Race Information

Goals

Goal Description Completed?
A Sub 3:31 Yes
B Sub 3:15 Yes
C Sub 3:10 No

Splits

Kilometer Time
1 4:41
2 4:31
3 4:25
4 4:24
5 4:26
6 4:30
7 4:27
8 4:25
9 4:25
10 4:22
11 4:26
12 4:23
13 4:26
14 4:22
15 4:15
16 4:15
17 4:22
18 4:22
19 4:23
20 4:20
21 4:21
22 4:27
23 4:29
24 4:34
25 4:28
26 4:31
27 4:38
28 4:43
29 4:44
30 4:40
31 4:42
32 4:52
33 4:48
34 5:00
35 5:05
36 5:00
37 4:56
38 4:48
39 4:49
40 4:48
41 4:46
42 4:36
.2 1:18

Background

Me: 42-year-old male, running for 2.5 years. 193cm, 86kg.

Current PBs: 5K 19:34, 10k 40:54, HM 1:28, Marathon 3:13

I ran my first marathon in London in April, in a time of 3:31:33. I then had surgery to remove my appendix in May. Are these two things related? According to the surgeon who laughed when I asked him about, no.

I ran very easy in June/July before beginning a 20-week block for Valencia. Being my second block of the year, I could have done fewer weeks, but I wanted a slow ramp up to the race after taking basically the whole of May off. On reflection, this may have been overkill.

Post-surgery I followed sub-threshold/NSA training principles, building up to 4 easy runs a week, limited to 70% of my Max HR, and 3 sessions with sub-threshold intervals. The adaptation I made (based on common wisdom) was to put one of these sub-T sessions in my Saturday long run, so each 2h30m run had a block of faster mileage included, which I gradually increased through the block.

A note on weight: I also dropped from 100kg to 86kg over the course of the block. I did this by tracking calories and leaving a slight deficit (I stopped doing this during the last month of the block). I simply felt too heavy in London, and wanted to race lighter this time.

Training

The mantra this block was consistent mileage. I ran over 80km for the first 16 weeks of the block (more on this below), and over 90km in 10 of those weeks. I progressed well for the first 12 weeks, running accidental PBs in almost every distance during training runs.

I also ran a few personal bests on purpose, including my first sub-20 minute 5k in 20 years, and my Half-Marathon PB in 1:28 in Cardiff, a 10 minute improvement.

The next 4 weeks everything got faster. I was so fit that my easy paces at 70% of Max HR were below 4:50/km. Instead of keeping my easy paces between 5:40-6:00/km, I sped them up to match my HR effort, and to help fit in the extra mileage I was pushing for.

This, coupled with very little in the way of strength training, laid the foundation for what came next.

By week 13 my 1km interval pace dropped to 3:56/km, and my 3km interval pace was 4:08/km, again this was at sub-T, not all out. My long runs were also incredibly consistent. I ran over 20 miles (32km) six times, which I only managed once before London Marathon. I ran over 30km on ten separate occasions. Summer really makes a difference to a marathon block.

Then the weather turned and the bottom fell out of my training plan.

At the beginning of week 15, my left achilles tendon started to feel tight and sore. Rather than let it rest, I immediately loaded the tendon with low reps of eccentric and isometric calf raises with very heavy weight.

This made the tendon feel great and meant I could run pain free or in the 1-2/10 range most days. I managed to finish week 15 & 16 (peak week, 110km) this way.

But I was also causing myself further injury. By jumping to a heavy weight instead of gradually loading the tendon, I pissed off the achilles insertion points on the medial side of both of my heels. Nice one, dickhead.

To help it calm down I backed off the weight and began cross training every other day. I did my interval runs on the treadmill (flat is good for achilles tendinopathy), and used a Zero Runner (elliptical) for my easy runs. Running slow wasn't a problem, but anytime I got up towards goal marathon pace (4:15 or faster), the tendon immediately started to get upset.

Weeks 17 and 18 I managed to trade-off running and cross training. I considered this an early taper, trying to keep some pace work on interval days but my equivalent long runs – 2h30m on an elliptical — were all at easier efforts.

Week 19 was all cross training. Week 20, the week of the race, I cross-trained and managed 3 short runs at very easy paces without pain (shout out to EJ, my physio for the confidence boost)

After taper, my Runalyse prediction had gone from 3:01 to 3:08. My Stryd footpod had gone from 3:08 (+/- 3mins) to 3:16 (+/- 3mins).

