The Luton Marathon, or....

how I finally learned to pace a long run correctly.   :-)

As this race drew closer and closer my confidence became a thinner and thinner veneer, but in many ways this was a good thing. Rather than me going out with the intention of smashing a big time, London 2008 and the last 7 miles of that run are still very fresh in my mind, so being conservative became all important. Get round in one piece at a low rpe and take whatever time was given to me. 3.30 or under was going to be nice, but not critical on what is generally considered a fairly slow course. I just wanted a positive experience. The day started well, travelling up to Luton with Simon and the thick fog gave way to blue skies and luke warm November sunshine; perfect running weather. A porridge and banana breakfast had been consumed and I had no aches or pains to worry about so I felt that everything was falling into place for a solid run. Simon and I placed ourselves in the 3.30 area and waited for the gun to go.

As soon as we started, Simon was off and ahead. I should state that he's a very good runner but had not done much specific marathon training in the lead up to Luton and there was a small temptation to go with him but right from the start it was important that I ran my own race. Luton is three laps, so while the first is slightly shorter, it meant that doing the maths was pretty easy; 3 laps, doing each lap at about 1.10 would see me home in 3.30. The lap is in three general parts. From the leisure centre at the start it winds out the back across a large playing field before hitting the 3-4 mile hilly section and then finally turning onto the main road which brings you back into the town centre. This bit is quite dull, eventually looping around another large playing field but the hilly country section was actually surprisingly pretty. As we went through the first couple of miles I could just see Simon pulling out ahead, already some 2 minutes up. I settled into a group and encountered the hills for the first time.

If I am honest, they really were not that bad but knowing I would be doing them three times I knocked it right back, conserving myself. I was really focussing on myself and quite simply, if I was breathing hard I was pushing too hard. In spite of this, I found myself passing a few runners who had gone out too hard early on and with only 6 miles or so done looked pretty tired. I came through the first lap and checked my watch to see 65:xx. If I am honest, I was a bit confused. I felt very, very comfortable but yet, hear I was, again going out faster than I had planned. I thought back to 2008 and I remember I was pushing harder than this, so I felt confident that I was on the right effort level and the right pace, but I made a mental note to slow up sooner rather than later if things looked like they were going to turn ugly. As I started the second lap I had a little wave of runners go past me who obviously had finished their warm up and were now going to push on. A wizened old runner went past with a painful yet economic gait, followed by another large bloke who went past me up the big hill. He was breathing hard as he went and I was impressed at the pace he had suddenly found but I felt confident that he probably would not stay away. On an open part of the course I could just see Simon up ahead, probably now some 3-4 minutes up on me and therefore running at around sub 3.10 pace. This was actually the lap where I had to exert the most self control. I was feeling very good and I wanted to start to pick up the pace, but for once I listened to the voice in my head and kept myself in check. If they were that much faster than me then I probably wasn't going to stay with them, and if they were not that much faster then they'll probably come back to me. Time would tell. The wind picked up a bit on the second lap and with the field strung out it was hard to shelter from it, but I found myself gradually pulling in those ahead of me, bit by bit. At 16 miles, towards the back end of the second lap there is a small narrow path that rises and it was here where I first started to feel some aching in my legs; nothing major but it made me keep a lid on it and not get too carried away.

So, I started the third lap and saw that my elapsed time was 2:11, so I had paced it exactly the same as the first. Woop woop me. I still felt really good and now I had another 8.5 miles or so to do and it was really important to me that I ran them well and didn't lose the mental game. Remember, the wall doesn't exist, it's only a badly paced run and I knew that I had paced it right. As the final lap started, I encountered more and more people who had blown up and were walking. Been there; done that; won't do it again. But also, there were other runners who were still running but their pace had slowed drastically, including wizened runner and the big bloke. As I ran around the first recreation ground I caught sight of Simon and I saw that I had almost halved the distance between us in the space of the second lap and I could see that I was catching him with every stride. I caught him at 20 miles as we approached the village of Streakley and the largest hill on the loop. This was where it started to hurt but I was still running at my goal pace whereas everyone else around me seemed to be slowing down and the fact I was overtaking people gave me the encouragement I needed to forget about my legs ('Fooosh my legs' as any Marathon Talk podcast listeners will be aware of) and to keep picking people off. At 24 miles I caught another runner. I had stupidly hit the stop button on my stopwatch at the end of lap 2 instead of the split button so I couldn't work out what sort of time I might be on for, so as he had a Garmin on I asked what finish time we were looking at. He said he thought we would finish in about 3.16. Crikey! While I was running much better than I could possibly have hoped for I really wanted to try to get under 3.15 and so upped my effort level. I felt like I was running quite fast but I had reached that point in a marathon of ever diminishing returns. My arms and legs were going as fast as possible but it didn't seem to be getting me anywhere. I ran into the finishing chute pretty spent and beginning to cramp up and saw 3.18.xx on the clock. Simon held on to finish in 3.23. A great run, on frankly, very little marathon training by him.

So, I am a very happy bunny. I feel that I paced it perfectly. On the day I do not feel I could have gone any faster or better and checking the results I worked out that I overtook 40 runners during laps 2 and 3. I am delighted to have finally laid the marathon ghost of London 2008 and knocked a very healthy 24 minutes from the time I set that day, but I am not satisfied, not by a long chalk. I now know that sub 3 is achievable. 18 minutes is still a lot of time to take off and I envisage that it will take me another 3 or 4 marathons to get there; but get there I will.

Cramping up at the end; ouchy!

I am pooped. I want to sleep most of the time so the next couple of weeks is going to be some rest time, but over the next 6 to 8 weeks I intend to get back into a boat and do some proper all over body conditioning. Running will continue after this week, but very gently along with commuting on the bike and a turbo session once a week. I am basically looking at it as active recovery with a strength and conditioning focus. Then onwards and upwards.