Fear of Malcs in a Dress: Asics 26.2

Vote Malcolm Barbour! 

I am so excited!! One of my running friends has been selected by Runners World and Asics to be trained for the Paris Marathon!

Only there’s a catch ... he has to beat off some competition first ... 

Now the lovely Malcs, in an effort to win your vote has been entirely selfless. He is entered into the Thunder Run 24 #allin24 next year and has offered to help us all speed up our laps by doing his laps in a dress.

Now how is Malcs in a dress going to help us? I hear you ask.

Well there is no way I want to see Malc’s sweaty arse running along in front of me in a dress. I am going to MAKE SURE that I am in front of him at all times. 

Ta-da! Instant lap time improvement. Speed through fear-of-arse. 

Will YOU vote for Malcs-In-A-Dress? You don’t have to sign up, just click a button here.

Paris Marathon 2013 - Race Report ... needing a 26 mile wee, an invisible Alex and a personal portaloo...

Today was the day. The alarm went off at 5.30am after what felt like an hour’s sleep. But today it wasn’t a nuisance ... it was a call that something amazing was going to happen today. After 16 weeks training, today was the day. All the midnight runs, the miles in the snow, the times I’d had to climb into my running gear when I’d wanted to climb into bed instead. Today was my reward for all of those miles.

I’d had some new running bands printed to go with my others that were specially for France

New bands: "1 min ,3:30 = 1 creme egg" and "1800 wanted this"

We were all meeting downstairs at 7.30am and we were getting taxis to the Asics area near the finish line. It was such a treat being in the warm in the Asics lounge at the start rather than shivering in the cold. AND we had our own loo. We decided we had finally made it. This may be the pinnacle of our running careers. Our very own portaloo. Get us!

Us all milling around by the taxi.

We left a bit later than we should have as once we left that was it. We were on our way. I started to leave then realised under my pre-race jacket, bin bag and poncho, I didn’t have my race number on. Face palm. Undressed again, pinned number on, dressed again. Sigh.

Nerves kicking in ...

We started walking to the start area in our white matching ponchos, surrounded by 40,000 other runners all dressed in identical ponchos. We looked like we were on our way to sort out a crime scene all dressed in white, wipe-clean outfits. Alex went on ahead as he had a bit further to go to get to his start pen near the front. We passed the baggage area and the Arc de Triomphe and stopped and got a picture of all 3 of us. I would like to reassure everyone looking at the picture that it does in fact say JOGGING on the front, not DOGGING which is what someone commented later ...

Me (left), Ady (middle), Mel (right)

We all started walking in a civilised way to the pens, Mel got to her time pen and disappeared in amongst the crush of runners. Ady and I kept walking and all of a sudden someone started running, then the whole crowd was running. I don’t think there was any rush but it was contagious! We were all in our running gear, about to run for miles and we just wanted to get out there and RUN!

We got to the pen entrance ... and nothing. There seemed to be no way in. The entire pen was jammed solid and no-one was moving. Nothing else for it ... Ady and I pushed and managed to move up the right hand side before we got stuck behind piles of discarded clothes and ponchos. The entire side of the pen was piled high with these. I was worried that it might be a bit of a trip hazard when we started moving but Ady was cool as a cucumber and said we’d be fine. He was right. A happy voice behind us and a lady introduced herself – RacingJules as I later found out!

We started shuffling forward and the start line came into view ... and through! We were off! The surface flying beneath our feet as the road opened out and the crush became less ... briefly! Then back into a crush of people and past supporters lining the sides of the road. Passed a sign being brandished which stated:  “Finishing is your only f*cking option.” Nope. Not finishing. Finishing SUB 3:30, but I appreciate the sentiment!

It was a very crowded course, already in about mile 3 I was passing people doing about a 10 minute mile. Either they’d got into the wrong pen, or they were being VERY optimistic about their negative split. This continued the whole way around the course and it seemed as though people had either no idea of their finish times or had assumed that the pen times were optional and had just aimed for the front.

Ady and I planned to run together as our finish times would be very close as we’d both trained for around 3:30. I’d assured Marathon Coach Steve that I would be sticking with 7:55 – 8 min/miles the whole way, but Ady was aiming a bit quicker and my Garmin was showing 7:45 min/miles which I was a bit concerned about this early on. However, with my pre-race nerves I’d forgotten to programme it for marathon so ended up doing this on the run which might have had something to do with it!

Due to the crowds, I lost Ady around mile 4 but he reappeared just in front of me at around mile 10. He was still going strong so ran with him for a while. Again our Garmins seemed to be showing different times. Mine was showing we were running at about 8:05 min/mile and while I liked having company, I didn’t dare risk it so sped up slightly to bring it back into my time range.

