Ignore the Signs….Sometimes!
I wanted to sign up for an international marathon in the year I turned 60 to challenge myself. I was looking for an autumn marathon so I could train in summer and enjoy my birthday at the beginning of October with a medal already around my neck and a glass of champagne in my hand!
I entered the ballot for Berlin but didn’t get in, and as it was their 40th anniversary, there were no charity places available either. Many Hoops I spoke to recommended Valencia: a flat PB course, great weather, and although it was in December, it was far enough away from my birthday to be able to celebrate without worrying it would affect my training. The race sounded exciting, and places were available, so I signed up. I then thought I’d better read the small print and saw the cutoff was 05:30:00! My stomach lurched! My marathon PB was 05:19:00; there wasn’t much margin for error. I was having second thoughts. The rules said you had to pass the 25k mark just before 1pm; any runners later than this would have to hand in their bib and ‘abandon’ the race. This gave me 2 hours and 20 minutes from when my wave started. I looked back at my past marathons; this was the exact time I had taken in my last three races, and one of them was even longer. More lurching, second thoughts.
A few weeks later, I was speaking to Sarah P at Parkrun. She said that when she’d run Valencia the year before, she was surprised to see it was about 80% men at the start line, and the average age seemed much younger than most other races. That was the gauntlet I needed thrown down to get me fired up to train for the race. I would proudly stand at the back of the pack as a silver-haired 60-year-old woman and give it my best shot! (Note: the back of the pack at Valencia is for runners completing in 04:10:00 and over!)
In the past, my main aim was to enjoy a marathon and finish without being on the verge of collapse. I didn’t start too fast (thank you, Susan) so I could go the whole distance; but after finishing London in 2023, I wondered if I could have pushed it harder. Now was the time to put it to the test. Valencia would be different. Time to push myself out of my comfort zone and see how fast I could go. Travelling on top of the race would push me even further.
Sadistically, I like the discipline of training for a marathon, but this time I would have to train really hard. For my last two marathons, I’ve used the MyProCoach Masters training plans for over 40s. It works well for me as the mileage isn’t too high and the longest run is no more than about 24k based on my pace, with every 3rd week an active recovery week. The plan includes five runs a week and two strength and core sessions. Previously, I’d dropped to 3-4 runs and one core session in some weeks. This time I planned to do every session as much as I could. I was aiming for a PB and hopefully a decent one, to make sure I passed the cutoff point with time to spare.
Training started well. By the time I reached the halfway mark, I was feeling good, but I could never imagine myself at the start line, which has always been an incentive in the past. Something kept telling me in the back of my mind that I wasn’t going to make it there or I would get flagged down and told to get in the sweeper vehicle!
About 7 weeks before race day, I started to get a niggle in my right knee and IT band. I went for a massage, which helped, but it was still bothering me. I mentioned it to Lisa F (at Parkrun again); she told me to go straight to a physio and get some exercises as that had helped her the year before (thanks, Lisa; it was a game changer). Jodie and Saikat recommended Marcus at Beyond Health (he’s sadly left now). I was given a rigorous set of resistance band work and advised to do all my runs at an easy pace. After a couple of weeks, I could really feel the difference. I felt stronger and more stable, but I still felt discomfort when I picked up the pace, so I played it safe. I did the exercises religiously, and long runs were feeling good; a slap of Voltarol kept any niggles at bay. I could finally start to imagine actually running the race. Every now and then, I even toyed with the idea of a sub-5hr marathon. I thought it could be too ambitious but didn’t push it completely out of my mind.
With just 4 weeks to go, the devastating floods hit Valencia! We were all in shock at the footage. Understandably, the race organisers went quiet. Surely the race couldn’t go ahead when the focus needed to be elsewhere. After an agonising week, we received a message saying a final decision would be made within 7 days. More waiting! Was all our training going to be in vain? The group chat was busy…. Andy was feeling positive and booking a restaurant for after the race…. Giles was rallying the troops to raise funds for the flood victims… Roma, Luke, and I talked about alternatives on the Wednesday social run. Then finally, with 2 weeks to go, we got the go-ahead! Full steam ahead…bring on the maranoia!
The race was going ahead, but the Metro wouldn’t be fully open before race day, including from the airport and to the Expo. I wondered how the city would cope and how we’d get around. By the time I flew out on the Thursday, I felt exhausted already; I just wanted to get to the start line.
