Jamie ran this Marathon a couple of weeks ago now and he posted it on his running blog/FB, but wanted to have it recorded here.
DNF. 3 letters I've heard mentioned in the context of racing
before, but have never had to place them next to my name until now. I
guess I had a good run after 37 years and 5 some months. I have some
excuses, but not sure there's too much more I could have done yesterday.
As “luck” would have it, yesterday was the hottest day of the year so
far in Sydney. The forecast was for 31C and hot, but by the time I
dropped out it was 34C (93F), relatively dry, and not a breath of wind.
Not quite ideal racing conditions. I woke up at 4:15am, not really
sleeping well as usually is the case the night before a big race. But
when my daughter Annmarie woke us up at 2am to go potty, I walked her
back downstairs and thought it felt rather warm for that time of the
night. Out the door by 4:45 and arrived at the park at 6:00, a good 90
minutes before race time. Plenty of time to check in and properly
prepare before the gun. The Glenbrook Marathon is a 2 loop trail
marathon in the Blue Mountains mainly on single track trails with a
little bit of fire road. It was relatively low key, with only about 120
runners starting the full marathon, and probably the same for the half.
I started relaxed and confident, thinking I'd probably be able to
finish somewhere between 4:00 and 4:30, but the ultimate goal being to
run under 5:30 to qualify for Six Foot Track. 5:30 should be “easily
attainable” I told myself. Famous last words. I purposely kept it easy
the first short loop of 2.5k before heading up the first steep
climb…about a 60M (200 ft) climb, most of which is tough to run on a
good day. I passed a bunch of people before becoming content behind the
walkers and popping out onto a single track for the next 2-3k and
passed through the first aid station quickly in 30:06. The GPS on my
Timex lost the satellite signal about 2 minutes before the race started,
so I was flying blind as far as knowing how much terrain I’ve covered,
but guessed it was probably just over 5k at this point (note to self: a
Garmin makes an excellent Christmas present). A quick 8 minutes until
the next aid station, and then down a set of very steep steps for the
next half k or so. The next 30 minutes meanders through very runnable
single track and a pretty technical long climb, some of which is
runnable, but a lot is walked by the majority of racers, as this is the
part where we’re starting to feel the heat. On this leg I pass a guy
who I ran a few hrs with at one of the Sunday STAR runs a few weeks ago,
and we talk a bit which makes the climb a bit easier.
We pop out at the 3rd aid station, where I stop for a minute or so to
refill my bottle and dump a cup of cold water over my head. It feels
great. Then off up another steady climb of about 5k of fire road. This
is also very runnable, and I settle in behind a few people. There’s
minimal shade on the sides and now we’re getting a lot of direct sun.
It’s not even 9am yet and I’m starting to roast. I hit the top about
1:35 into the race and take a longer break with another few cups over
the head, refilling and popping a gel. The aid station volunteer tells
me we’re at about 16k at this point, and I know the next 5k is
downhill, so I take off at a reasonably comfortable pace, but I’m really
feeling the heat now. 28 minutes passes and I keep waiting to cross
the half way point, but it never comes. I finally can see the half way
checkpoint after 38 min descending, however I need to run even further
to get to it…about 2.5k more, which takes me another 16 min as I say
“fuck this shit” and start walking.
As I walk through the checkpoint, I grab a chair, sit my ass down,
and contemplate the meaning of life, as well as whether or not I should
continue. I see other marathoners arriving at the checkpoint and
informing the officials they’re done and dropping out. This weighs on
me, and I start thinking the rest of this race is not going to happen.
