Edinburgh Marathon Festival - Half Marathon 2013

Before I write about the race, a very quick update on the week leading up to it, as it's been a while since I last wrote. It was, to be fair, reasonably non-eventful in the main. (We'll skim over the emergency trip to the dentists on Wednesday....) A couple of early morning pre-work runs, Tuesday's was awful, and I hoped I'd got my 'bad' run out of my system before the weekend. I rested on Wednesday, had Personal Training on Thursday, and rested Friday and Saturday.

Thursday evening I had dinner with Paula and Ianthe, as Paula was up for the weekend to run the half marathon too. In fact, there were going to be a handful from the online running group, and we'd agreed I would catch up with them on Saturday morning, so some of them could do parkrun. Saturday, it has to be said, was stunning. Blue skies, bright sunshine, warm weather - I went up to Cramond to cheer on the girls on their first go at Edinburgh parkrun, which also meant I got to say hi to a few of the regulars up there for the first time in a wee while. It's weird, I kind of miss running there, but at the same time, I have these odd mental blocks with the course, and it's probably in my best interest to do a wee bit of parkrun tourism at the moment. *nods* Regardless, it was great to see some familiar smiley faces. "How come you're not running?" a few of them shot as me as they ran past, or before setting off. "Oh," I breezily remarked (feeling a wee bit smug) "I'm doing the Half tomorrow!" - "Cool, me too!" - damn. I reserve the right to the opinion that having a complete rest day before a big race is a Good Thing, lmao..... Admittedly, many good runners consider a sociable 5km run in the sunshine IS rest!

A quick cuppa with some of the girls afterwards, and then I headed home, while they carried on their sociable catch-up together. I'll be honest, my stomach was starting to churn a bit with nerves for the race. This is daft, I told myself. This is NOT your A-race for the year!! It's not even your B-race! ....Anyway, after a wee bit of online banter with the ultra runners and the ever-increasing gang of supportive experienced running folk, I decided to get an early night. I'd picked out my 'Team Daftie' tshirt to wear again, and I'd sorted out a small post-race bag for the baggage drop-off, as the finish line is so far from the start and I hadn't got as far as planning how I was getting home, so figured 'just in case' I'd take a jacket, bus tickets, cash, that kind of thing. Then, bed.

The morning of the EMF Half Marathon came early. As in, about an hour before my alarm clock said it would. Grrrr. I got up, regardless, as it's a very early start time (8am) and would need me to leave the flat at about 6:45 to walk into town, drop my bag off, and find the start area etc. I ate lightly, but a mix of protein and carbs, and drank a big mug of tea. Dressed with no bother, but then spent a good half hour faffing about with whether I'd wear my Garmin heart rate monitor, and how I'd wear my hair....! Race Day panic, huh?!! :)

I walked the almost-but-not-quite 1½ miles to the start area, in the gorgeous sunshine, and amusingly in a crowd of over 6,000 other runners I almost immediately ran into the two Paula's from the online group! What are the odds, huh??! Paula who I'm supporting at the Ironman UK in a couple of weeks was in the same starting pen as me, and t'other Paula (worrying about how cold she'd be on the hottest day Edinburgh has had in MONTHS, since she normally lives in Dubai....) was a few colour-coded bibs ahead of us. We got settled, and Paula took the chance for a quick photo - you can see how sunshiney it was!

Soon enough, we got started, and Paula and I immediately fell into our own pace, and after maybe 300-400 metres, she slipped away into the crowd. I focussed on putting one foot in front of the other....

My aim for the race was to beat my Glasgow half marathon time of 2:53:45, and I was hoping for sub 2:50 - I'd worked out this meant I needed to average under 13 minute miles, so I told myself I would only check my watch at each mile marker, and if I'd gone over 13 minutes, it would be a key to push a bit harder the following mile. I did the first mile in 10:34. Ummm... By now, though, I'd settled into a slower pace, and was hating how hot it was runnig under the cloudless sky. For the first time in ages, I felt fat and unfit and unhappy. I tried to shake it off, and reminded myself I was carrying a small bottle of water for a reason. I took a few sips, and carried on. Shiortly after, I saw one of the guys from Falkirk parkrun marshalling in the park, so gave him a big smile and wave. Little did he know, I'd already had a walk break at that point... but hey, I was running, and my pace wasn't too bad. Onwards... Coming out of the park and down the hill, I turned a corner to see Helen shouting a warning about the busy road to runners, and shouted and waved to her. "Oh!!! Sarah!", and we dashed across the crowd of runners. "Keep going!" she admonished, pushing me away after a quick hug, and I smiled and plodded on. That was 2 miles, the second of which was at a much more confortable pace of 11:22. This is a pace I was hoping to try and get a few more miles of, but... have I mentioned how hot it was?

