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One Fine Day

Have you ever had a day when everything works out just as you'd hoped and planned? When everything has gone pretty much perfectly and it just makes you smile. That happened to me on Sunday 28th April, as I took the roads of Greater Manchester to take part in my first marathon, fundraising for Cancer Research in the process in memory of my Dad.

I made a plan and I stuck to it... it's not something I've ever done very well before in previous running challenges. At the Blackpool Half, I set off too fast and faded. At the Ashby 20, I found the final hill a real challenge and struggled to the finish over a muddy field. For my first marathon, I knew I had to keep my pace in check at the start so I could keep going to the finish. I didn't want to hit "the wall". Alongside that, the weather was on my side - cool temperatures and light winds, plus the rain stayed away until I'd finished. And the support... wow!

At the Cancer Research Tent
I'd been super-organised the night before - Mr T and I stayed in the budget Ibis in Salford Quays so I'd remembered to take our travel kettle, instant porridge pots, mugs and coffee sachets... although I did forget spoons. But we improvised. I'd got all my kit sorted out and hadn't forgotten anything. We'd taken a walk around to the start area at Old Trafford, just so we could check timings and work out the best way to get to the start.

So at just before 8am, we arrived at the Race Village and made our way to the Cancer Research tent. They supplied me with a lovely cup of tea and some reassuring words. We had a chat with some of the other Cancer Research runners too - all in varying degrees of nervousness but motivated by the cause they were supporting. As we looked across the race village, Mr T spotted that the electronic "D" on the side of Old Trafford wasn't lit up so the sign said "Manchester Unite" - we'd like to think it was by design.

After that, it was time to drop off my bag then join the queues for the loos - like almost all the other thousands of runners. After spending slightly longer in the queue than hoped, it was time to go straight to the start. I located Area D and the 4.15 pacer, just as the runners were called to order for a respectful silence followed by encouraging applause to remember the events at the Boston Marathon just two weeks previously. After that, I said goodbye to Mr T and the start just moments away.

The race was started by Ron Hill... who Mr T met by the start area just before  ("Are you Ron Hill?", "Yes", "You're a legend!" followed by a brief handshake is his description of the encounter). I never spotted him but I did hear his brief speech. The klaxon sounded and we were underway - 26.2 miles to be completed on a course taking in Salford Quays, Stretford, Sale, Altrincham, Carrington, Urmstom then back to Salford to finish on Sir Matt Busby Way.

Gloves On!
The first half of the race was all about sticking to the 4.15 pacer - a lovely man from Southern Ireland who was part of the Brooks pacing team. His group of 4.15ers seemed to consist almost entirely of women and we joked that it was a bit like a hen party as we set off. Miles 1 to 4 were in in little loops around the start area and Salford Quays. It was quite congested so not easy to go too fast anyway. But I kept to my plan - 6mins per km and no faster. In that first part of the run, I caught sight of my training partners Liz and Bobbie, as well as Jo, Meg and Lewis for the first time. They gave me such a loud cheer as I went past them just before the second mile marker - something that would be repeated every time they saw me. I saw Mr T a couple of times in this section too - I think he covered almost as many miles as me during the morning.

By mile 5, my watch still showed an average speed of 6mins per km and I felt comfortable. I managed little chats with lots of other runners in the group - we developed a really good camaraderie as we tried to stick close to the pacer. Along the route to Sale, there were little pockets of supporters cheering us on. Every community seemed to have come out in force, with bands playing and lots of vocal support. I was really pleased I'd had my name printed on my vest - every time someone shouted out "Lizzie" it gave me a lift.
Gloves Off!

In Sale, I spotted friends from Hanley parkrun, the Holmes family and Tommy Hill, and their cheers gave me another boost. Mr T popped up again in Sale and I exchanged my gloves for an energy gel. Then it was round to Brooklands and we'd already completed 9 miles, still sticking to 6mins per km and in sight of the 4.15 pacer. The next seven miles would be an out and back section through Timperley and down to Altrincham. As our group began this loop, the leading runners were coming back up the other way, flying by on the other side of the road. I spotted a couple of familiar faces from Hanley parkrun and cheered them on when I could.