I missed out the first water station. The weather was beautiful with clear blue skies and bright sunshine, but I had run most of my longer training runs without water and knew I was already well-hydrated. The water stations were all mayhem. Although there were clear signs showing where they were, runners were cutting across others and tripping people up and the lids of the bottles hitting the road sounded like dominoes falling. There were plastic bottles and orange peel all over the road and I heard a runner go down behind me. 

I’d heard people say that this route wasn’t well supported but I found it brilliant! People were ringing cowbells and shouting “Allez, allez”. Until about mile 6, I didn’t realise this and misheard it. I thought there must have been a really popular chap called Alex just behind me.

People saw my name on my T-shirt and shouted “Go Sarah!” and “Allez Sarah!” It was fantastic! Runners World had printed some pretty salmon pink vest tops for me and Mel. The front had our names on and ‘Asics Target 26.2’ and the back had ‘Follow Me’ ‘www.runnersworld.co.uk/Sarah’ .  A French chap overtook me and shouted back “Ha ha! Now YOU’RE following me.” I smiled back at him and thought “I’ll see YOU at mile 20...!”

The en-route entertainment was also brilliant. There were bands and drummers frequently and it really made the atmosphere! I had previously thought marathons were meant to be hard work from beginning to end, but the enthusiasm of the bands and drummers was infectious and I wasn’t the only runner having a quick dance along while running! There were Firemen lining the streets with their firetrucks and at one point a hose arced water across the road cooling down the runners. I was hot but decided that hot was better than blisters and avoided it.

Marathon Coach Steve had told me that the marathon was 2 runs. A 20 mile warmup run and a 6 mile race. I’d heard this before, but when Steve said it, it had really struck home. It really helped as it gave me a countdown. At the halfway point, instead of ‘only’ being halfway, I had 7 miles left to enjoy the trot before I could really let go and get the speed up a bit. I kept thinking like this. The speed was easily maintainable and it really was a comfortable speed. I had all of these people running with me – all of whom also loved running and I would get a big medal at the end of THIS long run! What was there not to like?

My only real potential problem was a toilet stop. I had needed a wee from the beginning, but while there were plenty of urinals at the start taking care of the chaps, there didn’t seem to be any portaloos ... or any time to find any. My Garmin was on average pace per mile and distance, so if I stopped I wouldn’t be able to work out whether I would be on for my time. Right. Think positive. I’d once been stuck on the M1 for 7 hours needing a wee. This wasn’t as long as that and I didn’t have to go to work at the end of this. Positive thoughts. My evil conscience reminded me I wasn’t running on the M1, I was sitting down in the car but I ignored it. And sure enough by about mile 10 I’d forgotten all about it.

I knew that this was a truly International marathon and about 5,000 of the 40,000 runners were Brits. It was lovely seeing the different club vests and the familiar charities. I saw a chap running for the Dorset Doddlers and we had a brief chat (he lived about 15 mins from where I’d grown up!), Eynsham AC, Reading Roadrunners and a Bristol club vest.

When I got to Mile 20, I decided it was time to up the speed. I’m not very good at running the same speed for a long time – treadmills are my idea of HELL – and it was nice to be able to change the speed a bit. I also knew that this was the 2nd part of the run and as soon as I entered the woods – Bois de Boulogne - at mile 21.5 I was on the home stretch. The woods were beautiful and although the support wasn’t as much here, it was lovely to run under the trees. I also found the route mostly downhill which is always a nice treat when you’re running home.

I ran out of water at about mile 22 but didn’t like to throw the bottle away and I carried it as comfort almost to the finish line. I find us runners can be a superstitious lot, this bottle was empty but what if I got thirsty? I wouldn’t have an (empty) bottle to carry! It really did make sense at the time.

Coming up out of the woods, I’d passed the 25 mile marker and knew I was nearly there. Cyclists had been riding up the pavements, ringing their bicycle bells, ringing us home but this was the toughest mile.  I was looking out for the Arc de Triomphe as I knew the finish was near this but I couldn’t see it through the heat haze. I decided to count. By the time I reached 100, I’d be able to see the finish.

98,99,100 ... Arc de Triomphe? No. Bugger. 200 then ....

198, 199, 200 ... Arc de Triomphe? No. Bugger. 300 then ....

I got to nearly 350 before I saw the finish. It was very low so although I’d been reasonably close I hadn’t seen it ... and the Arc de Triomphe was nearly a mile behind it. OK. I’m probably not the best person to ask for directions.

Crossed the finish line. The lady beside me burst into tears. It just felt surreal. After all of this build up, all of the training, 557.2 miles run and 117 hours of training ... this was it. I had crossed the finish line.

