This week has been all about the preparation, not so much the running, ( I did two light runs 4ks and 6ks) but nutrition and hydration. What to eat, when to eat and how much to drink. How am I feeling, did I run far enough, have I rested enough. I’m pretty sure I ran the race three times over on Friday night. Didn’t sleep much! I eventually came to the conclusion I had done everything I could, it was now a matter of go and do it.
Standing at the start line this morning I felt confident in making the distance but still had those same feelings I had just prior to jumping out of a plane. “What the hell am I doing here? And how do I get out of it? But again I had come too far to go back out. There was only one way to go and that was forwards.
When I said, I was standing on the start line, we were actually in a crowd of 12,000 people, some 200 odd metres behind the line. As I looked around there were all shapes and sizes, a myriad of colours and a variety of ages, and that was just the gear everyone had. I estimated there would be about $5M of sporting apparel cross the start line. (That’s just the way my mind works, everything comes down to the numbers). If you add the thousands of i products that came along for the ride, you could probably double that figure.
It took almost five minutes to cross the start line once the gun had gone off. The first 2 or 3 ks was shoulder to shoulder, jostling for a bit of clear space ahead of you. The pace was quite slow through all this, which actually worked out well as most of it was uphill. At this stage it was a bit of an obstacle course, not only did you need to focus on the runners all around but the traffic islands and speed bumps, even the reflectors in the road were a trap for ankles. Worst of all though was the water stations, not only did you have to negotiate the people weaving in and out, but the carpet of disposable cups for 100mtrs after each station
At this point the enormity of the crowd became obvious. There were bodies the entire width of the road as far as the eye could see. I thought I managed to pass a lot of people, but it was still much the same two hours later. I felt a little insignificant as I looked around the other runners. I never had any writing on my shirt! I wasn’t a member of a club, sponsored by anyone, running for a cause, not even “doing it for the kids”. I was just all about me.
I felt pretty good through the first half of the event, out St Kilda Rd and heading around Albert Park Lake, but it was still pleasing to come round the far end of the lake and go through the 10k marker, now you were heading for home. It was a bit difficult to take in the scenery around the lake, pit lane or various stadiums you just had to focus on the job in front of you.
Turning back onto St Kilda Rd, about 14ks down, you knew you were into the final stages. The crowds had built up around this area and were cheering and clapping. I wondered of it was just that moment that they saw someone they knew, or were they prepared to do that for two hours.
About 15ks the legs started to go a bit rubbery. Another magic energy gel at this point would hopefully get me home. At about this point they sent us on some detour, under the arts centre and around the domain. I didn’t think that was the shortest way to the finish. Eventually back over Princess Bridge and down through Birrung Marr. Now for the one I had been fearing for weeks. William Barrack Bridge, a nasty long climb up and over our starting point, not a great thing this close to the finish.
With less than one km to go I had one eye on the clock and the other looking for the finish line. I still had a little bit left so was able to make a bit of a surge to the finish. Still feeling pretty good, but the elation of crossing the line took out anything I might have left in the legs. It was a wobbly walk until my personal crowd gave me a big cheer about 50mtrs after the finish line. The satisfaction of collecting my “participation medal” was almost matched by getting a water and a banana.
Six months ago I had to nominate an expected finish time and suggested two hours, not knowing whether I could even run the distance let alone make any time. Today I had completed the 21.1km in 1:59:34, just under my goal. (For those into the stats, that’s 5:33 per km or 10.6kph). For the record I was 2859th Male and 280th in my category.
I’m not exactly sure now why I set this to be the major challenge of my last days as a forty something, but I was ecstatic with the day’s events, even thrilled with the way I had run. No injuries, nothing ached, no lasting ill effects. This was the perfect run in beautiful conditions and will certainly be an achievement I’ll dine out on for a long time.
By the way, the two people that inspired all this running two years ago also did the half with me yesterday. Both achieved great times of 1:43 and 2:34. Sill being inspirational, but curse them anyway.
Now, late on Sunday I think I’ve pulled up pretty well, a bit stiff but nothing too painful. I may still be running on an emotional high that might come crashing down in the next couple of days.
I have been asked several times already, What’s next?
Come back next year and do the full? Nah, been there (1/2) done that.
Jump on the bike and hit the road? Mmmm Maybe
There’s always a Triathlon. Yeah, but I have to leave something for my 60th.
For now it will be a week of quiet celebration (part 12 of 18) for my birthday then on off on a holiday next week. Hopefully that is just a slow walk on the beach, definitely NO RUNNING.
Thanks to everyone that followed me to the finish line.
Run Muzz Run 