As we headed down the A34 to Altrincham, we passed a care home with four ladies sitting on comfy chairs by the gate. They cheered us on with loads of enthusiasm and we waved back and said thank you in return. At that time, I was running in a group with three other women and I think we all had the same thought - we'll be them in a few years time! We joked about cheering on the marathon runners, remembering when we'd been mad enough to take on the challenge. The four of us stuck together for the next four miles as we completed the loop through Altrincham and reached half way.

Liz and Bobbie, Jo, Meg and Lewis were there in Altrincham to cheer me on, as well as Mr T (like I said, he covered a lot of ground). As we were leaving Altrincham, I started to pull away from the 4.15 pacer, pushing on up a slight incline and leaving the group behind. This was the plan. I hit half way in just over 2hours and 6minutes - content that I was sticking to my plan. Another runner, Lisa, stayed with me and we ran together for the next 6 miles or so.

So the first half was done - all about being in control. The second half was about pushing on and then trying to pick up the pace at 20 miles (if I could) - 20 miles was the longest I'd ever run previously so it would be unchartered territory after that. It was 3 miles from Altrincham back up to Brooklands and the crowds were still cheering us on... I tried to acknowledge people with a smile, a wave or a thumbs up if they called out my name. We high-fived small children and gratefully accepted jelly babies whenever they were offered. Every now and then one spectator would stand out from the rest - a young lad called out "well done Lizzie, great cause you're supporting" when he saw my Cancer Research vest and that spurred me on again.

Just after 16 miles, we were back in Brooklands and the route turned quite sharply to the left as we reached the top of another small bank - there were no real hills (not in comparison to Anchor Road or Milton Road anyway). This was possibly my favourite section of the course for spectator support - the crowds lined the roadside and were so close as we ran through. The noise was incredible - it reminded me of the Tour de France where the spectators get so close to the riders at the top of the climbs. More encouragement at mile 16 too with a Mr Benn moment - "as if my magic, Mr Tideswell appeared".
Crowds at Brooklands
As we turned here though, the wind seemed to pick up and was in our faces for the next mile or so. As we passed one particularly vocal marshal, he encouraged us by telling us that the wind be behind us in just a couple of hundred metres. And he was right! All round the course, the marshals and volunteers were amazing, encouraging all the runners at every drinks station as they really efficiently distributed drinks and energy gels.

Miles 16 to 22 were probably the quietest on the route in terms of spectators. But every time I felt myself tiring, we would pass through a village or community and the crowds would be there again to cheer us on. I was still running with Lisa at this point and we both really appreciated the encouragement. I knew I was making progress - we were overtaking quite a few runners in this section and no one really came past us. That gave me a real boost and lots of confidence for the last few miles.

At mile 18, the only real blip on the day occurred when my watch stopped working properly. For the last 8 miles, I could just about work out how much time had elapsed but I couldn't see pace or distance information. I was running 'naked' and letting how I was feeling dictate how I ran - it seemed to work. Perhaps it was the constant beep of my watch, which I just couldn't stop, that created a good running rhythm for those last few miles.

So to the last 6 miles, just 10km or two parkruns. Between miles 20 and 22 I pushed on but was starting to hurt. I took the last of my gels and felt some relief. Just after mile 23, I told myself it was just a parkrun now. I visualised myself at Hanley parkrun, trying to make my legs think I was on the lovely downhill sections. It worked for a while and I pushed on.

