It's Leeds! Quick, run for it!
After London, I mused about trying for a sub-3h45m in 2023 for marathon #3. That was the goal this weekend, as I headed to Leeds for the inaugural Rob Burrow marathon.
I travelled up the day beforehand, mid-afternoon because of rail strikes. I checked into my hotel and walked the route to the start line, so I'd know where I was going the next day. Then it was dinner, a bit of Eurovision and an early night so I'd be fresh in the morning.
When I arrived, the start was a shambles, no other word for it. Nearly an hour-long queue for the bag drop, plus queuing for the loos. Inevitably, they had to delay the start. My wave was already moving by the time I entered the start zone. In a way, this was quite good; it meant there was none of the interminable wait you often get, standing around waiting for the race to start. Fortunately, out on the course itself, everything was a lot better organised, once we got going.
Normal strategy for a marathon is to find your "I can do this all day" pace, and keep going (until you can't!). That was never going to work with this course, which was far more undulating than most. There was also the blazing sun to consider as well as 12,000+ other runners on what were, at times, quite narrow roads. I was continuously having to adjust to my surroundings, easing on the uphills, making gravity work for me on the downhills, weaving into shade where I could and picking my way through the pack.
The first four miles took us through the city centre. There I passed Rob Burrow and Kevin Sinfield, and managed to meet up with Hannah and run with her for a bit. Then it was out into country roads and beautiful views (and hills). Here my right calf threatened to play up (as it has occasionally during training), but I eased on it a bit and it behaved itself. Miles 12 and 13 were an out-and-back stretch, with runners on both sides of the road. Here I could see how far the 3h45m pacer was ahead of me (I wasn't too worried; I crossed the start line 9 minutes after the gun!) and I waved hi to Hannah (who had caught the 4h pacer) again as I was heading back.
Mile 17 was the town of Otley, where Lesley was among the crowd cheering runners on. I didn't manage to see her, but it's not surprising as every inch of pavement through the town was full. The support all the way round the marathon was some of the best I've experienced, but Otley was second to none. They were brilliant and I told them so as I passed through. Though I didn't see Lesley, she was with me in spirit, as I used her patented jelly babies and cocktail sausages snacking strategy to keep me fuelled throughout the race!
Miles 18 and 19 were The Hill We'd All Been Warned About and... actually, it wasn't that bad. The gradient was gentle and even, and it would've been nothing if we hadn't already run 18 miles beforehand! I allowed myself to feel smug about training in Sheffield, as runners all around me started walking as I kept running (albeit at a slower pace). Once I reached the top I was tired, but dared to start thinking about that elusive 3h45m goal...
Too soon. There was a sneaky extra hill at mile 22 that I hadn't expected! I allowed myself a 2 1/2 minute walking break, then forced myself to keep going. I needed that, and it gave me just enough to keep running to the end. The last 10k was pretty much all downhill, and I just needed to keep going. I was metaphorically running on fumes by this point, so it was going to be close. Headingley Stadium was a welcome sight; I wasn't quite sure how much there was left as the route circled around it, but then it was into the ground and across the pitch to the finish line.
I was already in tears before I crossed the line, and exhausted but triumphant. I'd done it with 2 minutes to spare! I collected my medal, soaked up the crowd for a moment, then staggered outside to watch the other finishers coming in. I saw Hannah, followed shortly by Kevin and Rob, so went back into the ground to enjoy the roar as they crossed the line. Hannah and I met up again, congratulated each other over cans of Erdinger, struggled to move again, then endured the equally shambolic saga of reclaiming our bags. Honestly, if I'd have known, I wouldn't have bothered bringing one!
All marathons are tough, but this one seemed to be especially so. Most of the way round and at the end, there were runners dropping out and needing medical attention - a reminder that this is serious business. The first finisher was a relatively slow 2h29m, which makes me even more pleased with my new PB. I think I managed my race about as well as I could've done. (You can judge for yourself on that Strava.) And actually, I quite liked the hills...
I stayed in Leeds overnight, chatted to several other runners in my hotel, slept, ate and recovered slightly. Then it was back home today. Thanks to all those who supported me in raising money for The Pain Relief Foundation. I was in pain after the race, but for 1 in 7 people, it's a constant struggle. If you still want to sponsor me, you can!
