Thanks for all your support.

It’s the Thursday night following the marathon on Sunday. For the first time today, I actually walked to work like an everyday commuter (without being asked by old ladies if I required assistance crossing the road). My legs are feeling much better and my feet have started to harden after a seriously disgusting session with some surgical scissors last night.

I’m very lucky that I started a new job last week. Being immersed in work has kept me busy and helped me through the post-marathon blues. That, and the support I received after my incredibly depressing post on Sunday night. I have to say a huge thank you to everyone who took the time to message me and pull me out of my slump.

Some of the words of wisdom I received were so good that they really deserve sharing, so here are a few quotes that might help those of you who didn’t quite have the experience you deserved on race day, feel just that little bit better…

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“Just remember its not about times, it’s just about the challenge. If it was easy it wouldn’t be worth it, today was an awesome result and your body is paying a bit, however you will come back stronger and you now know you are definitely getting there. So enjoy the pain as daft as it sounds, chill out and when you reflect on today, do it with pride.”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“Give yourself some time to get over today but don’t turn your back on running… you need a bad race just to really appreciate the good ones”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“…the pain when gone is replaced with wanting, a desire to improve. It might not feel like it now but you have just done something incredible…”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“You can’t go out trying to find the limits of your physical and mental ability and expect that the stars will perfectly align just at the moment you cross the finish line. Sometimes it goes wrong, inflicting mental and physical wounds that you have to deal with and get across the line. Sometimes things go very wrong and it takes a huge lump of everything you have to make the thing stick, if you can. However, just often enough things work out perfectly and those moments are ecstasy.”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“Give it a week. It was still an awesome effort, only disappointing when judged against your own standards.”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“The VLM narrative can be all sweetness and light which isn’t helpful. I nearly puked, I walked miles, I cried at the end…”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“When I run my maximum distance of 3 miles I go purple and cry. You’re fabs.”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“To go through the pain and finish in the time you did is truly amazing, so even if it is your last (doubtful) be proud of yourself.”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“Somehow marathons have become the be-all and end-all of running and that’s mad. They’re seriously hardcore.”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“The extra pressure that marathoners have is that there are known benchmark times that externalise the achievement. Remember, an ultra runner can hide behind the uniqueness of the challenge as nobody knows what a ‘good’ 50 miler across some remote trail might be. So I think marathoners have it harder in terms of keeping the test personal and that adds a lot of pressure.”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

“I ran it 3 years ago and had a similar experience. I vowed never again. I ran yesterday in 3:23, overjoyed. Hope you’ll be back too.”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Isn’t that amazing? Most of those people I’ve never even met, and yet this running malarkey unifies people in such a humbling way. I still feel crap today, and I’m still uncertain about whether or not I’ll run a marathon again. But I know that if I do decide to get back on that marathon horse I’ll have the support of total strangers, and not just the ones cheering from the sidelines.

And to those of you that are still convinced that I’m being a pussy, here’s a picture of my foot, a full 4 days after the race…

I'm so sorry... (this blister burst with 7 miles still to go)

A bitter-sweet race

I’ve just this second gotten home after completing the Virgin London Marathon 2012 and I’ve decided to write this post while it’s all still fresh in my mind. Actually, I’m writing this as a reminder to myself of what I’ve just been through, so that I’m not tempted to enter again…

First of all, I came in at 3:43:43. That’s not too shabby I think. It’s a PB by 38 minutes, it puts me in the sub-4 hour club and it was within target B from my weird 3-tier target-time system (more on this here). However, I’m in a bad place right now. Here’s why.

The race started badly. I’d managed to blag my way into pen 3 so that I could run with the 8-min/mile pacers (a 3:30:00 target time), but the course was so congested during the first mile that I immediately lost them. In fact, by the end of mile one I was 45 seconds off the pace (after sheer numbers forced the runners to a walking pace). The London Marathon is always busy, but I was so frustrated with people who were clearly running too slowly to be in these early pens. Yes, I had just sneaked my way into the wrong start group, but in my mind I was justified to be there, unlike some people who’d started in pen 2 and were walking by the second mile.

