There may well have been a look of despair on my face as
I checked my GPS watch. The seconds
continued to flicker by… 3 hours 19 minutes and counting… but the distance
count had come to a halt at 22.73 miles.
Without doubt I had reached the defining point in my quest to complete a
marathon in under four hours!
Up to this point I could have no serious complaints about
how things had gone. Yes, the day had
started earlier than was ideal with a 5.30am alarm to make sure I had good time to go through my
normal stretch and roller routine, eat my usual pre-race breakfast of porridge
and banana and sink about two pints of water.
However, considering the time in the morning, I felt remarkably alert, certainly
much more so than I recall being a year earlier at the London Marathon. There I had arrived at the start zone in
Greenwich Park with the feeling about me that might have been more appropriate
if I was attending as an extra at the shooting of a zombie movie!
My brother David, with whom Lesley and I were staying at
his apartment in Viroflay (near Versailles), had the travel plan sorted. Lesley and I were happy to have him guide us
through an easy train journey that had us arriving just a short walk from the marathon
baggage area at 7.40am. This gave me a
clear hour before I was due to enter my start pen. Now is not the time to go into the gory
details of the next hour (I’m not doing a review of the toilet
facilities!). Sufficient to say that by
8.40am I was as best prepared as I think I could possibly have been as I stood
at the threshold of the start pen of those whose race time was expected to be
in the range of 3h45m to 3h59m.
At this point I left Lesley and David who had now joined
up with Natalie from the Bearcat Running Club.
Natalie was there to cheer on her partner Lee who was already deep amidst
the mass of people congregating in the pen.
I hoped to be seeing the “support team” at specific points we had
identified on the course at approximately the 5.5 mile, 12.5 mile and 18.5 mile
points.
As had been forecast, the sky gave no suggestion of rain
and it was reasonably cool, though, at about 8˚C, nowhere near as cold as the
conditions in which I had completed much of my training. The temperature was expected to rise to
about 11˚C by about 11am with an eventual maximum for the day predicted to be
17˚C (worryingly warm!). Regardless of
the air temperature, the sun was expected to shine brightly and I knew this was
going to make it feel even warmer. Water
stations were placed at 5KM intervals and I intended to make good use of each
of them.
Having entered the pen, I made my way as far forward as I
could squeeze myself without causing offence.
This was on the basis that, while I did not expect to finish in a time
of 3h45m, it was my intention to go out for at least the first couple of miles
at the pace commensurate with such a time (about 8m30s per mile). I had this in mind as I wanted to avoid the
congestion there can be at the beginning of such a huge event if you find
yourself behind a significant number running slower than your intended pace. I had my Brighton experience from two years
previously as a point of reference (and quite a few half marathons since then)
when I had been faced with either having to do a lot of weaving between and
around other runners or accept running for a significant time at a slower pace
than I had planned for.
At 8.45am the announcement was made to a great cheer that
the marathon was officially starting – just 30 minutes more and my starting pen
would be released! There was no doubt that I felt part of something immense and
the panoramic photos clearly emphasise this!
For the umpteenth time I reflected on my relatively
simple plan which was to take the run in three distinct stages. Part one would be to the half way point; part
two would be between half way and mile 20; part three would be the final 6.2
miles. For part one I had in mind a pace
that would see me complete 13.1 miles approximately five minutes slower than
the two half marathons I had completed in March. For part two I aimed to reach mile 20 at
about the time I had achieved in my two recent 20 mile runs (in the region of
2h52m to 2h55m); for part three I resolved to take each mile as it came and
hope to hang in on an average pace for this stage of about 9m30s per mile. Allowing for the fact that I anticipated that,
by my GPS watch, I would run more like 26.5 miles than the official 26.2 miles,
I felt that by sticking to this plan I would finish in a time of 3h55m.
Everything was in place and at 9.15am the group of which I
was part started moving forward. Within
a minute I felt myself released as I hit the start line, making sure I checked
my watch, which with some relief I saw was functioning correctly.
