NDJ's London Marathon - week 11

By Tuesday, the fear that came out of failing to run 14 miles last weekend had turned to anger. I was fuming about having to go for a run, I was spitting about how boring it all was, how the training had sucked the joy from running, how I'd rather go and have my other wisdom tooth taken out than go for a run... I spent the first 40 minutes of the 55 minute session writing a mean and sarcastic blog in my head about how marathon training is a soul-sucking, painful, utterly joyless experience; the last 15 minutes were quite good, which in context was terribly annoying.

Remember that thing about Tuesdays being cursed?!

Anyway, the one good thing I did do on Tuesday, though at my husband's instigation and not without grumbling, was order a new pair of trainers. Despite the new running shoes disaster early in my training, I had to face facts that my beloved Nikes had, after almost 600km, given up the ghost, and continuing to train in them was probably a bad idea. So I just ordered the exact same pair of very basic £40 Nike running shoes, and they arrived just in time for my Thursday run. Which was actually pretty good, and included at least five minutes of reasonably joyous running.

And so we come to today. 14 miles to run. I was so scared that I delayed going out by using spurious excuses for at least an hour, during which time I kept having to stop myself throwing up, because that's what happens when I'm that scared. During that hour I seriously contemplated jacking in the whole thing, because of course the real reason I was scared was that I knew this was crunch time. Let's face it, if I failed again, then the marathon wasn't realistically going to happen. 

It's never been one of my goals to run the whole marathon without walking. I know that's a really important component for some people, but I was always planning on walking through my H&N breaks (not least because I lack the coordination to drink and eat while running), and over the last few weeks I've been reading a lot about how much difference walk breaks can make to your body's ability to run further. So I decided to play it safe today, and split the run into four sections: three of 6km each  where 5km is run and the last km is walked, leaving the last section as 4.5km of pure running to the finish (14 miles is 22.5 km). 

And you know what? It worked like a bloody charm.

What I hadn't realised was that apart from the physical benefit, there's a huge psychological one. By focusing on each section, rather than the whole distance, I felt in control and much more confident. To be honest, the first three sections (to 18km) were relatively painless. In fact, it was only the last 3km that hurt and where my pace slowed, but that's been true of every long run - when I did 12 miles, the last 3km were hardest too. Today getting to 12 miles (19km) was fine, it only got hard once I was pushing beyond where I'd been before. Which is kind of fine, until you consider that there's going to be 6.2 miles of that on marathon day, because the longest run beforehand is 20 miles! But hey, that's a worry for another day. And actually, I did sprint the last 100 metres because I had energy left in the tank (and because I wanted it to be over!). 

Once I was home, eating toast and jam in the bath, I felt pretty fine. My legs are aching this evening, but not in a worrying way. And the fear is diminished, at least for now. 

So, 14 miles is done. Next weekend 16, then 18, then 20, then it's tapering down in the lead up to the day itself, six weeks tomorrow. God, in just over six weeks it'll be over. I can't decide if that's brilliant or terrifying. 

Don't forget, I'm running the London Marathon in support of Crisis. If you're enjoying this diary of my suffering, why not donate a few quid to help ease someone else's? http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/nikidjlondon2015