Pre-race

Is it sensible to run a marathon with achilles tendinopathy? No. But I was over £1000+ in the red thanks to flights, accommodation and race entry. Not to mention shoes, gels, and nutrition. I knew my fitness was good, so I got on the plane and hoped for the best.

I didn't know how long the achilles would hold up in the race, and didn't enjoy the prospect of running for 3+ hours in a lot of pain. I decided I would stop running if the pain went above a 5/10, and downgraded my sights from an unadjusted BQ (sub 3:05), to a PR (sub 3:31).

The morning of the race I woke up at 4:30am and topped off my carbs with 2 pots of instant porridge oats and a Maurten 320. I'd done a 3 day carb load at 800gm+ per day, and was feeling good about it, if a little full. Trusting that feeling, I skipped my scheduled bagel.

For London, my carb load left me overly bloated with a sensitive gut during the race, so this time I reduced my intake from 12g per kg of bodyweight to around 10g per kg.

I prioritised rice, oats, and gluten-free pasta, along with Maurten 320s, rather than my previous approach of "any carb counts," which meant relying too heavily on sugary cereals, cookies and candy.

The microwave rice pouch is a game changer, and I'd recommend it for travel when cooking options are limited.

The buses in Valencia weren't running, at least not the route myself and many others were trying to take. My friend Tom and I got an Uber instead, which would have got us to the start line in plenty of time if I hadn't left my phone in it!

Several minutes of panic ensued, trying to get a call through to the driver (thankfully Tom had booked the ride and had his number), and after three dropped calls, I managed to get through. The relief was quickly tempered by the fact he was 1km away.

I wasn't planning to do a warm up run, hoping to stay off my feet and rest the tendon as much as possible, but marathons rarely go exactly to plan. I dodged, dipped, ducked, dived, and dodged through crowds of runners and managed to retrieve my phone.

There were a very small number of portaloos available and I'm not proud of the very massive piss (in excess of two minutes, possibly approaching three) that I took against the concrete wall of a municipal building in downtown Valencia.

But needs must, and like they say after a riot, presumably: everyone else was doing it, your honour.

I walked to the poorly sign-posted corral by following the orange-coloured bibs of other runners. Upon entering the pen I saw Kofuzi warming up, and said a very quick hello. Very nice chap.

I did my warm ups, slapped on some sunscreen, downed a Precision PF 30 with caffeine, and played a few hype songs on my Airpods. Game on.

A note on the weather: much in the way water is wet, Spain be hot. And Valencia was planning on being historically hot, with forecasts in the low 20s Celsius. When I ran London it was also in the low 20s. I struggled badly in the heat that day, as did many others. I taped extra salt pills to my PF30 gels and also added sodium to my hand bottle, just in case.

1-14km

Gun time was just after 8:40am and temperatures were still in the mid-teens Celsius. There was a generous and welcome breeze, and unlike in windswept Cardiff, it was strong enough to cool but not to slow.

First kilometre I went out very easy. I was wearing the same ASICS Metaspeed Sky Tokyos that I'd PR'd in in Cardiff (albeit with a new notch cut out of the heel counter to give my achilles some breathing room).

I settled into a pace around the 4:25 mark, and for the first hour I ran calm, cool and collected. This was a genuinely pleasant pace, more in line with my training paces on my long runs. If I'd been fully healthy, I would have tried to pace the first hour the exact same way.

My fuelling strategy, which was the same as Cardiff, was a gel every 20 mins, or 90g of carbs per hour. That's ten gels, and two spares. I may be 12kg lighter than I was in London, but I'm still a sizeable unit, and moving this much me that far needs proper fuel.

I also planned on taking on 500mg of salt per hour, in the form of 250mg Precision sodium pills. I've run with these taped to my gels many times over the past few years (a strategy I picked up from Eric Floberg).

This strategy worked perfectly, as I'd expected from a well-tested approach. I managed to take in all 10 gels on time, without dropping any, though I skipped out on a couple of salt tabs in the third hour, more on that later.

A note on pain: I started feeling my achilles from about 6-7km. When I say feeling it, I mean a sensation, rather that pain. It wasn't annoyed yet, but it was starting to talk to me.

14-28km

I hit 14km just after the hour mark, right on schedule. Still breathing easy, still running easy, but becoming slowly more aware of my achilles.

