What I Learnt Running the Frankfurt Marathon

A marathon is a curious beast. It can catch you unawares and nick your running credit-cards without a moments thought.

I hope these tips help.

1. Definitely do a race in another country

On the face of it, running a race abroad seems like a massive undertaking. However, with a bit of forethought and planning, it is no more stressful that travelling to another big city marathon in the UK. There are a variety of companies that will offer to sort everything out for you and shepherd you round. If you want to completely eliminate the faff factor, it could be a good option for you. But always remember you will be paying a premium for the service. As long as you are not applying of a yak race in Outer Mongolia, pretty much all of the planning can be done in English. The race websites will have an English translation, and armed with your credit card, race entry is only a couple of clicks away.

Do your research when it comes to accommodation, it may mean paying a bit more to be in the city centre, but make sure your hotel is near to the start/finish (which are hopefully in the same area). When you’ve just run 26.2 miles, the last thing you want is a 4 mile trudge across town to your “amazing value” hotel out in the sticks. Business hotels are often a good bet as they tend to be emptier at the weekends and you can get some good deals. 

Expedia is your friend – we found some very reasonable rates in both Frankfurt and Berlin.

Flights can obviously be a big cost, I realised I’d been collecting Air Miles for the last 10 years  and so used them to get to Germany and back. If we hadn’t have had those though, I think it would have been a couple of hundred quid. A stretch for some, but if you’ve been training for this for 4-6 months hopefully you’ve been saving as well.

The expo in Frankfurt was really well organised, picking up the number took less than five minutes. Being Germany, everyone spoke English anyway so there was no confusion. It was reasonably sized, but we just had a quick zoom round and left, remembering the slog round the VLM EXPO. You’re there to run, not go shopping!

Other than that you’re only other task is to get yourself to the start line. If you picked your hotel sensibly it should be no more than a 10-15 minute wander over.

2. It doesn’t matter how fast you are, in the 24 hours before you’ll be shitting yourself with nerves.

The tension at the pre-race briefing was palpable. It doesn’t matter if you are an elite looking for a Championship Qualifying Time or an marathon virgin hoping to just get round in one piece, everyone has their own battle to fight and its natural to be nervous. You’re about to do something really quite special, so channel that nervous energy into focus on the task ahead.

3. You need to be selfish

Remember what I said about the expo – you are there to race, so that so be your primary aim. As lovely as sightseeing on the Saturday would be, it will mess your legs up and make you tired. After the expo in Frankfurt, we went and found a brunch place I’d read about, but that was as adventurous as I was going to be before the race. On the Saturday afternoon, Steve wanted to go and look at the old town. Believe me, I felt guilty, but I had to say “you go and enjoy dear, I ‘m staying in the hotel room”. Rest, Rest and more Rest. To avoid total cabin fever I went across the road and grabbed a coffee later on, but didn’t walk more than 800m in total. If need be make time to sight-see afterwards (although not race day afternoon, you won’t be in a position to do much then).

4. Do as much research as you can

If you are running in a strange location, try and know as much information about the race as possible. What is the course like? Are there any nasty hills? Where are the water stations? What are they serving at the water stations? The last thing you want on marathon day is any surprises. You need to put the work in and do the research. I may go a bit nutty about it, but I had the course map as my PC wallpaper. I didn’t spend hours and hours looking at it, but on race day I knew exactly where I was at all times, and when the next water station was coming. 

A lot of the major races have video run-throughs of the course on Youtube. They are invaluable. You can see course gradients/changes far better on those than you ever can on a map.

A little prep goes a long way on race day.

5. Don’t try and be clever

Whilst being pleased with my time and a PB, due to the reasons listed in the last post, my undoing was trying to make it all too complicated. If you fuck about, the marathon will find you out. Ease into the race, let everyone pass you, keep it steady and controlled, wait until 30Km and then start the heroics.

Anyone can be a race hero at the 10Km mark, they almost certainly won’t be at the 40Km mark. Calm down, bide your time and push at the right point. Or you’ll have a last 10Km like I had.

I LOST 10 MINUTES IN THE LAST 10Km. GAME OVER.

6. People will have very different reactions to the same result.

One of the interesting things about being with a group is it made me realise how much time you spend on your own during a marathon weekend. Especially post race, I was used to celebrating with Steve rather than lots of other runners. Their reactions encompassed the whole spectrum.

