Virgin London Marathon 2011

Following the Reading Half Marathon I decided I was going to alter things, and as a result I made some small but effective changes to my plans in the final weeks before London. I think I did make a good decision.

My run at Reading was well below what I expected but certainly didn’t concern me. I was surprised with my positive reaction to that run and concentrated on my running, recording a 110 mile week to round off the highest volume phase of my training.

That week featured an extremely encouraging session at Bedford Park. I did six efforts of just under 2km off 60 seconds recovery and ran them fast, comfortably and consistently. I’d already decided I didn’t need to race the Oakley 20 that Sunday so chucked the race number in the bin - this was a very good decision in hindsight.

I pushed on through the weekend and ran 25 miles on my own on the Sunday, three weeks out from marathon race day. I got quicker in the final miles of that run and was clipping off 6:10 pace without overly exerting myself. Things were looking good.

Unfortunately, as soon as I walked in through the front door at home after that 25 miler, depleted of glycogen and with my immune system low, I contracted my wife’s cold. This took a grip during the evening. I didn’t panic at this stage – I knew I was going to train through it and as it was just a head cold, it would be fine.

I ran with the snots and a nasty chest and cough all week, and decided I would forget about overly pushing myself by doing any sessions. That week was the least satisfying week of training and I was starting to look forward to the taper. The virus wasn’t giving up; it was holding on and by the end of the week was as fierce as ever. What was encouraging was that I was running near to and under 6:00 pace ‘in my sleep’, the effort to run at this pace was almost zero whereas weeks earlier I would have needed to at least concentrate to run that fast. The 18 miler I ran two weeks before race day at near 6:00 pace was a real boost and didn’t feel like a massive effort at all.

I took a planned day off in the hope I could kick the virus for good as it was bugging me but I felt worse following this and on a lonely Tuesday morning 12 days before London I had to cut short my first attempt at a session for well over a week. Rather than do eight Russell Park reps of 870 metres I had to make do with stopping after four – this usually never happens. I was physically exhausted and went home to rest. This was a feature of an arrangement with my employer as I had decided to take a job offer elsewhere and was essentially on gardening leave, so recuperation was no problem.

The next few days I was a bit low and concerned. I went on antibiotics to kick the virus and eased my training right back – not the volume but the pace. However, I was finding it hard to jog any slower than 6.30 pace – which was good news in terms of fitness I suppose, but I’d had to compromise my build up and pulled out of doing a 12 stage leg for my club. Not ideal.

Gradually, two weeks after getting the cold, it started to ease off. I was feeling strangely light-headed but put this down to the antibiotics that I knew would be out of my body by race day.

In the final week I felt in control but my confidence had started to ebb away. What if the virus has held on? What effect will the lack of speed sessions have on me? I’ve been running for quite a few years and know it is common to feel terrible during the taper. However, what was beneficial was injecting some quick one mile efforts into a couple of runs and these had been pretty swift and provided a shot of self-assurance at just the right time, without overly taxing me.

By race weekend I was calm. ‘What will be, will be’ I reckoned. I had the usual positive thoughts one minute and negative ones the next. I set off for the hotel the night before with my wife and was quite relaxed. I was full of carbs and well hydrated and rested. I’d had some real quality time with my daughter during my time away from work. I was generally very happy with life and in hindsight I was in a great place for nailing this marathon.

We joined my brother who was aiming for a sub-3 clocking and my Dad at the hotel and we went out for a fantastic Pizza and loads of water before watching El Classico on Sky Sports. I went to bed and straight to sleep, no problem.

The next morning I forced down half a litre of PSP22, a Mars Bar and coffee with gallons of water and set off for the start with my brother. A fairly smooth journey saw us at Blackheath well over an hour before the gun and I said goodbye to him and went into the AAA’s area and found a spot on my own after saying hello to a few faces, including Dave Norman and Steve Way. I felt great when I look back on it now, and the atmosphere in there was quite upbeat considering the task ahead.

I had been a little concerned about the warm weather forecast but at this hour it was almost a bit chilly. I gave up my kit bag and laced up my racers tight, Powerbar gel tucked into shorts. We made our way to the start after an absolute minimal warm up and congregated behind the cream of the World’s marathon runners. I was tucked in behind a certain Martin Lel. About 50 miles away my daughter was waving at her Dad on TV as I was stood behind a tall, very skinny bloke and one of the fastest marathon runners on the planet.

