It is 6.30am, Sunday 12th July, the temperature is about 8 degrees and blue skies abounded overhead. It was perfect conditions to run a Marathon. The Hervey Bay families gathered here were the Clonans, Roberts, Mewhas and Normans. Tony Roberts and I went for a short warm up run, returned to the group and wished each other well for their respective runs. Tony and I were running the full Marathon while Roz, Annette, Ken and Dave were running the Half Marathon. We made our way to the starting line, there were runners everywhere and officials were trying to get them to assemble quickly behind the tape. We managed to squeeze in about twenty metres behind the start line. About 1750 competitors would attempt the 42.2 kilometre journey. Herb Elliott was the Celebrity starter. The event began a few minutes late, but we were finally away.
It was a slow start, taking several seconds to cross the starting line. This year, the organisers decided to divide the field into time zones. Entrants were required to position themselves into zones of their expected finish time. The faster runners should be ahead of the slower ones. To a certain degree, this was a failure as a lot of the runners were not in their correct time zones. I was held up for several hundred metres and had to zig zag my way around a lot of slow Japanese female runners. I knew my first kilometre time would be slow and I had to resist the temptation to surge as this would burn up too much energy early. I was hoping to run this Marathon in under three hours and to do this, I would have to average 4 minutes 16 seconds per kilometre. My first kilometre was run in 4 minutes 24 seconds which meant I would have to make up the difference over the next two or three kilometres.
A few months ago, a group of Ambulance staff had run through Hervey Bay as part of a trip from North Queensland to Brisbane, to raise money for the Paralympians. Tony and I had joined them out the road and run the 10 kilometres into Hervey Bay with them. I had already sighted three of them up to this stage and I ran with one of them for the next 25 kilometres. Once again, this year, there were lots and lots of spectators lining the kerb as we ran North to Runaway Bay. They were already clapping everyone and offering encouragement, yet there was still 40 kilometres to go.
I had a plastic sauce bottle containing my special drink of "Exceed, " at four drink stations, 10, 20, 30 and 35 kilometres. I could see the 10 kilometre drink station table on the opposite side of the road now and made a point of trying to spot mine, even though I would not be at this point for another 8 kilometres, on the return journey. I could see my bottle clearly as I had a thin piece of dowl (wood) attached to the bottle with a blue cardboard circle taped to the top of it. I didn't want to waste seconds looking for it when I got to the drink station. There were lots of different identification designs, some runners really did use their imagination. Mine was the tallest there, so at least my efforts to easily identify my drink were successful.
A female runner, Lyn Stern, was up ahead of me and her number was 69. Of course, this prompted some suggestive remarks from the male runners. Lyn took it all in her stride and laughed off all the jibes. She sure had a skimpy outfit on, a one piece running outfit but with plenty of skin exposed. This was not a time for distractions if I wanted to break three hours.
There was the usual talk going on between runners. Some were friends running together, others were looking for running partners who were, like me, trying to better three hours. I tried to run the tangents but this was virtually an impossibility just now due to the large number of runners around me. The water at the 5 kilometre drink stop was terrible and I did not have much for fear of having a stomach upset. A female runner with a Walkman had fallen near the drink table, perhaps she had been tripped by a fellow runner in the scramble to get a drink. She got up and continued on, seemingly unphased by the incident.
Coming back along Marine Parade, I was running between two little Japanese guys. It's a little distracting running with them as they tend to continually alter their pace. One minute they were ahead of me, then they fell behind me. A few minutes later they went past me again. At 10 kilometres, the Marshall was calling out the time that had elapsed so far. He gave my time as 41 minutes 26 seconds, yet my clock said 41 minutes 33 seconds, a seven second difference. Two other runners commented on the discrepancy also. I got my "special" drink OK and drank three quarters of it over the next kilometre or so. The half marathoners were coming the other way now and the leaders were absolutely flying.
