Irongirl's Ultimate Marathon Race Plan

In just over a fortnight St Pete and I will be toeing the start line of the Blackmore's Sydney Marathon.

Three months ago it seemed like a great idea.  Today it seems like one of the stupidest things I've ever cooked up for myself.

Like a good Irongirl, though, I have a plan.

A race plan.

And it goes something like this:

Start -2hrs
Get up, eat some mashed banana on toast and a cup of tea.
Try not to throw up said toast, banana and tea.
Check emails, facebook, twitter, and generally cruise the internet, trying to avoid thinking about the next 8 hours and instead thinking calm blue oceans and sunny skies.
Pin St Pete's race number on his top - adjust it 50 times until it is "just right".
Try not to stab him with a safety pin.

Start -1hr
Go to the bathroom.
Walk around the lounge.
Go to the bathroom again.
Put running shoes on, quadruple-check everything in the gear bags.
Make sure every possible contingency is covered - rain, blizzard, gale-force winds, heatwave.
Toss 90% of what was in the gear bags back on the bed after realising it's a calm sunny day outside and the start line is 50m from our front door.
Check for the 15th time that St Pete has the front door keys.
Leave the house and head to the start line.
Head back to the house and pick up the forgotten sunglasses.
Check for the 16th time that St Pete has the front door keys.
Leave the house and head to the start line.

Start -30min
Join the portapotty queues.

Start -5min
Make it out of the portapotty just in time to get to the start line and give St Pete a big hug and kiss good luck.

Start Gun
Watch St Pete disappear into the crowd.

0-1km
Try to ignore the 3/4 of the field going past me while I settle into a warm up pace.  Resist the temptation to yell at everyone "this is a marathon, guys, you're going out too fast!" because they are already settling into their own slow pace.
Start climbing towards the harbour bridge.

1-5km
Embrace the suck.
DO NOT think about the 35km still left to go.
Instead, know that my heart rate will be stupidly high and I will feel like a big bag of cement.
Might have something to do with "summiting" the harbour bridge...make mental note to find more running events that start with a downhill rather than uphill.

5-10km
Finally get into a rhythm.
Heart will have stopped trying to escape from my chest and will have settled into a more civilised 140-150bpm.
Legs now feeling like they can plod along at a reasonably sedate pace for the duration.
Get some nutrition in - embrace the aid stations and maintain a civilised walk through each one.
Make mental note to suggest to the race organisers that they install an escalator on the "short sharp steep section" past the Art Gallery carpark.
Try not to swear walk up said short sharp steep section.
Channel the Little Engine That Could and make it up the short sharp steep section.
Enjoy the scenery out by the botanic gardens and then into Hyde Park before the long climb out of the CBD towards Centennial Park.

10-20km
Focus on steady pace, walking the aid stations and taking in nutrition at each one.
Enjoy the feeling of being a "runner" - it won't last much longer.
Watch out for the horses in Centennial Park.
Watch the horses in Centennial Park.  They will provide a welcome distraction.

21km
Silently celebrate the halfway mark.
Know that while it's not all downhill from here, it is homeward and that must be worth at least a 5% decline for the brain.
Check the time and immediately double it with the delusional idea that you will do, at worst, an even split or, even better, a negative split.
Double the time and add an hour to calculate the more likely scenario.
Forget the time.

22-30km
Embrace the suck.
Focus only on getting to the next aid station.
Walk the aid station and take in some nutrition.
Become aware of every joint, ligament, tendon, muscle and bone from the waist down.
Block out the awareness knowing that thinking about it will only end badly.

30-35km
Embrace the suck.
Say hello to the enormous red brick wall looming ahead.
Run into it.
Keep running.

35-40km
It's all downhill from here!  Well actually it's flat, but that's as good as downhill when you can almost smell the finish line.
Enjoy the crowds who are still hanging out along the sidelines, including all the marathoners who finished ages ago and are now wandering around in a leisurely fashion with their medals around their necks.
Resist the urge to snatch a medal off those smug good-for-nothing natural-born athletes just to save having to run the final 4km.

40km - FINISH
Savour the feeling of all pain and discomfort leaving the body as you see the finish chute.
Run across the line with a huge smile and trying not to look like a Womble - that finish line photo needs to be a good one.
Remember to press the stop button on the Garmin - who needs official results when you've got www.garminconnect.com
Hold back the expletives when you realise you forgot to start the Garmin.
Luckily there's official results.
Find St Pete and compare notes, while sitting in the Botanic Gardens nursing aching feet and toes, enjoying the spring sunshine and knowing that it's been a great day out.

Finish +2hours
Maccas - Grand Angus Burger, Large Fries, Hot Apple Pie.
Lovin' it!


DISCLAIMER:  All events described in this blog post may or may not bear any relation to actual or real events.  As always, life is not to be taken so seriously and so copious pinches of salt should be taken in conjunction with a healthy dose of humour. This blog has been written for your entertainment. Enjoy :)