The gun popped and I immediately needed a piss. This was typical. I was feeling pretty good apart from this. The group ahead of me featuring Steve Way had formed and I was sitting off them. One of them had a quick piss from the side of his shorts. I did consider this myself for a millisecond.

After a couple of miles I was running alongside an RAF runner and Richard Scott of Highgate. This was uncanny – I had run almost the entire Reading Half Marathon with Richard and was now about to run the streets of London with him.

We stayed together for a good few miles, talking to each other and establishing how we were all feeling. Richard and I exchanged a few comments about Reading and what was quickly apparent was our mood was fairly alike. I started to feel extremely positive - and my need for a piss had passed.

I’d reckoned on 5.25 pace and 16.50 every 5km to bring me home in 2.22 – allowing for a bit of slowing. This would see me finally take my PB down. The early miles were well inside this and we passed 10 miles in a tad over 53.30. I had only just realised the RAF guy was my club teammate Steve Robinson in his RAF vest, I mentioned this to him and within a couple of miles he’d dropped off the group. It was now me and Richard through the half way in 70.22. We were both feeling good, swapping water and comments. My wife saw me at Tower Bridge and she couldn’t believe we were chatting as we passed her.

I knew, and have experienced, how quickly things change in the Marathon so I wasn’t getting carried away, neither was Richard. The 5km splits continued to be very encouraging and as I’d gone through the halfway ahead of schedule I had capacity to let the time slip and still run a PB. I was gutted to run past Dave Norman as he held his hamstring, clearly struggling with it as he pulled to the side of the road.

We hit 20 miles in 1.48'02. I’d taken my gel and plenty of water. I was feeling very good. So seemingly was Richard. I’d looked at the map of the course and always felt it was a straight run to the finish from 20 along the embankment. This was a massive boost. I was strong and moving well, keeping myself splashed with water as the sun started to break through.

Mile 22 came and went and we passed Lee Troop, the Aussie I’ve known and followed since we met at Boulder in 2003 – a top lad. I shouted some encouragement at Lee as I passed and shortly after this I saw my wife and Dad at 23 miles. I was digging in now and gave my wife the thumbs up. My calves were getting sore and I was worried about cramping but deep down knew this was going to be a good day.

At 23 miles neck and neck with Richard Scott

My emotions came to boil in the final couple of miles. We hit 25 miles where the train out to Blackheath had passed that morning and I’d made a mental note of just how much running would happen between that train journey and seeing the 25 mile marker again.

I was strong and into the final mile - the PB was on. As we entered Birdcage Walk Richard said something like “every second James” but it could have been something else. I was hurting but didn’t really want to be anywhere else at that point. This was the race I’d been waiting for. The crowds were huge; people were making so much noise. The atmosphere was off the scale. My good mate John Jales shouted through a loudspeaker, but I’ve no idea what he said.

The finish was just immense and just off adrenaline I had nudged ahead of Richard by four seconds to run a new PB 2.22'36 in 32nd place. I went absolutely mental across the line (see video below). Richard and I had raced the entire distance together and I’d have to say that was a big difference for me on the day.

It was all a bit emotional and a bit of a blur at the end. Suffice to say I’ve been chasing a marathon PB for eight years and was starting to doubt it could be done as I’ve gotten older. Injury and other factors have also made things a challenge but I just didn’t want to give up. The DNF at Amsterdam in 2005, hitting the wall in Lisbon and Marrakech, pulling out of London with Achilles problems in 2009 – they’d all lead up to this day.

5km splits: 16.29, 16.29, 16.52, 16.54, 16.43, 17.12, 17.18, 17.12 last 2.2km in 7.27

10km: 32.58, 10 miles: 53.31, Half: 70.22, 20 miles: 1.48'01

1. Emmanuel Mutai (KEN) 2.04'40
2. Martin Lel (KEN) 2.05'45
3. Patrick Makau (KEN) 2.05'45
...
32. James Lawler, (Bedford & County)  2.22'36