Monday, 13th May
Less sleep than previous nights after making the mistake of staying up for another F1 bore fest at the Spanish GP. As big a fan as I’ve been for decades, at this rate I’ll struggle to justify watching the remaining races live this season into the early hours of a Monday morning.
I circulated Dendy Park for a few tours, struggling to get out of first gear but in no hurry to push myself with all the hard work behind me.
AM
13.05 km – 1:00:12 @ 4:37/km
Tuesday, 14th May
I felt quite tired following work so I got straight into it, and with the quads lethargic as they’ve been for a few days, I was again content to coast along and tick the legs over.
PM
12.80 km – 1:00:03 @ 4:41/km
Wednesday, 15th May
There was a slight jump in pace to ensure I don’t become too accustomed to life in the slow lane, but it wasn’t anything onerous at any point.
It’s definitely becoming difficult to roll out with little on the cards, at this stage, I just want Sunday to arrive!
AM
13.55 km – 1:00:02 @ 4:26/km
Thursday, 16th May
Nothing to see today as I wound down the time on feet for a very processional fifty minutes.
Pleasingly, my quads aren’t feeling any lethargy after a few days of sluggishness, so they’re coming good at the right time.
AM
11.03 km – 50:19 @ 4:34/km
Friday, 17th May
It was a struggle to roll out of bed in some very fresh conditions.
As a result, it was difficult to find a rhythm between going fast to keep warm and the heart rate struggling to rise.
Despite that, I got into gear for some thirty second strides around 2:50 pace that felt tougher than they would have been otherwise.
The chill aside, I won’t complain if these conditions are on hand Sunday!
I pre-prepared a bolognese sauce for tomorrow evening to conclude the carb loading, whilst not holding back on the snacks through the day.
AM
9.35 km – 40:02 @ 4:17/km
Saturday, 18th May
I maximised time in bed ahead of tomorrow’s early rise, aided by chilling conditions similar to yesterday – “feels like 3 degrees” was all the incentive I needed!
Unlike yesterday however, I was able to feel in the groove much quicker, so when it came to another block of thirty second strides – this time just the four, I felt sharp.
The pace was closer to 2:40, and I’m definitely feeling the leg turnover is much more fluid than it was a few days ago.
Should conditions replicate itself tomorrow, there’ll be cause for genuine confidence!
I spent the afternoon whipping up banana bread as part of the carb loading, prior to settling in for Collingwood vs St Kilda over nachos doused in cheese.
Once again, the Pies were sloppy and under siege in defence. They managed to see off the Saints’ advances in the final term to make the result look like a blowout, when the reality is that there’s much improvement in store. Missing several players has to be accounted for, making it even more difficult to gauge what their ceiling is.
In addition to the generous serving of spaghetti bolognese, I chucked in a stick of garlic bread, which I proceeded to devour in its entirety. Fair to say I was bursting at the seams following this! I couldn’t have done any more to prepare in this regard.
I spent the rest of the evening taking stock of the surprise election outcome before turning in just after 9, lights out around an hour later, with the alarm set for 3:45.
AM
6.90 km – 30:03 @ 4:21/km
Sunday, 19th May
There were no struggles in adhering to the first alarm, and I was in a relaxed state of mind.
A coffee (my first in almost a fortnight – having trialled caffeine abstinence in the lead in to the race for a heightened effect) and peanut butter on toast, got the bowel moving as intended.
Mark Berry, who kindly offered to escort Dion and I to Lorne, arrived at 4:40, and once Dion surfaced minutes later, we hit the road.
Considerable fog once we reached the other side of Melbourne made for an interesting journey, though we were making good time as discussion centred on anything but the task at hand.
We arrived at Lorne almost exactly two hours after departing, some 70 minutes ahead of the start, allowing plenty of time to shake out the legs.
Another toilet stop and a ten minute warm up comprising of two 30 second strides had me switched on and in a very calm mindset.
I made my way to the start line, and after keeping an eye out for any familiar faces with some brief chatter, Dion and I wished each other well as we awaited the go ahead.
The immediate countdown was as relaxed as I’ve ever felt, and in many ways this manifested in my ultimate result.
A quick wave to Mark for the camera once we rounded the top of the ramp before he made his way inland to reach Apollo Bay (along with fulfilling other duties!), and it was underway.
I settled into an early third place with several others for company, and with five previous visits here, I wasn’t too concerned with protecting this position so early.
Thus, I was unconcerned when I fell to sixth within a kilometre despite maintaining pace at 3:34, as I kept those ahead in immediate sight.
Regardless, it did seem to take a while for me to find a rhythm – reflected in my heart rate, which took until the sixth kilometre to reach 160 bpm, and it was no coincidence that this was when I first felt truly comfortable.
I was soon fifth, and after a few kms biding my time riding out some of the early climbs – the eighth in particular, at 44 metres elevation (spiking my HR beyond 170, where it would remain for the balance of the morning), I eased into fourth.
By this point, third place had edged quite clear, 200 metres at minimum, so I was uncertain what my chances of reeling this gap in were. Which is what made it very satisfying.
I was also dealing with mild stomach cramping, so I had a bit of a balancing act to consider for a while. Pleasingly, this subsided around the ten mile mark and largely didn’t return other than a few fleeting moments late in the piece.
