Sometimes I wonder if there is any point writing race reports,

but I keep reminding myself that when I hit the 100 and look back

over these that I will fondly remember some marathons and will

cringe when I recall others. London 2007 will be one of the

middle of the road attempts that I should be really pleased with

but also one that reminds me that big city marathons aren't all

they are cracked up to be. The problems encountered during this

race were more numerous than any other London - this was my 7th

in a row.

Preparation for this was predictably terrible. Having coasted

through the Connemara tester run in February I was thinking that

2007 was going to be my year. I was fit for once, probably in

better shape than I had ever been, and then injury struck me

down... Down and truly out! I couldn't run at all for 8 solid

weeks. Looking at the calendar I got a bit of a shock to see

that London was only three weeks away so I ran 90 miles in 8 days

- and tapered. Mick laughed when I told him I was tapering. His

interpretation of the word taper is that it is a rest period

after several months of high mileage and tough preparation for

the distance. I just wanted a rest.

And so I found myself on yet another marathon start line

unprepared and expecting little else but to finish. All my race

reports lately have mentioned my streak of sub 4's. This was a

mile stone one - a possibility of 15 in a row. But I forced

myself not to even think about time, as the plan was to take it

handy. It was going to be a very hot day too so there was little

possibility of getting out of this unhurt. I packed painkillers

for the first time.

Blue start, just behind the elites, and it was bloody hot. It was

only 9.45 AM and I could feel myself sweating before I started.

We took off and stopped, ran and stopped again and we all

realised that this was going to be a constant battle to find any

road to run on. The first mile took 10 minutes and the second

settled a bit for a 9 minute mile. So that was going to be my

pace, like it or not, I was surrounded by 9 minute mile pacers,

like a wall of runners, I was a prisoner, but happy to be held

back in the extreme heat.

It stayed like this more or less for the entire first half as I

looked forward to seeing the leaders on the opposite side of the

road at mile 13 to 14 as I always do in London, but as I got

closer I realised that I was going much slower than in previous

years and the helicopters overhead told me that they had just

passed.

Ah well, back to my race and concentrate on the pace. Looking

around, loads of people were walking and the heat was obviously

taking it's toll but I was fine, knocking off 9 min miles all the

time, each mile within about 10 seconds of each other. Slow

progress but at a nice calm pace and that was pretty much the

story until mile 20 when I noticed my pace dropping. My head was

playing tricks with me and I couldn't do the maths properly so I

slowed and found myself at mile 22 realising that a sub 4 was

actually off the cards.

I walked to reassess how I was feeling, and you know what, I was

absolutely fine, just wrecked in the head. I redid the maths and

figured out that I had 39 minutes to do the last 4 miles - the

lack of salt had just messed with my calculator and I so I

instantly perked up. Mile 22 to 23 was my fastest mile with an

8:20 so I was really back on track. I relaxed a bit and walked a

few stretches and finally got to mile 25. I now had 13 minutes

to do the last 1.2 and was nicely confident that would be easy

enough, and so relaxed a bit more.

Crossing the line with 50 seconds to spare I was amazed that I

had achieved another sub 4. A lot of team mates that should have

finished in around the 4 hour mark, crashed and burned, finishing

in the 4:30's and 4:40's.

I felt bad for them, but good for me.

Roll on Vienna!

Ray

29 down 71 to go.