King on Grafton Street who wouldn’t let me use the bathroom. Dropped off the bags after some Vaseline application. Queued for and used the portaloos. I don’t know how I was still needing the toilet! Got stuck in throngs of people in the lane at McGrattans and couldn’t get out onto the square. The nerves were really starting to take hold. I needed to pee again (ffs!) and I was terrified that I wouldn’t get out to start with the 4 hour pacers. Aaaargh.
Eventually we started moving and I turned onto Fitzwilliam Square in a blind panic looking for the black balloons. I saw them in the distance and started weaving like a maniac to try get to them. And then they started moving. What to do? Try and catch up the few hundred metres and risk blowing up one mile in? Keep the same distance between them for the rest of the race? What if I did the latter and started to lose pace and then I have to just watch them float away into the distance; out of my sight forever. So I decided to go with the first option and catch them. I think I caught Oisin around Dawson Street and Meno figured I’d banked a minute on 4 hours by the time we got to College Green. This was a little reassuring but I decided I didn’t want to be relying on that minute so I forgot about it.
The first few miles were pretty congested and it was warm out there. I was enjoying the banter with the pacers and their groupies and didn’t notice the early miles passing at all. We got into the park where there was a much welcomed breeze and a breath of fresh air. It was all going great. I was very comfortable and not looking at the Garmin at all. Hit the 5 mile mark feeling like I hadn’t even started the race. Took a gel between 5 and 6 miles, and everything continued on grand. At about 6.5 miles I was feeling great and considered leaving the pacers. Then I copped on and remembered there were still 20 more to go and it would have been fairly ridiculous to do anything other than stick with the guys for another 10 miles at least. At this stage the miles were just ticking by, each one as comfortable as the last. I stepped out ahead of the pacers at about 10 miles to take another gel and get some space. The crowds that were following them made it difficult to relax, so keeping just ahead of them took away the worry of falling over someone else’s feet. Was chatting with Meno up to the halfway mark and got a PB time for a half by my Garmin but that wasn’t the official result and I was told it didn’t count! I was happy out up through Walkinstown but had a little worry in the back of my head as Meno said he found that stretch particularly difficult and I knew I was coming up to where Digger had struggled last year. So I was expecting to hit a bad spot there too. I didn’t! Turned onto Fortfield Road where once again the crowds and support were amazing. I knew my friends would be around Bushy Park so I pushed on ahead of the pacers keeping my eyes peeled for my personal groupies. Saw them right at the corner and it was a huge boost. There were a couple of roars and high fives and then they were gone. I was smiling the whole way down the Templeogue Road (lovely road surface there you know; great for the knees ). And then I heard the wee Spagbol shouting me down…”Fagan!!” Marty Morrissey nearly got a CL style thump coming into Terenure Village where he was trying to pull people off the course for interviews. When he went for me, he clearly did not know what he doing, nor did he value his life, or his precious botoxed face.
At this stage I was making a couple of steps on the pacers with every mile though I was keeping them within sight over my shoulder. I was terrified that my body was teasing me that I could push on and then it would come back to bite me in another few miles. Kept ticking off the miles nice and steady with Spagbol. There was a nice downhill coming into Milltown that I would have taken advantage had I not known the toughest part of the course was still to come. As we were going by Alexandra College, someone shouted that we had 4 hours in the bag. Spagbol refuted that immediately and said it was far too early for that fightin talk. I knew he was right but we had about 2 minutes up on the 4 hour pacers at this stage and I was starting to think I really really really wanted to break 4 now. I put the head down for the little hill in Milltown – it’s all flat if you just look at the ground eh Meno?!. That was all good. It was a very comfortable trot down to the Eglington Road junction, where Spagbol lost it and nearly decked a cyclist who was feeding bananas to his missus on the road coming around a tight corner. You’d really have to wonder about the mental ages and capability of some people. I think there was a gel consumed around here too.