The start/finish line was approaching, but ahead of that was a slight rise for a few hundred metres. There were thousands of spectators in this area. Ray Scarlett, from Hervey Bay, yelled encouragement to me from the crowd. As I was starting the run up over the Southport bridge, there was a half marathoner running, but pushing his young son in a pram. He was moving quite fast too, and I thought to myself that this was such a gutsy effort. At the next drink stop I had water and also poured some over my head. As I turned towards Main Beach, a slight head wind confronted us but it did not bother me.
My time for 15 kilometres was 1 hour 2 minutes which equates to 4 minutes 8 seconds per kilometre and that put a smile on my face. I was just ahead of schedule, feeling very strong and nothing was bothering me. Every so often I would say to myself: "Form Form Form." I had practised this recently in my training runs and it seemed to work in that it put me back on track when I felt my pace was slowing a little. It also helped me to focus mentally.
I had felt so good up to this point, but now I felt a stitch coming on. It was not real bad, but enough to make me press on the spot to try and make it go away. That seemed to help. It did come back at various times but each time I pressed on it again and it abated. Perhaps it was the drink of Exceed, it might have been a bit strong as it also tended to make me burp a little.
There were lots of spectators as we ran through Surfers Paradise. The Japanese were there again with their large banners like last year, only this time I was not (nearly) hit by one. Some good tangent running was possible here and also for the next three kilometres. At 20 kilometres I got my next drink of Exceed. More burping resulted and after offering some of the drink to other runners, I tossed the bottle away.
My 21.1 kilometre time was 1 hour 27 minutes and I was still on target for a sub three hour run. The wheelchair marathoners were heading back to the finish area now, they can really move those chairs. A tall skinny guy ran past me, he had "France" written on the back of his singlet. He said he had been in Australia for two years. He was running with his mate but his mate was starting to drop back a little. He called him forward, the mate nodded but he could not execute his friends wish. This went on for several minutes and it was quite funny in the end as the friend that was in front kept urging his mate forward without looking behind him to see where he was. And of course, his mate was well and truly behind him and he would not have been anywhere near close enough to hear what his friend was saying. He was going to have to do it all by himself from now on.
It was a long run down the narrow Old Burleigh Road from Broadbeach to Nobby's Beach. It seemed to take forever (like every year) to get there but my spirits rose somewhat when I hit the Gold Coast Highway. More water at 25 kilometres, still feeling pretty good, but I also had to concentrate more now. The Ambulance runner had fallen back now, he eventually finished in about 3 hours 15 minutes. My two Aunties and Uncles were up ahead of me, Mary and Fred Wickham and Delia and Claude Sanford. It was a buzz seeing them and I yelled out that Roz and I would see them next morning for a chat.
The turnaround marker was again a drum in the middle of the road, as it was last year. I found myself running a larger arc getting around it. It was too much of an effort to just pivot around it and take off again. It can be tough at this point of the run and I felt it now. I knew I only had one direction to go back to finish the event-North, but my whole body began to ache more and I began to feel a little tired. The words "Form Form Form" resurrected in my mind. Brian Evans from Maryborough, was only 400 metres behind me, he was running one hell of a race. Joan Darlington wasn't far behind Brian and she looked rather strong. I never saw Bruce Bate or Alison Coleman, except at the 5.5 kilometre mark.
I ran back on to the Gold Coast Highway again and Tony Roberts was heading South. He looked good, much better than at the same stage last year. I said I was feeling good, perhaps I told a little white lie there. But all things considered, I guess I did feel a sense of goodness despite everything. I didn't mind the run South this year, perhaps it was because I felt better for longer this year compared to last year. There were a few small inclines from here on and I had to concentrate so I did not lose pace when I came across them as, feeling as I did, it would be quite easy to simply maintain any drop off in pace. I kept mainly to the centre of the road, this was the flattest part of the road for the next 4 kilometres.
My time at 30 kilometres was 2 hours 4 minutes 30 seconds, similar to last year. I now had 12.2 kilometres to run and just over 55 minutes to do it in. I had another drink of Exceed and a poured a cup of water over my head as well. I passed Lyn Stern here. I would have to monitor my kilometre times closely from here on to make sure I was on track for that sub three hour run. While it is obviously very much a physical thing from now on, it was also very much a mental thing. The mind has to be in control and if it is not, then the physical side of you can quickly fall apart. I could not afford to do worse than 4 minutes 30 seconds per kilometre. I wanted to try for between 4 minutes 15 seconds and 4 minutes 20 seconds per kilometre for awhile so that I could afford a drop off in the last few kilometres, if it did in fact, come down to that.
