Another note from PWW: This may be a long entry. You've been warned.
It was 4 AM when my alarm went off and I got out of bed with no hesitation. Despite not having raced in over a year, I fell straight into my usual pre-race rituals: morning ablutions, gear check, breakfast (oatmeal, bananas, granola bar, electrolyte drink), last minute gear re-check, out the door. We arrived at Milson's point just before 5:30 AM, an hour prior to the half-marathon start, and two hours before my race started. Mrs. PWW and I spent the next hour going through the pre-race motions of queuing up to use the portalets, going to baggage check, then queuing up to use the portalets again. It was all very familiar, but it felt like a dream, staring at the Sydney Opera House while warming up underneath the Sydney Harbour Bridge.
Soon after sending the missus off with a good luck kiss to start her half, I sat on the grass to get myself ready for the race. The area was electric, as one would imagine it to be when you get a group of thousands of runners together in one place. In the midst of all the frenetic activity around me, inside, I felt surprisingly calm. Too calm, in fact, that I started to think there might be something wrong; like the calm before a storm. I shrugged the feeling off, and completely forgot about it when I finally saw my good friend, Kaloy. We had a chat, Kaloy ate a couple of mini chocolates, and started twitching a few minutes later (something he usually does when he consumes sugar).
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| Ready to go! |
Just after 7:30 AM, as the first lines of Jon Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer" blasted through the warm morning air, we began the journey of 42.195 kilometres with a single step across the starting line.
SUGAR RUSH START
At the starting corral, Kaloy and I wished each other the best of luck, and agreed to meet at the end of the run just in case we lost each other during the race. I had an inkling that we wouldn't be running the marathon at the same pace, based on Kaloy's blistering fast training runs, combined with the sugar in his bloodstream courtesy of a few small bars of dark chocolate Toblerone. My prediction was spot on. Kaloy and I ran beside each other for a mere 200 metres before he sped off, weaving his way through the crowd. I tried to keep up, but figured there was no way in the world I'd be able to sustain that pace. I watched as Kaloy's figure slowly disappeared into the thick wave of runners. I later found out that he ran so quickly, he actually made his way into the 3:30 pace group.
I read somewhere that a runner is more likely to finish a race when running with a buddy, so I started looking around for someone who was running a pace which I would likely be able to sustain throughout the marathon. It was interesting how I saw another CREATE Champion (the term used for us who chose to raise funds for CREATE Foundation) so I decided to have a quick chat with him. There were, however, very few words exchanged, and I thought I ought to resign myself to the highly probable event that I would need to run this in solitude. Well, mental solitude, as running with 3,690 people is hardly solitary.
KM 0 - 10
Within a kilometre of running, we ran across the Sydney Harbour Bridge, one of the most iconic landmarks of Sydney, and Australia. I let out a few audible laughs at the bridge, thanks to my inability to contain my happiness. It was an incredible sight seeing one of the busiest bridges in the world completely overrun by fellow runners, flanked by spectators, devoid of any vehicular traffic. I was soaking it all in, giddily observing every single detail with any leftover focus I could muster.
One of the observations I made was that my Garmin beeped a bit earlier before arriving at the second kilometre marker. It was probably 200 metres or so short, and I figured it might just be because I pressed the start button too soon, even though I distinctly remember starting my watch right at the starting arch. Again, I shrugged it off, and just kept running.
At kilometre three, a jazz band was perched on the pavement along the street, on what appeared like a small cliff overlooking the road where we were running. Drums, bass, organ, saxophone, in unison played, of course, "Eye of the Tiger" to the cheers of runners. I gave them a quick few claps of appreciation as I ran past them thinking, "This is awesome."
I was running inside the Royal Botanical Gardens a few kilometres later, and ran past two men speaking in Tagalog. My initial thought was to strike up a conversation and gain myself a few running buddies to run with, but I figured I was feeling good and should try to keep up the pace if I was to make good time. Just the day before, I figured I'd be able to finish in 5 hours, easy. So I set a (not so) secret goal of finishing in 4:30 or better. I sped past them and made my way out of the botanical gardens, stopping at a first aid station along the way to slop on some sunscreen.