Just after the mile 24 marker, I heard a strange noise from my right foot - an audible pop. This was followed by a sharp pain on my middle toe. I thought it was my toenail coming off. (It was only when I took my shoes off later than I discoverd it was actually just a blister bursting - a big blister, but just a blister. Fortunately all 10 toenails are in place.)  The pain subsided - or I told myself it didn't hurt - and I ran on. The crowds were still out in force and every cheer of "C'mon Lizzie" kept me putting one foot in front of the other.
Final Turn

Jon was waiting for me at 24.5miles with more words of encouragement ("only half a parkrun from here"). Then it was Tommy Hill, and Julie, Bryn and Millie Holmes soon after - "less than a parkrun now". I was so focused on running, I was looking down and not out in front of me. A spectator encouraged me to "Look up Lizzie" and get my eyes on the finish line. It was great advice - looking up, I could see the tops of the stands at Old Trafford. The end really was in sight now.

The crowds were getting louder and more concentrated the closer I got to the finish. I could hear my name being shouted out from all directions - "Dig in, Lizzie", "last 200 metres, Lizzie"; "looking strong, Lizzie"; "almost there now, Lizzie". The sound was deafening but incredibly emotional too - I could feel tears in my eyes as I turned into Sir Matt Busby Way.

Looking straight down to the finish, I ran to the line with all the energy I had left. I could see and hear Liz, Bobbie, Jo, Meg and Lewis shouting final words of support and encouragement - willing me to the line with tears of emotion all round (as I learnt from Bobbie later). I must have been slightly more aware than I remember as I did manage a slight smile and a thumbs up for them... captured by the official photographer.

I had imagined lifting my arms aloft to celebrate crossing the line but I just didn't have the energy. I came to a halt and felt very unsteady on my feet. But I done it! I'd run a marathon, almost exactly the race I'd planned. I found myself being congratulated on my achievements and then asked questions by a man with a microphone - I think I thanked the crowds for their "awesome" support but post-run interviews weren't included in my marathon training so I wasn't really sure what else to say.

Look Up, Lizzie
I staggered through the finish area, was wrapped up in a shiny silver blanket, also collecting my medal, race shirt and some refreshments. I waited around for a while to see if I could catch sight of any of the people I'd run with earlier, spotting some but not others.

At this point, everything seemed a little strange. I picked up my bag, although struggled to coordinate myself to unwrap the space blanket so the helpers could see my running number and find the bag corresponding to it. Putting on extra layers was almost an impossible task as my energy levels crashed. I made my way to the Cancer Research tent for a reviving cup of tea and a quick chat with some of the other runners.

Toffee muffin + Chocolate Milkshake
Then I returned to the meeting area to find Mr T and also Sandra and my god-daughter Hannah. They'd been cheering me down to the finish line too but I'd missed them in the crowds. We headed over to Salford Quays for a race review, catch-up and a reviving cake. My phone was a flurry of activity as friends and family caught up with my achievements via Twitter and Facebook. I received an unbelievable number of messages - a huge thank you to everyone for your
support.

Given the problems with my watch, I wasn't exactly sure of my time. I knew the clock was showing 4.10 something as I entered Sir Matt Busby Way but I'd no recollection of the time as I crossed the line. It seems like I wasn't the only one with technical problems - the only blip on a really well organised event appears to be the timing. I've already had three different times reported for my finish time, including one at under 4 hours. As I started writing this blog, my gun time was 4.11.26, giving a very pleasing chip time of 4.08.04. This included the last 10km in 55mins, the second half of the race 6mins faster than the first (15 seconds per km) - a negative split, the holy grail of marathon running! I've included the screenshot of the details. However, by the time I'd finished my blog, the times had changed again to something which is completely incorrect. Based on experiences of other runners, it seems I'm not the only one with problems with my time. I'm sticking with the original set of times - these are ones on my photos from the official photographers anyway.

And so what now? I've spent today moving around very gingerly but I'm pleased to report that I can walk and actually feel much better than expected. Stairs are a problem, but I'm sure that will pass. My feet might need a few more days to recover too.

But will I do another marathon? Watch this space. In the meantime, I've got the Clayton 10k in two weeks and that's another Group W challenge in the NSRRA.

Happy Running

LizT

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