Chapter 18: The Road to Paris, Marathon #8 and The Quest for a sub 3:15

Triumphant! But How Did It Go?

So in the days and weeks since skiing I have tried to balance my insatiable appetite for running every damn day with the dreaded taper.

Mrs S and the family have been applying pressure to slow down/stop etc.. due to the number of reports of seemingly fit middle-aged men just expiring during or after a marathon.

So I have seen the doc, had blood tests, ECG's and even a consultant has looked at my knee to rule out any lasting damage sustained from the last 4 years.

A small business trip in Vienna gave me the opportunity for a 7 mile blast, the Wednesday before the big one and as I sit here on "Journey to Paris Eve" I am super psyched... 3:10 is within my sights.

I am even relishing the prospect of the big push beyond 18/20 miles when you really have to dig in..due in no small part to the fact that I felt the onset of the "despair, WTF am I doing this for? monster" during the recent Spitfire 20.

So to pause writing the blog..and start the journey to the finish line...

We Arrive in Paris
Arrived Friday morning and ended up going to the Expo after lunch. Very well organised and of course invested in some running swag (calf compression bands and a bandana).

The Number

Medical Certificate Accepted

So after a most disturbed night’s sleep (could it have been the anchovies??) 6:30am came and I was awoken by the beeping of car horns… Again – could that have been anything to do with the marathon or sheer coincidence?

The time was just right…I did not however feel confident. Who knows why? I always feel like this.. perhaps something to do with the “taper” but I felt sluggish and was regretting the massive amount of walking and sightseeing we did the previous day (including walking up and down the Eiffel Tower!).

I grabbed a light breakfast, donned my "hazmat suit" and started the long walk to the baggage drop.

The "Hazmat" Suit and Arc de Triomphe

That momunmental feat took a good 45 minutes, after whch point I assembled in my pen and by sheer good fortune, our hotel was adjacent to my starting pen so Nicole found me quickly.

She Has me Where She Wants Me: Behind bars!

I was very very VERY nervous and it wasn’t long before the first half of the 3:15 pen started their race…We were off!

Starting Pen! Nervous Smile

I quickly settled into a 7 minute mile pace even in spite of those pesky cobblestones. After a very quick pit stop at 4 miles I forced myself to get back in the game, always ensuring my average pace did not go above 7:10 (at one point it did and I gave myself an audible verbal slap!).

10k

20k

Half Way Point

30k

I had 2-3 minutes in the bank so decided to maintain this (faster than I had planned) pace. What I had not realised was that the first of the 3:15 pacers had overtaken me during the pit stop so I made it my mission to overtake him to guarantee success.

It was tough…and meant reducing my pace to sub 6:50 between miles 11 and 14.. But I did it, overtook him and settled back into the groove until mile 18.

Things started to slip but amazingly I saw Nicole and the kids shortly after The Grand Palais, my youngest daughter Amelie’s brand new aviator-style sunglasses acting as a beacon! It lifted my spirits no end and I carried on hitting it hard until mile 20.

Appreciating my Ladies Waving and Cheering

I wouldn’t say that I didn't hit the wall, but it was far less intense than I experienced in Pisa (probably because I had not been unwell 3 weeks earlier this time). I soldiered on but my pace was dropping and after the majestic Eiffel Tower we were into the woods and the final stretch.

I had read that this section was tough due to lack of spectators and the reports were correct.
I was thirsty, it was hot and I was starting to tire. But 3:10 was in my sights ….until wee-wee break number 7 took hold.

In retrospect I was dehydrated and urinating was uncomfortable (as it had been at Surrey Spitfire 3 weeks earlier).. This is something I need to address in future races.

But then I was at 24 miles and then 25 and suddenly you were out of the forest and there again was the infamous No 1 3:15 pacemaker…. I picked up my pace to ensure that 3:15 was definitely in the bag.. It damn near killed me and throughout the final stretch towards the finish line I felt absolutely terrible.

But it was over in a flash and as I lurched through the finish gate, I watched as several pour souls wretched and collapsed around me (I hope I wasn't a stinking, quivering mess but you never know!).

The Finish Line: At Last! Mission Accomplished.

My nose was numb: WARNING! I know what is going on here – salt loss and dehydration were taking hold. I needed to replace my electrlytes and fast. One powerade and orange slices seemed to do the trick but as soon as I collected my medal I started to feel faint and tingly…

Nicole was metres away but I couldn’t reach her yet as the “fear” had set in…I forced myself to get up and saw her at the exit.

In Trouble

I was terribly thirsty and alas Nicole had brought no money with her.

I panicked and after turning a delicate shade of white and grey, we trudged towards a café and I quenched my thirst with two glasses of cold, heavenly tap water.

Slowly but shortly I started to feel normal again....

The Course

The Good

• Training (including the 20 mile competitive race)
• Weather (perhaps a little hot)
• The taper (I held back in spite of feeling like an excitable dog on a leash)
• Nutrition (Bananas, oranges, 3 x caffeine shots and 1 x kiwi paste)
• Support (at the start and at the start of “The wall” from my lovely ladies)

The Bad

• Disturbed sleep all week as I was so excited

The Ugly

• Hydration (or lack thereof) contributing to
• Too frequent urination/bladder irritation brought on by excess caffeine methinks

Searching For Nicole at the End

Certificate and Splits