Running at a pace that felt like I could run in forever, I overtook a few people just before getting back on the main city roads.
KM 10 - 20
Along Oxford Street, in the heart of trendy Paddington, pub and club patrons were still enjoying their alcoholic beverages as we ran past the night spots. Some were only just emerging from the dark clubs out into the bright, 8:30 morning sun, with a few sober enough to cheer people on. (As I was writing this, Mrs. PWW told me she once was still in a pub when the marathon ran past. I am not the least bit surprised with her admission.) A big, bald, burly tattooed fella was standing behind one of the steel fences, clapping and dishing out some motivation. A couple of guys who looked to be on the verge of a massive hangover assisted each other as they tried to cross the street.
Interesting as it was to observe the inevitable end of a night out, we soon ran through roads empty of people other than runners, volunteers, and spectators. I studied the course map prior to the race, and I knew we were headed towards Centennial Park. After this section of the course, we would be heading back towards the city, physically closer to the finish. However, it seems I didn't study the course map well enough. I found myself surprised and frustrated at the way the course looped around itself, making the task feel Sisyphean.
Somewhere along kilometre 16, close to the entrance gates leading to the park, I disappeared into a portalet to answer nature's call and came out to a find a familiar face. Kaloy was walking past the water station and I ran to join him. He told me he ran out of juice and had significantly slowed down. We ran for a few metres together when he asked me how I was feeling. "I'm alright, man. You?" Kaloy said he was feeling the onset of cramps. "Feel free to have a walking break, bud" I said, and Kaloy slowed down to a walk. I continued to run deeper into Centennial Park.
What I found frustrating about this part of the course was seeing the lead pack running in the opposite direction, and I would start to think that the U-turn would probably be close ahead when in reality, it was a long way away. More mentally than physically, it was exhausting thinking about how much longer I had to run before heading back to the main road.
As if that wasn't enough, the discrepancy between my Garmin and the kilometre markers was getting bigger, prompting me to see if anyone else had the same issue. I ran beside a girl named Carmen, noticing she had a GPS enabled watch. I asked her what pace we were currently running in, and she said, 7:00. My watch displayed 6:24. It was way off.
My discovery started a snowball of negative thoughts. My head was going "If your watch had been wrong about your pace all this time, then you're not on the right track to meet your goal." Then I started thinking, "If my watch had been wrong all this time, then my training runs were all less than what I thought they were. Am I really ready for this race?" I was breaking down mentally, and it was the worst thing that could happen at this point. I knew that if I was to go on, I had to stop the train of negative thinking. I just told myself that my goal of 4:30 may no longer be realistic, and I'd have to settle for 5 hours.
SUGAR RUSH START
At the starting corral, Kaloy and I wished each other the best of luck, and agreed to meet at the end of the run just in case we lost each other during the race. I had an inkling that we wouldn't be running the marathon at the same pace, based on Kaloy's blistering fast training runs, combined with the sugar in his bloodstream courtesy of a few small bars of dark chocolate Toblerone. My prediction was spot on. Kaloy and I ran beside each other for a mere 200 metres before he sped off, weaving his way through the crowd. I tried to keep up, but figured there was no way in the world I'd be able to sustain that pace. I watched as Kaloy's figure slowly disappeared into the thick wave of runners. I later found out that he ran so quickly, he actually made his way into the 3:30 pace group.
I read somewhere that a runner is more likely to finish a race when running with a buddy, so I started looking around for someone who was running a pace which I would likely be able to sustain throughout the marathon. It was interesting how I saw another CREATE Champion (the term used for us who chose to raise funds for CREATE Foundation) so I decided to have a quick chat with him. There were, however, very few words exchanged, and I thought I ought to resign myself to the highly probable event that I would need to run this in solitude. Well, mental solitude, as running with 3,690 people is hardly solitary.
