3 Countries Marathon Race Report

It has been just under 4 years since I first attempted a sub 3 marathon. That hot day in Abu Dhabi back in 2021 was the catalyst for change. The race I didn’t know I needed. The perceived failure I had for blowing up before half way, and coming through in a 3:19, sat with me for a long time. It hurt. 

Since then, there have been many races. Some of them marathons, some of them shorter and the odd one longer. There have been injuries, set backs, sickness, highs, breakthroughs, and a lot of work in and out of my running shoes. I have chased PBs, sometimes succeeding and sometimes missing. I have learnt to understand that is racing. 

Over the years, my marathon PB has dropped down to a 3:03, a time that I am proud of. Following my Two Oceans training block from January - April earlier this year, (where I took a break from chasing paces and times), I felt ready to go again. I wanted to target a sub 3 Marathon.

This of course meant training through the summer for an October race. Which if you have ever been to Dubai, will know it’s a touch warm. I knew it was going to be a challenge, but I was a combination of stubborn and determined to make it work. The caveat being that I was not willing to sacrifice my health to make it happen. 

Marathon training can be all-encompassing. I love the focus, discipline, and structure that a training block brings, but I have also been through enough to know that they can be isolating, rigid and relentless if not managed correctly. And not wanting the latter, I ensured to check in with myself each week regarding how I was feeling mentally and physically from training and life stresses. Which of course resulted in some easier training weeks, to allow my body and mind to recover and rest when required. 

That said, there were some big marathon sessions that I managed to tick off on the treadmill, providing huge mental prep for the race. Come race week, I had confidence that I could click along at a 4:15 pace to dip in just under 3 hours. 

On race morning, I was well rested and fuelled; having eaten and slept plenty since arriving in Austria a few days before the race. The air was cold and fresh, a lovely treat for us Dubai lot! I met with the IFE crew; we ran through our race warm-up together and topped up on carbs before parting ways to get in our start pens.

The race was not overly crowded, and I was only a couple of rows back from the elites at the front. I felt calm and collected, and upon reflection perhaps a bit too chilled for the start of a race. All of a sudden I heard 3,2,1 in German and a gun; we were off. There was no pushing or shoving, just a mass of people running in synch. 

I had prepared myself for a relatively lonely marathon, knowing that it was a quiet city and not a huge event. But those first few KMs were pleasantly busy. I accidentally got myself sandwiched amongst the 3 hour pacer and a bunch of runners. It felt nice, running with a small pod. But I looked down and noticed the pace was slightly faster than I had planned to start out. I made the decision to drop back, run my own race, and say goodbye to the company. And that was that, from about 4km, it was me and road. My goal starting pace of 4:20 had been hindered slightly, coming in at 4:16, but I figured I would just hold now as opposed to building in pace for that negative split. 

If you have ever run with me, you might know I am light on my feet. My power is still loading it seems! I could not hear my footsteps, but I could hear my breath. It was not relaxed. I reminded myself that was ok, races are stressful, there is adrenaline, and that it will come right. Looking at my watch, I kept an eye on the time to ensure that I did not miss any fuelling. In doing so, I also kept looking at my pace. And kept asking myself if my RPE matched the numbers I saw. I did not like my answer. I felt like I was running harder than 4:15 from both my legs and my lungs. My stubborn and determined mind kept on though. I was not willing to tell myself that I could not do this. I was going to try and I wanted to come right.  My pace dropped slightly to 4:20, which I also thought in the moment was fine, as I would pick things back up in the second half. 

Then it came, the half way point, I saw the clock… 1:31, the same time that I went through halfway in Munich in last year. There was a big difference though. In Munich this energised me. I was holding back. This time around I was not holding back. My legs were fatigued and my breathing was getting more panicked about it. I realised I didn’t have a plan B; I had to adapt on the fly. 

My goal became getting to 25km, where my parents planned to be. They had said they would be somewhere between 25 and 26. Once I got to 25, I knew it was going to be 26… it was. They had gotten the train there (to Switzerland) for this part of the race. There they were shouting and waving at me, of course I could see them up ahead. I grabbed a water and much to their surprise I stopped on the side of the road with them. My legs felt flat and heavy, and I had lost my pace. I told them I didn’t know what to do. My Dad pulled a gel out of this pocket and offered it to me. He did not entertain the idea of me standing there there or stopping at 26km. Instead he walked with me and told me to just think, take my time, re-assess, and make a new plan. 

The walk slowed everything down; my mind, my breath, my time… I scanned my body, and despite the fatigue, I realised mechanically nothing was wrong. I did not say goodbye or look back over my shoulder, I just started running again. Once that happened, there was only one way to the finish, to run. 

At 31km I flicked my watch off the data screens; therefore, it was no longer providing me with negative feedback on my time or pace. I thought of those from InnerFight in Meydan running a 10km that morning in Dubai. A race I have done countless times. I realised I was approx 10km from the end; I could run 10km. To be completely honest, I don’t remember a lot of it. I continued to fuel to prevent bonking, I took on water when I could, and I even stopped to fill up my bottle. 

My time was now completely irrelevant. I just wanted to keep going. To not quit. The last few KMs I ran into the Half Marathon race, where the courses combined. That jolted me right in to the present, as I needed to suddenly negotiate running around others. I even occasionally opted for the gravel path just to have some space. I don’t remember seeing KM markers by this point, but I knew I was edging closer to the finish, as I could see the stadium on the horizon. Lastly, I tried to not be totally Bambi as I weaved through the last twists and turns off the lake, onto the road, and into the stadium. 

The feeling of a track under foot after running 42km on a road, is SO good. The spring in my step was back. 200m around the bend and straight to the finish… 10 minutes over my goal time. 

I have no regrets. I was ready to dust off the cobwebs from 2021 and look to hold that pace again, which I see as a huge win. I am proud that I was in a position to try. And I know one day, I will indeed…try again.