By mile four I’d managed to get back on track. But to accomplish this, I’d done some serious weaving and curb jumping. Rule no.1 broken already then. The next 10 miles were fairly uneventful. Cutty Sark was awesome. Massive well done to the builders who’d made the place presentable for race day (as I’d been there a couple of weeks ago on a training run and it was a building site). I kept pace well and managed to squeeze in my one toilet break at my usual spot (mile 9).

Then, after Tower Bridge, I started to feel tired. This was a real surprise as I’d smashed my long training runs and had felt pretty good at 20 miles! So to feel as bad as I did at mile 13 was really demoralising. I kept pace, carried on through Narrow street and Island Gardens and just tried to suck it up. But I was really struggling and my nutrition strategy wasn’t cutting it. I’d take down a gel, feel better for five minutes, and then feel like death shortly afterwards.

By mile 18, I was still on pace but I was hit by a double-whammy. Firstly, a massive blister by the ball of my foot burst. Gross, yes and bloody painful to boot. Then I got cramp in both calves. So not only was I nearly passing out, but I was in total agony. Obviously, I dropped pace and I started to take stock of my situation. Why was I doing this? What possible reason could I have for putting myself through this torture? It took every ounce of my dwindling will power not to stop, and I’m so proud of myself for carrying on.

Running a marathon is tough. It’s very easy to sit and watch Eddie Izzard run a marathon a day and think, that doesn’t look so bad. I almost resent ultra runners you know. Their feats make running a marathon look like a piece of cake in comparison. But until you try it, you just can’t understand what it takes to push through a mental barrier, to draw on reserves of will power that you didn’t know you had to finish a race that, quite frankly, makes no sense and will leave my body ruined for the following week.

The route...

I clawed my way to the finish, a full 7 miles of pure pain and torment behind me and promptly collapsed. It took me 45 minutes to get from the finish line to the exit, after nearly blacking out, fighting the urge to be sick and having spasms in my legs. It was truly awful. I’ve never felt so bad and the hard-earned new PB was fuck all of a help. It was the first time, since starting the London Marathon four years ago, that the relief and satisfaction of finishing didn’t outweigh the pain. And as I sat there, my back against a tree, my face as white as a sheet, willing myself not to puke I vowed that I wouldn’t put myself through it again.

I realise that this is an incredibly negative post, and not one that’s going to encourage people to take part in an event of this type. Which is a real shame. Everybody should do a marathon (at least once), as a test of their reserve. This is more of a reminder to me. I love running. It’s a hobby that rewards me every time I do it and I relish in being healthier because of it. And, knowing me, I’ll probably feel completely different tomorrow (and enter the ballot again). But for the first time since starting marathon running, today I just didn’t enjoy it.

Sad face. I’d really appreciate some encouragement if any of you have been through this, and come through the other side to run a marathon again. I really enjoy other distances, like half-marathons, where you get a sense of distance without having to completely wreck your body. But right now, I don’t see that I’ve got another marathon in me.

Click here for the full 2012 media pack.

I can’t believe that this’ll be the 4th year in a row that I’ve done this post, but the London marathon media pack is out and once again it’s rammed full of interesting stats about the race. To save you from sifting through 230 pages of information, I’ve highlighted a few tidbits below for you. Enjoy!

817,890 – total number of runners ever to have completed the London Marathon
34,705 – number of finishers in 2011
170,150 – number of applications this year

1,000,000 – estimated number of spectators
$55,000 – prize money for first place (same for men and women) with a bonus scheme involved

101 – the age of the oldest man running(!)
188 – number of runners whose birthday is on race day

600,000 – total number of goody bag items
1,250 – number or portable toilets
7,400 – total number of marshals (superb effort)
2,000 – plasters on hand from Ambulance volunteers
100 – lbs of vaseline
3,450 – number of rubbish bags filled after the race

7,200 – number of runners who write a blog (that’s 20% of all runners!)

18 – number of ‘Ever Presents’ left (someone who has run every single London Marathon – the youngest being Chris Finnill, in his fifties, who ran a 2:51:29 last year!)

