There’s so much I want to say about Perth Marathon but travel and jetlag have delayed my race report a tad. The short version is that the race went so much better than I had hoped and turned out to be more enjoyable than most of the twelve half marathons I’ve run since October 2012. Crossing the line in 3:55:07 rendered me a sobbing mess in the arms of my husband and daughters who had managed the logistics of cheering me on, at various stages along the course, around a soccer match.
I learned a lot from this marathon, the biggest lesson being about pacing. And determination. At a certain point, around 34km, determination overcame fatigue, a headwind, and a sore ITB. I will write more in detail at some point in the future. In the meantime, here are some photos🏃🏻🏅😀
Support!
Tears of joy, relief and disbelief.
The finish chute
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I’m pretty sure that I’ve told ever single person I’ve met in the past two months that I’m running a marathon in June. Yet, until today, I hadn’t technically started training for the event. (I won’t call it a race as my stomach churns at the mention of the word.) I’ve been plodding along doing my usual 45-50km per week – a tempoish (5km) parkrun, a slowish long run, various 8-12km runs in between, and the odd, very odd, interval session. And it’s been nice, not following a training plan.
But now, sixteen weeks to M-Day (June 12), and it’s time to dust off (or open the app) containing my chosen training plan and get down to serious business. I’ve opted for a Training Peaks plan with a goal time of 4 hours (more about that in future posts). I used similar plans for two half marathons last year and the combination of speed work and long runs worked well. And I took six minutes off my half marathon time.
My plan designates Mondays as rest days (assuming Sundays are long run days), so I’ve started my marathon training today by having a rest from running. After the WAMC Point Walter 16km Race yesterday – I’m ok with referring to events as races after the fact by the way – a rest day was in order. A walk on Swanbourne beach to stretch out my calves, hamstrings and hip flexors, pretending not to see the naked man letting it all hang out as he walked towards me, was as active as I got today. It was very windy but I guess nudists don’t feel the sea chill like the rest of us, though parts of their anatomy must. It could have been worse I guess. He could have been running. Come to think of it, the naked rambler is probably the only person in Western Australia whom I haven’t managed to tell in passing that I’ve registered for Perth marathon. These things happen when you don’t make eye contact.
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