A package was thrust into my arms containing a blue plastic poncho and an electric green finishers T-shirt. I walked forward a few steps and a rotund and enthusiastic French chap placed a medal around my neck and then kissed me on both cheeks and congratulated me. A wonderful French finish to a wonderful French marathon. 

I had no idea of my time as I’d had to restart my Garmin and the timer on the finish gantry wasn’t working. The tracking app hadn’t updated my time so it was all a bit of a mystery. I decided to get back to the Asics area and sort it all out there. The Asics area was next to the start line, right? I started walking towards the Arc de Triomphe. Luckily before I got there I got a “where are you?” phone call. Yep. I was walking the wrong way. Asics was next to the FINISH line. Nearly 2 miles later I was walking the right direction and the cramp that had threatened my arse had disappeared. See. There can be bonuses to having absolutely no sense of direction. You get to walk off cramp.

All of a sudden, a vision in a blue poncho was calling my name! Richard Langton came over and introduced himself saying he’s been following the forum. It was a lovely surprise and he had done really well and enjoyed the course too.

I got to the Asics area still wearing my blue poncho. Alex and Shady Ady were already there .. and I was being congratulated. My time had appeared on the tracking application – I was sub 3:30!

... in fact was 3:25:06 !!

I may be slightly excited in this picture ...

Decided the only way to celebrate was on the roof of the Asics building with a very cold beer. We all headed up into the sunshine and watched the finishers pour over the finishing line.

What now? There was no more training schedule ....

Couldn't remember the last time I'd had a beer ...

I would worry about that tomorrow. Tonight we celebrate. 

Garmin info here

Avg 7:24 min/mile

1.       7:51

2.       7:46

3.       7:51

4.       7:56

5.       7:54

6.       8:01

7.       7:51

8.       7:51

9.       7:51

10.    7:47

11.    7:48

12.    7:45

13.    7:48

14.    7:48

15.    7:43

16.    7:45

17.    7:18 (Time slightly wrong as Garmin confused by underpasses)

18.    7:57 (Time slightly wrong as Garmin confused by underpasses)

19.    7:48

20.    7:32

21.    7:43

22.    7:46

23.    7:31

24.    7:13

25.    7:27

26.    7:15 (0.71 mile)

Note: Garmin had to be re-set about 1/2 mile in

 

Paris Marathon - Friday & Saturday before...

I first realised I might have slightly overpacked when I had to for help to get the suitcase out of the car ... However I did feel that 3 sets of running gear, huge amounts of snacks ... and a 3 pack of crème eggs WERE essential items. Friday may have been a rest day but I was DEFINITELY counting getting the suitcase up  and down the tube station stairs as cross training.

I arrived at St Pancras ... 2 hours early. I was so worried about being late that I was now ridiculously early. But it seemed a good excuse for an early lunch. A 10.30am kind of early lunch. But breakfast had been 5 hours ago ... and I’m supposed to be carb loading, right?

I’d promised Ruth Nutritionist I’d have a jacket potato. Most places sell these ... don’t they?

Walked around St Pancras and found a French-style cafe with little tables and chairs and proper menus called Le Pain Quotidien. Got settled and had a look at menu ... ah. Hadn’t taken proper notice of the name of the place ... A specialist bread cafe. Not entirely sure this was the best option for someone with a wheat intolerance a couple of days before a big race. For the sake of the people who would be running behind me - or using the race portaloo afterwards - I vacated the cafe quickly before the urge to eat overtook me and I started shoving bread rolls into my mouth. 

Walked around and tried 7 or 8 other cafes. Not a single one within St Pancras sold jacket potatoes - or even potatoes of any description ... except MacDonalds. Wasn’t entirely sure I could count ‘Large Fries & Hot Apple Pie’ as sensible pre-race fuelling and was a little bit scared that Ruth Nutritionist would come and hurt me if I chose this so ended up looking further afield.

... And eventually found a greasy spoon cafe. Perfect! Cheap, cheerful and enormous portions. I had a jacket potato the size of my head filled with tuna and sweetcorn. Delicious! And mushrooms on the side. After checking out all those cafes I was feeling a bit peckish ...

Arrived back at Eurostar departures and after a few minutes of panic that I’d been given the wrong time, day or even that that Asics & Runner’s World had changed their minds about inviting me I spotted Tom the photographer (@photosmudger) and everyone else started arriving. Phew! Looked as though I’d be running in Paris after all!

After drinking lots of (decaf! Ruth, decaf!). I decided to go and find the loo. It was all dimly lit stainless steel, lined with sinks on one side and panels on the other. I followed the lady in front of me down to what I assumed was the entrance of the loos to find I’d accompanied the poor lady into the stall by mistake. Luckily she found it funny. I was mortified and scuttled off to find an unoccupied stall.

