Run a Marathon

Malta Marathon February 2016

Leaving Clare and week old baby daughter at home, I was off to Malta to run the Vodafone Marathon.  

The last 6 weeks of training had been sporadic, reduced and way off plan, but the reasons for this were the most amazing. Isabella, our newly born daughter, had caused absolute chaos whilst still in mummy's tummy and I could not venture too far away from our abode for fear of an early arrival. With the reduction in training also came the reduction in fitness, stamina and pacing.  Without getting excuses in early, I knew the sub 4 hour goal would be a serious achievement, but based on the gradient graph supplied by Malta Marathon, this would be the perfect place to do it.  Exhausted from nights of broken sleep and missing my baby daughter already, I boarded flight HPHI9X destined for Malta

As I took my first step towards the plane, I heard a friendly Yorkshire accent behind me announce, "so you running the marathon as well?", it was either down to my trainers or any marathon runner just must look insane, either way I had met my first fellow runner, Emma. Emma  had completed the Yorkshire marathon in October and was doing the Malta one to fuel the newly found passion.  She told me that I too would have this buzz once I crossed the finish line.  I have been told this by so many people, but I already am happy to confirm this challenge as a one off.

With all passengers safely boarded, we began our flight.  I remained slightly nervous thoughout the 3 hour flight as I noticed that runners seemed to congregate into little groups and discuss other marathons they had completed, other runs and other times.  I had nothing to chirp in the conversation with, I was an newbie to this world.

The morning after, I noticed that the main coastal run around the bays of Sliema were full of runners, strollers, joggers and any form of fitness possible.  The streets were packed with trainers.  Surely all these people cannot be taking part in the marathon/half marathon tomorrow? Surely they should be resting? or should I be out doing this, should I be getting in some preemptive miles? More nerves set in. 

I headed for the finish line to see where the race would end, but also get a feel for the temperature, terrain and general vibe of the city, here is were I had my next running encounter.  Seeing a yellow tshirt come hurtling passed me with the words "Great Wall of China Marathon" displayed on it, I knew this guy must have done a big run before (and a tricky one at that) so I asked him for advice on my first venture.  "Just enjoy it, don't worry about the time on your first one, just take in the atmosphere, meet people and cross the line".  Malta was his 120th Marathon so I think he may have known what he was taking about.

The finish line was on the main street of Sliema adorned with bars and restaurants on one side and the marina on the other.  The view round the bay took you all the way to Valetta, our penultimate area before the finish line...it seemed a long way away!  Whilst posing for pictures, I was hailed by a couple of runners who were also doing the run and gave me a "good luck" acknowledgement.  The atmosphere around the area was electric, the running bug was grabbing hold and I was beginning to get excited about the 26.2 journey I was about to embark upon.

Sunday 28th February, 5am, I awoke to a sleepy wake up call and two alarms, I was not oversleeping and missing this day!  A quick E9 drink, slab of Soreen Malt Loaf and grabbing all my gear I was ready for the journey to begin.  I had left my old mobile phone with mile sponsorship, pacing times and mantra's in my camera bag which I had given to my dad for finish line photo's so my planned distraction of a vlog and run selfies was out of the window.  I headed for the bus to the start line.

When we arrived in Mdina, I felt completely overwhelmed, I was on my own surrounded by runners.  People who knew what they were doing, they all seemed to be heading in the right direction, doing the right things and stretching in the right way.....I ambled for a few minutes looking for inspiration. All of a sudden I heard a once familiar Yorkshire Accent, "Eh up Captain America" (I was wearing my Captain America base layer), it was Emma, she was sat on a bench drinking Cappucino looking very relaxed chatting with a couple of fellow runners who looked equally relaxed.  This was the group I needed, these people would help me on this journey and maybe calm me down.

Emma and new run friend John took me under their wing.  Emma offered comedic advice and photobombing humour whilst John offered a helping hand for the first half of the marathon and great advice on how to tackle to route ahead.  All worries and anxiety I had entered the gates of Mdina with had evaporated.  Emma had told of her previous marathon where a fellow runner thanked her for being an excellent pacer and providing a "great arse" for him to follow.  John again told me not to aim for a time on this run, but simply to pace it well and enjoy the experience, he knew what he was talking about.

Time progressed quickly and it was not too long until we were at the start line counting down.  With Garmin watches bleeping and cheers emitting from runners about to embark on an epic journey I felt sick with nerves and excitement, we were off.

Our starting journey took us out of Mdina, The Silent City and into the Craft Village and Stadium surround town of Ta'Qali and Attard.  We looped this somewhat unpicturesque venue multiple times and in the searing morning heat, the white buildings and white roads glared the intensity back at you.  Only 8 miles in and I was starting to struggle.  During my home runs I had carried water in a camelpak, but I was relying on the provisions of the Maltese Scout Clubs for my rations this time, and they seemed few and far between.  At mile 8, I started to struggle

I was conscious of slowing John down as I wanted him to achieve the best possible time for him, but also wanted him to impart as much marathon knowledge as possible.  When should I use gels, what are the sponge stations for, how much training should I have done.  I noticed around the 8 mile marker that my pace was slowing and John needed to increase to stay on target.  I bade him farewell, thanked him for his patience with me and I would see him at the finish line.  What I didn't expect was that once he had increased his pace, how lonely I would become.