There was the guy who ran a similar time to myself and was absolutely gutted as he had wanted 3:15. Whilst I felt sorry for him not achieving what he wanted, it was why I’d tried to divorce myself from a number target before the race. I know in my head I can be exactly like that at times. Now, he as in a different set of circumstances, but he really didn’t seem like he wanted to celebrate his brilliant achievement. I hope he reaches his goals/targets in the future.

On the flip-slide, there was the lovely lady who’d broken 3:00 for the first time. I think she was possibly the most ‘useful’ (sorry Nick – your briefing withstanding) person I spoke to all weekend. It had taken her 6 ½ years to break the 3 hour mark, down from 3:08. Both times are amazing but it truly brought it home that you can't just expect marathon success, you’ve really got to work specifically for it, sometimes hard and sometimes for a long time. She admitted that if someone had told her it would take over 6 years, she maybe never would have bothered. But the fact she stuck with it and got it in the end was so inspirational – I was a bit starstuck. Maybe that was the beer though. She also acknowledged the effect her quest had had on family and friends. I think we sometimes forget as runners, how much of a pain in the arse we can be to those around us, especially if you’re the sort of runner that thrives of umpteen million sessions a week and all the assorted paraphernalia.

7. Enjoy the aftermath

You’ve finished, you’ve got the medal round your neck. You smell horrendous. But you are now a marathon runner and that feels good! Whether things have gone exactly to plan or a bit wrong, its fine. Don’t worry, panic or beat yourself up. Take a few days to think, reflect, analyse if you wish. But most importantly, stay away from those trainers. You may feel great by the Wednesday, but you’ve put your body through hell so give it time to get back to normal, and when you do start EASY.

After Frankfurt, we went over to Berlin for a little holiday. It was great as I didn’t even have to think about running for a week (or course I did but I didn’t let it rule my thoughts). Trainers stayed in the bag and the previous 3 months of pretty intense training eased itself out of my system.

Don’t launch into XC races, Track or Hill sessions. Just nice and gentle jogs round the park or similar. Enjoy the view.

Race Report - Frankfurt Marathon 2013

I was seeing red, lots of red. There was also lots of glitter as I was stood bent double at the finish line of the Frankfurt Marathon with a new PB and legs that were protesting fiercely.

The build-up to this race had been a strange one. I can’t say I’d felt nervous at all until the day before the race. The long runs had gone well, and I had enjoyed training through the summer rather than battling the winter elements as I had done before London.

Of course, as tends to happen with these things, it hadn’t been completely plain sailing. I’d picked up an MCL injury the weekend of the Northern Road Relays. This had limited my running for a couple of weeks. I’d tried to limit the damage by concentrating on getting out of the LSRs, missing the weekday easies.  More seriously, in the couple of weeks before the race, I’d suffered pretty  badly with my digestive system. It had all the hallmarks of IBS and the truth was *graphic detail alert* I hadn’t been able to run more than 5Km without an urgent need to shit myself (yeah, that was a long 90 minute run). This has knocked, not only my confidence, but also my energy systems out of balance. I realised that I wasn’t storing the nutrients from my food, and each attack was leaving me feeling quite weak. People were also noticing I was losing weight, not the way I would want to! Big pressures at work (a new job with double the commuting time as well as dealing with my old job trying to get handover) and other realities of life means that I’ve been pretty stressed, and that was probably was brought the IBS on. A lesson that sometimes life does get in the way of running!

As everything was booked and arranged, I had to go out to Frankfurt, but I had no idea what was going to happen. All I had at my disposal was a shedload of Immodium and crossed fingers.

We arrived in Frankfurt and found the hotel – Roomers. Very nice, although possibly a bit too nice. Even the cleaners were in suits. It was the sort of place which made you feel you should be grateful for staying there. But the room was lovely and we settled in. Frankfurt is a great city, very relaxed (odd given the circumstances).

Seeing the other RunningwithUs guys was great and a gentle 25minute run on the Saturday morning was the first run I’d been able to do in a fortnight without the world going wrong. During the day, we headed to the expo to get my race number and Steve and myself found a great brunch place I’d read about. That evening, Nick’s pre-race briefing was as inspiring as ever. You could feel the tension in the room but I think everyone was probably like me at that stage, just wanted to get it out of the way.