I decided to collect my bib on the Friday to spend most of Saturday off my feet. My Airbnb hosts recommended the best bus routes to the Expo. It would take over an hour but would be a great opportunity to see the city on the way. Emma Y and Sam were going at the same time, so I was excited to meet some Hoops there too. The race info said there was a restaurant at the Expo, so I packed a few snacks and aimed to get a decent lunch there. I collected my bib…now it REALLY was happening! Emma and I went to collect our finisher’s t-shirt (given out before the race). There were 3 big kiosks for the men and 1 small one for the women! Another reminder of the gender imbalance. We had a quick look around the Expo then decided to head off. I couldn’t see the promised restaurant anywhere, and I was getting hungry. To cut a long story (within a long story) short, the restaurant was non-existent apart from a small café. I made do with a croissant and the energy bars in my bag. It was gridlock on the roads, and it took 2.5 hours to get back…a 5-hour round trip to get my bib. I had lunch at 5pm and dinner at 7pm—not the best carb loading before the race, and my stress levels were off the chart. I was so exhausted I had no idea how I would manage the race.
Apart from a couple of hours going down to the start line to soak up the atmosphere, I spent most of Saturday off my feet trying to relax and restore some energy, which was a good thing as I only slept about 5 hours that night (does anyone ever sleep well the night before a big race?). Race day finally arrived, and despite feeling tired, it was exciting to go through the pre-race rituals. I’d snatched up the offer from my Airbnb host to drop me off near the bag drop so I didn’t need to stress about getting there. Signage to the bag drop areas was pretty non-existent, and volunteers weren’t 100% sure where they were either, but I managed to find mine with plenty of time to spare. Roma and I were in the same wave, so we agreed to meet there. Despite not having a bag to drop, she had run down to meet me, smiley and fresh-faced as always! It was hard to believe this was her first marathon. Unlike me, she was cool as a cucumber, reassuring me we still had enough time for a final portaloo stop! We’d shared so many stories during training; it was so lovely to share the experience with her at the start. Our wave was about 800 meters from the start line, but we slowly moved forward, the sound of the crowds getting louder, and finally, we were off! We excitedly wished each other good luck. I knew Roma was faster, so I told her to peel off when she wanted, and soon she headed off in front of me. Time to get down to business. I would keep a close eye on my pace band to make sure I kept as near as I could to my sub-5hr time, but if that felt too much, I knew what time I had to pass the all-important 25k mark. Gel every 30 minutes, caffeine strip every hour. I just broke it down into those sections. After about 10k, my pace was good, but my head felt tired from the stress and lack of sleep. The last part of the race is so much more a mental battle; would I be able to do it?
At various points, the course doubles back on itself, so I kept looking out for other Hoops coming the other way. Emma Y’s Sam passed looking strong! We spotted each other, which always puts an extra spring in your step. Not too long afterwards, I heard a shout, “Saarrraaahh!!!” – Roma passed me looking so good! We frantically waved at each other. I was so pleased it was going so well for her. It was quite noticeable at these points that all the support was focused on the faster runners, so most of our view was of people’s backs. Every now and then, someone would turn around and cheer us on.
I don’t think I ever really relaxed into the race, so it was good to pass the halfway mark. I was ahead of my pace band by at least 5 minutes, but it felt okay, so I kept the pace up. By the time I passed the cutoff at 25k, I was well within the time, which was a massive boost, and the next 5k went really quickly. Then the niggle started in my knee! I slapped on some Voltarol without stopping, then soon after took a gel and a sip of water and immediately got the worst stitch I’ve ever had. It was all going so well too! I tried to push all negative thoughts out of my mind and kept going, albeit at a slower pace and trying not to hunch over. Thankfully, it eased relatively quickly, although it felt like forever at the time. It was getting hotter, so I poured water over my head. At this point, I was just concentrating on the next km marker without thinking any further. I knew I still needed to keep fuelling, so I took my gels slowly, imagining they were a juicy piece of fruit to make them more palatable. I was well within my pace band time but still wouldn’t let myself think how much under the 5hr mark I was – anything could happen still. It was only in the last kilometre when I saw the 800m mark that I knew I was going to do it! By the time I hit that blue carpet to the finish line, I was in tears. My first sub-5hr marathon and a 26-minute PB! I still can’t believe how I did it.
The group chat was buzzing! Roma had an amazing race; I was so pleased for her. I met up with Giles, Tom, and Patrick, and we hobbled off (after the long trek to the bag drop) to find somewhere to celebrate. I will never forget how good that first sip of beer tasted!
Many people have asked me if I enjoyed the race, and I’m never sure how to answer. The lead-up in the last few weeks was incredibly stressful, and the course itself wasn’t the most exciting (except for the start and finish), but no doubt the best thing of all was the incredible camaraderie; it truly feels like a team effort. It wasn’t only the fellow Hoops who joined me in Valencia; it was all the other Hoops who gave me advice and encouragement along the way. So, when in doubt, head to Parkrun, track, or the Wednesday or Sunday social runs and chat to some friendly Hoops; they’re full of great advice and encouragement. I know I would never have achieved what I did in Valencia, or in the last 3.5 years, if I hadn’t joined the best running club ever – fact! #upthepark