Immediately I could sense that the first element of my
plan was working effectively as the runners fanned out across the width of the
Champs Elysees and there seemed quite reasonable room in which to
manoeuvre. In any case there seemed to
be very little difference between the pace of the vast majority of runners so
there were no frustrating hold ups.
The one thing that I soon knew was not quite right was
that my pace was a touch quicker than I felt was entirely sensible. However, at 8m25s per mile I did not feel
this was a ridiculous pace and I could not raise sufficient self-discipline to rein
myself back even as I went by Place De La Concorde at mile 1 and Place De La
Bastille at mile 3. My left calf, that had been something of a bother for at least a couple of months, was giving
only the faintest of suggestions that it might cause trouble.
With all going well, I carefully scanned the watching
crowds from mile 5 and before long I took strength from seeing Lesley, David
and Natalie and blowing them a kiss as I went by! Not long after this I cursed myself that in
my enthusiasm to look out for the support team I had let my mind waver from my
gel strategy – I had meant to take the first at mile 4 and thereafter at four
mile intervals. I wasted no further time
and had consumed the first before reaching the water station at the 10KM point.
The course entered a park, “Bois de Vincennes”, at around
mile 6 and traversed around this for approximately six miles. I found this to be a particularly good part
of the course. The road was still suitably
wide to avoid excessive bunching of runners and it provided a very sure running
surface. One thing that was noticeable
by the end of this stretch was that the temperature was definitely rising. Even at the 10KM point, having eagerly
grabbed a bottle from the water station, I poured at least as much of the
content over my head as into my mouth! I
maintained this strategy at each subsequent water station at every 5KM point. 
I questioned myself over my pace regularly but the
momentum was definitely leading my decision making. At 10 miles (01:24:14) I could at least
congratulate myself for the consistency of my pace which I’d maintained at
8m25s per mile. I made no mistake about
my gels at mile 8 and 12 and was still finishing the second of these when I had
my second rendezvous with the support team having just left the Bois de
Vincennes. It was certainly easier than
at London to pick out the faces in the crowd.
While there was good spectator support, it was not anywhere near the
absolutely huge numbers that turn out for the London Marathon. As in London, there was no shortage of
entertainment along the course with all sorts of live music.
Stage one of my run was fast coming to an end with my official half way time (c.13.25 miles by my watch) being 01:51:14. My focus now moved to the stretch taking me to mile 20. Despite a growing doubt about my pace I was pleased that through mile 14 and 15 I found myself keeping almost to the same pace I had sustained thus far. The course was by now running along by the River Seine and the bridges and sights across the river provided a fantastic backdrop, though I’d enjoyed the view far more on a Bateaux Mouches river cruise two days earlier! 
I was now steeling myself for a part of the course for
which I was particularly nervous. I
wasn’t sure exactly where this came other than it was in the river side section,
but I knew the course would be going into a lengthy tunnel (half a mile to a
mile in length). Sure enough, almost at
the point of mile 16, as I reached for my fourth gel, I could see I was fast
approaching the mouth of the tunnel. A
particular concern I had about the tunnel was the effect it would have on my
watch which had developed an occasional habit of shutting down when losing its
satellite signal, as it inevitably would in the tunnel. I also knew that in the dark my sight would
not be good enough to read any warning signal or guidance message on the watch
that would help me prevent a shut down.
Added to this, the point on the course at which the tunnel fell could hardly
have been a worse place for me. I
recognised mile 16 as a stage at which I had suffered on a number of runs in the past,
most particularly this had been the point at London where my injury had reduced
me to a hobble! The music and disco
lights in part of the tunnel did little to lighten my mood and it was with
massive relief that eventually I could literally see light at the end of the
tunnel! As I emerged I realised as well
just how relatively airless the atmosphere in the tunnel had been. My relief at drawing in gulps of fresh air
was further increased when I checked my watch and came to a tentative
conclusion that it seemed to have kept functioning and had pieced in reasonably
accurately the distance missed from losing satellite connection. However I was not surprised to see that mile
17 recorded as a 9 minute mile. I sensed
there would now be a real struggle to maintain my desired pace to mile 20.