Race day soon came round. For breakfast I’d not taken any chances and brought some Weetabix with me (although no spoon doh) and then with race number pinned to my PLS vest it was time to head to the start. Bag drop was seamless, toilet was visited numerous times (nervous me?), Garmin crashed and needed a hard reset (of all the times to do that), and I was stood in the start pen. 

My race plan was to replicate the progression style of my long runs, so I would run ‘easy’ for 10Km, ‘race pace’ for 10Km, back down to easy for 10Km and then push at the 30Km mark to the end. The first part of the race felt as it should, easy, there were people overtaking me, but I didn’t let it bother me. We headed round a number of loops of the city centre, meaning there were quite large crowds the whole time. Being a bit exuberant, I’d missed taking my first gel at 30mins, taking it at 40 instead. Not the end of the world, but I needed to focus on the task in hand.  I#d settled into a pace of 4:45/km, on reflection slightly faster than I’d been in training (when I’d stuck to 5:00/Km easy). At the 10Km mark it was time to up the pace, we happened to be going downhill at this point and I started flying. It felt really good to stretch the legs. As we headed over the river, it started to rain, considering the biblical weather that was predicted around Europe that weekend, we seemed to be getting off quite lightly. 

 

Feeling great and pushing on at 13Km

The 15km mark came and went; I was breaking it down to 10Km chunks, so I was able to tell myself 5Km until the ease-back point. I was getting used to the water stations, possibly my ONLY criticism of the race. The water came in little paper cups, and the amount you got depended on the person who had filled it. Sometimes you got a full one, sometimes it was half-full, so you had to scramble around for another one. I think for an IAAF Gold-label race, it really should be bottles. It amused me that there was Tea at every station though.

At the halfway point it was time to ease back. I was starting to feel the effort now and the finish seemed to be a long way away. Having memorised the route map, I knew that 25Km would be back across the river so it was a relief to cross the bridge. My pace hadn’t come down as much as would have liked, but I was in good form so I decided to go with the flow and crack on. The course then pisses about for 5Km in a lovely like old town (I think it is called Horsct). I took the opportunity to piss about myself, or more accurately at the side of the route. Sorry for going into detail, but it seemed to be the longest stream of wee I’ve ever experienced! The seconds were ticking by, but it was the right thing to do.

Not long after that I spotted fellow Penny Lane Strider, Paul Riley on the other side of the road, we managed to miss each other up to the.  It was a bit of a relief to know he was in front of me (I worked out about 1.5Km in front) as it would have been mentally tough to have been passed on the course. When I was coming back in almost exactly the same spot, I saw Kevin from RunningwithUs – a secret Lemonade Sprinter. 

The 30Km mark was approaching and I knew Nick would be thereabouts. Paul’s brother gave me an unexpected cheer and boost at 29Km. Soon after, I spotted Nick (looking in the other direction). It was wonderful to be able to say “Yes!” when he asked “Do you feel okay?” as I’d felt like death warmed up when I saw him in London. “Well push on” was his reply. I’d planned to do just that at 30Km which was rapidly approaching.

The 30Km marker is the start of a long straight road of about 5Km. I took the pace up as planned, and was going on quite nicely.  A water station came up sooner than expected…

Now I should have ignored it and pushed on to the next one. But any marathon runner will tell you, the aid stations become a sanctuary in the latter stages of a race. It wasn’t helped by the fact that the drinks were being given out in the paper cups. You had to slow down to see how much water was in the cup and if you’d need to get another one for tipping over yourself to cool down. As good an idea as the sponges are, they are nothing in comparison to tipping 300ml of water over your head. 

So I slowed down to get drinks and then found it almost impossible to speed back up again. Legs just weren’t doing what I wanted them to do. I was staying calm and telling myself “just a bad Km, carry on” but I couldn’t seem to get back on the pace and focus as I had done for the first ¾ of the race. I was taking some solace that others around me were struggling as well but it was cold comfort. Somehow I’d lost a mental battle almost without noticing. Each water station was a chance of a pause (well slow down) and a drink, so the course back into town was a bit stop-start. I tried, but your brain is in a bad place by that point. I was telling myself Steve Way’s words to the GB Men “Don’t be Shit, Don’t Be Shit”.  The support from the crowd was amazing. By doing another few laps in town before the finish, we got the massive crowds again when we needed them most.