This is where, with two working legs, I would have pushed toward goal pace and stayed there for the next hour. And I tried, hitting the next two splits at 4:15/km, but thought better of it because it wasn't that day.

Around 10am, with roughly 1hr20 elapsed, I popped 2 paracetamol I'd brought with me, hoping they'd dampen the pain to come, confident that they wouldn't upset my stomach (they didn't).

10am is also when I started feeling the heat. I watched as the degrees rose each time I passed one of the digital displays lining the course. I hugged the tangent line and hoped it wouldn't be a scorcher.

I came through the half in 1:33, bang on target for the sub 3:10.

This is where the race got hard. Whether my push to 4:15 had upset my tendons, or whether there was a slight change in incline, or if the tendon had just hit its limit after an hour and a half of running, something changed.

My pace slipped by five seconds a kilometer, then ten. My left achilles was getting very sore, and the back of my right calf, which was compensating for the left, was noticeably struggling. My lungs felt fine, my HR was in the right place. I was just losing power. After moving so well for so long, everything was starting to fall apart.

It was like one of those dreams where you need to run but you can't make your body do it. I gritted my teeth and gutted it out as best I could.

I focused on what I could control. I started alternating bouts of heel striking with my usual forefoot strike to try and provide some relief. I focused on hitting my gels on time. I refilled my hand bottle with water from the course. I nursed the tangent line.

What I didn't do was put in my Airpods and hit play on my last 10km playlist. I wanted to, more than anything. But I knew if I played that card now, I'd be struggling in the last few miles once the hype wore off. I had to save it.

I was now being passed every few seconds. I kept my eyes on the road ahead, and focused on moving forward by any means necessary.

28-42.2km

There are surprisingly few photos of me grimacing in agony. The pain seemed to hit a five out of ten and stay there. It's sort of like getting a tattoo: A constant, gnawing pain you have to live with for hours. You learn to live with it. You chose to do it, and it sucks, but it'll be over soon and you'll have a sweet tattoo (or medal) to show for it.

As a wise man once said: Pain is temporary, chicks dig scars, glory lasts forever.

Two things happened next. At 30km, I put my Airpods in and transcended reality with a series of stone cold bangers designed to hype me, specifically, out of my damn mind. I wasn't running any faster, in fact, I was still slowing down. But damn if I didn't feel better.

Then I passed the 32km mark in 2:25. This was a significant moment, because I knew if my achilles could just hang on, I'd be in line for a PR. Not only a PR, a big one. Because if I was doing my maths right, the sub-3:15 was still on. I just had to make my legs turnover somehow.

I tried to focus on what did work. My lungs were fresh. My heart was fine. I might not have had the wheels, but I had the engine. I just had to keep moving.

Between 30-40km, I averaged 4:54/km. Slower than my low HR easy paces in training, but faster than my overall London Marathon average pace.

Then I noticed that despite my troubles, I wasn't just being passed: I was passing others. Yes, I'm I was pain, but I was moving better than those runners were. That, and the music, is what got me through.

Another saving grace was the weather. The temperature was high, but there was a much cooler air feel owing to the breeze and the amount of shade on the course. I skipped my final salt two salt tabs since I wasn't sweating manically.

The last couple of kilometres I was scanning for a mile marker, too scared to look at my watch. With the crowds lining the streets growing in number and voice, I knew we were closing in. Then a sign: 900m to go. Then 800m. Everyone picked up a step.

As we entered the City of Arts and Sciences, with the finish line in sight and Faith No More battering my eardrums, I gathered myself and closed, somehow, in a sprint.

I crossed the line in 3:13:33. An 18-minute personal best. From Out of Nowhere.

Post-race

Race directors, please don't make the people who just ran a marathon walk another 5km to get to the meeting area. If you are a race director and have a good excuse for this, I'm here to tell you that you, in fact, don't.

I hobbled forward as best as I could to collect my medal. I could barely move. A moment ago I was sprinting and now every step was agony. I shed a tear from the effort. I nearly lost the contents of my stomach at the sight of Powerade.

After I found my wife and my friend Tom (who also ran a PR – 2:44:33!), we made our way to a cafe. I drank a beer and sank an order of fries. I felt better than I had after any of my long runs. I know I have so much more in the tank, and I'm excited to see what I can do next time.

Injury or no, the time you were training towards only exists in your head. There's a much more valuable time, out there on the course, waiting to be earned.

Made with a new race report generator created by u/herumph.