I AM A CONNEMARA MARATHONER

The deed is done. I've achieved what seemed the impossible for me. I am now an official marathoner with one full marathon under my belt - the Connemara 2008 - from two days ago, Sunday Apriil 6.
Yes, it was a private hell getting through it on one level - but surprisingly, this was the psychological side only. Physically - I was so up for the task, it shocked me. This training lark really works! That's all I was thinking as I comfortably made my way around the course, heading for the 20 mile mark and still not hitting the dreaded wall. Mile 21, 22, there I was, still ploughing. I had psyched myself up so much to expect failure from mile 22-24 at least - that ever-upward Hell of the West stretch. My plan was to keep going up to mile 20 and to allow myself whatever concessions necessary just to finish the course after that. Because that mountain climb during my half-marathon effort last year had beaten me - I just expected it to do the same again. I had walked up most of it in 2007 and was preparing to walk it again.
As it happened, I didn't absolutely have to stop running this time around. I only decided to stop because I hadn't figured on being able to keep going. I think the reality is I just hadn't expected to be able to do a marathon - even given the requisite training I had been doing. But then, there I was, feeling bad but not dire at mile 22, getting this message from inside me telling me I should walk; this was the point I was supposed to be walking at; I had made allowances for this to happen; stop running now!
And so I stopped running, momentarily, and discovered that no, I couldn't walk. I could run still but I couldn't walk. The choice was either to keep running or bow out of the race at that stage. That had never been the plan. Everything was going haywire!
So the only obvious option was to keep running and tackle the incline that had seemed so drawn out and steep the previous year. But this time around it was fine. Really fine. It wasn't that steep after all. There were certain lengths where you had to push hard to make the climb, but after each climb there came a strait of sorts. It was grand to just push and recover, push and recover. It didn't take too much out of me. It wasn't half as hard as before. Next thing, I was over the lip, staring in to the mile 24 marker, heading for home. What a feeling!
I remember at the start of the race setting off thinking I'll just clock up the miles as I cover them and not think anything else beyond that. The gun sounded and I took my time mixing in with all the other runners and then just started, nice and handy. The first mile was covered in 9 minutes, the second in about 8.5 and after that it evened out at about 9 minute miles. That was a fast pace for me, over a long distance at least, but yet, I knew I wasn't pushing myself too hard. It was coming easy enough. I was a bit worried it might sap my energies for the latter part of the race but at the same time I thought, I just have to get around the 26.2 miles and the quicker I can do it the better. So even though it was fast, it wasn't too fast for me and suited me on the day.
There wasn't too much movement within the pack of runners at that stage either. Everyone was taking it nice and steady and there was little sprinting or overtaking as runners paced themselves for the duration. It was freezing cold but dry when we started and beautiful around scenic Lough Inagh. There weren't many cars on the road and it was pretty gorgeous just to be able to watch runners running against a background of russet boglands and purple-dark mountains. Glorious.
Then at mile 4, the predicted winter weather arrived and these amazing hailstones rained down on us - some of them pretty big. I remember thinking I was glad I had my sun hat on, 'cos they hurt! I was wearing only a t-shirt and three-quarter length tights, while everyone else seemed to have heeded the advice to cover themselves head to toe. I hate getting too hot running though so that was my reasoning - and I never regretted not wearing more at any point - except maybe at the finish when I felt really cold in the long queue after for medals and t-shirts.
The clothes people wore on the day really fascinated me. I couldn't understand the many runners who wore big flappy jackets that dragged the air and must have forced them to double their efforts. And then all the wooly hats! I know they're good at keeping the heat in but after a while of running, no matter what the temperatures outside - you're gonna heat up, and then what you need is something that will dissipate the heat. When the sun broke through then from about mile six on - I just don't know how people managed without a sun-hat. I never do any distance runs without a visor of some sort. Having the sun in your eyes is bad enough when you're static - but when you're running, it's chronic. How come so many runners put up with it?
Anyway, it was great fun crunching through the hailstones as they temporarily covered the ground before disappearing altogether. By mile six, we were in clover weatherwise and then at mile seven, after we turned right on to the Clifden-Leenane N59 road, it was just so great to finally feel you were heading in the right direction to get to the finish line. One very tall, lanky Germany I spoke to along the way said at that point we were all taking it pretty handy and maybe the pace should slow a bit. But the opposite happened really. Even though the wind hit us in the face from mile 8 onwards and the icy blasts from the snowy mountains and freezing seas made it seem so very cold, everyone kept the pace up and it felt like - we all just wanted to get the damn thing over with! At the same time it was just so incredibly beautiful everywhere you looked. The scenery really is jaw-droppingly gorgeous every which way. Being out in the middle of it all doing such a beautiful thing as running in a pack - it's just magical. So running a marathon - and in my case a first marathon - in such circumstances, was kind of an out of this world experience. I utterly loved it and dredaded it at the same time. I was stirred up with excitement and fear. Playing on my mind all the time was the distance and doubts whether I could complete it.