I noticed one of the RunningwithUs guys , Kevin, from his Crowborough Runners vest. “Just stay with him” told myself. I was in that dark nether world just before the end of the race when times are really irrevevant. It was a case of survival at that point. I stayed with him for (I think) about a Km but the Calf Snipers were in full force at that point and I had to slow to a hobble briefly. But with each step I was getting closer to home. I passed Duncan, another RwU runner coming in the other direction at about 40.5Km. I shouted encouragement and he looked at me with the most powerful expression I think I’ve been on a runner. After the summer he’s had, much kudos to him, I’m in awe of the running community at times.

I saw Steve (for the first time) stood at the 41km mark. I headed over and handed him my gel belt, of little use now. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t. If I had I would have burst into tears and I think he might have done as well. I only had 1200m to go. Three laps of a track, but it was like being asked to stand at the start line and do it all again.

 

This is what 41Km felt like

The final long straight involves running under the start line and then turning left to head into the indoor finish. On that left turn, with 200m to go, we were hit with a wind that properly stopped everyone in their tracks. It was a wind tunnel! But we battled on, grizzled. Suddenly I was no longer outside and there was the finish line in front of me. I apologise, dear reader, but the lasers and the cheerleaders passed me by. I just saw the finish line.

 

Nothing in the universe exists apart from that finish line

And that’s how I came to be bent double, staring at the red carpet and glitter with a new PB of 3:27:33 and a ticket into the sub 3:30 party.

I’m going to write a Part 2 tomorrow as there is more story to tell and more lessons to share. Hope you come back for a read.

LSR - The Aftermath

Talkies, they'll never catch on

Race Report - Lake Vyrnwy HM

Wednesday – I was starting at a dark cloud on the screen. The cloud had three raindrops on it, I don’t think I’d ever seen three raindrops on a cloud before. The weather forecast for Sunday was abysmal. Bookended by two relatively decent days, the weather predicted for Sunday the 15^th of September was almost biblical. “I knew I should have done Bristol” I said to myself. The 1pm start time of Lake Vyrnwy put it right in the middle of the worst of the weather.

I sent Nick an email to see if there were any changes to the plan. “If it’s a bad as they say, run marathon pace, otherwise go for it, you’re in PB shape” was his reply, and of course he was right. When I’d set my HM PB at Bath in the spring, and gone sub-90 for the first time, it was on the back of a persistent bit of foot pain and a dodgy 10K result. This time, I was clearly the fittest I’d ever been and was *touch wood* injury free. So no excuses really, and it seemed a shame to miss out because of a bit of inclement weather.

The day arrived and I trooped down to Lake Vyrnwy, on my own as Steve had flatly refused to stand about in the hissing rain for hours on end. You can’t really argue with that, but it felt strange not having him there. After the rigmarole of Bath and Bristol, having such a low-key approach to a HM PB attempt seemed strange. 

On arrival I was met with some pretty persistent rain and wind. The runners all huddled in the village sports centre, like refugees. An announcement that “there was 20mins to go and would the runners make their way to the start” was met with indifference by all present. The Vyrnwy Half has a great community feel about it, the sort of race that feels like it is put on by runners, for runners. The big city events can be great (see Bath) but I think I prefer these smaller races, especially if you get a good field at the front. Soon it was time to make our way to the start.

I’d brought a VLM space-blanket to wear at the start, felt a bit of a tit, but it kept me warm (as well as enabling me to do Superman impressions). The start was actually on a downhill slope, and as I made my way up the hill I noticed there were finish time markers by the side of the road. Standing where I usually stand in races, I noticed I was by the 70min marker. Oops! I trotted further up the hill, coming to a stop by the 80-90min marker. Looking back towards the start I couldn’t help but notice “there are a hell of a lot of sub 80min HM-ers  here?” At that point a couple of gents directly behind me started talking about finishing times, as soon as I heard “ break 2hrs” I nudged forward a bit, but still found myself quite far back from the front. All of a sudden we started moving forward, I don’t think I heard a gun but it looked like we’d started so I whipped off the space-blanket and got ready to start the Garmin on the line.