This was the part I’d been dreading. You hear so much about the drag and the hill and the pain. There were people stopping to stretch, walking, passed out on the side of the road… Met Pistol around UCD and really wanted to give him a boost to stick with us but his poor feets were not behaving – so sorry buddy! Was determined to get Spagbol up and around by the Mosque on 2 feet as this was his demon having been pulled off the road with a broken rib last year. He didn’t need me at all! I didn’t remember the road up to ‘Heartbreak Hill’ being so long but we eventually came around to the final push and it was ‘head down, power on’. I couldn’t believe how well I was feeling. And knowing that the tough part (terrain wise!) was over was amazing. Met Vagga around Fosters Avenue and his stinky knee was acting up which was such a shame – fair play for carrying on though pal, that took a lot! Met Jcsmum around here too and I’m absolutely delighted for her and her great result. As we crossed the flyover at UCD, the 4hour pacers were just coming down the N11 behind us so I allowed myself think about and enjoy the thoughts of breaking 4 hours properly and for the first time. The words from the wise were to keep it steady until RTE at least. and not to make drastic moves too early. I listened. I had picked up water at all of the water stations and been very diligent in sipping little and often. Grabbed a jelly baby from some germy hand on Nutley Avenue –still standing so I’m guessing it wasn’t too germy. I took my fourth and final gel at about 23 miles. I didn’t feel like I needed it but the tummy was feeling fine so I figured it wouldn’t do any harm. Even writing this now and thinking back, I still cannot believe how well and strong I felt. I just remembered that someone whacked Spagbol in the stomach in Ballsbridge…what was that about?! I decided to keep it steady until the 25 mile mark and then ramp it up. Coming around onto Pearse Street, Spaggers shouted at me to go on (I thought he was giving me my moment of glory but it turns out he couldn’t keep up with me! Haha).
The crowds at this point were amazing. I was running stronger than I have done, possibly ever. Got a shout out from one of my mates as I came around by Trinity and that put a huge smile on my face – one which I’m still wearing. Was absolutely pushing everything I had down Nassau Street – I heard one woman shouting ‘Ah would you look at her, she’s delighted!’ – damn right I was. I overtook loads of people on the finishing straight to finish with a time of 3.53.23 (average pace 8.48) on my Garmin and a distance of 26.59 miles. Seriously the grin on my face in my finisher’s video is ridiculous. Was delighted to see Shaz and get my medal! For once I was the one making ground and passing people by. I think I was literally passing people the entire time. I’m not gloating; I am merely consumed in my memories of the day and still can not believe a minute of it! I do not know where it came from. I’ve allowed myself to revel in my result – I couldn’t have planned or dreamed for a better day and I am utterly ecstatic with what I achieved. I set out to enjoy a 4.10 marathon, I secretly knew I‘d love to break 4 hours but was worried about the pain that would be involved in it and I ended up absolutely surprising myself and everyone else and smashing it! It feels so good to be writing a positive report after all of the negative ones recently.
Official Results:
Chip Time: 3.53.30
Place Overall: 3815
Place in Cat: 297
5 Mile Time: 47.06
1st Half Time: 2.01.11
20 Mile Time: 3.02.53
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Lads, the report is about to be pasted from the word document I’ve been working on. It’s long… I’m a little worried. Whoops.. And apologies in advance! :rolleyes:Dear God, you weren't kidding...I'll read it from start to finish at the next Bank Holiday weekend
Ok, I read it...Brilliant report and amazing achievement! The guys looking after the DCM Novice thread (Raycun and mr slow) should have all their guys read this race report for inspiration for next year! Well done again 0 -
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Well done Missus, I always had faith in you, you were doing too much training not to be getting the results you deserved. You must let us all know what those Iron tablets are that you're on, I reckon we could all do with them!!
So I make it you ran 1:54:20 for the 2nd half, and you can call that an official PB But i am certain you'll be taking another 10 minutes off that in waterford 0 -
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What a report. Its really inspired me. Seriously, you have come so so far, now i know its possible. You finished in an amazing time. You must be walking around with a massive grin on your face this week. Fair play girl. Sorry I didnt get to speak to you properly in the pub. You were way too far away for me to reach comfortably (3 yards) 0
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