Cadbury Dunedin Marathon

Considering that I had comfortably managed a 50km ultra marathon the previous weekend, I was surprisingly nervous in the hours leading up to my first marathon.  My knee had been a bit twingy all week, and I had been debating running the full distance, or instead running the half, but I knew that if I didn’t at least give the 42km a shot, I would regret it.

The day of the race was bright and clear, and the drive down the peninsula next to the glassy harbour was picturesque.  The scenery, sunlight and the promise of excellent running conditions did little to quell the queasy nervous jig dancing its way through my digestive system.

The starting field of fit and lithe athletes milled about at the start, contorting themselves through various stretches and warm up routines.   My usual lack of pre-race organisation meant that I spent my pre-race time juggling gels, ipod, race number and camelback, desperately trying to get myself ready before the gun went off.

I opted for a singlet only to start in as the day was so warm, and was grateful later in the race, as the sun beat down.  I positioned myself close to the back of the pack, and we started out.  I found myself falling into step next to another runner, and we started conversing.  Topics ranged from previous race experience, to whether or not the conventions of modern medicine could be trusted.  Before I knew it my companion was espousing the benefits of “clean-living” tribes people, whose best and most life-giving practices (in the runners opinion) included frequent carnal interludes with young women.  This revelation was met with sly sideways glances in my direction.

This was a little awkward, but I laughed in what I hoped was a non-committal, and “let’s change the subject” kind of way.  Further on, the conversation steered again in the direction of the lascivious, my companion (who I here must mention was far richer in years than I), alluded again to the tribes people he so worshipped, describing in detail anatomy elevation of the aged - “I would love to still be able to get it up in my 90s”.

Shit.  I didn’t want to run my whole first marathon focusing on anything like this.  I wanted to run my own race, tune into my music, focus on pacing myself.  But the runner beside me, doggedly kept pace with me, and I in my naivety, didn’t want to be rude.

The final straw came, when the runner commented that I may end up pulling ahead, as they intended just to plod through the race.  Unthinkingly, and as this was my first marathon, I replied “you never know, you may end up out stripping me yet”.  Quick as a whip, the runner, in a lecherous tone of voice: “oooooh, wouldn’t that be nice, I would enjoy that”.

Enough was enough; I took the opportunity of the up-coming hill, to put some distance behind me.  I tore off.  The uphill run was good, and I was soon comfortably ahead.  But  for me that wasn’t enough.  I couldn’t risk being caught up later on when my tired mind might cope less reasonably with such propositions, and for the next hour I pelted along, passing runner after runner. 

I wish that I could have kept up such a pace, but at about the half way point I was starting to flag a bit, and as the course neared the harbour basin, a strong head wind built up, further sapping my energy.  I don’t know how much running the ultra the previous weekend affected my running during the marathon, but I guess it did a bit.  My joints were sore, and generally I was getting quite tired.

The course for the Dunedin Marathon is stunning, following my beloved harbour from the heads on the Peninsula around to Port Chalmers.  The sun shone down, and the water stretched away on my right.  The city, impossibly far away at the start, comes quickly into view, and then the course winds through the docks before joining the fantastic new harbour walk way for the last 9km to Port.

As the marathon course joined with the half marathon, I became surrounded by costumed walkers.  By this point I was really starting to hurt, so I spent the next 6km with the argument raging back and forth in my head about whether or not I should keep going – it certainly helped to pass the time.

It was hot on the harbour side walkway.  I threaded my way slowly through the throngs of runners, and wondered how my little sister was going with her first ever half marathon.    It was really good having Mum and Dad darting in and out around the course to offer words of encouragement and cheer me on.

With around 3km to go, I knew that I was going to finish, and I boosted along.  The course joined the road again, and the bumper to bumper traffic flowing back from the finish line, provided supportive whoops and toots for those of us still toiling away.  I sprung up the final hill at Roseneath (I love hills!), and pounded my way to the finish line.

I really appreciated how supportive spectators and other competitors were towards the marathoners.  Walkers were considerate, giving my right of way, and heaps of people offered words of encouragement and applause as I rounded the final corner to the finishing shoot.

Crossing the finish line was sweet, and I was thrilled to have made it in just under five hours – 4hrs 51min.  Running hard out of avoidance seemed to have really paid off! Another marathoner, that I had yoyo’d with during the run, but who had pulled ahead later in the race, came to congratulate me, which was really nice.  I also enjoyed catching up with some runners that I had known while I was growing up in Dunedin. 

My first official marathon was a really enjoyable challenge.  The overall achievement was a little overshadowed by the triumph of the previous weekend, and I definitely found pounding the pavement for so long punishing.  It was a privilege to share the event with my sister and friend Kristy, who both performed spectacularly in the half marathon.

For the next wee while I would like to focus more on mountain and trail running, especially for races, as I find the off road so very rewarding, and so much easier on my body.