It was cold October morning in Dublin City. The sky’s were clear at least but it was bitterly cold. My wave was the second last to go and I didn’t know this initially but the further back you wave is the longer you have to wait to get going. I was looking at a two hour wait in the freezing cold.
I left the hotel early and began to slowly walk down to the starting area. I hadn’t slept well the night before and could already feel the migraine coming on, the longer I waited the worst it got and by time they called our wave I was nauseous. I remember thinking “If I get sick now before it even begins I’m going to be in trouble” All the carb loading, all the hydration and the planning would be down the toilet. We started to walk down towards the start line and the sun came out from behind the clouds, I started to warm up and felt a bit better. A group of girls asked me to take their photo and one of them passed me their phone. I quickly focused it set the brightness and snapped a couple of shots and handed it back. “These are so good, can you a run with us take all our photos?” She joked. Are you like a photographer or something? Yeah something like that I replied.
There was a small group of supporters stood at the line with handwritten signs. I popped in my headphones, removed my old hoodie and threw in the pile with the other discarded clothes (turns out they donate these to charity) My music started and I went through my stretching routine, mentally preparing myself. Everyone started hopping up and down to warm up, you could feel the excitement building. The crowd started cheering, it was weird to me that I was being viewed as an athlete about attempt their goal.
The countdown started, the gun went off and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I remember thinking “this is actually happening, I’m actually attempting to run this distance” I set my pace, found my playlist on iTunes and settled in.
10km in and I felt good. The migraine was still there, in the background but the adrenaline and the crowd were blocking it out. The streets were lined with family members of the runners cheering It was still pretty early and the rest of the city hadn’t really woke up yet. The Phoenix Park stage was done and we were heading back into the city. I passed by some runners who were retiring already. Poor souls that had got something wrong. Mistakes were made either with training, nutrition maybe their hydration.
20km everything felt fine. My pace was conservative but that was okay. The important thing was that I felt okay so far. The crowds were bigger now and the route went past some of the older housing estates.
Little old ladies were stood outside of their front doors offering cups of tea and biscuits. I politely declined both. More people were retiring, pain etched all over faces. I had no aches or pains yet and my migraine was practically gone. I was really beginning to enjoy the event. Some of the crowd had homemade signs slogans such as “toenails are for losers”, “keep her lit” and “don’t trust a fart after 20k” flashed by the side of my vision.
30k. I remember running past the 30k marker and in my mind I performed a quick physical check. Ankles felt fine, knees were okay, quads and hams no problems. I still felt ok and the prospect of actually finishing this thing felt real. This is also where the real work began. You see things begin to feel different after running 30k. The small bones in your feet begin to ache and muscles you never normally have to worry about start to report pain. You can train to get yourself to this point but everything beyond here becomes a battle of will. My Bluetooth head phones died and switched to my back up headphones.
A guy in the crowd held up a large sign that read: “This is what you trained for” that resonated with me. At around the 35k point we were down on a main road. There was no crowd here, one lane was still open and cars whizzed by. The sun went behind some clouds I remember it got dark and cold. With no crowd to cheer us on things began to feel miserable.
There was a guy in front of me that was very clearly struggling. He was very tall, well over 6 feet and struggling to put one foot in front of the other. His height only served to frame his struggle. I knew it was cramp Id been there and i knew how it felt. It’s not that it’s just pain that prevents you from moving it’s just that the muscles in your legs seize and no matter what you do they won’t work again. I checked my pockets, I had two energy gels remaining and I knew I would only need one more to finish this. As I passed by him I tapped him gently on the back and passed him a gel. I shouted something like you’ll be okay! But that was a lie. I didn’t know if he would be okay or not and I was only trying to make him feel better. I don’t even know if he replied to me because I never took my headphones out. I just patted him on the shoulder in that “there there mate” way that people do and I carried on. I don’t know if he ever made it to the finishing line.
40k: I remember that at 30k I told myself just 10 more and at 35k I told myself just another 5k more so it came as a surprise to my glycogen starved brain that I wasn’t yet finished when I passed the marker. There were ambulances parked at the side of the road taking people away on stretchers. First aid workers were tending to runners on the side of the road, some were having their legs and joints stretched out in an attempt to get them moving again.
That last 2.195 km are the longest. They felt never ending. I ran through the last water station and for the first time I slowed down to walk. I downed the entire bottle and tried to run on. Nothing happened, so I tried again… Nope still only walking. I had to have a stern talk with myself and reminded myself that I didn’t come this far to just come this far. Reluctantly I started a slow run again.
Strangers high fived me and told me “you got this” and “you look great”. I didn’t. I looked like shit and felt like it too. The barriers began to appear again. The crowd was getting heavy and the end was in sight. I checked the crowd and near the end I could see my wife and daughter. They were screaming excitedly. I was never so relived to see them. I ran over and hugged them. My wife asked if I was okay and I shouted something like “I’m about to finish a fucking marathon”. (I never normally swear in front of the kids but the emotion got the better of me).
I ran on and crossed the line. The crowd was loud and a guy with a microphone announced runners as they finished. I was hit with a wave of relief. I tried to slow down and I couldn’t. I had been running so long my body was locked in a running pattern and didn’t want to stop. A lady at the end put a medal on me and handed me a goody bag. I was numb, my fingers had lost all feeling and I struggled to take it from her. I walked on a bit and found small wall to sit on and phone my wife. It felt amazing to be sitting, eventually she found me. I was walking in the wrong direction and disoriented.
We slowly walked back to the hotel through the city. I tried to take my medal off. My wife told me to put it back on. “You should be proud to wear it, this is your moment and you earned it” she said. She was right. We arrived at the hotel, guests in the lobby looked at me with concern before reading my race number and realising what had happened. I took my medal off, put it on my daughter and carried her through the lobby. They had food and refreshments set up in the hotel lobby for race finishers. I sipped water, I had no apatite so i couldn’t stomach anything solid yet. My daughter ate my granola bar, still looking at me with mild confusion.
On the drive home I fell asleep in the passenger seat. When I got home I took the best hot shower ever. The feeling of relief that it was over was like no other. That evening I ate like my life depended on it, I can’t recall ever being so hungry and I slept like a baby. I had finally answered that can i? Question I had been asking myself.
I decided I would give my finishers medal to my mother. When I was a kid I wasn’t the academic type and never really brought home anything from school worth displaying. Her fridge door was barren of any good test results for so many years that I felt it was an overdue accomplishment to be proud of. Something to point at and tell visitors about.
Honestly it was all about the experience and answering the big can you finish it question for me anyway. Anytime I see the medal it never really gives me any sense of accomplishment. Overall running a marathon is amazing experience. I think virtually anyone can finish it if they put in the training. Ironically some of the long runs in training are the worst and I felt worse the next day after some of those then the actual marathon.
If you are thinking of doing one my advice would be this: Do it but do it 100%, if you try to cut corners in training those short comings will come back to haunt you in the actual event. The training is probably the hardest part and always remember that pain is only temporary, pride lasts forever.
Belt.