Circling the town of Attard, I had lost my running group and when I turned round to check behind me there was no one there.  The Maltese heat around this little town had taken it's toll and the lack of water stations was dehydrating me quicker than I had expected.  This was not good so early on.  I then heard a shout from behind, "Great Arse!".  My energy levels seemed to return, my guardian angel was here, Emma had caught me up in a time of need and told me to stick with her.

Without Emma, I know my marathon experience would have been immensely more difficult.  Her infectious nature helped drive myself and countless others who joined our brigade throughout the next 18 miles.  I knew it would be a difficult journey, but it also seemed to have become a lot lighter.

Looping the streets of Attard, we noticed a familiar figure cheering us on at various points.  A young fellow in white, English, and full of smiles and genuine cheer.  On the third time, we stopped to thank this kind gentleman for his support, he told us that his wife was doing the Marathon as well and was only minutes behind us.  He was walking to the various checkpoints in the town to support her.  We claimed him as our own support as well.  On the 5th time, our newly acquired cheerleader was thanked again, but this time we got his name, James.

Joining the Half Marathon runners as we left Attard for the final time, the numbers grew.  It felt like we were in an event again instead of out for a hot run with new friends. My legs had found a new level of pain and I was grabbing multiple bottles of water from the supporting scouts now.  I had gone through numerous gels and protein bars, but I had to ration for the 13 miles that still lay ahead.  Emma tried distracting by playing music games, guess the artist, guess the film, but my mind was struggling with simple questions now.  I thought about all the support that I had been given from home and afar, all the people who had sponsored me and of course my two darlings at home.  I was running this race for them, I was running this race for Spud, I was running this race to prove to myself that anything is possible.

Entering Valetta, we knew it was the home straight.  I had been told that a marathon is a 10k run with a 20 mile warm up,  I was definitely warmed up now!  We had grown in our party of two, Emma and I had become support for a suffering gentleman called Paul and a German Fella who kept running ahead and then easing down.  Every single time we passed him we would shout, "C'mon, You can do this".  He would pass us 10 minutes later repeating the same line.  Which every time would make us smile, it was the little things.  Skirting round Valetta meant a couple of motorway flyovers, unnatrual hills that were not welcome at such a late stage of this mammoth run.  It was here we met Lynne. Lynne was happy to join our band of heroes as she had been struggling for the last couple of miles and needed an little giggle.   On her first marathon experience as well, Lynne told us that she had brought some support with her in the form of her husband who was out on course in random places offering a smile and countless words of encouragement.  Surely this could not be, I thought, surely her husband could not be our own support hero, James.  Out of the 500 runners doing the marathon, 1500 people running the Half and countless others out for a morning walk on the Walkathon, we had recruited James' wife into our party.

Entering Sliema was a sight for sore eyes, and legs.  The Marina was an awesome sight, and the finish line could be seen at every turn although it never seemed to get any closer.  Emma turned to me and said, "I have supported you for the last 15 miles, I need you now".  My goal of hitting under four hours had evapourated many hours ago, the thought of crossing around 4 hours 30 minutes was a pipe dream.  My only goal now was to finish, and help the selfless and unconditional hero, Emma, cross the line.

Our German friend past by, "You can do it".  The finish line in sight, cheering crowds started to appear.  "You can do it" we said as we passed him by moments later. We all smiled, painfully

We were there, it felt like the crowds were there purely to support us.  As if they had been with us on this arduous journey, knowing what we had endured.  I got a little emotional.  Our pace quickened a little (well, it definitely improved on the last few miles, but I can hardly call it quick).  We were heroes, we were champions, we were Marathon Runners.  As we crossed the finish line, I grabbed one of Emma's arms and held it aloft.  Without her support,I doubt I would have been here.  Waiting for us at the finish line was another champion, Lynne, with her husband James, the greatest cheerleader known to man.

Congratulations to all that ran the Malta Marathon 2016, you are all heroes!
My thoughts go out to the English runner who unfortunately did not make the distance and passed away metres from the finish line
Thank you to my Ma n Pa, Aunty and Uncle for coming out to Malta to support me
Thank you to all my great friends and family for your support on Just Giving
and thank you to Clare for letting me go on this adventure, whilst she was at home with a week old baby!

After consuming my body weight in Soreen and drinking the most deserved pint of Guinness in my life, it was time to enjoy the rest of my holiday in Malta...if my legs would let me.  I was missing my two princesses though, it was going to be hard without them