I came up with the title of this race report while standing on
the start line of the Vienna marathon, as apprehensive as always.
Granted it was only a week since London but I still got a chuckle
out of it.
So here I was, number 30, the big threeeee zerooooo. I should
have been excited, but really it was just another marathon. You
would assume with such experience I'd be very well prepared in
advance of this race, but I have found that experience brings
complacency, and complacency spells trouble. I couldn't believe
it, I was actually shaking my head in disbelief, that I was
standing at our hotel reception with just 12 hours to race start,
asking for safety pins, plasters and Vaseline.
Try to picture yourself explaining to a young girl with very
little English why you wanted two plasters...no, not one,
two...what for? Despite the fact that I tried to explain that
they were nipple protectors she happily provided all three
essential items. Unprepared? This was just ridiculous. I
remember laying out my entire running gear 12 days in advance of
my 3rd marathon, making sure everything fitted, was washed at
least twice, and was fully equipped with all the little
forgettables. Whereas in Vienna, I was lucky that I packed
runners.
Vienna was proving to be an absolutely beautiful city,
architecture, shopping, restaurants, hotels, it really has it all
and I was loving this trip with my 13 year old son Aaron. He
accompanied me to registration the day before and all we talked
about was how hot it was and how important my hydration strategy
was. He was a big part of my plans as I had decided to bring two
High5 bottles of energy gel, one for each half. Aaron was to
meet me at mile 13 which we visited the evening before. It was
very hot though, so I was nervous about that, but once again I
had no time goal in mind.
There was an amazing buzz at the start area, with fantastic music
blaring out, big welcomes being announced, introduction of elites
and the usual housekeeping being taken care of. I was smiling to
myself as once again I was counting how many bags each truck was
transporting back to the finish area and how the sorting process
was being managed - the Connemarathon will never leave me.
The hooter sounded at 10:00 and we were off. I spent the first
two miles working out a strategy and decided to try to do 27:30
per 5K and assess my situation at each 10K - but this
well-planned and long-thought-out strategy was quickly aborted
when there was no clock to be seen at the first 5K. Another
blind one then. I really enjoyed the course, through parks,
streets, city and suburbs and there were several parts to be run
two and even three times so it was actually nice to see the 28K
mark early on and dream of cruising past it at the same speed as
I was doing just then.
I felt the usual stiffness until I loosened up at mile 10 - yes
people, I have been known to take up to 10 miles to completely
relax and get into proper comfortable running. I was actually
feeling really good up to half way. But disaster was about to
strike, or so it seemed when there was no sign of Aaron at 13. I
panicked for a little bit and then copped myself on. Who cares
if it takes 5 hours, it's number 30. Enjoy. So that is what I
did: relaxed and enjoyed.
Cut to the exciting bit, which happened at 32K as I was still
cruising along, I saw the 35K on the opposite side of the road
and the aid station was giving out COCA COLA(TM)!!!!!! Oh my
god, I was exhilarated, excited... I just wanted to jump up and
down and shout YES. I absolutely crave Coke after a marathon and
this was the first time I had ever seen it given out at an aid
station. Fair play Vienna I thought - bloody marvellous. I ran
as fast as I could to my oasis at 35K and downed two full cups of
coke, filled up my water bottle, and walked on like the cat that
got the cream. I was totally fizzed up.
My race was over - I was in a zone, I was tired, I didn't know
what time it was, I didn't care, my head was wrecked, I just
wanted to finish. The sugar rush was better than getting that
coveted medal. I decided to walk 100 metres at every K marker
and assumed a 4:15 finish. Curiosity got the better of me at 39K
so I asked a girl what time it was... 13:30 - crap! Had I not
given up I would have been close to a PB. This picked me up and
I ran to the finish, which I have to say is up there with the
best of them for atmosphere and scale. 3:47 was my finish time -
I really don't know where that came from.
Spent the usual 10 minutes trying to get sick and gradually got
myself together and slowly drifted away from the finish area -
again shaking my head in disbelief - asking where the hell that
time came from. Big smiles. Thanks Vienna. Roll on Belfast.
Ray
30 down 70 to go.
PS Aaron got blocked into an area that he couldn't cross to our
pre-arranged meeting point.