For a further 2½ miles the course continued by the
Seine. Further tunnels came and went,
all thankfully short but each with a very unwelcome incline to be breached in
order to escape! While the Eiffel Tower
had been on the skyline for a while, I had avoided looking at it for fear that
I would be intimidated by the illusion that it was not getting any nearer! However it was now becoming a dominant view
on the other side of the river and at mile 18 I was almost parallel with
it. I steadied myself as best as I could
at this point beginning to look out again in the crowd. Before too long I saw Lesley and Natalie and
did my best to look in good form (David, now joined by wife Mieke and son Chris,
had taken a higher vantage point here).
Grim determination now kicked in as I sought to hit my
target time for mile 20. Focus was very
much on the road and my surroundings were increasingly a blur. I was aware that mile by mile I was slowing
to just above 9 minute mile pace but I knew that this was no disaster as long
as I did not slip much further. I had
come with an extra gel and decided to take one at mile 19 and keep the final
one for mile 22.
The fact that I was not in the most tolerant of moods at
this point was evident when I had a peripheral sense that ahead of me a smartly
attired spectator was starting to move across the road. Very assertively I put my hand up and felt a
stern expression mould itself on my face.
This had the desired effect of stopping the person in their tracks and I
was able to continue without slowing. As I ran past I reflected on whether I
had ever before made such an assertive gesture to a police officer, let alone a
gendarme!
With a reward of no small amount of self-congratulation,
I reached the 20 mile mark (by my watch I reached 20 miles in 02:52:11 though
by this point the official mile marks were coming up about 0.2 of a mile after
my watch). Whichever mark I used, I knew
I had met my stage two target by achieving a time that was pretty much on par
with the PB I had gained at the Kingston Breakfast run four weeks
previously. However, I recognised that a
combination of my earlier pace and the increasingly warm temperature had left
me with less energy than I had felt at the end of the Kingston run. Tempered against this, I knew that I only had
to see out the rest of the course at about 10 minute mile pace in order to meet
my sub 4 hour target and have about five minutes to spare.
Every water station was now an absolute mercy and
something of a scramble. One of the few
issues I had about the course was that the water stations were placed at just
one side of the road which concentrated the runners into a more limited
space. The confusion arising from this
was increased by the fact that at this point it was evident that a lot of
runners, including me, were less well co-ordinated than they had been earlier!
Mile 21, coming into another park, "Bois De Boulogne", was reached in a split time of 9m21s. I was happy enough with that! I definitely had the sensation of emptiness
in the legs – indication that I had used all the stored glycogen in my muscles
(even the carb loading pasta extravaganza cooked up by Mieke the previous
evening couldn’t quite take me all the way to 26.2 miles!). The brain gremlins were now having a field
day – they seemed to have been inspired by the live music on the route as there
now seemed to be a choral society of them incessantly chanting “stop and rest…
stop and rest!” Combating this I kept on
drawing on each image of motivation I possibly could.
Mile 22 reached in a split time of 10m04s. Disappointed to slip slightly above the 10
minute mile marker but I felt I could hold on without too much more
slippage. I hoped the last gel would
give me a boost. I now started to think
of the familiar distance of Parkrun – it was now little more than that distance
(5KM) left until the finish line. Amidst
these random thoughts flitting in and out of my mind suddenly… BANG!
Not literally a noise, but something almost as profound! Pain stabbed into my right hamstring, a loud
and despairing yell was drawn from my mouth and I was stopped dead in my
tracks!
I kept sufficiently controlled to take myself as best I
could to a tree adjacent to the course and lean into a stretch against it. Various images might have gone through my
mind – the vultures I had encountered in The Gambia could easily have been one
of them! However there was another
thought associated with The Gambia that came to the foremost of my mind.
