1989 Gold Coast Marathon

This years Gold Coast Marathon was held on 23rd July 1989. Roz, Tracey and I stayed at the Hi-Ho Holiday Inn, only half a kilometre from the start of the event. Our very good friends, Tony, Glenda and Cathy Roberts are also staying there. Tony is to run the marathon also. On the Sunday morning I awake earlier than planned due to all the activity by race organisers going on below us preparing for the event. Breakfast consists of toast and coffee. Mum and Dad stayed with us overnight, so they are awake to experience their son's preparation.

It is 6.10am and Tony and I, together with our families, begin the walk to the start area. I met up with Phil Dickinson who is running the half marathon. We chat for a short time and then Tony and I go for a short jog. With ten minutes to go, we go for another warm up jog and then say goodbye to the family. There is three minutes to the start and we make our way to the start area amidst hundreds of other runners. I was not nervous at all and quite looking forward to the journey ahead.

The starting pistol fires at 6.30am and off we go. Everyone is careful to stay on their feet and maintain a position as at this time, falls can occur in their eagerness to get going. Tony and I pass the Hi-Ho Motel where roads merge, the density of runners becomes less as they sort themselves out. Tracey and Cathy give us a wave. Not too far down the road we were behind one guy with very bad body odour. What's he going to be like at the end of then run? Needless to say, we got in front of this person very quickly. A wheelie entrant was darting all over the place about 200 metres up and not long after he had turned around and looked as though he was pulling out. Further up the road, this wheelie passed us. Tony asked what was wrong and he replied that he had lost a spring on the steering mechanism and was having trouble controlling the chair.

We ran passed Iluka and I spotted Alice Dickinson and her sister, Dorothy. There were now lots of spectators lining the streets. The lifesavers were going through an exercise drill in the sand adjacent to the road we were running on. The smell of breakfast cooking in the holiday units drifted across us as we ran along. The wheelie had again stopped for more repairs. Five kilometres had gone by, I didn't feel like a drink at this first stop. Tony's beeper on his watch sounded shortly after and I figured we should have been a little further along. We were clocking 4.15 per kilometre for the first three but were now losing 5-15 seconds every kilometre after. I'm eager to go faster, I don't think Tony is and I constantly find myself just ahead of Tony.

We are now on the road to the Spit and the development around the area since last year is enormous. A wheelie (different to the previously mentioned one) is the first to greet us returning from the Spit. Brad Camp is leading the running division about 200 metres ahead of Pat Carroll and his group. Where is Steve Moneghetti ?, not running according to a runner alongside us. A beautiful Mercedes goes past us and I uttered, "He can have his Mercedes, I bet he can't run a marathon!" There was a group of runners with us now, and they asked if we were the 3.08 group. Wouldn't that be nice! Of course, we were not but they ran with us briefly before leaving us in their wake.

Bruce Bate called out to me as we approached the Spit. He was about 250 metres in front of us. I wasn't thirst but drank some water anyway, as did Tony. Tony's beeper went off again-we were ahead of schedule but only just. Greg is keeping an eye on Joan from behind, they are about a kilometre back. They looked quite good. We spot a guy running in bare feet, what does he use for brains?? There was another runner dressed in light blue (tight) dress shorts and a casual T-shirt and in what appeared to be cheap runners. He was ahead of us then but I passed him at the 23 kilometre mark. Another runner was dressed in Bermuda shorts, colored T-shirt and braces. I noticed two others wearing "I'm the next Sydney-Melbourne Ultra Marathon Winner." Then there was the girl dressed in a Playgirl Bunny outfit with a white tail.

Allison Coleman wasn't competing this year as she was flying out to America the next day to compete over there. However, she appeared at the roadside now, encouraging everyone she knew. At about the 14 kilometre mark I saw Greg and Joan's son in law-Stewart. Well, I thought it had to be him-who else would wear a black T-shirt with the words-"Greg and Joan's Supporters" on it. Stewart's wife, Sharon, wasn't there then but she was, on the way back. Brad Camp is still leading the field. The half marathoners now go on a different route, so we don't see any more of them for now. We cross the Southport bridge and it is then that Tony tells me of his problems. He is running with a painful leg injury and he is slowing. I decided that I would have to go ahead although I am reluctant to do so. Mike and Carol Charles from Hervey Bay wave to me near Labrador. Having passed the turn around point at Labrador, Tony was 300 metres away and looking distressed. I have a drink and notice Joan go by.

