Gold Coast Half Marathon

Sunday, July 4th, 2009. "I haven't really run, maybe I should ease into it." Scrap that. I ran my first half marathon on realistically no training. In retrospect I would say in the few weeks leading up to the event I was probably doing 30km a week. I would rely purely on heart, and my endurance base developed through swimming.

I had discussed with a few people what times they had done for a half marathon to try and determine what an achievable goal would be. A fairly redundant act as I don't really ever equate realistic in setting my goals. I had a few things to consider when making my goal. I had never raced one before. The only time I had ever done the distance it took me around 2hours. I hadn't trained. And finally my fastest time for 10km (current not dating back to my high school running days) was around 45mins. Working on this knowledge and knowing 4min km's would give me a time of 1hour 26mins, I decided an achievable goal would be 1 hour 30mins, 4:15 kms.

Its funny, everything I had just discussed, my running history etc didn't matter. 1.30 was the magical time I had conjured up as it was close to 4min km's, a round number. Lets base my goals on a round number, very scientific. No the major underlying factor in all of this was 1) 1.30 was a solid time and very hard and 2) most importantly it beat the times of everyone I had spoken to. I hate losing.

Race day was nothing like I expected. The amount of people made all my swimming events look like Sunday BBQ in my backyard. I bought myself some running shorts and a running singlet the day before, trying to look professional. Also borrowed a watch from my training partner so I could have some idea how fast I was going. Preparation here was obviously the key.

The first 300m we walked. For anyone who has done a big running event you will know what I mean. 10 000 people packed onto a little street doesn't give you much moving room. This was it. Despite my blasé description about my preparation for the event, now I was committed to excellence. I was going to impress so many people with this run and do what they never thought I could.

I did everything and any for the first few Km's to get free space and keep moving. I knew the key to a good race for me was a constant pace start to finish, building at the end. I was amazed at the amount of different people doing the race, and how they got in front of me. Passing a couple wheezing at the 2km mark made me realise in future I really need to get there really to get a good starting position.

It wasn't long until I had advanced into runners more of my calibre. I had found my rhythm but more importantly found my love for running again. I gave up running all together when I left school in pursuit of swimming, but mostly because I didn't like it anymore. Swimming dominated my life and any other sports really just seemed pointless. 7km into the half marathon I realised why I use to love running. The speed, passing numerous competitors was a far greater thrill than swimming in your own lane racing just 8 people. Just before the turn around point I past at least 30 people in a pack. 30 people, just like that, it was exhilarating, and I started to build on this. The pack just happened to include the 4:15min Km pace runner. I was on target.

My mind was racing with excitement. It’s odd what I was thinking about, more how impressed people would be with my run, more of an "I'll show you attitude" than a focused one on my technique and controlling the race. But really that is what I have always raced on. Not losing and anger - I'll show you. I started shouting in my head, quickening the pace, I was really starting to get into a fast paced rhythm I knew my second half was on track to be phenomenal compared to the first.

I flew past a competitor only to have him sprint back up to me, "Mate how fast are you going? Either your going fast or I'm going slow," I looked at my watch and did a quick calculation. "3.45min Km's your not going slow," I said with a smile, I'm going f***ing fast I said in my head. There was no pain, nothing, not a struggle. This is what all the swimmers I ever raced in my career must have been talking about, that easy hard pace. Man it felt good. I was on target for around a 1.22 run. Even I couldn't believe it.

At 2km to go, things turned. Incredible pains shot through my hips, the man I had past who asked if he was going slow, came past me and pat me on the back. "Keep going mate, nearly there!" Are you kidding me? I sprinted forth only to nearly collapse, not preparing for this event would really cost me in the last stages of the race I could see now.

It seemed like forever, I think I dropped to over 5min Kms, and lost a lot of time. There was nothing I could do, but limp and try to ensure I didn't do any damage. I never walked, I refuse to ever walk in a running race, but my running was probably at times slower than a walk. I limped across the line, annoyed and in agony. 1.27.44, better than my goal and nearly even under 4min Km's pace. This would do I thought.

Besides the ending, every part of the race was exhilarating. I vowed never to compete with such a blasé attitude again. If I was going to do this, I would do it properly.

Maybe I should be a marathon runner instead. I like this.