15 lessons I didn't know I'd learn from running a marathon - Part II

We take up the story, just prior to M-day . . . 

My friend Gary and his wife Sharon were to arrive the day before the big event. So I spent some time making my flat respectable. The dining room table which had been swamped by papers, user manuals, books and electronics, finally emerged. My kitchen and bathroom sparkled and the carpet, relieved of its dusty burden, fluffed up.  

Lesson #6: The road to achieving a goal is paved with unforeseen benefits. 

The night before we synchronised alarms – for 4:30am. I woke up excited. This was the day I’d been waiting for. It seemed surreal. Surely this wasn’t actually going to happen? Could it possibly be that within a few hours . . . . okay within seven to nine hours, I could call myself a marathoner? I ate two pieces of toast and drank some water. We drove towards the city and the parking the event organisers co-ordinated next to the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG). The MCG is a bit like a religious shrine in Melbourne. It makes sense, our collective religion could be mistaken as ‘sport’ and the MCG is our oldest sporting venue. As an aside, it is apparently also the best venue in which to have a heart attack – it has a number of defibrillators. Usually the marathon finishes in the MCG. Last year, due to repairs and an impending sporting event, it was to finish outside. I know some people chose not to run for that reason. Still, the five events had a collective field of over 32,000 people. 

Lesson #7: If you build ‘it’, not everyone will come. That’s okay. You only need to attract enough people to make, whatever ‘it’ is successful by your measure. 

Melbourne is renowned for its variable weather; four seasons in one day is sometimes an exaggeration – we can experience four seasons in an hour. While Melbournians will talk somewhat incessantly about the weather, it doesn’t dictate our activities. If it did, we’d never venture outside. Besides, as the saying goes, “If you don’t like the weather in Melbourne, wait five minutes.” 

The day of the marathon, Melbourne ‘turned it on’ in the way only a city besmirched for having year-round bad weather, can. The sky was blue and cloudless. The temperature began at 11oC and rose to 25oC while we were on the course. There was no discernible breeze; or more correctly, no gale-force ice-cold southerly. 

Lesson #8: The unexpected can often be a good thing. 

And so it came to pass that at 7am on Sunday, October 12th 2014, my buddy Gary and I set out on a marathon. It was my first ever. Gary had only ever done a marathon as part of an ironman event (for the uninitiated this is a 3.8km, 180km bike ride followed by a full marathon). Except Gary had had a foot injury and a time-consuming new job and hadn’t been able to train. So he told me to set my own pace and not worry about staying with him. 

Lesson #9: Real supporters don’t need to hold you back in order to achieve for themselves. 

Melbourne is the sporting capital of Australia for a reason. We love sport. We play it, watch it on television and turn out to cheer on individuals and teams whether we know them or not. So children stood at the roadside, their little hands out for low fives – which we runners gladly gave. They also offered snakes and jellybeans and squirts of water from spray bottles. They cheered and clapped and held signs of encouragement e.g. “The pain is temporary. The pride is forever.” 

Volunteers filled cups of water and Hydrolyte and held them out to us. Others, including a small boy whose rake was taller than he was, collected all the discarded cups. At every turn there were people to usher us in the right direction. 

Lesson #10: On the road to personal victory, linger a while and notice how many people with no vested interest are actively contributing to your success. It is truly humbling. 

I knew it was going to be difficult. I’d psyched myself up for that mental challenge. I had four energy gels in my pockets and my iPod. I was saving my iPod battery for the second half. Just after the halfway mark, I temporarily joined a group of three guys who told me that our pace was 6:30 or one kilometre every six and a half minutes. If we kept that pace, we’d finished in four and a half hours. I knew the likelihood of maintaining that pace was slim, but I hoped that perhaps I could make the finish line in under five hours. They assured me I would. 

As the course wove around the streets of inner Melbourne in what seemed like ceaseless loops and endless inclines, I began to wonder. My calves were screaming. I couldn’t breathe. At one point I thought it might be wisest if I pulled into the next first aid station for some oxygen. I gave this serious thought because I wasn’t getting enough air. But asking for oxygen would mean the end of my marathon. I was 15km away from my goal. But I couldn’t breathe, my legs were so heavy I could barely lift them, I was getting irritated by little things – like cheerful runners with boundless energy who could not only bounce along but sing! Sing!!! I couldn’t breathe and they were chanting Queen’s “We are the Champions”. I wanted to cry. And not just cry. I wanted to collapse on the road, exactly where I was and sob my racing heart out. I didn’t. That all seemed like far too much activity. 

I forced myself to control my breathing. I instructed, nay, commanded my calves to relax. I told myself to suck it up or I’d be doing it all again. After all, this was a bucket list item. It had to be done and if not that day, another in the future. “Just one step,” I told myself. It became my mantra. “Just one more step. Just one more step.” 

Lesson #11: When the going gets tough, far tougher than you’ve ever imagined, instead of pushing, pushing, pushing, relax, breathe and focus on the biggest step you can take with the minimum amount of pain. 

Almost on the home stretch . . .