I must admit, I was feeling very strong at this point and commenced to pass plenty of runners. Allison is there urging us on again as we head on to Main Beach. I have another drink and it doesn't seem too long before I pass McDonalds at Surfers Paradise. I figured I went through 21 kilometres in 1 hour 33 minutes. I wasn't totally unhappy with this time although I had quietly hoped for a 1 hour 30 minute half marathon. However, as I was feeling great, perhaps this time would be better for me in the end.

At the 27 kilometre drink stop, young girls in swim suits were having water fights. At 28 kilometres Roz, Mum, Dad and Glenda were there offering encouragement.. Roz offered me the sun hat but no, I didn't want it as there was no sun, it was quite cloudy. In fact, I had felt quite cool, body wise. Ken Mewha, who ran a great half marathon (83.04 minutes) just minutes earlier, jogged with me for a few hundred metres. His wife, Annette, was also there urging me on. I've passed the start/finish line now and head South to Nobbys Beach and Burleigh Heads. Brad Camp would only be 5 minutes from finishing as it's 2 hours 5 minutes gone and Brad won it in 2 hours 10 minutes. The route takes me on to the Gold Coast Highway and exhaust fumes from the reasonably heavy traffic. I come across Allison again. My calf muscles are very sore. I met up with the guy who asked if we were the 3.08 group. I ran with him for 300-400 metres and he then went ahead of me again when I stopped at a drink station. I ran with a girl for another short distance and she too, moved on. I can't wait for the turn around point and I almost strain my eyes looking for that Drum and Marshall's which signal that turning point. Burleigh Heads is a long way off. I arrive there however with much relief and there's only one way home now. In running talk, this is about half way.

I'm drinking at every stop, it's so important at this stage of a marathon. I haven't had a stitch, don't want one either and I suck in the air with a few deep breaths for good measure. Joan Darlington is hardly 2 kilometres behind me. She was looking down just before we crossed. We did acknowledge each other with a wave of the hand. I don't think either of us had the energy to exchange too many pleasantries just at this point in time. I haven't seen Tony since Southport and I wonder if his injury has forced him out or is he still out there slogging it out. It's possible I missed him amongst all the runners. I spot Greg Darlington and he looked tired and a little white, but aren't we all at this stage of a marathon. The Playgirl Bunny heads off for the slog South and Allison and Harry are again by the roadside egging us on over the last few kilometres. She reckoned I was looking OK but looks can be deceiving.

I have realised that I have slowed over the last 3 or 4 kilometres and I have started to check my kilometre times. The last 3 kilometres have taken 5 minute and 5 minute 10 seconds and I still figure I can hold on for a 3 hour 12 minute marathon. Every drink stop sees me have a full cup of water but no orange slices. I would like to start pushing it now but decide to play safe and just plod on. There is only one kilometre to go and I say to myself that it's only 5 more minutes 'til it's all over. There were a few undulations before this point but it's all flat now. I can see the colored tents ahead of me. People are lining the roadway now and clapping the runners as they head to the finishing point.

I distinctly remember on young boy manning the last drink station. He was yelling to all the runners urging them on as he was giving out water. His enthusiasm was extraordinary for one so young. It was if he had experienced running a marathon and knew what it meant to runners to be on the receiving end of such encouragement. He would surely be hoarse before too long if he kept this up. I approach the last bend and Ken Mewha was there to run a few hundred metres with me before the finish and I appreciated that. With the finish line in sight, I put on a bit of a burst and passed a few runners. As I did so, I saw Tony and Glenda in the crowd and immediately felt so sad for Tony. Ken, Tony and I had trained together for months for this event. Ken suffered from injuries a few months before the marathon and could only train enough to do the half marathon. Tony and I had planned to run together for the first 30 kilometres at least and to do our own thing after that. However, of all days to incur an injury, it had to be this day and our joint aim to finish could not be met in full. So sadness went through my mind on one part but happiness too as I crossed the finish line in a personal best time of 3 hours 11 minutes and 33 seconds. Next year we will all be there again.