Notable celebs running this year (and their predicted times):

James ‘Arg’ Argent – TOWIE (4:30:00)
Tony Audenshaw – Bob Hope from Emmerdale (3:10:00)
Linda Barker – TV presenter (4:30:00)
Calum Best – George Best’s son (5:30:00)
James Cracknell – Olympic gold medalist in rowing (2:50:00)
Jenni Falconer – TV presenter (3:45:00)
Craig Doyle – TV presenter (3:45:00)
Nell McAndrew – TV presenter/model (3:09:00)
Jonathon Pearce – Football commentator (5:30:00)
Gordon Ramsay – Celebrity chef (3:30:00)
Sophie Raworth – News presenter (4:15:00)
Susanna Reid – BBC Breakfast (5:00:00)
Michel Roux – Celebrity chef (3:35:00)
Iwan Thomas – 400m champion (4:00:00)
Chrissie Wellington – World Ironman champion (2:35:00)
Will Young – Singer (3:30:00)

AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!

P.S. Please sponsor me here if you can.

Page 11 of Newcastle United matchday programme

That’s it! Longest training run done. 21 miles in 2:48:31. London Marathon, I’m gonna eat you for breakfast.

— James Barnard (@sirjogalot) March 31, 2012

Ten minutes later, after nearly blacking out, I’d had to call my ex-girlfriend to bring me some chocolate and then give me a lift the half-mile home. This has happened to me before, two years ago during the exact same run (the final long run before the taper to the London Marathon) and you’d think I’d have learned a thing or two. Apparently not. What had actually happened was this.

Maxifuel's Viperboost gels

This last long run was a chance to test my nutrition strategy for the marathon. Apparently, the average number of gels consumed during a marathon is around 5. On the advice of a few colleagues (all marathon veterans) I’d taken one gel after an hour, and another gel every 30 minutes after that. On a target time of 3:30:00, this works out pretty well (the last gel at 3 hours seeing me through to the finish). But during today’s run, I’d only taken three gels with me (don’t ask me why). So having taken my last gel at the 2 hour mark, I was running a further 48 minutes to finish at mile 21. This, coupled with my quickened pace this year, meant that 10 minutes after I’d finished my glucose levels were dangerously depleted.

It was a bit of a downer to the day really. I felt like a total noob, sitting there with no cash on me to buy some sweets and gingerly dialing for help. Thankfully I was close to home and had my phone on me. I didn’t even have my travel card (follow your own advice Barnard, you idiot). And if you think that is bad enough – going on a 21-mile run without cash, an Oyster card or sufficient nutrition – wait until you hear this. I’m diabetic! Mam, if you’re reading this, put the car keys down.

Thankfully, I have figured out which gels I’ll be taking during London (having experimented with god-knows how many others, like Lucozade, Powerbar and Mule Bar). Maxifuel’s Viperboost gels are, for want of a better expression, the shizz. They’re the perfect consistency and go down almost like a sports drink, unlike Lucozade’s viscous Body Fuel gels that are given out during London (that you almost have to chew). And unlike a lot of other gels, I don’t want to gag when I take them. Plus I can actually feel a benefit from taking them. Before I finished today’s run I’d felt surprisingly spritely, and managed a very consistent 8-min/mile pace. If I can manage this on 22nd April, I’ll be a very happy man.

Three weeks and it’ll all be over again. :-(

Pacing the Hastings Half Marathon 2012

When I let people know I’m running a marathon, a lot of people ask where they can sponsor me. I guess it’s a reflex that the British public have now, having been exposed to fundraising monsters like the London Marathon and the Great North Run for so many years. You run a marathon, you want sponsorship. And convincing London Marathon entrants who have ballot places (who have their own places and aren’t forced to hit sponsorship targets) is big business for charities. Hence why the VLM news mag is 70% adverts for charities, begging ballot place runners for their sponsorship money.

That being said, some people genuinely feel the need to sponsor people who run the London Marathon. It’s a great way of showing support or rewarding someone for their hard work in training. And it is hard work. So this is the reason I’ve picked a charity to run for this year.

I’ve always been a Newcastle fan. My mam’s side of the family is geordie, through and through. In fact my uncle, Eddie Egdar, is a former Toon player. As is my cousin, David Edgar, who spent some of his transfer money wisely when he sponsored me £1000 two years ago. And when I approached the NUFC Foundation with an offer to show my support, they sent this sexy little number in the post.

