So, 4 weeks on from the big day, I though it was time to both reflect and look forward. When we last met, I was still on the euphoria high of having completed the event, done a respectable time and enjoyed a great life experience. I still feel the same. I may have just about stopped lacing every conversation with marathon references and the finisher's T-Shirt only comes out once or twice a week, but there's still that warm glow thinking about it. And the almost £1200 raised for Marie Curie. Thank's again folks.
And, of course, the preparations. As I alluded to in here somewhere, I came to realise that forcing myself to stick to the discipline of the programme and actually see it through was unusual for me. More of a starter than a finisher, so I finally proved to myself that I can see things through.
It is, of course, one of the rarest of photographs. A race photo where I don't look like I've just been kicked hard in the nuts. I must really have been enjoying myself.
Thing's I'd do differently? I'd try not to hit a run of leaving do's (including my own) at a crucial part of the late training and perhaps be more cautious about taking a holiday 2 weeks before the event. I should probably have done a few more miles in the taper weeks too, but these are all valuable lessons for next time.
Next time? But of course. The ballot for next year has been entered, but we have to wait until the end of September to find out whether we're in or not. In the meantime, what to do to fill that marathon-sized hole in my life?
I returned from London with many leaflets for the Autumn marathon season, but one in particular caught my attention. As an occasional visitor the the magnificent event that is the 24 Heures du Mans, plus driver of parts of the circuit on our Sucata adventures, the thought of running a marathon round there really caught my attention. Then I found out that this year's event would be the first to be held there.
So, for a motorsport fan and (now) marathoner, what could be better than running the inaugural marathon at one of the world's greatest sporting venues. Well, not much, as far as I'm concerned. So I am. Sunday October 3rd will see me on the start line for the Marathon du Mans. This, of course, means that a training programme will be required, so I need to get my ass into gear and start running again.
The one downside of London has been a very sore right foot, which felt initially like a stress fracture, but I've been assured isn't. I tried to run 2 weeks ago and made it about half a mile before having to turn around in pain. Tried again last Sunday, and while it was still sore, I managed 5.75 hilly offroad miles without too much discomfort. This was welcome, as I'd entered the Polaroid 10k series, which covers Helensburgh, Clydebank, Dumbarton and Vale of Leven. And Helensburgh was on Thursday.
Having decided the foot would survive, I wandered down with the idea of running sensibly, not least because no runs in 4 weeks makes Mark a horribly unfit boy. Of course, nothing like that happened, and race fever took over, which led to me pushing about as hard as I could for a 44:51 - about 2 minutes faster than I'd been targeting (and that was before I knew about the extra hills on the route).
But I needed a good hard run, so nothing lost. Went out today for the first real "just go and enjoy" run since London. Although with the heat and humidity, enjoy wasn't really the word. The route was particularly hilly, and after 2 miles of uphill at 4.5 miles, I decided to take the opportunity to stop and enjoy the view. Over the Clyde, up Glen Fruin. Remember, this is running, not training, so look up and remember why you run in the first place - love of being in the outdoors and the enjoyment of it. As I dwelled, a pair of Buzzards soared and swooped overhead, chirping and calling in an obvious courtship ritual, before heading for the woods and whatever it is a pair of lovelorn buzzards get up to in to woods on a warm spring day.
As I jogged on, I worked out that, to my surprise, it's only 19 weeks to the Marathon du Mans. Then, to my horror, that as I operate a 16 week training schedule, I need to start again in 3 weeks. Bollocks. Finally, I realised that the programme will start on June 14th. Which is the day I get home from, yes, you guessed it, this year's 24 Heures du Mans - where my son (aka The Boy) and I are going for a spot of male bonding and dicking around.
On that spooky symmetry, it's "a bientot" from me...