I’m feeling spent and broken, but surprisingly my legs still feel pretty
good. It’s the rest of me that is trashed. I had hoped to reach the
half way checkpoint at 2:00-2:15…I got there in 2:33. I get more
deflated when I hear most people saying they’re measuring the course WAY
long…about 24.5+k (15.2 miles) for a “half marathon”. On a trail race I
can see them overmeasuring a “little”, but blowing it by 2 miles is
un-fucking-real. They must have measured it with Apple maps. So while
it does explain why I’m so much slower than I thought, I still need to
figure out a way to do not just another half marathon, but likely a good
15 more miles. And it’s getting hotter. Fuckity fuck. Anyway I get
some words of encouragement, go to first aid and re-tape my nips (the
last thing I need in the middle of this is to start lactating blood),
down a couple cups of Coke…not that I’ve ever had the urge to drink Coke
during a race, or really ever anymore, but I’ve heard the massive
amounts of sugar and caffeine are like rocket fuel in races. So I down a
few, let out a war cry, and set off on lap 2…
Now mind you “setting off” means coming to the massively steep 200 ft
climb again immediately, so I run for about 30 steps, and then walk the
hill. This time its noticeably void of people. Me and one other dude
going up. No one else around. I get to the top and feel my right calf
starting to cramp up a little. Shit. Not bad yet, but something’s
definitely not right. This happened in my last marathon, and really
pretty close to the same point in the race, but this time around its
undoubtedly the heat and dehydration. I start off on the single track
and make it about a half mile before my calf seizes and I almost go
down. Ouch. I know I’m done at this point, however I keep going
forward instead of just walking the short distance back to the finish
area. I jog a little, but mostly walk to the next aid station. I am
about to quit, but there is just one volunteer there and me. I know the
next aid station is not far off, and he convinces me I don’t look so
bad, so I set off again and walk towards that. Not really sure why,
maybe I think it will pass eventually and I can jog/walk the rest of the
way. Right. It’s a struggle now. I really can’t walk and need to
stop several times to let the cramps subside. I’m cramping everywhere.
Quads, hip flexors, groin, calves, ankles...places I didn't even think
it was possible to cramp I was cramping. One of the guys who passed me
saw me sitting on the side of the trail, and he stopped and gave me a
magnesium capsule to help with the cramping. But it’s probably too late
at this point. People run past every few minutes. Nobody looks in
good shape at this point, but all look better than me as it doesn’t take
long for me to be alone again.
I walked into the next aid station fully intending to drop out. It’s
taken me about an hour to get here and it was maybe 5k max. I spend
about 4 or 5 min there, but the volunteers talked me into continuing,
yet again. It’s about 4k to the next station, but it’s up another
sizable climb to the fire road. I set off and make it about 200M down
some steep steps, and then everything gives out on me. Everything. The
side of my fucking ankle seizes and turns my entire foot inward so much
so that I wasn’t sure whether I had broken it or not. It feels like
Kathy Bates smashed it with a sledgehammer. I can’t stand now and I
can’t get my foot to straighten out. Game over. I hobbled the 200M
back up to the aid station…it takes me 9 minutes to go 200M. Writhing
in pain, one of the volunteer offers to drive me and another dropper
outer back to the start line. I’m assisted into the backseat of this
guy’s car and sit cramping severely trying not to lose my shit. It’s
that bad.
But at least it’s over. I get back to the finish, grab a chair, and
don’t move for the next 30 min or so, watching the brave souls who
manage to make it all the way through cross the finish line. I’d never
thought I’d be so happy to quit a race. I figure I probably made it
about 30-31k's, and went for 4:10 before I cashed in the chips…which is
the longest I’ve ever been on my feet in a race…so that’s another
milestone I suppose. I manage about an hour at the finish and feel I
can drive without going into massive convulsions and causing a wreck.
But first thing’s first. I find the nearest hole in the wall and order a
bacon cheeseburger with beetroot, fries w/ chicken salt, and a
chocolate shake. I needs some calories, you know.
Rough day, but other than the heat and the extra distance I thought
it was a great course and very well organized. I was well trained, and
while it was definitely a tough course, it wasn’t overly difficult…the
terrain was actually easier than I had anticipated. But the heat and
the extra distance made it impossible yesterday. If nothing else, I’m
happy I didn't quit at the half way mark, as while I was tired ,I still
felt I had a little more gas in the tank. When I bowed out, I can truly
say I couldn’t have gone on another step. No Six Foot qualifier…but
who knows…maybe I’ll give the North Face 50k a shot in May when it’s
pretty likely it will be a hellava lot cooler out.