The Eurostar was quick and easy apart from the problem of trying to fit my enormous suitcase into a miniscule luggage rack. I hoped the acceleration on the train wasn’t too fierce otherwise I’d probably see it going the other way down the central aisle. I’d decided to treat the journey as an enforced rest and to sit there listening to my audiobook. However 2 minutes into the journey – due to too much tweeting - my phone battery died. Sulk. I resisted the urge to kick the seat in front of me and demand sweets and looked out of the window instead. However, there isn’t much to see in an underground tunnel.

Got into La Guardia and straight out into the sunshine to wait for a taxi. Paris was buzzing and mopeds were darting everywhere. It took about 10 mins to get to the hotel and we had literally 5 minutes to drop the luggage in our rooms and dash to the Metro station. We needed to register and pick up our race numbers tonight before it shut in an hour’s time otherwise we’d be waiting for up to 3 hours at the busy expo on the Saturday.

Got to the station and as Chris spoke fluent French, he got the tickets and Kat handed them out to us. It was like being on a school trip. But without the packed lunch. Several people ran past us and vaulted the turnstiles. The ticket attendant didn’t even blink. We wondered whether it was necessary to pay after all but decided our poor delicate marathon runners’ legs probably shouldn’t be vaulting just before the marathon.

Through the tiled tunnel and down the steep stairs to the murky platform ... and Kat realised she no longer had her wallet containing her cash, cards and passport. She’d been pickpocketed ... in a group of 16 people and not a single one of us had seen a thing.

The Metro was busy but we managed to corral one corner of the carriage. We had 30 minutes to get to the expo to pick up our race packs and numbers ... and 12 stops to go ... it wasn’t looking likely. Steve Marathon Coach decided that he wasn’t too keen on this uncertainty and taking advantage of the technology available was timing the station splits. I think he was reasonably impressed with the train driver as he was managing a perfect 1:09 between each station and the visit to the expo was looking more likely. Let down by the final station and we had 3 minutes to get to the expo. Which was 5 minutes away.

All of a sudden some loud music started up. It was like Muzak but on HIGH volume. Looked down the train and a chap had set up with a stereo and a trumpet! It made conversation impossible, but was nice being serenaded to the expo... definitely made it feel like more of an occasion. Until the trains slowed, and looking through the window, I spotted a train going the other way with an ENTIRE oompah-band in a carriage. Reckoned we’d been ripped off.

Off the train and into a sprint. Flying up the stairs, skidding around the corners in the station ... and a u-turn as we realised we were going the wrong way. Back around the corner and up more stairs. Flying through the gates and down the hill to Pavilion One. All the doors were locked and runners were streaming the other direction with their race packs as we flew past.

One by one, I was overtaken by the boys. This didn’t look good. I was supposed to be running a marathon on the Sunday and I’m being out-speeded and out-distanced easily. Twigged I was running flat-out in high heels. That would be why then.

Mel (left), me (middle), Alex (right)

Got to the expo and an Asics man was holding one of the doors open for us. We flew through and skidded to a halt in a great big hall. There were a row of booths ... all now almost deserted in number order. Showed my convocation which was a medical certificate from the doctor saying I was fit to run and my passport and was given my race pack. Through the picture on the front I could see my name underneath ‘Sarah – RunnyRunRun’. My heart speeded up.

Ambled back to the Metro at a more leisurely pace. Clutching my race pack in case the pickpockets decided to turn over a new leaf in marathon running and mugged me for my race pack.

All chatting and more relaxed now we’d got our numbers and could relax. Did a headcount and realised we’d lost Steve and Dan the cameraman on the Metro. Did anyone see them get off? Were they being held hostage by trumpet man? Maybe Steve had got so involved in counting the splits he’d missed the stop ... Got to the top of the stairs and they were already there looking smug waiting for the next train.

Had 5 minutes at the hotel – again literally – before the table booking so we put the phone on charge and dashed out again. The tiny restaurant was 5 minutes walk away down a cobbled side street. We got there and were asked to wait – in the street –for 10 minutes while the restaurant owner persuaded the diners to leave so we could sit down. Nutritionist Ruth had chosen an Italian restaurant which should have been perfect for carb loading. The first course was wonderful ... an enormous plate of rocket salad with mozzarella, hard Swiss cheese and artichoke hearts – delicious! But choosing the main course – in an Italian restaurant without having anything with wheat - caused a couple of problems ... However I decided on veal in a tomato sauce – which seemed to be my only option – with salad and tomatoes. Delicious.

This was the sort of food I was living on - was delicious!

