The Last Waltz

I ran my final marathon yesterday. I’m in a world of pain today.

The signs and portents weren’t good. For a start I’d thrown my race number away by accident which meant I had to pick a new number up on the day. I’d felt drained in the week, which is not unusual, but I also had some kind of gastric bug - I’ll spare you the details. I also hadn’t trained as hard as I had for London, and hadn’t been as strict with my drinking as I usually am, so I was a bit nervous as Sian dropped me off at Newport. It’s annoying that you still can’t get a train from Cardiff to Newport in time for the start time, however I got there with plenty of time to faff.

I was a little confused as I walked to my pen as the start line wasn’t where it had been previously. Cause I’d run it before I hadn’t bothered to check the route and it turned out to be very different. The first mile headed into Newport town, past the Market, the train station, Le Pub then back round and past the Uni building where it’s started previously. Still, it mixed it up a bit and after the second mile it seemed that I’d remembered to put my running legs on and I was doing a reasonable pace. I enjoyed doing a lap of the Athletic stadium, in my head I could hear a commentator saying “ - and Floyd is doing an amazing pace!”.

I began to get pain in my left hip and lower back at mile 10. It got so bad at one point that I did think that I might have to pull out, but I had some pain killers with me and after awhile the pain just ran alongside me like an unwelcome gremlin, and it was around this mark that I started to loose the pace a bit but I ran on. There was a fork in the route where you turned right for the half and left for the full. “I’m tempted to go that way.” I said aloud and pointed to the right.

Adding confusion to my race addled head was the mile markers, I passed the mile 11 mark, then shortly after passed the 18 mark mile mark. I reasoned that it must be a mistake but then I heard the dreaded word ‘loop’, my heart sank at the prospect at having to go around again, but at least it made sense why some of the elite runners were behind me and running past. There was also this weird point with a sign where if it was the first time you’d seen it you had to turn right and if it was the second time you’d seen it you had to turn left. At point a fellow runner asked me if we were going the right way, I said yes, cause we were coming up to the sign again and had to turn left for mile 22, all very confusing. My Garmin also suggested that I had two miles less to run than I actually did, but just to get me through I focused on that. I basically trick myself to keep running.

The last stretch past an industrial estate - you always run though or past an industrial estate on a marathon - was a bit grim, but at last there was a final gradient at mile 25, then a final push. Amazingly I did have something in the tank for a final sprint finish to the finish line, where I heard our mates Caroline and Buzz cheering me on, and it was all over. I got in at 3:47 which is quicker than last year’s London.

I don’t quite know what to think about it being my last marathon. At this moment I’m just glad that it’s over. On the day I tried to conjure up some emotions about my 20 years of marathons, but I was just too focused on getting this one done. I’m not going to stop running, just do the Super halves and interesting shorter runs.

After I’d crossed the line it was time for food and drink with Sian, Caroline and Buzz in the Market then the Le Pub. Glad I don’t have to run that distance again, phew!