After 18 weeks of training and 12 months of build-up, I crossed the finish line of the Melbourne Marathon at 12:20pm. The finish was all that I'd come to expect and more. It was sheer jubilation and exhilaration followed by an overwhelming tide of emotion and flood of pain. It was made even more special by the presence of my son, Angus and my wife, Sonia who had provided me with so much support and inspiration over the previous 12 months.
I didn't sleep much the night before. Thoughts of the unknown had me tossing and turning to the sound of rain drumming on the roof like an executioner's drum roll. I set the alarm for 4:45am so that I'd have plenty of time to eat my race day meal of porridge. If it was good enough for my marauding ancestors in the Highlands, it was good enough for me.
I arrived at the start with 15 minutes to spare. I'd made the decision to wear half compression tights and race socks instead of the full-length tights. Even though the weather would remain cool, I knew that overheating would be my biggest enemy - or so I thought.
I felt a surge of adrenalin as the race started. I kept to my race plan of running three minutes and walking one that I’d adopted since missing three weeks of training due to a chest infection in August. I'd calculated that 72 intervals would roughly equate to 40km, with the final 2 kilometres a glory run, or a martyrs crawl to the finish.
Part way down St Kilda Road I felt a cramp in my right shin every time I walked. It reminded me of the pain I sometimes felt when I used to walk fast while guiding in the mountains. The adrenalin of starting the race meant I was over striding the walking interval. By ten kilometres on the way around Albert Park Lake, the shin pain disappeared as I relaxed into the run.
At the 15km mark on the run down to Port Melbourne, I began to notice some soreness on the outside of my left knee. I'd first noticed a "click" in my knee at the end of the 32km two weeks ago but thought nothing of it. Like the shin pain, I hoped it would pass. During the 18 weeks of training, I'd never had any injuries. If I wanted to finish this thing, it seemed the Marathon gods were not going to let me off lightly.
Somewhere between St Kilda and Brighton, the race turned from being fun to something more serious – it was now a matter of survival. It was a combination of the weather, the knee, the distance from the finish and crossing the half-marathon mark. The rain kicked in, the wind came up and the temperature dropped. The turnaround at Brighton at 25km seemed a long, lonely way from home.
I wasn’t the only one finding it tough. The field was stretched out and there was steady stream of ambulances picking up those who could go on no longer. Of the 5,720 starters, over 750 dropped out. Ominously, I passed a man wrapped in a space blanket seemingly unconscious being attended to by medics.
To add to the battlefield milieu, I passed a six-strong Australian Army team who ran the distance carrying more than 20kg of combat gear in the boots they wore in Afghanistan. It reminded me of the conclusion of Full Metal Jacket with the Marines marching back to base singing the Mickey Mouse March. Like Joker in Full metal Jacket, despite being "in a world of s***”, I was glad to be alive and I was no longer afraid. Retired marathoners only know one thing - it is better to finish.
It was on the way back from Brighton that I contemplated retiring due to the knee. I soon dismissed the thought and focused on the rhythm of the intervals. As long as I did that, I could keep going. It was about this time that I started to chant a Taoist stanza that I use for meditation.
On the way back from Brighton, I stopped at the aid station porta-loos. The smell of ten thousand runner’s ablutions made me gag. Getting going again was agony. It felt good to cross into Fitzroy Street away from the wild squalls of the bay. At St Kilda Junction, I was given a water bottle from a good Samaritan and I downed an energy gel for the run home.
Somewhere down St Kilda Road around the 34 km mark, I must have hit the wall. I don’t remember the actual place, but my pace became noticeably slower. And as I recall, although memory can be a fickle thing, any question of not finishing disappeared.
But the best was yet to come. As I made my way up toward the finish I heard my name been called out. I turned to see Sonia and Angus with Sonia’s cousin Michelle who had just completed her first 5km run. It was second only to the joy of witnessing Angus’s birth and seeing Sonia walk up the aisle at our wedding. Momentarily I veered toward them but I made a beeline for the finish line, least I seize up and fall in a heap at their feet.
I crossed the line with my hands aloft and a smile on my face. The aftermath wasn’t so pretty. I immediately became aware of the pain in my legs. As I walked toward the drinks table I felt an over whelming wave of emotion surge through me. It was a response to the knee trauma, as I ground out the second half of the marathon and relief that it was over. Mixed in there was the residual doubt and fear of having missed three weeks of training. There may also have been an echo of the times I’d backed out of climbing a mountain, or let someone down because I lacked the courage to face my inner demons. Pain is indeed inevitable and suffering optional, at least until you finish.
The walk back to the car was almost the hardest part of the day. Without Sonia’s high spirits, I’m not sure how I would have made it. Sitting in the car was sheer bliss. I devoured a banana, shared my pretzels with Angus and guzzled a sports drink. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it out of the car without assistance, so I asked Michelle hung around. As it happened, I managed to make it from the car to an ice bath without assistance.
After the bath and a lingering hot shower, I lay on the couch for the afternoon. A warm glow permeated my body when I ate my first meal. A foot massage from Sonia was divine. She was my post marathon angel. Later in the afternoon, I managed to walk around the block. It took me so long that Sonia contemplated a search party.
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| On the road to the 2012 Melbourne Marathon... |
Route: Melbourne Marathon
Actual Distance - 42.1km
Time - 5:19:10
Pace - 7:07 min/km
HR/%/Zone: 153/79/3.2
RPE: 9
Temp: 12.5C
Total for week: 54.6 km
Cumulative Total: 578.4 km 
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