A day or two earlier, Carmella had let me
know she had received a message from Ousman Gaye, one of the Kaira Konko scouts
I had met in The Gambia, saying that the boys would be praying for me. I thought of them and the photo I had of us
all together wearing Bearcat shirts and with this in mind I came out of my
stretch and limped back on to the course.
After about ten paces, with every proverbial finger crossed, I broke
into as cautious a run as I could. A
feeling of absolute massive relief flooded through me as I felt my right leg
standing up to the challenge (realisation eventually dawning that I had
suffered a cramp rather than a tear). I
ploughed on, doing fresh calculations and reassuring myself that even 11 minute
miles would get me to the finish in time.
A day or two earlier, Carmella had let me
know she had received a message from Ousman Gaye, one of the Kaira Konko scouts
I had met in The Gambia, saying that the boys would be praying for me. I thought of them and the photo I had of us
all together wearing Bearcat shirts and with this in mind I came out of my
stretch and limped back on to the course.
After about ten paces, with every proverbial finger crossed, I broke
into as cautious a run as I could. A
feeling of absolute massive relief flooded through me as I felt my right leg
standing up to the challenge (realisation eventually dawning that I had
suffered a cramp rather than a tear). I
ploughed on, doing fresh calculations and reassuring myself that even 11 minute
miles would get me to the finish in time.
Mile 23 eventually reached in a split time of about
10m50s. Now genuinely in Parkrun
territory and thinking it would be good to have Lesley in front to pace me
home!
Hanging on in there and mile 24 reached in a split time
of under 10m20s. Confidence now
reasserting itself, particularly as around this point a band was playing a
cover of one of my favourite songs, “Won’t Get Fooled Again” – there was no way
I was going to be!
Mile 25 reached in a split time of just over 10
minutes! A fresh calculation and I felt
that, even if I had to limp to the end from that point, I could still make
it. I sensed some easing off – I wasn’t
going to make it in under 3h55m and so why push myself too hard and make it
more difficult to achieve a new PB in the future?
If nothing else, the growing noise of the crowd was
telling me I was closing in. Once again
I scanned the crowds wondering if I would see the support team one more time before
the end – a glance at my watch, now saying 26 miles and suddenly I could hear
from the crowd just behind me a yell of “Bearcats!” My arm shot up in acknowledgement and reality
was now well and truly kicking in that the finish line was near…
Thumbs up and a blown kiss to the first camera I saw...
... and, as I reached the line, hands in
the air, in a gesture of combined relief, gratitude and celebration!
A tide of emotion hit me – much more so than even at my first marathon when for some absurd reason I had been disappointed with my time. A pace or two beyond the line I stopped my watch at 03:57:11. As well as the feeling for this moment in Paris, my emotions linked back to London as I realised that with the 4 hour monkey off my back my London Marathon finish somehow seemed more special to me now.
So much more to say… the kiss to the woman who gave me my
Paris medal, the text message I sent to Lesley once I had reclaimed my bag,
eventually reaching the Bearcat’s agreed post-race meeting point and the hug
with Lesley when I arrived there; the shared achievement, first with Lee, who had
finished a couple of minutes ahead of me, and then with Ali, Geoff, Chris and
Leo; eventually exchanging messages with Sarah and Nicky who had also finished
but not got to the meeting point; later on, after a cold bath, getting on to
Facebook to check how the Bearcats had done at the Brighton Marathon held the
same day. Finally a celebratory evening
meal with Lesley, David and Mieke!
Such an amazing experience - the pinnacle of a 19 week period that started with a 6½ mile run with the Bearcats on 30 November! I am definitely up for more of this and have signed up for the 2016 Brighton Marathon already!
Up until 12 June 2015, donations can still be made and will be gratefully received through my fundraising site:
http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/JohnReece
I close with thanks and best wishes and also congratulations on your own marathon effort of persevering to this point with Run Reece Run!
John
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