Running the London Marathon for the NUFC Foundation

I’ll be the first person ever to run the London Marathon in aid of the Newcastle United Foundation, a charity dedicated to helping underprivileged kids and families in the north east. And I couldn’t be more proud. If you’d like to show your support (even if you’re not a Newcastle fan) you can find my sponsorship page here. Any donation will be gratefully received. You can even donate by text. Just text ‘SJAL99 £2‘ to 70070 to donate £2. If you want to donate more, just change the amount to £5, £10 or £20.

Four weeks left to go now, and I’ve got a 21-miler to do this weekend. It’s all getting very exciting again. My training is bang on track, and after another successful stint as a Runner’s World pacer at the Hasting Half Marathon last weekend, I’m very confident that I’m going to hit my 3:30:00 goal at London.

And if you’re the guys who live in the flat on the London Marathon course, at about mile 8, who hang an NUFC flag out of your window every year, I’m looking forward to seeing you again. Just make sure you reply to my ‘Toon toon!’ chant. That was really embarrassing last year…

Runners of the world, it’s time we got a little appreciation for our efforts, in the form of a seat on a train!

SJAL x

Stand up. Yes... I'm talking to you!

20.1 miles in 2:41:40

March is always a big month in training for the London Marathon. It’s the month that the majority of the longer training runs are completed and it’s usually at around this point that I’ll get a feel for how the training is progressing, and whether I’ll need to adjust my target or not.

When I first attempted the marathon in 2009, I was aiming for a sub-4 hour marathon. Ah, the blissful ignorance! Swanning from gym to gym, treadmill running through the colder months and doing absolutely no speed or interval training whatsoever. And when I ran a 19-miler on March 21st 2009 in 3:20:00 and realised that a 4-hour marathon wasn’t going to be achievable, I was bitterly disappointed. It was a tough truth to face, knowing that I hadn’t done enough and I remember feeling very naive. That year I completed London in 4:45:51.

In contrast, today I ran 20-miles in 2:41:40.

Over the last month I’ve put in some good mileage at pace. I’ve been running 5 and 7 mile loops around Hyde Park with a chap who’s running the MDS (sponsor him here) and I’ve kept up my twice weekly speed sessions. During these sessions, my short distance times have improved dramatically. In training, I’m running 7-miles at a 7:25-min/mile pace and managing to keep up with the editor of Runner’s World magazine during our not-quite-5K handicap race (a man who last year ran a 3:08 marathon in Boston). And after a 16-miler a few weeks ago produced a surprising result, I decided to adjust my marathon target-time again.

To help manage my expectations, so I’m not too disappointed should anything go wrong on race day, I’ve broken my target into three goals; a sort of ABC grading system.

C: I finally crack the 4-hour mark after 4 years of trying.
B: I break the 3:45:00 mark (which is 8:30-min/mile pace)

…or I shoot for the stars and try for A: Sub-3:30:00, which equates to an 8-min/mile pace.

To help get a feel for 8-min/miles and to force myself to run my longer runs at this pace, Runner’s World have kindly allowed me to be a pacer at two half-marathons (so far) at 8s (a 1:45:00 finish time). Silverstone was last weekend, and it was Blackpool a few weeks before. I’ve always enjoyed pacing races, and I’m very privileged to be part of this team. Both runs were successful and the pace felt very comfortable.

The only worry with this is that I’m missing out on some of the longer runs while I’m doing these events (there’s one more at Hastings next weekend). So I crammed in 20-miles this morning, and I’ll get a chance to do a 21-miler on 1st April. The next few weeks will give me the opportunity to tackle my nutrition and to build on a few base miles before the taper starts in April. But after today’s run, I’m feeling very confident indeed. I’m even considering marathon retirement in a blaze of glory. We’ll see…

Don't make eye-contact with the 8-min/mile pacer. I hear he's kind of a d*ck.

Me winning the A.R.S.E award for the handicap race in 2011 (Award for Runner's Season of Excellence)

If you follow me on twitter (and let’s face it, you should), you’ll probably have seen me pipe-up on Thursdays with something like,

“Another 11 secs off the (not quite) 5K PB today (paced round by the bull that is @RW_ed_Andy).”

…or…

“Paced to a 5K PB today by the determined Deputy Editor @runnersworlduk. Now down to 18:30 (18 seconds off last week). #shapeofmylife”

So what the hell am I talking about? Well, working for the UK’s #1 running title has its perks. Every Thursday, myself and a few colleagues do a little warm-up jog south of the river (London) to meet up with the team who organise the Virgin London Marathon. These guys, very kindly, run a 5K handicap race for us. Equipped with stopwatches and a spreadsheet, two guys will set 15+ runners off on a course around Central London.

