Belfast Marathon 2022
It’s a tremendous feeling when a plan comes together… Especially when there wasn’t really a plan in the first place.
At every marathon I’ve ran to date, my left hand has crossed the start line covered with inky scribbles of target times for various self checkpoints to be hit during the immediately forthcoming race. Most of the time I hit those targets, sometimes I don’t. And sometimes I forget what they were after they’ve been washed away by rain or sweat. But this year, there would be none of that. No target times, no checkpoints and no hand scribbles except for the usual ‘Good’ I scrawl below my thumb (at this point it’s basically an essential piece of race day kit.)
I had decided quite early on in my preparations that this year we would proceed ‘plan-free’. Primarily because I didn’t think there was any point in having a plan. Over the first quarter of this year, my training had taken a number of blows from various external factors (health appointments and work deadlines to name but a couple.) And so, given that I’d maybe completed three quarters of a training cycle at best, I figured that setting a goal that I knew full well I wasn’t prepared to challenge seemed a sure-fire way of souring something I really love to do…
And so for this, the 40th Belfast Marathon (and my fourth,) we would embrace a little chaos and just run…
Expo Day
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the main change to previous Belfast Marathon weekends. That being we now have an expo! Unlike last year’s calamity of standing for 3 hours to collect our race packs, runners this year were treated with a trip to Belfast’s Titanic Exhibition Centre where I personally enjoyed a swift sub-10 minute pack collection experience.
This unexpected abundance of free time gave me a chance to meander around the expo and resist the temptation to spend May’s entire pay check at the various stalls. Runner’s are a predictable bunch, if you can fill a room with gear for sale and marathon course information, you’ll soon have a hefty crowd on your hands. Needless to say, the expo was a success. Special shoutout also to the superb String Ninjas who were on duty with some awesome musical goodness.
Having managed to leave the expo with my bank account unscathed, I made a final shop stop for some secret essentials (coconut water and wine gums for those interested) and returned to the hotel to settle in for the evening.
All aboard…
Sunday, 5:45am
An early start, an early breakfast. It’s important to get some food in early to prevent any stomach tragedies mid-run. A shower and several final gear checks layer, I arrived at the shuttle bus precisely just after 7:30am. I was surprised at how few runners there were waiting and I was able to walk straight onto the bus and off to the Stormont start line.
The preceding week’s fine weather had broken on race day - it was breezy but not cold. It had obviously been raining and the clouds were trying to muster another mizzle as we all went about our own unique warm-up rituals.
As stated at the beginning of the programme, there really wasn’t a plan for this year. Standing at the start line with a personal best of 3:42 though, it seemed to me the next natural goal would 3:30. My thinking, therefore, was to set out at 3:30 marathon pace and hold it as long as possible before the inevitable fade and simply let the time be what it would be. Pacing for a 3:30 marathon is pretty easy to work out, ( you need to run every kilometre in 5 minutes) saving on the kind of mid-marathon mathematics that see runners collide with each other and various physical safety measures. Having not planned or prepared in any way to run a 3:30 marathon, I felt free of any prior emotional investment in the endeavour and fully expected at some point to admit defeat. This wasn’t so much a race plan, more like an experiment for a future (more planned and prepared) attempt.
9am. The buzzer sounds and the Cool FM team declared us on our way. Thousands of hopeful runners, poured from the gates of Stormont and surged along the Upper Newtownards Road towards the city centre. There’s no sensation quite like the first half an hour of a marathon, the energy of your fellow runners and the enthusiasm of those watching on is infectious. It takes on a presence of its own, running just off your shoulder, encouraging you to move forward, (not too fast mind you - this is literally a marathon, not a sprint.)
Just go with the flow…
Approaching 10 miles, I was surprised how easy, the target pace was feeling. My early breakfast plans hadn’t entirely paid off though and I had to make an unaccounted for pit stop at the City Hall facilities. Given how good the pace felt, I had been tempted to run on and hope the discomfort would pass. One of the best pieces of running advice I have ever been given though was to deal with any problems as they arise, and thus I decided not to fly in the face of wisdom that was yet to prove false. Turning off the Lisburn Road and passing the halfway banner, a quick look at my watch read 1:44 - a whole minute under the halfway checkpoint of the 3:30 marathon. So far so good…
It’s amazing how much of a run you lose when you find yourself in that magical running flow state. When you’re completely relaxed and fully immersed in it to the point where your brain simply switches off to anything other than the task at hand. I think it’s best described as ‘meditating through movement.’ The noise of your normal thoughts fade to nothing and you find yourself in a tranquil place, where your body and brain are collectively reduced to a single purpose entity moving through space and time. Your only purpose is to run. As I summited the course’s largest climb around the 20 mile marker, I couldn’t picture any of the running I’d done since reaching halfway, the total distance ran on my watch was the only real proof that I had indeed ran those 7 miles. Descending from the highest point of the course, I was soon pulled out of my mental suspension, as the pain in my legs began to provide a detailed account of where I was and how I was feeling.
Despite the inevitable pain and fatigue setting in, I did still manage to hold a decent pace. At this point though, I had faded far enough from the magic 5:00 minutes per kilometre pace to mean that a 3:30 marathon was going to be ran another day. The handy thing about running more than one marathon is that there’s fewer things that can surprise you. I think having the experience to expect the pain, fatigue and leg cramps that start to kick in during those final miles is a great tool in helping one to manage them mentally.
No matter how many times I have ran them though, those final miles running up the Ormeau Road always fell like they’ll never end. During this final ascent, we passed a small number of runners who had collapsed and found themselves in need of some medical attention. A sobering reminder of the physical demand participants place on their bodies. The sense of gratitude at being lucky enough to still be vertical and moving forward at this point was enough to get me to the merciful turning point at Ravenhill Road. It is literally all downhill from there.
From here it’s easy to find that flow state again. As the final metres count down, the crowd grows in capacity, in volume and in enthusiasm. The finish line comes into view between gaps in the Ormeau Park perimeter as you round the final bend towards it’s entrance. You make the turn and all at once the marathon becomes a sprint, there’s 100 meters of maximum effort between you and the medal collection four months in the making.
A strong race bling game this year.
I finished the 2022 Belfast Marathon in a time of 3:40:07 - beating my personal best by 2 minutes. It was hard not be equally delighted and surprised when I realised, especially considering the couple of minutes I lost with having to make a stop at 10 miles. The real victory of the day though was that I beat the Flash in a footrace over the final kilometres (he didn’t know we were racing but that’s beside the point.)
There’s something to be said for not burdening yourself with the weight of personal pressure. I think the main lesson from this year’s marathon (there’s always at least one lesson - I defy anyone to run for 4 hours and not finish with a new perspective on the truth of something) is that if you can absolve yourself of your own expectations, you might just improve your chances at exceeding them.
A word of thanks to the folks of Belfast Marathon for putting on what I think was the best edition of the four I’ve had the privilege of running.
Now then… Anybody know how to train for a 100km?..