The constant rolling nature of the course made it difficult to grasp how much inroads I was making, but surely and steadily, I grew noticeably closer.
Consistent pace between the fifteenth and twenty second km, entering the back half of the race – ranging from 3:30 to 3:35, not that I was counting at the time, only taking a referential glance every fifth km, meant I was probably now within 50 metres of third.
What surprised me most was how much ground I gained on the descents, with dual drops around 40 metres at 25 and 28 km both registering 3:21, by which stage I was almost ready to make my move.
Following up with a 3:22 provided me with the impetus to strike, and if anything, I gained a second wind as I reclaimed the position.
My pace never reached those levels again whilst remaining steady, and everything was going swimmingly until the 37th km, when I seemed to hit a wall – also quite literally, as a headwind which wasn’t on the reservation made itself known.
It was also around this stage that I encountered the greater portion of half marathoners, and in equal measure between invaluable moral support from their cheers, and weaving around and between them, I was expending precious energy in the process.
I’d go so far to say that the final 8.5 km felt as long as the first 36. Everything really slowed from this point, and so it was by the 40th km that I dropped below 4:00 pace for the first time.
It was at this point that I became certain that I’d find myself falling down the field, yet I resisted the urge to take a glance behind and allow fate to run its’ course.
What felt like 5:00 kilometres amounted to 4:14 at its slowest, unlike previous years where I’d basically fallen off the map at this stage, so I had that going for me.
Soon after, I passed the marathon distance checkpoint to the sight of 2:34, and whilst the reading was short and my official time was a 2:35, it still represented a five minute PB and a ten minute course PB.
That was one obstacle down, but the familiar dread of needing to negotiate the final two kilometres was palpable.
I remained shocked that I maintained 4:10 pace to 44 km, as the finish line became visible. Even at this late stage, I was fully prepared to be demoted to fourth and potentially even fifth.
For some reason, I decided to put it all on the line, even if it meant collapsing metres short.
Until I entered the main concourse, there remained every possibility of this coming to pass, but the cheers which multiplied, coupled with the speakers announcing my arrival, provided me with a pivotal final incentive to will myself over the line.
I was in equal states of relief – that it was over, and disbelief – that I was third, as I stopped my watch and almost immediately into the path of a beaming Mark (who had his own tales to tell) for a jubilant embrace.
As soon as I stopped to consider what had just occurred and greeted Dion – who came home behind a victorious Nick Earl, I was gripped by a hefty bout of nausea and needed to get off my feet.
I was in zombie mode after that and waiting around for the ceremony, I had seen better days, but it had all been worthwhile for the result.
Five years after my first visit here, six and a half years after my first marathon and at my fifteenth overall, it was a surreal feeling to be called to the podium.
I know I was fortunate to catch a day where some established runners from past editions weren’t on hand, so it was great to capitalise, who knows when another opportunity might present itself?
Beyond that, it was vindication for putting the time in and embracing the grind which can sometimes feel difficult to justify.
On a personal level, this result instils belief that a sub 2:30 isn’t off the cards with a little more work, whilst anything else that comes my way like today is a bonus.
We made our eventual departure after a brief stop at a bakery, though I wasn’t in shape to contemplate food yet, instead opting for a Coke (which I wouldn’t touch any other time) to settle my stomach.
Despite this, some beverages were purchased for the trek home, with the ever hospitable Mark possessing the foresight to have an esky on hand.
Poor guy, we learned that he only had time to manage five kilometres once he reached Apollo Bay before having to blitz to the finish line in time to catch Dion and I.
Then that he kindly shipped some hapless foreign marathon participants’ gear on the journey, these individuals apparently nowhere near the start line after the race was underway when all of this transpired!
After a 20 minute wait for the main road to open, we were on our way, as taking in the final marathoners futile attempts to beat the pick up bus provided a sobering sight.
It took what seemed like record time to down my first beer as my stomach continued to languish, though it flowed much more freely once I reached my second.
Despite the fatigue setting in, the three hour journey passed quickly as everybody dissected the morning and pondered what lay ahead in the future.
We reached my place at 5:45. That’s some day that commenced thirteen hours earlier, and to consider that Mark, who now had to get himself home, was at the wheel for around nine of those, it was a sterling effort in its own right.
I can’t express how grateful I am for the ride and the support Mark! I hope to return the favour someday!
Dion and I congratulated each other once more before going our separate ways.
I had finally regained my appetite, so pizza (devoured in barely ten minutes) alongside an Italian red was a nice reward for the day’s toils!
The weariness came upon me fairly swiftly once I reclined on the couch, and by 9:30 I’d had enough.
I retreated to bed extremely content with a day that delivered big breakthroughs which have me steeled to take the next step.
AM
2.21 km – 10:02 @ 4:32/km
RACE: Great Ocean Road Marathon
44.5 km – 2:44:45 @ 3:42/km
42.2 km – 2:35:23
Max HR: 191 bpm. Avg: 172 bpm
Max Cadence: 204 spm. Avg: 176 spm
DAILY TOTAL
46.71 km
WEEKLY TOTAL

That box ticked, the clock is already counting down on Gold Coast, so a recovery week will give way to a concise block of training and the thrill of the chase will be upon me once more!







