Week 41: 5–11 October

Run: 5h 14m (39.8 miles) | Cross Train: 0h 00m | Gym: 0h 00m

Well, I ran a marathon.

I wasn’t sure that I’d be saying that a couple of weeks ago…

The build-up to Chester was rather different from the one I had imagined a few months ago. The 2:57 target has been put back to London in April. After the illness, and missed sessions and tight legs, the aim was to get to the start feeling reasonably healthy and remind myself what running a road marathon actually feels like. It has been three years since the last one. Apparently, they haven’t got any shorter.

Tuesday was my first run since the previous Wednesday. The throat was better, but there were still a few lingering cold symptoms and the legs felt tight. The easy runs that followed were about getting moving again, rather than proving anything. Heart rate remained a little high for the pace, so there was no temptation to squeeze in the training I had missed. A couple of small strides on Thursday were enough; the cold morning was a good reason to keep things gentle.

I was disappointed to miss my swim this week. Even when there is a scheduling problem with the coach, I need to be a little more disciplined about making it happen. This week, though, the marathon rather took over.

By Friday I felt relaxed about Sunday. The rough plan was to enjoy the first ten miles, then hold or push for the next ten before reassessing with 10km to go. Sub-three was off the table; the right side of 3:10 would have been nice, but I was happy to see what the day brought. No pressure on the clock did not mean forgetting that there was still a very long way to run.

Race morning was straightforward: porridge with honey two hours before the start, two black coffees and some Lucozade to sip. No overnight snack. I carried six gels, with a plan to collect another three on the course. I also avoided drinking excessively before the start, relying on the previous day’s hydration and the regular water stations rather than setting myself up for an early toilet stop.

I felt strong through the first nine miles, although I wondered whether the early part of the course was helping. The splits put that feeling into context: those nine miles averaged about 7:10/mile, with mile nine at 7:11 and an average heart rate of 167bpm. The hills clearly influenced individual miles — mile four was 7:20 at 171bpm with a climb, while the downhill fifth mile was 6:57 at 166bpm — rather than the opening section being uniformly downhill. It was a familiar feeling after the Great North Run. With no further proper strength, tempo or long runs since then, there was only so much endurance I could expect to call on.

With ten miles still to go, I consciously eased the effort. That was a sensible adjustment to keep the race controlled. Interestingly, the pace did not change immediately: mile sixteen was still 7:11 at 173bpm and mile seventeen 7:14 at 175bpm. The first clear slowdown came at mile eighteen, at 7:41, with heart rate still averaging 175bpm. So my decision to ease back and the change visible on the watch were not quite the same moment. The final 10km felt like survival, and the later splits reflect that: miles twenty-one to twenty-six averaged about 8:18/mile, compared with roughly 7:10 for the first seventeen. Heart rate stayed between 175 and 177bpm across those final six full miles, despite the slower pace, and reached an average of 179bpm in the last recorded 0.3 miles. Slower certainly did not feel easier. Heart rate alone cannot tell the whole story, but the figures sit alongside the memory of working hard to keep moving. I stayed committed and kept running to the finish, and I’m pleased with that bit of mental toughness.

The admin side went very well. Zero GI issues, water at every station, no dizziness and no chafing. Conditions were cool but bright, and the fuelling and hydration felt pretty much bang on. Those are useful things to take from the day, particularly with London already in mind.

The hamstrings and deltoids were very tight afterwards, but the immediate verdict, fifteen minutes after finishing, came with a big smile. I had adjusted to the fitness I actually had, made a sensible decision when it mattered and kept running to the finish. London can have the stopwatch.

For now, I’m looking forward to recovery, some easy autumn running and that trip to the Lake District. Maybe I’ll explore some MAF training…