Marathon Coach Steve decided we were going to keep our minds firmly on running and pronounced a DNF on meals not finished. No-one wanted to tempt fate with a DNF so food was finished. I however, confirmed I had in fact produced a negative split – eating the lamb much faster than the salad. Dedication!

I set my alarm for 7am on Saturday ... which caused me a bit of a pang as the previous day had been so busy – but Runners World & Asics wanted pre-marathon photos of us all on the roof of the hotel with Paris spread out behind us. Couldn’t believe the view from the terrace – it was AMAZING! We could see the Eiffel Tower, the business district rising like Manhattan Island out of the mist and the streets all laid out below us.

View from the hotel terrace

Tom the photographer had laughed because he’d checked with the desk clerk that we were ok to use the terrace for half an hour and the clerk had expected some cash for the privilege! Luckily the hotel director had given the go ahead and hadn’t expected anything at all.

The terrace was on the 7th floor and Shady Ady told us how he had shown his grasp of languages to his wife by pointing at the label on the lift: “Look – Otis means down in French.” Candice wasn’t taken in however and said, “It’s the name of the lift manufacturers, you muppet.”

Photographs were taken and we each had an interview but I was so excited about the marathon tomorrow that I gabbled and chattered and talked complete twaddle. I think my crowing moment was when I was asked something like “What was the highlight of the campaign?” And I just looked blank then shouted “All of it.” Sigh. I’m hopeless.

They turned it all around add we had a chance to ask Kate from Runners World some questions. It would have been nice to think that we had some tough questions for her, but Katie had been so amazing and helpful that we couldn’t think of any hard ones at all! Although I did quiz her about when I can upload pics again! Katie answered all the questions and she was so genuinely enthusiastic about our group of 5 runners and how we’ve progressed. At the end of the Q&A she said she’d felt like a Mum! Watching our progress and finally getting us here – to Paris!

Tom - photography (left), Katie - Runner's World (middle), Dan - Cameraman (Right)

We had 2 miles on the training schedule so me, Mel, Ady, Alex and Steve all went for a run with Marathon Coach Steve around the streets of Paris. We did a lap of the streets near us and it was just so lovely running in the sunshine. There were plenty of other runners around and we all shouted and greeted each other. It was a real festival feel. On the second lap we decided to take a detour and ended up at the gate of Montmatre Cemetery. Marathon Coach Steve decided to chance it and we made it about 10 steps inside the gate before being chased out again by the security guard. Whoops! Luckily he couldn’t catch us.

Montmatre Cemetary

Got back to the hotel and 6 hours of relaxation before dinner ...  decided climbing the Eiffel Tower probably wasn’t what the Target 26.2 team had in mind when they built 6 hours of r&r into the schedule so crashed out in my room. It had been pretty non-stop since we arrived so it was nice to have a bit of down time. And eat Pick n Mix. It was on my nutrition plan ... Nutritionist Ruth said so! (Hooray!)

Dinner was at an Italian restaurant. Are you seeing a theme? However, we hit a snag. Because it was such a tiny restaurant and it was a dinner for runners they’d put on a reduced menu ... full of pasta! Eeek! Not good for someone who can’t eat wheat before running! We narrowed it down and my only option was a lasagne made with aubergine ... which was absolutely delicious! But unfortunately no potatoes in any forms were available so I had to hope that this would be fine as my final carb loading meal.

We were on a table with Mel and Sam Murphy. If Sam offers you a cough & cold cure, check what it is first. Apparently one of her friends swears that sticking a garlic clove (Well I hope it’s a clove, not a bulb!) up her bottom as a cure for a cold. Well I suppose it would make you forget about the cold. 

Walked back to the hotel and set the alarm ... for 5.30am and the final long run.

Pre-Marathon Hypochondria - Stay Away I have Anti-Bac Gel & I'm Not Afraid To Use It!

I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a hypochondriac ...

My new Best Friends

Poor Bacon Steve has been suffering with his knee on the First Timers Asics 26.2 thread and while I sympathise greatly, I didn’t draw any parallels when my knee started playing up last week ...

I’ve just read Sam Murphy’s comment about her developing plantar fasciitus 2 weeks before London Marathon one year and now my right heel hurts ...

I read earlier about Mel (Busy Lifestyle in Asics 26.2) having an infected toenail so I’m expecting several of mine to drop off any day now. They’re all looking a bit suspiciously healthy at the moment but that’s probably only to lull me into a false sense of security. Even my problem toenail (which would be a rebellious teenager of a toenail if ever there was one) is looking almost normal in a manky kind of a way.