We crossed over into Restalrig and Lochend, and ran through the housing estate. There's a nice long downhill here that I've done a few times in training, and I was glad of the chance to run without walk breaks for a wee while, but still - mile 3 was 11:53, and I was evidently slowing already.

The first water station was in Leith Links, and I grabbed a bottle and walked as best I could under the shade of the trees as I sipped. By mile 4, my fingers were swelling up as they sometimes do after an hour or so of running, and I was once again cursing my poor general fitness, and that I still have so much weight to lose. I carried the water for maybe 1 mile in total - sipping from it a little, and splashing some on my hands. I was slowing down - I think my running pace was still okay, but I was putting in more walk breaks, and after another couple of miles, I can't begin to tell you how relieved I was to see the sky start to cloud over, just as I hit the coastline. It was instantly a million times better, but by now I was disspirited, and as I ran along Portobello seafront, I tried desperately to think about something Davie had told me: If you run part of a race route in training, on the day of the race your mind will be able to picture you confidently running this section. Hmmmmm.... nice thought, but my brain isn't so easy to trick.

The next water station is at 5½ miles, and I knew from the route map that there wasn't another one until 9 miles, so I grabbed a bottle with a lid (much to the ire of the water station volunteer, oops) so I could carry this one for a wee bit longer. Along the prom, I ran/walked, with my watch beeping the 6 mile mark at exactly 71 minutes. Whoa!!! That's almost my best 10km time....! (The official results show I cross the '10km timing mat' at around 74 mins - still a very good 10km time for me.)

For the first time all race, I allowed myself to think about the fact that I could actually take quite a big chunk of time off my race PB. I found myself doing some basic sums.... 71 mins for 6 miles, so - say - 143 mins for 12 miles acknowledging I was getting slightly slower as I went on, then add on a 13 minute mile, and round up to the finish line, I could do this race in 2:37-ish. OMG! It was a good thought, and instead of running til the slow count of 30, like most of my running sections had been in the previous miles, I ran to a slow count of 60 before slowing to a walk. Sadly, the walk bit lasted a bit longer than planned to. "I'll start to run again as soon as I reach that bin just up ahead.... ..... .....okay, not the bin, then, but the lamp-post after that .... .... ... oh, not the lamp-post, well, look, okay but you're definitely running when we reach the red brick in the wall.... ummm, why are we still walking?" - I was starting to slow considerably. Mile 8 was my first 13 minute mile, and by that, I actually mean 13:25. I was gutted, but I'd remembered my pre-race aim: whenever I go over 13 minutes, bring it back UNDER in the next mile. The next mile was 12:34 - result! (I will also give the lovely enthusiastic Julie and her gang of Fetchie supporters a wee bit of credit here, I had to pick up into a run when I spotted them up ahead, and keep running til I was out of sight, lol..!)

By now we were running in Musselburgh, and I think this was the first time (but sadly not the last) I saw a runner laid by the side of the road with first aiders/paramedics leaning over them. And a huge pool of vomit alongside. I wondered if the heat had got to them, or whether the exertion of running this far had taken them by surprise; some folk find themselves in the pub a few months before a race, after the 4th or 5th pint remarking 'half marathon? yeah, sure, I can do that.... why not?' without considering the whole training malarkey. Regardless, this one was in good hands. I tried to make sure I ran confidently past the paramedics - didn't want them to stop and said "errrr, you realise your face is the colour of a cooked lobster, and you appear to be losing litres of water through your forehead? Plus, you look kinda unhappy, would you like a hug?"...