At 32 kilometres, I was starting to really hurt. I had 47 minutes to do 10.2 kilometres. A spectator at the roundabout at Broadbeach urged me to fight on for a sub three hour time. That person must have done his sums too. I was now telling myself what I had been telling other runners, i.e. it's not pain as such, it's just lots of discomfort. Form Form Form, I kept saying to myself as I passed the 35 kilometre sign not far from Surfers Paradise. My last special drink of Exceed was just up ahead. I did not feel like drinking it, but I firmly believed it would help, so I managed to drink about half of it. I also grabbed a cup of water and poured it over my head. The head is where the heat escapes so I wanted to keep that part cool.
I was passing heaps of runners at this point. Many were obviously "hitting the wall" and for them it was going to be a case of having to "Guts" it out from here on. Spectators still lined the side of the road, I could see them there peripherally but not looking at them like I did an hour ago when I was feeling much better. For me now, it was a case of one foot in front of the other. The various food smells at Surfers Paradise made me feel kind of nauseous and I couldn't wait to get out of that area. I was still checking my watch every kilometre. Some kilometres were under 4 minutes 20 seconds some were just over, it was getting harder to do my arithmetic, the mind was not at its peak that's for sure. And when I found a kilometre time slow, I really had to force myself to pick up the pace again.
The "mind game" was really on now. My hips and quadriceps were hurting bad but I won't feel that once I cross the finish line, so I was just thinking of that time. There was, after all, only 5.2 kilometres to go and twenty five minutes to get there. Surely I could put up with anything for that relatively short period of time. This was my best chance of all the Marathons I had competed in, to achieve that elusive sub three hour time. Was I going to waste all those hours of training, of training before and after work, the aches and pains from injuries endured now and then over the last six years, the pretty comprehensive "carbohydrate depletion and loading" program I had adhered to over the last seven days. Was I going to suffer the disappointment of missing my dream by a miserly few seconds? Not on your life, I said to myself.
The sign at 38 kilometres was music to my ears, now I wanted to see the 39 kilometre sign. I was beginning to build up my confidence a little, I was thinking of the crowd at the finish area who would be clapping and urging me on to beat that clock. I imagined the Mewhas', the Roberts', the Normans' and my partner, Roz, shouting at me with only metres to go. I didn't want to let them down as we had all supported each other over the years. At 40 kilometres, I looked over across the water and I could see all the tents and the large crowd at the finish zone. Form Form Form-I really needed this now, the mission has not yet been completed. Lyn Stern (the 69 lady) passed me at the 40 kilometre drink stop. While she was ahead of me, I decided I would not let her get more than about 30 metres in front of me from now til the finish line. As I turned on to the Southport Bridge and 1.6 kilometres to go, I started smiling to myself. I could sense something wonderful ahead. Ken Mewha was at the apex of the bridge. I think he was as excited as I was right now. I said to him, "I've got it, I've got it this time." And Ken replied that my rythem was good, better than last year. Who gives a rats how my rythem was right now, the fact is, I was going to get there in sub three hours no matter how my rythem looked.
The run up the bridge was full of concentration. Ken asked how much time had elapsed. After two attempts to clearly see my watch, I said that 2 hours 52 minutes and 26 seconds had passed. Ken stayed with me for a few hundred metres until the crowd started congregating then he left me to enjoy the run to the line. It was a nice feeling even though just about everything was hurting at this point. The crowd was magic and Roz and all my friends were screaming encouragement to me. Further along I heard Greg Darlington and Rod Sheppard's voices. What a feeling it was as I turned off the main road and ran on down towards the finish chute to record a personal best time of 2 hours 58 minutes 37 seconds, for an average kilometre time of 4 minutes 14 seconds.