I’ve realised that I’ve become one of those irritating hypochondriacs. You’ve got a sore throat? Mine is sore too ... AND I’ve got a cough (coughs irritatingly). You’ve got measles? Me too. Mine may LOOK drawn on (hides red pen) but that’s only because they’re bigger and more sore than yours. And mine come off in the bath. I’ve got so paranoid about falling ill - again - before the marathon that every little twinge is a potential disaster and I really, really am doing everything I can to avoid catching anything else.  

I’m wielding antibacterial hand gel like a weapon and refusing to open any public toilet door without a protective piece of loo roll. I’m smuggling so much Andrex around in case of unexpected doorhandles I’m looking like moulting Egyptian mummy. It’s not a good look.

Also I’m getting strange looks after clawing my tongue when I realise that I’ve accepted a cup of tea from someone with a cold and I’m trying to work out the best way to purge my tongue of flu-y germs without a) offending the person who made the tea or b) spitting tea over expensive laptops, delicate instruments or industrial equipment. Customers apparently don’t appreciate drippy tea on their things.

I’ve got a sore throat from screaming after forgetting about my anti-bac-ed hands and rubbing my eyes. I’m so nervous I’ve started biting my fingernails – another revolting germ-y habit and I’m so busy straining my neck to check there isn’t anyone with flu in a 150ft radius I’ve given myself a crick. I’ve decided that I’m probably best off just getting on with my life normally and trying to forget about germs, bacteria or other creepy things.

So Ady (Asics 26.2 On a Plateau) and Alex (Asics 26.2 sub-3) ... I’m sorry I haven’t nipped onto your threads today, but I’m worried that if you’ve suddenly developed a niggle or a twinge that it will suddenly appear on ME ... and I don’t dare push my pre-marathon hypochondria any further ....

Asics Store Visit 2: Mad Joggers & Confusing the Competition ...

Asics Store Visit #2

I was in Central London yesterday and decided it was time for another visit to the Asics Store on Oxford Street. I’d managed to total my original beautiful, sparkly white trainers and they are no longer neither white nor sparkly, instead they are now shades of brown and rather sad looking. I’d decided to raid my savings and stock up on a couple of new pairs.

I know they gave me free kit at Christmas – securing my undying love – but I really do like this store. One thing that really makes a difference is that the staff are runners. I had a chat to one of their chaps who’d run the Paris marathon last and he gave me some tips:

• Watch out for orange peel and banana skins - yes really! Apparently the whole comedy slip-up thing isn’t just reserved for cartoons and the cobbles really become quite slippery with both of these.
• Keep your head up – the route goes past some of the most famous landmarks in Paris so if you’re keeping an eye out you’ll spot these. Some of them include Notre Dame, Eiffel Tower and of course you start only a little way along from the Arc de Triomphe.
• And ... possibly most importantly – the last 2 miles are downhill. Just what I wanted to hear.

I’d known that I was coming up to this store a few weeks before the marathon so I’d saved the pennies and today stocked up on some lovely new kit. However, I’d left the Asics store before realising I’d forgotten a couple of small bits I’d wanted. I was already the wrong end of Oxford Street and was passing a competitor shop ...

I didn’t burst into flames as I passed the threshold with my bag full of Asics kit and neither (disappointingly) did an employee leap out from a concealed doorway with a staff bellowing “You shall not pass ...” and attempt to confiscate my Asics shopping bag and replace it with their branded kit. 

I needed a gel belt. I had a running belt but this wasn’t quite big enough with my mobile phone and the 6 gels I’d be carrying for the marathon so I needed something in addition to this. Although preferably not in the competitor store’s colours as I didn’t feel Asics would be best pleased ...

A member of their staff was on the shop floor so I stopped them:

“Hi, can you help me? I need a gel belt.”

I was greeted by a blank expression and the question: “For ...?”

I hadn’t been expecting this. “For gels ...” I helpfully supplied.

Apparently they didn’t stock these. But I also needed a new buff after the last one had been donated to a cyclist. After the last conversation, it was probably best to make sure there was no room for misinterpretation:

“I also need a buff...” (pause) blank look.

“... A neck warmer?” (longer pause) blanker look.

“For necks?” Aha. A look of comprehension.

“Sorry. We’re out of stock.”

Sigh.

There were loads of runners around London – even in the centre of the city. They were neck and neck with the mopeds and cyclists for death-defying manoeuvring. Skilfully integrating in between the buses and cabs and hurling themselves off the kerbs with second-precise timing to pass between lines of traffic. A ballet of trainers and metal.

All except one lady runner who was obviously determined to have a run past the sights of the city but who seemed to have a severe pigeon phobia. She managed to negotiate the complicated crossings and avoided being mown down by a particularly determined black cab driver but when she came past Marble Arch and into a flock (swarm? pestilence?) of pigeons she had a mini freak-out mid stride, but managed to disguise this as a stumble. She did however have a bit of an arm-flail as the birds took off around her as though she was swimming through a particularly pigeon-dense pool but made it out guano-free and only slightly dishevelled. 

