#brightonmarathon 12marathonsin12months

[runningblogofanunfit30somet-blog]

Brighton Marathon - 14th April

Second marathon of twelve! YES 12! 

Ah man, my head was all over the place after Manchester. The high of getting that PB and the crash of tiredness and aches just had me all over the shop. Unlike Manchester, I only had a week to prepare for Brighton, unpacking, getting the laundry done and repacking ahead of my trip down to East Worthing on Friday after work.  Typically early at the station so treated myself to my favourite pre marathon food - sushi! If you’re running a marathon you are absolutely allowed to indulge right? Those are just the rules!  The train was PACKED but managed to squeeze myself into a seat. I’d forgotten it was the start of the Easter holidays for some which is the only explaination for why it was so busy at 8pm on a Friday.  Panic set in when it was announced that the train SPLIT at Heywards Heath. FFS the signs could’ve been a little more helpful especially as they said that the train went all the way to Hove which is where I needed to change. Mad dash to the front of the train, suitcase in tow was not exactly planned but managed to get to Hove and change for the final leg into East Worthing. 

The room was beautiful and was grateful for a shower when I arrived. Cooked breakfast in the morning too - YUM!

Saturday comes and I head into Brighton to pick up my number, nerves starting to creep in as I suddenly realise that my body doesn’t seem to be aching from Manchester only 6 5 days before, but my heads just not in the game. Tiredness and a weird week at work I think BUT I had arrived, registered and I was doing it regardless. 

I managed to time it just right both missing the queue and the rain to go and collect my number. I mostly hung around the CALM tent all day to meet the other runners and just chill out  ahead of the run. It got to 6pm though and I had frozen my tits off in the rain and just needed to head back to the B&B, eat and sleep ahead of the big day. 

As is typical, I couldn’t sleep or at least what sleep I did get was minimal. Taped up, showered, hair done, nails cut, the alarm goes off at 6:30am and I head down for an early breakfast where I meet Martin, another runner. 

I decided on grabbing a cab to the start pens and offer Martin a lift as I’m heading down anyway and there’s no point in us both paying to get there. 

Heading towards the event village and start pens I can feel the usual butterflies in my belly. The routine of getting your number on, dropping of your bag and waiting in the seemingly endless queues for pre race piss is all part of race day.  I manage to find CALM and join in for the group photo. It’s always so emotional when you hear the stories and reasons why others are running. It’s such a personal cause and makes it all hit home a bit. 

Betsy and Seedy are kind enough to offer to stick my suitcase in their boot as it’s too big for the baggage lorries - FUCK! A quick walk to the car and back served well as a warm up and they are honestly so lovely too. It was a nice way to calm the nerves and I decided that I would drop back a few pens to start the race with them. There was no pressure to hit my previous personal best of the previous week, just getting around it would be enough for me. 2 marathons in the space of 8 days? I must be mad! 

The race starts and I feel the excitement surge into adrenaline as we pass cameras, commentators and supportive family and friends and then I was flying, or at least it felt like that - looking back, those early hills really hit hard if you weren’t ready. However, the first few miles seemed to effortlessly drop away, most likely because I made the most of the downhills and let gravity do the work for me. It was around the 5km mark I bumped into Lizzy who came down to support me! SO GOOD TO HAVE FACES IN THE CROWD. I cannot stress this enough! Supporters really do give you the boost you need. 

This was perhaps also my downfall though, the surge of energy and excitement perhaps threw my pace off. I was aware I wasn’t being as fast as Manchester but that didn’t matter. What did matter though was that I wasn’t being consistent or keeping an eye on my hydration. This would come back to haunt me later. 

At mile 5 I saw Lizzy again who, with endless encouragement tells me I’m doing really well and keeping a good pace and sends me on my way again. 

Down another hill was mile 6 and the official CALM cheer point and THEY are just amazing. The wonderful Hannah Goodwin takes the best action photos! Another surge of energy sends me on my way out along the sea front, towards miles 7, 8, 9, 10 and 11. I pass the CALM cheer point again at mile 12 which, after almost an hour of ENDLESS FUCKING HILLS, is the high point I needed to send me into the second half of the marathon. 

This is where I started to fall apart. 

As I pass the halfway mark, the lead woman passes me the other way. I still have another 14 (ish) miles to go and she’s fucking finishing! 

The crowds were immense in and around the park and seeing the guerrilla CALM cheerers were the spark that really kept you going. Until mile 14. 

There was a very unhappy rumble in my belly. Passing a church with a “toilets open” sign was indeed the sign from god that day as I went into full evacuation mode. 

10 minutes were spent locked in silent terror in that toilet. I was asked by a kindly woman if I was okay and explained, I’d had a bit of an upset stomach and managed a smile and returned to the race. 

At mile 15 I managed to spot Ally in the crowd! Another kindly face to spur me on when my body was defying me to continue. She gave me a hug, electrolyte water, energy gels and the much needed encouragement to will my now aching body into movement. 

The toughest part of the race was ahead. The rolling streets and endless turn backs, seeing runners both ahead and behind you made it really difficult to judge where exactly you were and what time you were heading for. 

The absolutely could crushing part of the race though was between miles 18 - 22, a dockyard industrial estate, with few spectators, no view, no music, just you, the road and thousands of other pained runners. Seeing Paul run the other way past me, had me in tears. He stopped and gave me a very much needed hug to will me on just the few more miles to the finish. 

The sea finally came into view and I knew I was close to finish. Ally and her wonderful face was there again, this time trying to live stream as I run past for my uncle in America. A hug, some more water and more encouragement than I deserved and I was back on my way. Just round the corner, there was the lovely Lizzy again who jogged with me for a bit which was so nice. Having someone alongside you in your pain, telling you how well you’re doing is really the best. She was just soo good to me on that day. A little way further still and Shona was there shouting my name! She was across the road so I couldn’t stop for the much needed hug but with only half a mile from the finish I had the end in sight. 

5:10:38

A respectable time and I’m not even remotely ashamed or embarrassed. I was not on form that day physically or mentally but I did it. A sixth of my challenge complete. 

Feeling pleased with myself and loaded up with all the freebies the marathon sponsors were willing to throw at me, I made my way to the CALM tent where I happily tucked into snacks and cider and basked in the tired celebration of other runners and endless energy of the supporters. That day belongs to them. I wouldn’t have made it round if it were not for their support. Genuinely and sincerely. 

The train back to Brighton was slow and full but I had Shona’s lovely company and hugs aplenty. She even treated me to cab ride home to save my legs. 

That race, was beautiful but tough. It’s one thing to respect the distance, because 26.2 miles is a bloody long way, it’s another thing to misjudge it though. The hills, the heat and the wind combined with exploding guts and a head not quite in the game gave me a new definition in which to judge my ability.

I did it. Onwards to Newport.