The Dublin Marathon 2008: Miles 19-26.2
As I gradually slowed down, the mile markers came slower and slower. I was still confident I could make my target time, though I realised that it would be close. Any thoughts of a faster time than that evaporated.
Running on what dwindling dregs of energy I had remaining, I made it to the next water and energy station between miles twenty and twenty-one. By now I was close to hitting the wall. I took on two bottles of water at this station, because I felt like I desperately needed it. This station was also giving out small packs of gummy sweets, so I took a pack for energy and as a distraction. I also took two bottles of water; I drank one straight away and held onto the other one to drink between now and the next water station. The fact I felt I needed to take on extra water in between stations was an indication of my condition at this point.
From that water station on Fosters Avenue, it was a short distance to the next turn left onto Stillorgan Road. Stillorgan Road is a major artery into the city, with two lanes in either direction, so once again I was unnerved by the roar of passing traffic. The marathon only followed that for a short while before it followed the slip road onto a flyover. I ate some of my gummy sweets at this point to try and distract me again, but it wasn’t really working. I did feel strange again running up a road where usually I’d be run over in a second.
On the bridge crossing over Stillorgan Road, there was a St John Ambulance station offering Vaseline, but I was already greased up enough. The marathon followed the slip road back down onto Stillorgan Road but I didn’t feel quite as disconcerted running on a main road this time, possibly because I was so tired and possibly because the traffic was coming towards me, rather than from behind me.
The next milestone was a water station on Nutley Road. I needed water and a toilet break, but I really didn’t want to stop, because I knew it would be extremely difficult to get started again. At this point I noticed the first rumblings in my stomach and bowels. All was not well down there, but I wouldn’t really find out about that until after the race.
Like I thought, I was in such pain, that I didn’t start running again immediately after leaving the toilet. I took a short walking start, turning the corner onto Merrion Road, then, to the shouts of encouragement from bystanders, I pushed myself into starting running again. I wasn’t tempted to take a longer walking break because I knew if I did, it would slow me down overall so much I would probably not be able to make my target time.
Whilst I was running the marathon, I didn’t take much notice of what road I was on, I just followed the markers which indicated the direction of the route. I believed that concentrating on running the marathon and monitoring my own condition was more important than precisely knowing the route. However, the disadvantage of this approach was that I was unaware of just how close I was to the city centre and thus the finish line. Had I known that, It would have been a fantastic boost. What it did mean however was that the marathon was working it’s way back north towards the city centre and the finish.
Merrion Road seemed unending. It was partly due to the fact I was so tired and in so much pain and also, like Crumlin Road earlier on, it was just a long, boring stretch of road to run along. I continually asked myself, “We must be getting close to the city centre by now”, but still the surroundings told me we were still in the suburbs and (I presumed) nowhere near the centre. I didn’t really realise that the marathon was closer to the centre than I thought until it turned onto Shelbourne Road. The road was lined with fewer trees, there were more shops on each side of the road and it was clear we were leaving the leafy suburbs behind.
Running along Shelbourne Road, I felt a small boost from knowing that we were definitely getting closer to the city centre. The closer the marathon came to the centre, the busier the streets became and the more the atmosphere changed to that of a bustling city centre.At about mile twenty-four, Shelbourne Road led onto Grand Canal Street, which led the marathon into the city centre, at last.
At the last water station, I grabbed a last bottle of water, but I think my body had had just about enough water as it could take, so I kept the bottle to sip along the last mile. A mile later, at the twenty-five mile marker, I passed Hollies Street, which I had run down some five hours earlier. I was so lost in concentration that I didn’t even notice that I was retracing steps from that morning.
I did have enough presence of mind, however, to look out for my support team. We had arranged to rendez-vous around the twenty-five mile marker on Fenian Street, so I was trying to keep a look out whilst not looking too far ahead. In the latter stages of the marathon when it was painful, I ran looking straight down at the road, because looking ahead I would feel overwhelmed by the remaining distance and get an unbearable urge to stop and start walking.
Running up Fenian Place, I caught sight of them lined up across the wide road. They all fiddled with their cameras and cheered me on. This was a massive boost as I was really feeling a bit low at this point. Catching up with them also meant that I was tangibly close to the finish line. Whilst they had a five-minute walk down Merrion Street to the finish, I still had a gruelling mile and 385 yards to run before I would allow myself to stop.
The marathon turned right onto Westland Street then left onto Pearse Street, which now seemed vaguely familiar from this morning. When the route curved around the grounds of Trinity College, I began to feel the worst effects of my last-mile push. I developed a throbbing headache which made my temples pound. I really just wanted to stop and collapse, just to give my feet and muscles a break from the constant pain.
There was a slight gradient on Grafton Street, but I was so tired and in so much pain it took a disproportionate amount of effort to get to the top and turn left onto Nassau Street. I knew I was so close to the finish now, but this street was deceptively long. Not just that, but my stomach trouble from earlier returned with that headache. I felt like the water was drinking may have been adding to the problem, so I threw away the half-full bottle and just kept running. Just before the final turn onto Merrion Square West, I had some stomach cramps, which would usually have stopped me from running, but I decided that being so close to the finish, I would just try and ignore them and deal with them after the finish.
I turned the corner and headed for the finish. Right up until a few metres from the finish line, I was scanning the crowds for my support crew and trying to get myself in a good position for the finish-line photographs they would be taking.
A few metres from the finish line, I looked at the clock on the timing gantry and it was ticking close to my target, so I mustered an absolute, desperate, last-minute dash across the line. I would have been gutted to find out, after all that effort, that I missed my target by such a close margin, but I needn’t have worried. I crossed the line as the clock struck exactly 5h30m00s.
As soon as I crossed the line I stopped running and started walking. I noticed immediately how soon I cooled down and I noticed again how cold it was. The worst thing I could have done at this point would have been to stop or collapse from exhaustion, not least because it would have been an obstruction but mainly because my muscles would have locked up and I probably wouldn’t be able to move at all.
I moved through the finisher processing on Merrion Square South, posing for my finisher photograph and then picked up my finisher’s goodie bag. Then it was time to attend to my stomach trouble. I think I may have drunk too much water during the marathon, which is what I suspect gave me the headache and stomach cramps, unlike Edinburgh where I felt I drank too little.
A good fifteen minutes later I left the finisher’s processing area and rejoined my support crew. They took some more photographs, then we decided to walk back to the hotel. Walking back along Clare Street, watching the rest of the runners finish, we saw the pint of Guinness pass us by. As for the Toucan, he and the pint became separated and the Toucan finished in a respectable sub-four hour time. Later I read that the man in the Toucan outfit was none other than the heir to the Guinness brewery fortune and the pint was his friend. Which is nice.
A few days later the official chip times were released which stated that I had met my target by completing the marathon in a time of 5h27m47s. I’m very pleased with that. It is also exactly one hour and one second faster than my previous personal best, set in Edinburgh.
Without doubt, the Dublin Marathon was one of the best, most enjoyable things I’ve ever done. It is the best marathon I’ve ever run, in terms of time and strategy. More than that, however, was the atmosphere. Dublin is called the “Friendly marathon” and after running it, I can definitely see why. At every stage of the race, there was always someone prepared to shout some words of encouragement, even if it was just someone who was passing by.
I was so impressed by the marathon and I enjoyed it so much that I think I may do it again next year. Perhaps I might even try to break my PB again.
If you’re wondering about doing a marathon, just get out there and start training. The high for me didn’t come until a day or two afterwards, after my achievement sank in, but when it does, it’s an incredible feeling.