Then at mile 10 some really nice guys hooked up with me and we ran alongside right up to the half-marathon point, in Leenane. The Galway guy - Donie I think was his name - was totally positive and laid back about it all. Just enjoy it and keep going as we were, he said, and we'd get there in four hours. Four hours! That had never been in my plan. I hadn't ever even considered doing it in that time and my best hopes were to finish in 4.30. But I just kept running with him and another Cork man and really, I was feeling so good I wanted to sprint. I didn't but I did push myself a bit because I just wanted to and felt I was up to it and didn't anticipate it would come against me later. I also was on target for my first ever half-marathon under two hours and that suddenly became a major goal. Mr Cork man told me not to speed up no matter what as it would drain me over the second half, but I did push a little until I clocked 13 miles at 1 hour 58. Yeah! I could take it easy for the rest of the marathon then if I liked!
The guys wished me luck then and passed on as I got back in to my own happy pace and started ticking off the miles again. I was doing about 9.5 minute miles at this point but to be honest, I stopped clock-watching from about mile 16 as I became more and more aware of my body and the toll the distance was taking. I was heading for 19 miles then - my longest run to date - and did a body check on how everything was feeling. All the time I kept drinking water and running, making the bottles from every three mile water station last for at least another mile between sips. I was also carrying three gels and took the first one after hour one, the second after hour two and as I hit 19 miles at hour three, took gel number three. How was I feeling?
Well, nausea came out of nowhere around then. I took a quarter Mars bar offered to me over the bridge at Keanes when I knew I was facing in to my dreaded mountain climb. The previous year I had stopped to munch the chocolate but this year I bit off little bits at a time, washing it down with water as I ran. I was glad to have it. I felt I needed something extra on top of the gels.
So there I was, as reported earlier, hitting mile 20, 21 and actually feeling fine. Was I feeling good? Well, in a sense I suppose I was; as good as you could feel after putting 20 miles plus in. My legs were feeling some pain but there were no problematic twinges. Nothing was breaking down on me. I had emptied out and knew real food would be good, but it wasn't happening just then!
My mindset was pretty positive given how good everything was going for me. It was changing from wondering whether I would do it to how I would do it. On reaching the 24 mile mark my only thoughts were on the few miles I had left. I just wanted to focus on covering them one at a time and getting it all over with. In 2007 I had been able to sprint mile 24-26. I guess I'd felt so good after walking up the hill! This time, I wanted to sprint again and go for a really best time but discovered, no, I couldn't sprint. There were real pains now in my legs. In my bones it seemed. A dull aching sensation was settling in with every step. I couldn't physically push my legs faster because it really hurt to do so. I was doing good just to be able to keep going as I was and funny enough, by mile 25, I was really struggling. That last mile seemed to never come to an end. There were so few well-wishers on the side of the road throughout the whole length of the course. It was such a lonely experience in retrospect - no matter how beautuiful the scenery. Approaching mile 26 I really had had enough. I wanted to stop and finish. At least there were some people there - about fifty or so on the approach to the clock. A group of girls clapped and cheered and egged me on. It was the first real encouragement I felt and being so near the end, in every sense, it got to me. The emotions started to break through. I was tired, drained and the huge effort of all the training and the long day itself with the wierd weather and so much so new and so hard, hit me full on. It was the longest stretch ever getting from the 26 mile mark to the end mark at 26.2. I cried with relief and suffering. My name was called out as my chip registered and that gave me a boost. I fell in line to queue for my medal and t-shirt. The stewards were offering loads of water still and it was great to stop and quench my thirst properly. I was dizzy, wanting to collapse but it was good that I had to stay standing and work my way in to the marquee tent. If I had sat down I probably wouldn't have got up again for a while. Even though I was cold by the time I came out the other end, I was happy. Really, really happy.
Out on the road, I found Padraig walking towards me. He had missed me coming in because I got back much faster than expected! We had agreed it would take me at least five hours but there I was, home, in 4 hours 14. A personal triumph.
Two days later as I write this, I'm recovering so well. I have some stiffness in my left knee, a part of me that has never been sore before, but I think it will pass and no lasting damage has been done. Every new day the high gets better. I love being a marathoner and a marathoner who is happy with how she performed on the day. It's such a terrific feeling to have achieved a personal goal with an even better outcome than anticipated.
Right now I don't want to think beyond the completion of this, my first marathon. I'm taking this week off entirely and after that will break gently back in to exercise again. I love it all; love what I've just done and love being able to do it. I don't want to think about new goal setting just yet even though in the back of my mind I know there are a few. What I really want more than anything though is to retain my love for running because it is just so damn good for me. I want to return to regular 3-5 mile runs when I'm ready and enjoy the approaching Summer that way. I'll see how it goes after that.