However, I was walking more and more at this point. Basically, I felt like I'd given up. I was finding it harder and harder to start running again after a walk break, and when I did, it was getting harder to keep going. I did mile 10 in 13:03, mile 11 in 13:38, and mile 12 in 14:04 - I was struggling, but most definitely it was mentally rather than physically. The route turns back on itself at around about 11½ miles, and when I was at about 12 miles, the sweeper bus (for the 3 hour time limit) went past on the other side of the road. A girl close by yelped aloud in horror, and I laughed: "it's a mile away!" - but I'd be lying if I said I wasnt unnerved to see it. Still, when my watch bzzzed the 12 mile point at around 2:32, I knew I was still on for a PB, albeit nothing like the one I'd thought possible earlier in the race. I know I was moving slowly, but even I could cover 1.1 miles in less than 21 minutes! (As it happened it was closer to 1.3 miles, grrrr, but still!)

I passed the 13 mile marker and soon after turned the corner to the finish line, expecting it just in front of me, but was somewhat disheartened to see a long finish strait ahead. I put my head down, and started to run - a random person in the crowd shouted 'Go Team Daftie' and despite how I'd been feeling, I smiled. Then the online running group of gals started screaming my name, and I spotted them all leaning over the barrier. I gave them a very quick wave, and headed determinedly for the finish line, with a smile. I crossed the line, and stopped my watch. 2:46:31 - a PB by over 7 minutes.

I staggered over to collect my medal - staggering because after I finished I realised my feet weren't in good nick, and I suspected there was a couple of blisters making themselves known (I was right - later inspection revealed 4 deep blisters, sigh). Collecting my gorgeous, stupidly heavy medal (that's sooooo going to weigh down my Christmas tree this year, lol!) and tshirt, I slowly made my way across to the baggage collection point, before pulling off my Team Daftie tshirt and putting the new one on instead. I've discovered that since I became a 'runner' (for wont of a better word) I have a lot less problem with whipping my top off in public........ lol. Caught up with the rest of the girls, listening to their positivity and great race times, and I felt kind of.... flat. As the girls chatted happily, hugged each other and made plans to head back into town, I lay on the grass for a while, staring at the sky and wondering what the f*ck I was going to do about the races later this year. Deflated, and worried, I had to remind myself I had just taken more than 7 minutes off my time. I tried to sound positive, uploading a photo to facebook, but inside I was so frustrated at myself. I had walked far more than I ought to have done, and I hadn't been strong enough fighting that voice inside that tells me I can't run. But there were definitely some positives - my actual running had been okay, no breathing issues, heart rate had seemed under control (I don't know for sure, as I decided against the heart rate minitor), and I had covered over 13 miles without burny-soles of the feet. However, it had solidified one main thing in my mind. I MUST lose more weight. I can't do this, being 2 stone overweight, and generally nowhere near as fit as I ought to be. Losing weight should become my number 1 priority.

...so then I went and bought some chips from a food van. *facepalm*

A few of us moved across to the finish line area, to watch the marathoners start to come in. After chatting with the girls for a bit, sitting in the cooling air, I lay back in the grass, and thought about the race, and about the challenges ahead, and I felt a tiredness engulf me. My eyes closed. Blinking rapidly, I sat up, and decided it was time to head home. I'd previously said I would stay to cheer on some friends running the full marathon, but I knew they were easily an hour away, and I wouldn't last. I crawled away, and headed for the bus stop.

Spotted a few more familiar faces in the crowds as I left, and smiled and chatted like nothing was wrong. I say that, and I'm still not sure what was wrong. I'd just PB'd my second ever half marathon by over 7 minutes!!! I was now a person who had ran TWO half marathons! I felt tired, and drained, and as I sat on the bus and got a phone signal, I could see messages of congratulations start to come in, and it was all I could do not to cry.

So. In short (ha) - I did better than I'd previously thought, at the Edinburgh Half Marathon, but I feel like I let myself down by giving up after halfway, and by not training anywhere NEAR enough up towards race distance. There are some clear lessons for me to learn, and believe me, I'm not giving up on this whole running thing any time soon. I am picking myself up, and moving onwards towards the September and November big races with renewed drive. It's time to beat the wee voices in my head into submission, because I CAN do better, with the right focus, good training and a lot more dedication, and I will. x x