The course, which actually works out at about 2.95 miles, crosses a fairly major road (twice) and is positively teaming with tourists. And the field is made up of all sorts of runners, with varying abilities (from just under half-an-hour to a chap who can do it in 14 minutes!). If you’re unfamiliar with the concept of a handicap race, because the abilities of the competitors varies so much, the start of the race is staggered so that people end up finishing at roughly the same time. While this makes the timekeeper’s job hard, it makes for very entertaining racing (with a lot of gut-busting sprint finishes involved).

The reason that I’m posting about the handicap is because of the benefits in running involved. Adding a little bit of competition and camaraderie to my training in the form of this ‘race’ has proved absolute wonders. It’s incredibly rewarding and it’s been a great way to measure my improvements. But without the element of competition there is no way that I’d have improved as much as I have. In fact, since starting this race just over a year ago, I’ve knocked my time down from 23:34 to 17:58 (set last week). That’s going from just under an 8-minute/mile pace to a little over 6-minute miles!

This measured gain has not only given me the confidence to run a quicker pace over longer distances, but it’s given me the actual ability to. Coupled with a speed training session on Tuesdays, my base level of fitness has improved tremendously over the year. And it’s because of sessions like this that I’ve set myself such an ambitious target for the London Marathon this year.

Give it a go yourself. Find five mates, take down their 5K PB times and race around your local park (staggering the start by the difference in PBs). You will not believe how much fun it is and I guarantee you that you’ll be doing it regularly. Just remember to take it in turns being timekeeper and email the results round in an excel sheet afterwards. The statistician in me loves trawling through these results. Here’s a little geeky graph of my handicap history:

Don't judge me...

Success in the ballot

After three failed attempts at gaining a London Marathon place through the over-subscribed ballot system, I finally managed to bag one. I’d have been running in 2013 either way as I’ve been able to creep into the 5-goes-and-you-get-a-guaranteed-place system before they phased it out. But in April 2012, I’ll be running the Virgin London Marathon without the pressure of raising money for a charity, or being followed as a pacer. This year it’s all about me!

Actually, it’s always been about me. I’m writing a blog documenting the highs and lows of my personal training, a subject that interests no-one but me. How narcissistic can you get? I mean, come on. “Oooh, boo hoo, I lost a toenail.” or “Look at me, here’s how many hits this blog has had.” [I actually did this.]

And to top it off, I’ve been writing posts describing, in detail, just how little training I’m actually doing, in the hope of running a sub 4-hour marathon on my first go? My naivety was actually pointed out to me quite recently by some forum members on Runner’s World while I was writing a piece on running a sub 20-minute 5K. And they were quite right to scrutinize. “Jogging occasionally” was pretty much what I was doing.

Don’t get me wrong, I was putting in the hours. But in the beginning there was no structure or, let’s face it, hard work in any of my training. And because of this, I have some fairly decent shorter distance PBs (41:45 10K, 1:41:41 half-marathon), but a marathon time that is completely unrepresentative of my current fitness level (4:21:21).

So here I am, three years after starting this blog. I’ve been working at Runner’s World magazine for nearly two years, competing in a weekly 5K handicap race with the people at the London Marathon, speed training every Tuesday lunch time and running alongside some pretty tremendous athletes. Not to mention, getting to run in almost any race I like. I’m in a very privileged position. I’ve got access to the right kit, supplements and advice, as well as having a superb bunch of colleagues to run with. As not to squander my position, I’ve set myself a much tougher goal this year. It’s sub-4 or die. Actually it’s sub-3 hours and 45 minutes or die. I’ve based this goal on some recent training times and as of right now (one month into training) I’m fairly certain that I could run a 1:40:00 half-marathon.

That’s it. It’s in the public domain. There’s no going back now. I only hope that I don’t forget to respect the marathon distance. I’ve done it before, but never at this pace (8:30 min/miles) and I’ve yet to run an evenly paced marathon (apart from in 2011 of course!). Those last 6 miles are a true test of will power.

Fingers and (blistered) toes crossed!