It made me wonder whether she could use her fear for a more targeted training session. Just imagine ...  If she covered herself in birdseed for the London marathon and with the added incentive of her ornithophobia she would be able to run a cracking time! No chance of slowing down for fear of being eaten by London’s feral pigeons. However, I discounted suggesting this to her by thinking of the mess the startled pigeons would make when the starting gun went off. We’d all end up looking like living statues.

I ended up walking over 8 miles around London and with the 7 mile run when I got home in the evening, I’d ended up doing the equivalent of a long run. Just very, very slowly. And with coffee breaks. And shopping.

No gels required. Just the incentive of hot coffee and shopping for new running kit.

Runner’s World Asics 26.2 Bootcamp 3 – March 2nd 2013

Decided to brave the trains again and walked to the Rugby train station. It was a lovely Spring morning and it was a bit of a novelty to go for a walk without my 3 year old attached to my leg. (We usually start off walking then she decides it’s too much like hard work and grabs my closest leg and demands to be carried. She’s found this to have the best effect when I’ve got a coffee in one hand and a handbag in the other and am unable to pry her off.) It was a completely uneventful walk and absolutely unpunctured by questions such as “Why isn’t Thomas a princess? Or “Why isn’t snow red?”

I’d learned from the last Bootcamp and had brought my coffee thermos with me this time. No more begging for coffee and regretful looks at the closed coffee shop door. Ha ha, Mr Starbucks. I’ve got THIS one covered!!

Nice uneventful journey to Birmingham New Street and I even managed to find the right station to get to the University station. Alright. I asked at the information desk. But I got to the platform under my own steam.

Got to the platform and there were only about 5 or 6 other people waiting for the train. A man caught my attention as he kept shuffling closer to me and kept staring at me. Not in a “I want to buy you some lovely caffeine way”, but in a “I want to push you in front of a train” way. Eek! I’ve got too much running to do in the next month to spend any time in hospital, thanks!

I ignored him and moved down the platform and put a couple of people in between us. He shuffled down and moved back in next to me. Ok. I ignored him and moved back down the other way again putting more people between us. Hopefully I was putting out “I’m too much trouble to stalk” signals. He shifted back down and stood behind me. What to do. No platform attendants around and what would I say? Someone’s looking at me? How to sound like an overwrought idiot.

With perfect timing, another girl walked onto the platform. I approached her and asked if she was going to the University station. I explained the situation and asked if we could sit together. She was fine with that so we sat together. Creepy Guy sat behind us – in an otherwise empty carriage – but didn’t approach us or try to interact in any other way. Phew! He appeared to be asleep when we got off the train and we were relieved to see the train leave. Thank you lovely German Girl for taking pity on me!

I was nice and early to the University. Café was still shut. Passing the Starbucks sign saying “We have a cup of coffee waiting for you inside” I resisted the urge to kick it over.

Had a good catch up with Steve Marathon Coach and we discussed the next few weeks in the schedule. The next 2 weeks are going to be the toughest yet … and then taper. I still can’t quite believe that there are only 4 weeks until Paris. 

Said to Steve about this cold and chest infection and how I don’t feel it’s completely gone yet. Steve reassured me that although I had Silverstone half the next day, I shouldn’t let the result knock my confidence. The important race is Paris, not the half marathon beforehand. He’s absolutely right. I love to race and would turn a run for the ice cream van into a sprint-out with the 10 year old next door if it came down to it, but at the end of the day I’ve got to focus on Paris Marathon. There’ll be plenty of time for other races after Paris. He suggested just playing it by ear or running it at marathon pace if I wanted.

Steve also said we’ll have to see whether we can fit another parkrun into the schedule – hooray! There’s something nice and reassuring about parkruns. Lots of people who love to run just running in circles down the local park! And coffee and cake afterwards! Steve also mentioned that he ran over 10 miles of the Paris marathon with Knightrider (the Asics Target 26.2 sub-3 marathoner) last year … without a number and just for the heck of it! How cool is that!!

Had a catch up and physio session with Sarah Connors. She of the soft hands and pointy elbows. I got away lightly this time and Sarah said how nice it was to see someone without any niggles. She did however find some areas of tightness on my back which I hadn’t realised were there. However this time no elbows were required and I proudly demonstrated that I had been practising my bridges.

I told Sarah that I DID want to be a better runner but it was fear of The Elbow rather than anything else that had me doing my stretches every day! She recommended getting a sports massage every couple of weeks during the high mileage marathon weeks just so no niggles get the chance to get any worse. She also checked out my feet for me. Brave lady. I now officially have marathon runners feet. In other words, feet not fit for sandals and which may be relied on to shed toenails at every opportunity.