KM 0 - 10
Within a kilometre of running, we ran across the Sydney Harbour Bridge, one of the most iconic landmarks of Sydney, and Australia. I let out a few audible laughs at the bridge, thanks to my inability to contain my happiness. It was an incredible sight seeing one of the busiest bridges in the world completely overrun by fellow runners, flanked by spectators, devoid of any vehicular traffic. I was soaking it all in, giddily observing every single detail with any leftover focus I could muster.
One of the observations I made was that my Garmin beeped a bit earlier before arriving at the second kilometre marker. It was probably 200 metres or so short, and I figured it might just be because I pressed the start button too soon, even though I distinctly remember starting my watch right at the starting arch. Again, I shrugged it off, and just kept running.
At kilometre three, a jazz band was perched on the pavement along the street, on what appeared like a small cliff overlooking the road where we were running. Drums, bass, organ, saxophone, in unison played, of course, "Eye of the Tiger" to the cheers of runners. I gave them a quick few claps of appreciation as I ran past them thinking, "This is awesome."
I was running inside the Royal Botanical Gardens a few kilometres later, and ran past two men speaking in Tagalog. My initial thought was to strike up a conversation and gain myself a few running buddies to run with, but I figured I was feeling good and should try to keep up the pace if I was to make good time. Just the day before, I figured I'd be able to finish in 5 hours, easy. So I set a (not so) secret goal of finishing in 4:30 or better. I sped past them and made my way out of the botanical gardens, stopping at a first aid station along the way to slop on some sunscreen.
Running at a pace that felt like I could run in forever, I overtook a few people just before getting back on the main city roads.
KM 10 - 20
Along Oxford Street, in the heart of trendy Paddington, pub and club patrons were still enjoying their alcoholic beverages as we ran past the night spots. Some were only just emerging from the dark clubs out into the bright, 8:30 morning sun, with a few sober enough to cheer people on. (As I was writing this, Mrs. PWW told me she once was still in a pub when the marathon ran past. I am not the least bit surprised with her admission.) A big, bald, burly tattooed fella was standing behind one of the steel fences, clapping and dishing out some motivation. A couple of guys who looked to be on the verge of a massive hangover assisted each other as they tried to cross the street.
Interesting as it was to observe the inevitable end of a night out, we soon ran through roads empty of people other than runners, volunteers, and spectators. I studied the course map prior to the race, and I knew we were headed towards Centennial Park. After this section of the course, we would be heading back towards the city, physically closer to the finish. However, it seems I didn't study the course map well enough. I found myself surprised and frustrated at the way the course looped around itself, making the task feel Sisyphean.
Somewhere along kilometre 16, close to the entrance gates leading to the park, I disappeared into a portalet to answer nature's call and came out to a find a familiar face. Kaloy was walking past the water station and I ran to join him. He told me he ran out of juice and had significantly slowed down. We ran for a few metres together when he asked me how I was feeling. "I'm alright, man. You?" Kaloy said he was feeling the onset of cramps. "Feel free to have a walking break, bud" I said, and Kaloy slowed down to a walk. I continued to run deeper into Centennial Park.
What I found frustrating about this part of the course was seeing the lead pack running in the opposite direction, and I would start to think that the U-turn would probably be close ahead when in reality, it was a long way away. More mentally than physically, it was exhausting thinking about how much longer I had to run before heading back to the main road.
As if that wasn't enough, the discrepancy between my Garmin and the kilometre markers was getting bigger, prompting me to see if anyone else had the same issue. I ran beside a girl named Carmen, noticing she had a GPS enabled watch. I asked her what pace we were currently running in, and she said, 7:00. My watch displayed 6:24. It was way off.
My discovery started a snowball of negative thoughts. My head was going "If your watch had been wrong about your pace all this time, then you're not on the right track to meet your goal." Then I started thinking, "If my watch had been wrong all this time, then my training runs were all less than what I thought they were. Am I really ready for this race?" I was breaking down mentally, and it was the worst thing that could happen at this point. I knew that if I was to go on, I had to stop the train of negative thinking. I just told myself that my goal of 4:30 may no longer be realistic, and I'd have to settle for 5 hours.
