Chester Marathon – I Beat The Bear

There is a saying which goes along the lines of: if you keep doing the same thing, you’ll end up with the same results.

That is, I think, why I haven’t got any faster at the marathon this year. 

It’s okay because they weren’t really my A races. That was the 50K in July, and my aim there was to complete it and remain in one piece. The two autumn marathons were just add-ons really, and although I haven’t shown any progression in them, they’ve, at least, served to maintain my fitness levels.

Chester was a double add-on given that it was the result of someone offering their entry for lower price. I’m a sucker for a bargain. And so, for the last time this year, and probably for next year too, I laced up my shoes for 26.2 miles – or 26.3 miles as my Garmin told me.

I had gone out for twelve miles, two weeks previously, in the pouring rain because I was sure my luck with dry race days wouldn’t hold. It was a little murky to begin with as I and fellow Pensby club mate, Alison, made our way into the grounds of Chester Racecourse, but those few spats soon dried up, and it turned into perfect weather for running. 

Even though most of my marathons have given me very similar times, my feelings as I’m in the middle of them varies quite a lot. For example, during Dingle, I started off a little quickly but didn’t feel the fatigue begin to creep into my body until around mile thirteen. In Chester, I did my best to hold back and take it steady, and my legs started wonder if this whole escapade was a good idea from about mile five. 

I pushed the small flutter of panic back down again because I’d been here before. During the ultra, I was feeling the lack of bounce from around this time too, and I had managed to keep going regardless. My plan, such as it was, was to walk the minute or two at the water stations, which were roughly three miles apart, and run in between. That worked for the first half. 

There definitely seemed to be steeper inclines in the second half, that’s all I can say. I knew I was slowing, but I did manage to tuck in my first twenty miles just inside the four-hour mark. Plus, I knew that I was well ahead of the fancy dress bear that brought delight to the crowds at the beginning. He may well look cute, in an oversized manner, but it is not good for the self-esteem to be smacked down by something like that. I know, having been trounced by several rhinos in London.

I think there is a psychological barrier for me and the mile twenty mark. It didn’t quite happen in Yorkshire (where I had my best time), but in every other marathon, there has been a plummet in speed after this point. It was as if I gave myself permission to do a bit more walking, despite the fact that I probably could have kept shuffling for longer periods than I did.

I was also aware that there were quite a number of blue light incidents for some poor runners out there, and twice, we had to inch past ambulances attending to people. Sometimes I think it’s good not to have that push at all costs gene.

For the final mile and a bit, I did attempt an effort. It felt like I was sprinting although my Garmin only shows an eleven-and-a-half-minute time. There had been quite a lot of crowd support in pockets on the route, but the last section was particularly packed and vocal which always gives you that final ounce of energy. I near threw myself at the Finish gantry with a feeling of relief.

Alison, meanwhile, had had a very long wait for me, as she had clocked a personal best of 03:36:15 and that was after wondering if she should pull out because of a wheezy chest. And there were several PBs amongst the group I knew. My 5:24:51 was okay all things considered. At least I didn’t get the same gut issues that I did in Dingle.

And now, after a rest week, I can begin to put into place my new plan of action, outlined briefly in my previous blog, which will hopefully be different enough to the old plan to make a difference in the outcome. I will keep you posted.