Flanked by Omar and Carl at the start, just before applying the Vaseline - for chafing of course
We went down to Brighton on Saturday for the marathon, checking into the Premier Inn for the night and then going to our pals, Jo and Omar’s for dinner. Omar was also running the race, so Jo had done a huge pasta dish for the pair of us and Laura and I made sure to head back to the hotel early in an effort to rest up. Run Fatboy Run was on telly as we went to sleep – nice!
Some chance of a peaceful night, aside from getting up a dozen times in the night, I was wide awake at 5am, wishing the minutes away to the race and nervy as hell. I decided to take a bath to relax and read a bit and, after breakfast, Laura and I headed to the start line with Carl Steer, another pal who works for a company called Rooster who do the PR for Visit Brighton.
We took a slow walk up from town to Preston Park for the start and, as Carl and I both had media passes, for some reason our numbers were black and white. So what? Well the colour of your number depended on which pen you started in with blue, for instance, being for runners who expected to finish between 3hrs 45mins to 4hours and pink being for runners hoping to finish in 4 hours to 4 hours 15 minutes. There were about six colours in all.
So where were the black and white numbers? In with the elite runners… Carl and I took one look at the chaps in the corral surrounding us and swiftly moved back to another pen in order to be with runners a little closer to our ability.
14 miles in and looking more knackered than I felt
Finally, the race started with Steve Ovett firing the gun and we were off. The first part of the race, around a mile or so was around Preston Park and half way around, a bird kindly shat on me… I took it as a sign of luck and carried on.
As usual, in races, you end up going much quicker than you expect and I could tell by my watch that after a couple of miles, I was miling at around 8mins 15 seconds and just decided to go with it.
My target time of four hours meant I would have to average 9 minutes a mile and so I figured if I could do the first half of the race closer to 8 minutes, I could then take it easier in the second half and drop back to about 10 minutes per mile for the second half of the race when I was more tired.
The man with a plant on his head!
The first third of the course was a total bitch. From Preston Park, we headed back into town and then through Kemp Town, a bugger of a slow incline. The organisers had promised it was a flat course but out of Kemp Town we headed up towards the South Downs, another huge couple of hills. It was here, at around six or seven miles that we got the disparaging sight of the frontrunners – those elites I was meant to start with – coming back in the other direction!
After this, things, thankfully flattened out as we headed past the new pier, where most of the people – including Laura and Jo, were out cheering. As we passed the half way mark, I was well up on my times, doing around 1hour and 50, which made me determined to carry on ploughing on to see if I could break 3hours 40.
The diversion up Church Road in Hove put paid to this though. The road got narrower and more congested and by mile 17, I was starting to feel every step jolt through, not my shins as expected, but my butt.
Battered with a mile to go
It was then back on the coast for the last seven miles. A couple of them down to the power station towards Shoreham, the most boring part of the race as we rounded the industrial wasteland surrounding it.
Somewhere here, at around mile 20, someone had helpfully made a huge wall and pointed out that we were going through it… possibly not the most encouraging thing a marathon runner wants to hear.
Despite me having gels and Lucazade on me and there being a few Powerade stations around the course, I was pretty much running on empty from here on in, my pace slowing back to the dreaded 10 minutes a mile and my head starting to go all over the place.
On the one hand, it was telling me to stop, on the other it was pushing me to go on… people on the side of the road cheering were starting to annoy me – all a very strange state of consciousness, or maybe unconsciousness as my pal David says.
Letting the sea do the icing
The last five miles I have no idea how I did them, but I did, passing Laura and Jo again near the finish, and coming in with a time on my watch of 3 hours 49mins which left me super chuffed with myself.
Omar, despite a dodgy knee, finished five minutes behind me and, after being repatriated with the girls, we headed straight for the beach to cool the muscles in the sea.
Other stuff and things seen
This was the first Brighton Marathon – excellently organised and executed. Would definitely recommend it next year to anyone.
It was blistering hot and I am now very red faced
I started the race next to Norman Cook. People kept shouting Run Fatboy Run at him.
I saw two people running as a pair of tits!
My eye caught two Elvis’s, a Storm Trooper from Star Wars and a man running with a pot plant on his head!
The new Brooks Adrenaline new trainers did me proud, only one tiny blister
Great to see Maxine Sheppard of V Travelled at about mile 20 cheering on the runners
On the way back to London, I got a text message from the race organisers telling me I finished in 3hours 51 and came 1319 from 12,000 entries… gutted they counted that wrong… I even started my timer about 100m past the start line so Im not sure how they worked it out.
I am now aching to buggery. Hope tomorrow feels better!
Click here for a link to Garmin Connect for a Google Map and full details of the day’s run
Miles today: 26.28
Target: 633
Miles to date: 847.37
Please donate to my chosen charities by clicking here
) I’ve been stretching, doing sports massages, some yoga, sitting at night watching telly and writing the alphabet in the air with my feet… you name it, I’ve tried it and all of them have had some good effect.