The first mile of the course is uphill to the reservoir, I didn’t want to use up too much energy at the start so kept it steady, I was overtaking a lot of people who had started too far forward (grrr) but it looked like I wasn’t the only one, as a couple of very quick runners came powering through, I was tempted to go with them, but I was here to run my own race. My plan was to do a “Bath”, I know what pace I wanted and would stick to that, no dramas. The first mile marker came into view and I lapped my watch “6:52”. Not bad considering the weaving I’d had to do. Let’s do this. The couple of ham rolls I’d scoffed an hour earlier were causing a bit of cramp, but there was sod all I could do about it so I did my best to ignore it.

Not before long, we were starting to make our way round the reservoir, Mile 2 marker came and I clocked the mile split, well I tried to but the rain was obscuring the screen. I thought it had said 6:40something so I let it be. The next few miles were pretty uneventful. At the first water station I was relieved that they were giving out proper bottles, not plastic cups (with the lids already removed, another example of how well run the event was). 

At about Mile 3, a felt someone on my right shoulder, quite a tall lean guy passed me and do you know he was the spitting image of Andrew Lemoncello! Of course it wasn’t, but regular readers of this blog will know how my brain loves a flight of fancy occasionally. He settled about 75m in front of me, but then I had someone to work off, so what did I do? For the next 3 miles I reeled in Andrew Lemoncello! When I overtook him, he came with me, along with a young lad who was by us at the time. After about 400m they seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it and dropped back. BOOM!

 

On reflection, this was the first time I properly realised the race was going well, by about Mile 6 the only thing I could hear was the slightly heavy breathing of the guys next to me and  I felt fine. I’d been warned about the incline at that point, but to be honest after Kenyan Hills sessions it felt relatively flat. In fact, I was doing a lot of my overtaking on the slightly ‘up’ bits as people seemed a bit cautious. 

It was great to reach the turning point at the top of the Lake. The feared-for wind didn’t really materialise and I carried on knocking of the miles back on target. Mentally, I was telling myself “don’t go silly, keep it in a box” I was reeling runners in all the time which felt amazing, I was trying not to be ‘isolated’ for too long, so if there was a group ahead I would push on slightly to get amongst them. This became harder as the race went on as the runners were spread out, so I resorted to catching individuals “the vest in front” as ‘someone’ might say.  The wind and rain was actually helping here, by acting as a cooling agent as my body temperature started to rise.

At about the 8-9 Mile mark I spotted the black and white vest of a Penny Lane Strider ahead. This was a critical moment for me, I knew it was Steve McNicholas and he is a very good runner. Now, I could either let him beat me by beating myself up, or I could crack on. I wasn’t sure if he’d stay on my shoulder or not, and mentally I would have found that tough. I reeled him in over the course of a mile or so, breathing a bit heavier by this point. 

“Push on Mitch, get that PB” he said as I passed. My brain started to meltdown slightly at the thought it was all going well but I locked it down within a second. I really appreciated that call from Steve and was able to mentally block him out of my head from that point. This was my race and I wanted to be first Strider home (I hope this doesn’t sound too mercenary). I’ve got tired of mediocre performances over the years, and of late I’m learning how to make sure I don’t have another. 

The last water station seemed to take an age to arrive, even though the Mile Marker was saying 10 or 11 miles, my brain was trying to tell me it was much further than that. Of course, I ignored it. It helped that I knew the last mile was pretty much all downhill to the village. This mean I could tell myself “you just need to get to Mile 12 and then let Gravity do all the work”. Before long, the water tower of the reservoir came into view and I knew it was nearly time to head back down the hill. At this point a runner came steaming through, and I was half tempted to go with him but I’d got to that point by being sensible and didn’t was to mess it up now, so I carried on as per plan. I’m quite proud that, whilst going round the reservoir, I think I can count the number of runners who passed me, but I didn’t subsequently re-pass, on one hand.

We descended the hill back to the finish line, there was a little kick of a hill about 400m from the finish which I swore myself up, and before I knew it, it was all over.