I travelled up the day beforehand, mid-afternoon because of rail strikes. I checked into my hotel and walked the route to the start line, so I'd know where I was going the next day. Then it was dinner, a bit of Eurovision and an early night so I'd be fresh in the morning.
When I arrived, the start was a shambles, no other word for it. Nearly an hour-long queue for the bag drop, plus queuing for the loos. Inevitably, they had to delay the start. My wave was already moving by the time I entered the start zone. In a way, this was quite good; it meant there was none of the interminable wait you often get, standing around waiting for the race to start. Fortunately, out on the course itself, everything was a lot better organised, once we got going.
Normal strategy for a marathon is to find your "I can do this all day" pace, and keep going (until you can't!). That was never going to work with this course, which was far more undulating than most. There was also the blazing sun to consider as well as 12,000+ other runners on what were, at times, quite narrow roads. I was continuously having to adjust to my surroundings, easing on the uphills, making gravity work for me on the downhills, weaving into shade where I could and picking my way through the pack.
The first four miles took us through the city centre. There I passed Rob Burrow and Kevin Sinfield, and managed to meet up with Hannah and run with her for a bit. Then it was out into country roads and beautiful views (and hills). Here my right calf threatened to play up (as it has occasionally during training), but I eased on it a bit and it behaved itself. Miles 12 and 13 were an out-and-back stretch, with runners on both sides of the road. Here I could see how far the 3h45m pacer was ahead of me (I wasn't too worried; I crossed the start line 9 minutes after the gun!) and I waved hi to Hannah (who had caught the 4h pacer) again as I was heading back.
Mile 17 was the town of Otley, where Lesley was among the crowd cheering runners on. I didn't manage to see her, but it's not surprising as every inch of pavement through the town was full. The support all the way round the marathon was some of the best I've experienced, but Otley was second to none. They were brilliant and I told them so as I passed through. Though I didn't see Lesley, she was with me in spirit, as I used her patented jelly babies and cocktail sausages snacking strategy to keep me fuelled throughout the race!
Miles 18 and 19 were The Hill We'd All Been Warned About and... actually, it wasn't that bad. The gradient was gentle and even, and it would've been nothing if we hadn't already run 18 miles beforehand! I allowed myself to feel smug about training in Sheffield, as runners all around me started walking as I kept running (albeit at a slower pace). Once I reached the top I was tired, but dared to start thinking about that elusive 3h45m goal...
Too soon. There was a sneaky extra hill at mile 22 that I hadn't expected! I allowed myself a 2 1/2 minute walking break, then forced myself to keep going. I needed that, and it gave me just enough to keep running to the end. The last 10k was pretty much all downhill, and I just needed to keep going. I was metaphorically running on fumes by this point, so it was going to be close. Headingley Stadium was a welcome sight; I wasn't quite sure how much there was left as the route circled around it, but then it was into the ground and across the pitch to the finish line.
I was already in tears before I crossed the line, and exhausted but triumphant. I'd done it with 2 minutes to spare! I collected my medal, soaked up the crowd for a moment, then staggered outside to watch the other finishers coming in. I saw Hannah, followed shortly by Kevin and Rob, so went back into the ground to enjoy the roar as they crossed the line. Hannah and I met up again, congratulated each other over cans of Erdinger, struggled to move again, then endured the equally shambolic saga of reclaiming our bags. Honestly, if I'd have known, I wouldn't have bothered bringing one!
All marathons are tough, but this one seemed to be especially so. Most of the way round and at the end, there were runners dropping out and needing medical attention - a reminder that this is serious business. The first finisher was a relatively slow 2h29m, which makes me even more pleased with my new PB. I think I managed my race about as well as I could've done. (You can judge for yourself on that Strava.) And actually, I quite liked the hills...
I stayed in Leeds overnight, chatted to several other runners in my hotel, slept, ate and recovered slightly. Then it was back home today. Thanks to all those who supported me in raising money for The Pain Relief Foundation. I was in pain after the race, but for 1 in 7 people, it's a constant struggle. If you still want to sponsor me, you can!