Had a chat to Victor who is the sports psychologist. Victor was lovely and gave us some good tips for the day before marathon just so it’s a stress-free as possible. Number 1: Set out your kit the night before and use a tick-list of necessary so you don’t forget to pack anything. Number 2: Rest the day before. Just stay off your feet and watch TV. Victor also does triathlons and uses a special method for warming up his wetsuit in the holding pen before the open water swims. However, he assured me he drinks lots of water beforehand so he doesn’t burn a hole in his wetsuit.

It was time to do the marathon pace session. We had been reassured that this was a nice easy session. Sounded good to us! A quick jog up and down a pretty canal path and then back to lunch. Nope. First we had to pretend to run up and down the canal path so photographs could be taken. Ady had a near miss into the canal but we managed to do it without any incidents and without any cyclist road-rage … so a win!

Marathon Coach Steve and Sam Murphy had marked out a mile on the canal path so we had a nice run up and back at marathon pace. They set us off at intervals so we could run at our own paces without feeling that we had to keep up with anyone else. It was such a gorgeous day to run – a proper spring morning with blue skies and the sun shining on the canal. It could have been the middle of anywhere and with the green banks and the gravel of the canal path underfoot it was lovely.

We got back to the start point full of the joys of Spring. And Sam Murphy promptly confiscated all our Garmins. What?! We were then told to run the same 2 miles at 5 seconds quicker than marathon pace. Without our Garmins.

We were all set off at intervals as before. Ady went off 15 seconds in front of me and I was told strictly by Steve Marathon Coach (who seems to have me all figured out) that I wasn’t to just follow Ady but I was to judge it for myself. Bother. There goes my nice easy run plan.

Set out and tried to judge it by my breathing. I’ve got into the (probably bad) habit of using my Garmin for every run (except the very muddy or obstacle races) and I soon realised just how bad I was at judging my pace. Even on the flat and relatively smooth canal path I went off far too quickly and next thing I know I was practically tripping over Ady who was doing his best to ignore my heavy breathing over his shoulder. He must have worked out it was me rather than an asthmatic mugger as he didn’t speed up. I had the quandary then of whether to trust my own pace judgement or Ady’s. Was he going to slow or me too fast?

Overtook him. One of us had to be wrong. I knew me better.

However, I had a moment of self-doubt when I caught up with Bacon Steve and Mel. Hmmmm. Well. I was set at my pace now. May as well carry on with it. At least I hadn’t fallen into the canal.

Got back and Marathon Coach Steve read out our times. Everyone had done really well which meant … yup. I’d gone off far too fast, carried away by the thought of people to chase and the thought of running around in the sunshine. It wasn’t too terrible though – I’d done 7:35 min/miles instead of 7:55 min/miles but it would still be enough to make the marathon a struggle if I’d tried to run it at that speed.

Sam Murphy told me that I was still hunching my shoulders when I was running. A good trick she suggested was to put my weight into my elbows and pretend I was pressing down on egg cups.

Went to the track. It was very strange to think that this was our last time running on this track as part of the Asics Target 26.2 group. The Bootcamp in December seems a very, very long time ago. The belltower chimed while we were there. It has been a familiar landmark throughout the training as you can see it from pretty much everywhere on the campus. 

This session was a paced mile. On the straight sections of the track we were looking to do half marathon or 10k pace and on the curved sections we were to do marathon pace. So about 7:20 min/miles on the straight parts and 8 min/miles on the curved sections. Ady and I ran together on this part as we had virtually the same goals. Of course we got far too enthusiastic and finished the first lap at an average of a 7 min/mile. Whoops. We slowed down a bit and did the 2^nd in avg 7:23 min/mile. A bit better. The 3^rd in avg 7:28. Not too bad. The final one in avg 6:21 min/mile.

However, this was mainly down to Marathon Coach Steve telling us we could give it a bit of welly on the final straight so Ady and I had a sprint to the line. Yup. He got chicked.

We had some photos taken at the track where we ran a small section and then where we gathered around in a circle with our hands on each other’s shoulders and looked down into the camera. Apparently ‘Up The Nostrils’ shots are very Now. I apologise in advance for the bogies.

Pic thanks to Katie at Runner's World!

Back to the lecture theatre for lunch and then a shower and change. We all hung around afterwards, unwilling to go as this was IT. The last time we’d all be together before Paris. This was almost the end.

We took one last picture in front of the Sports Building in the sunshine, took a deep breath and headed away from the University and into the final weeks of training.

                     

Track work garmin info:

Pacing work garmin info: