Striders Spotlight: St Albans Marathon

 

In 1984, during the first official meeting of St Albans Striders, Phil Hallman suggested setting up a marathon in St Albans. Phil pitched the idea to the newly formed club after finding a number of people who would be interested in taking part in a local marathon. At the time the country was seeing a boom in people taking up running thanks to new events like the London Marathon. 

Does the perfect race exist? - Brighton Marathon 2013

I hated science at school, mainly because of the teachers and partly because I felt too dumb. So when people get a bit ‘sciency’ about running, it kind of goes over my head (feel free to add your own pun here if you wish).... 

I can just about deal with tempo runs, interval sessions (as long as Mike or Glads are instructing) and steady runs but I wouldn't know a lactate threshold, VO2 max or optimum heart rate if it smacked me in the face. 

But I have decided that maybe there is a formula (could be maths, I suppose) to get your ideal marathon time. Possibly: 

Training + health + race conditions + luck – injury x mental attitude = perfect marathon? 

Training: my training had gone really well until first week of March, slightly smugly I had ticked off all the sessions on my training plan, even in the never-ending snow and ice…until my IT band started complaining. 

Health: No coughs/colds or other ailments since before Christmas and even my son had the decency to be sick over a bank holiday so no runs missed then. 

Race conditions: the Saturday I arrived in Brighton to pouring rain and almost gale force 
winds but they had calmed to a cool, damp morning with a breeze but nowhere near as windy on race day, and the sun made an appearance later as well. 

Luck: hmmm, the choice of toilet queue wasn't my best decision, meaning I started behind the 4:15 pacer, despite wanting or hoping rather optimistically for 3:30 

Mental attitude: patchy! Until my first 20 mile run was feeling confident that I could and would be able to break 3:30 this year. Having a slight injury (or is niggle the correct Strider terminology?) gave me the usual uncertainty and doubts. 

A few days before my mother-in-law said, ‘I don’t think you’ll make it, not with how your legs been, no you won’t get all the way round.’ Now I am allowed to think this but having someone else vocalise it gave me the motivation that I WILL FINISH! 

The race: told myself I would not do the same as last year and start late because of an ill-judged toilet queue but in the words of Britney Spears, ‘Oops I did it again!’(men: you don’t know how lucky you are!!). Maybe I would make up the time? Well I did a little but after 10 miles I knew a PB wasn't going to happen. 

But I wasn't too disappointed. I stopped checking my Garmin, I missed some of the mile markers, I gave my sis a hug when I saw her, I gave lots of small children a high 5 and it was really liberating to enjoy the atmosphere without being bothered by time. 

My hip started to hurt but not unbearably so, at mile 17 .Without the pressure of a PB I didn't mind having to slow down. I passed a man I knew at mile 20 and that spurred me on as I wanted to stay ahead. By mile 22 the pain was worse but I knew it would be more painful to walk so kept running, slowly. (The walk uphill back to Brighton station was almost as bad as the marathon!)  

smiling into the finish

The last 3 miles were full of crowds, cheering, music and general partying which helped and I knew a super-speedy friend was looking out for me. I checked off the beach huts, the West pier, the Grand Hotel, the Palace pier, the big wheel, and finally the finish. I was so chuffed. I remembered to smile as I crossed the line with a miserable looking superman. And it wasn’t even a personal worst!

Conclusion: Before, I said I wasn’t interested in running it if I didn’t think I could get a PB. Now I have changed my mind. Despite the pain, it was a brilliant race. No water bottle, no i-pod, minimal chatting and minimal Garmin checking and it was still just as exciting….but I still haven’t let go of my sub 3:30 dream…maybe I should invest in a she-wee for next year?...Maybe the perfect race doesn’t exist? 

Helen Cartlidge

Photo finish - Adam W's London Marathon

Hi folks, hope you enjoy the first of the Striders' tales from the 2012 London Marathon! Over to Adam W to tell his story......

 

I’d strained and strained to remember every last intricate detail of what was my first full marathon. Unfortunately, my memories were blurred into a maelstrom of noise and colour, pain and elation, exhaustion and glucose. 

Blurred that is, until I was shown a series of photos taken by my family and girlfriend at various points along the marathon route. 

Then it all came flooding back.

Mile 11 - ecstatic

The first, taken at mile 11, shows a pristine Striders vest, with a relaxed and happy looking owner, grinning at the camera, giving cheerful thumbs up. The background of the photo shows a relatively disperse crowd of people and I remember how ecstatic I felt at mile 11. Ecstatic as I was no longer crushed and stunted by hordes of people running frustratingly below the pace I craved. Ecstatic because I felt great, like I’d only run 1 mile instead of 11. Ecstatic as I’d just seen my family and girlfriend who’d come to support me. And ecstatic because I was finally running the London marathon after three disappointing years of failed applications.

Mile 24 - fatigued

The second, taken at mile 24, shows a sodden and dishevelled Striders vest, with an unconscious looking owner, eyes closed with a fatigued hand feebly raised in acknowledgement of his support crew. I remember how hard that mile was, how time dragged and I seemed to be looking at my Garmin every few strides, assuming it was broken as time was moving so slowly. I remember feeling confused at how something that had initially felt so easy, was now so draining.

 

The final photo, taken seconds after crossing the finish line, shows a Striders vest, blue writing partially obscured with red and gold medal, the owner sporting the most exhausted and yet contented face imaginable. And I remember the feeling of sheer rapture and euphoria. The satisfied feeling of knowing that the four months of missed binges with friends and perpetual heavy, sore legs had made the preceding three hours, fourteen minutes and sixteen seconds one of the most poignant milestones in my life to date.

Mile 26.3 - exhausted yet contented