Canberra MaraFail- Lessons Learned

You get out what you put in. Time to stop taking the piss.

What Happened?

Shit day yesterday; it happens. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened, why it happened, what I should’ve done differently, yada fuckin’ yada.

I’ve been racking my brain about what happened ever since, doing 100 miles an hour up there, trying to pull the race apart and see where I went wrong. I think I know, but for myself,m I need to write about it, pull all the information circling around and put it in its place to give me some peace of mind.

I DNF’d a sanctioned event for the first time ever. Maybe you’re not a real runner until you’ve done that. I felt perfectly fine until I didn’t, which happens to runners often.

When I got to around the 28k mark, I started to feel weak in the legs and, for the first time ever, started worrying that I might not have the legs to finish the race. I was a little shocked. My heart rate was good. My lungs felt good. But my legs, my legs were struggling.

I started to strategies in my head. How many gels did I have left? How much could I increase the frequency with which I took them? What if I walked for a kilometre or so to rest my legs and then ran the rest?

I kept running until I hit the 29k mark. I walked for a little, then ran again. Then I decided to walk for a minute and run for four. I did this once. The second time I could only manage to run for two minutes. I thought if I made it to the next aid station, I could smash some water and electrolytes, and maybe that would help me.

I started running again, but it was hopeless, and I knew it. My legs were cooked. I had nerve pain from my lower back all the way down to my heels. I ended up giving up at 31.66k. I could have persisted, I could have walked the rest, maybe I could have walked for a while, then started again, but I summed things up and decided it wasn’t worth it.

By this point, it was pouring rain. I was cold and sore, and while that’s never stopped me before, the nerve pain, coupled with the recency of my back issues, made me think the best thing to do was call it a day.

If this marathon were my main goal, I would’ve done whatever I had to to get it done. But it isn’t the main goal. the main goal is completing the Sri Chinmoy Canberra Trail 100. A 100k trail run in September this year. Once I took all of that into account, the decision was easy.

I had no reason to keep going. I’ve run plenty of marathons before. I’ve run hundreds of kilometres in the rain before. If the other run in September is my main goal, why would I continue and risk injuring myself or getting sick in the rain?

Whilst I was super disappointed and somewhat embarrassed not to finish, I am comfortable with my decision. I feel like I let my mate Brett down too, but he powered home to finish his first marathon in 4 hours and 17 minutes. Real fuckin’ proud of him.

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What Really Happened

I could list a bunch of excuses here. I had gastro a week ago, which would have impacted my energy levels. I had a busy week leading into the race, and although usually, I would be tapering somewhat, I should have run a little bit… I didn’t run at all.

Instead of travelling the two hours the day before and staying at my parent’s house, I stayed home, got up at 3 am after only five hours of sleep and drove up to Canberra. I didn’t drink enough water the day before, I wasn’t even trying to. Usually, the day before a big run, I make an extra effort to ensure I drink plenty of water. I wasn’t overly hungry on Saturday and didn’t load up on Saturday night like usual.

Some of the above might sound like feasible reasons why I struggled yesterday, but I’m unwilling to accept them. The facts are, I didn’t take it seriously enough. I didn’t respect the distance. I was arrogant and overconfident and ultimately got what I deserved.

I ran a decent half marathon three weeks ago and naively thought that if I slowed down to a comfortable pace, I could easily poke around and get the job done. The reality is I just haven’t been doing enough Ks.

The last time I ran 30k or more was on the 21st of January, almost three months ago.

Sure, I’ve had setbacks since then, but recently I’ve run for two hours at a time semi-regularly. I could easily have turned these runs into three or three-and-a-half-hour runs, but I chose not to. Even last week, although I was a little bit busy, I had opportunities to run in the afternoon and chose not to.

A mixture of arrogance and laziness on my part caused me to fail.

I’m not disappointed in the run. Objectively, this was a good training run for my planned run in September. My heart rate/pace ratio was pretty good, given how little I’ve been running lately. There are some positives I can take away from it.

The thing that disappoints me the most was my attitude towards it. I tried to do it the easy way. On countless occasions, I talked myself out of tacking an extra hour onto my two-hour long run. I talked myself out of going for an extra run here and there after work. I just didn’t want it bad enough, and I think my decision to pull out of yesterday’s race supports that.

Ultimately, I tried to do it the easy way. What I learned is there is no fucking easy way. Whether you’re running zone 2 or pushing for a PB. Whether you’re an experienced ultra-runner or a novice, there is no such fucking thing as an easy marathon, and the moment you think that there is, is probably the moment that you fail, long before the race even starts.

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The Lesson

I think it’s pretty obvious from the above. You get out what you put in. If you want to do this shit, you have to fucking want to do it. Doing hard things is fucking hard. There isn’t an easy way to do hard things. There are no shortcuts.

I think yesterday gave me the kick up the arse I needed. I’ve been trying to find an easier way to run these longer distances. I’ve run these distances before, and each time, I was able to because I put in the fucking work. I’ve done it while work was busy. I’ve done it while life has been busy. I found time. I prioritised it because I wanted it.

In a way, I’m glad this has happened, particularly when it happened. In fact, the timing is perfect. As we head into winter, there’s less chance for me to say it’s too hot to run. This embarrassing failure has lit a bit of a fire under me, and I’m determined to prove I’m not an arrogant wanker who thinks he can just lob up and do whatever, whenever.

People have donated money on my behalf for me to run this 100k in September, and I feel like, in a way I let them down yesterday. I wouldn’t blame people for thinking, “Why did I donate money to this bloke? He’s full of shit”. I feel like I owe it to them and all the people that Beyond Blue helped to pull my fucking finger out, stop talking shit and just do the fucking work.

I know where I’m at now. I know what needs to be done. It’s time to shut up and get to work.

Cheers Wankers.

X.

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Bogues Tonnes Up

AFLETE!

Each week I will chuck a bit about my journey to my first 100k run at the Sri Chinmoy Canberra Trail 100k for anyone who gives a shit.

I am running the 100k for a few reasons. Mostly because I always wanted to. Mostly though, I want to raise as much money as I can for Beyond Blue. An amazing charity that does brilliant work in the mental health space.

If you want to help out and help keep me accountable for this fucking ridiculous goal, CLICK HERE to make a 100% tax-deductible donation.

Every cent counts, and you’ll be comfortable knowing it’s going to a reputable organisation who do amazing work.

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