My watch said 1:27:54 – Frist Penny Lane Strider home and an 84 second PB. I’ll take that any day. The marshal at the finish line has said I was the first runner she’s seen smiling over the finish, but how could I not, it had pretty much been a perfect race and the fact that about three quarters of it had felt like an easy Sunday run made it even better. At times, I am accused of being too cautious in racing, but that seems to work for me, and to be honest, to more I race in this way, the more confidence it is giving to got a bit crazy at a future race. Maybe next year, it will be at Lake Vyrnwy. I’ll be tearing up those roads.

Slightly Damp

PS) True to the Hawkins Family Curse, I didn’t appear in the final results, I have contacted the timing people and it's now sorted - confirmed as 1:27:54 as they found me on the race video

 

PPS) Steve got his own back, I had 45 minutes easy to do afterwards and he sent me off down this road which turned into a hill. A very big 2-mile long hill. Ouch.

Summer Madness

I’ve done you a disservice, dear Reader.  Whilst we can all rush to the blogosphere to detail various calamities and failures, the successes are not shouted about nearly as much. In my own case, it’s felt like if I talk about them too much they might vanish! But no, that’s silly. I’ve had two PBs in the last few weeks; indeed they were within 3 days of each other. Late Summer Madness one might say.

Many thnaks to Martin for the great race shot

I love summer training, this time last year I wrote about how the training I’d been doing  had given me an engine. Well, this summer the engine has been well and truly stoked. Both in training and racing, the ability to push myself that little bit more has reaped many benefits and made it a very pleasant few weeks that I’ll try and summarise. 

Core Work – Do it. Don’t make excuses, it will help. You’ll feel so much better in races and won’t believe. Good posture and form makes running so much more enjoyable. You can even mimic the “RunningWithUs” style, yes, I think there is one – look at the photos, hehe. It may seem silly, but next time you are on a run, think about a faster runner you really respect and how they run and emulate their form. Chances are it’s better than yours and might help make a few neural connections.

Group Training – I’ve been very fortunate in the last few weeks to have had company at various points of my runs, each person bringing their own experience and skill to a particular session. Special shout-outs to Cristina’s metronomic 8mm pacing on Sunday runs and Neil Kelly for the weekend of awesome culminating in a run the length of Queens Drive, something I’ve always wanted to do. Wonderful sessions in the sun, of efforts and progressions. I’ve been a very lucky man. My last post spoke of a training group, well unofficially it’s kind of happened lately and it’s worked.

PBs – Very proud of my PBs this summer, 40:17 for 10K – was a ‘valiant’ attempt at a sub-40, and I know what I need to do now. Even pacing and non-hilly courses are the way forward! A sneaky attempt will be due at Abbey Dash in November. However, the main celebration has been the sub-19 (18:57) at Capenhurst 5K. Even typing it gives me goosebumps. When I first came back to running, I wrote down on a piece of paper a time for 5K that I’d be very happy with, and I’m about 10 seconds away from that now. The race was brilliant, I felt strong for most of it, and best of all, fellow Striders who normally shoot off into the distance at races, were still within sight at 3K.

It finally feels like I’ve announced something with my training. To whom I’m announcing this I’m not quite sure, possibly myself - a reassurance that it is all worth it, and I’m on the right path. I’ve found the non-squad training hard this summer, due in part to that fact I was having a pretty shitty time earlier on in the summer. When you’re feeling down, the company of others can be invaluable.

Less than two years ago I was running 21:33 for 5K. Runners who I respect in massive amounts were saying “Wow, I’d love to go under 19”. But before my head inflates too much, I know it is only 1 second (I made it 3, but I’ll not go there)  but it’s a win in my book and the way that I’m learning to ‘race’ within the race is really exciting.  Running against other Striders no longer phases me and the skills of holding back, surging, staying on a shoulder, taking a chance and pushing on and seeing who comes with you - It’s all new to me, and it’s great :D

This summer I’ve learnt that it is not just hard training that is important, it is consistent training that works. Success doesn’t happen overnight, but eventually you will get to where you want to be. That having a bad race isn’t the end of the world, we ALL have them. It often gives you the necessary zing to do well next time. On the flip side, good races can provide a shot of confidence that is priceless.

Frankfurt isn’t far away now, things are getting spicy.

...even Spicer with the Yellow Calf Guards. They can't go unmentioned. I LOVE them.