It’s only Sunday but I couldn’t contain myself. The Half Marathon is now consigned to history, a bucket list entry with a tick beside it.
I was up by 7am, a full three and half hours before the start of the race. I turned on the immersion and ate my normal breakfast of muesli, mixed seeds and a banana, all floating in a generous quantity of semi skimmed milk. I recommend you stick to your normal breakfast on race days. No point in risking illness or an upset stomach while running.
The weather was just perfect for running this morning. It was a sunny day with no rain forecast and the temperature predicted to be between 7 -10 degrees so little risk of sunburn. No wind either. Wind can be a significant factor and running into a head wind is to be avoided.
I enjoyed a nice shower and then made the final choices about the clothes to wear. I ditched the strapped pouch across the chest idea as it moved about too much when running. I ditched the idea of carrying water as there would be five water stations on the 21.1 kilometre route. I went for a phone arm strap and took some chocolate and two moist dried prunes for that refuelling over the closing kilometres.
We got to the town by 9.30am and found parking easy enough as we had an hour to go before the start of the race. We nipped up to the Tesco’s restaurant for coffee (caffeine boost) and the use of their toilets which were clean and unoccupied. Hydrating before a race generally leads to a thousand people searching out for toilets and long queues for the events temporary toilets so getting in and out of toilets an hour before the off was a great idea.
Standing around before the race is generally a cold and uncomfortable experience. We cut the time to a minimum by staying away until only 20 minutes before the start and my wife took all the spare jumpers and tops from the runners with minutes to go, so it worked well.
The first half marathon runners left at 10.30am and we saw them sprinting up the road like gazelles racing away from a pride of tigers. John had run this race last year so I stuck close to him and his mantra of taking it slowly for the first few kilometres. In amongst the runners were three pace runners. They ran with the time they were paced for, say 2 hours, 2 hours 10 minutes and 1 hour 50 minutes, written on their backs. They also flew yellow balloons above their heads with the same information so if your target was to come home in two hours you just made sure you kept your eyes on that balloon. It was a great idea and gave me comfort during the run.
This race started close to the harbour and steadily rose up as the road headed out of town. At about 2k we forked right off the dual carriageway and began a 5k gradual climb which sorted the runners out, the fun run guys & gals from the more serious ones. Gaps appeared. John and I climb at different speeds so I lost touch with him for a lot of the climb but we reunited and alongside the 2 hour balloon pace runner we entered the Johnstown Park at about 8k. Unfortunately for the pacer, the 2 hour balloon had deflated and so he dragged the soggy little wrinkly yellow balloon in his wake. But he often shouted out his times and alerted those around him so he did a great job. I did suggest he could try to blow it up but he didn’t warm to the idea.
At this stage I was still capable of conversation and chatted away to other runners as we passed the lake and then the castle both inside the park. It was exhilarating jogging along and feeling in control, comfortable within a sea of runners. I met up a mother of three who was flying (without the three) to Boston, USA tomorrow thanks to a short notice €200 seat from a girlfriend who was in an airline cabin crew. She had a knee problem and wasn’t sure she could complete the run so we discussed her options before parting.
Further on, after we had exited the park, I met a group of runners that I stuck with when I crossed into new territory. I’d never run 16k before and having blurted it out got a round of applause for doing so. People are so positive and supportive on these runs. I applauded the people who bothered to turn out and stand at the side of the road to applaud us. So many families stood applauding with young children who were waving posters and drawings, it was all quite humbling.
By 18k I was beginning to lose that sparkly chatty frame of mind. It was getting harder to keep going. But my mood was lifted by a friendly Sicilian archaeologist called Stefano whose pace matched mine perfectly and we fell into a rhythm that suited us both. His brother and wife, he explained were back in the race behind us and he was visiting Ireland and staying with them. He seemed overdressed for the run wearing jogging bottoms and a rain mack but he explained, in Sicily he regularly runs in temperatures of 32 degrees or more so here, it’s cold for him. We ran on, ticking off the remaining kilometres in a steady if laboured motion. Another water station loomed up and another one or two mouthfuls of water made it down my throat, before discarding the bottle. At 19k I pulled out my dried prunes and tried to eat one. It stuck to the roof of my mouth and I struggled to swallow it. Maybe 5 minutes passed before it was gone.
At 20k we were both working hard to keep the rhythm going, to keep the legs turning to bring us home. We passed a couple who’d stopped, the girl clearly in some distress, only 6 minutes from the end. Finally I could hear the megaphone of the commentator who was at the finishing line and naming the runners as they poured in. It lifted my spirits and suddenly we were back in the town, running past the terraced homes on the narrow streets, past the applauding spectators. “Go on Stefano” I said, “Don’t wait for me – go for it”. He made a burst for the line at about 100 metres out but eased off. I felt a surge of energy and saw a chance to beat him to it so off I went. I shot past him and for a second I thought I’d hold onto it but he had more in the tank (and probably the advantage of 25 years or more on me) and responded to my challenge. He finished a few strides ahead of me. On the other side of the line we embraced each other like brothers. We grinned warmly at each other before taking a swig of the water bottles and parting to go our separate ways.
Standing behind the metal barrier my wife caught my eye and she took a snap of this sap with his purple medal, his water and his banana. It kind of summed me up. I never truly believed I could do this and yet here I am, with it done.
If you ask me how I’d done it I’d say hard work and mind over matter. I refused to give in to myself and my negative thoughts. I proved them wrong. I did it, but not in a foolhardy way. I wore a heart rate monitor on the run and I respected its warnings, easing off at times when it blipped a warning. But I kept going, kept believing deep down in my core self, that I would do it and I did.
Bucket list – Run half marathon 21.1k – result completed in 1 hour 56 minutes 38 seconds.
