Clarendon marathon 2020

So here we were - after nearly 7 months without racing, pitching up at Wyvern College, on the edge of Salisbury, for the wonderful Clarendon Marathon. Rarely has a race been so eagerly anticipated in our household, following a long hot summer of training-but-no-racing. Mrs S had been coaching three friends (David, Rollo and Kate) to get to this, their first marathon, and what's more several other friends were running the full marathon, the half or the relay.

After a very dry September, the rain had fallen in vast quantities over the previous 72 hours, courtesy of Storm Alex. Sunday morning greeted us with unseasonably cold winds and intermittent further rain. We met up with Mrs S's morning entourage (the novices, plus endurance stalwarts Abi, Susie and Ian) and after the customary worrying about what to wear, I joined them up at the start area.

 
(a) a snapshot of the course, taken 24 hours earlier; (b) Sunday's rain offering

Some of the 09:00 gang, nearly ready...

...and the full gang, primed for the off

In a topsy-turvy year, this was not a conventional race with a massed start. The steadiest entrants had set off at around 7:30, and from then on it was a question of selecting a start time against a slower-earlier and faster-later logic. After a round of photos and good-lucks, Mrs S and crew set off just before 9, and I retired to the warmth of the steamed-up car with a book and a flask of coffee.

At about 10:30, several of the Romsey runners were starting to show up. I changed out of my nice warm clothes, fretted about which shoes to wear, got myself registered (the registration tent gazebo was being taken down and the poor folk at the desk were putting their damp pieces of paper away and looking wretchedly cold), and did some warming up.

The 11:00 Romsey gang

There were five of us remaining at this point - me, Becky, Matt and Neil from Romsey, James White from Eastleigh and another guy from Salisbury. At 10:55 we were all looking at each other, wondering whether we should just get on with it. Becky went off, and at 10:58 I'd had enough of waiting and I got going.

It was strange to be starting a race completely on my own... it felt like the virtual races I'd tried and given up on earlier in the summer. But after a few minutes I passed Becky, and soon after that the Salisbury guy came tearing past me at a mad pace. Then Matt came by saying 'don't worry about him - he's doing the relay'. I had no notion that Neil was just behind me at this point.

Three RRR shirts... Matt has just overtaken me and Neil is close behind

Up the first hill past Clarendon Palace, through the woods to Pitton and then on to the twists and turns of Winterslow. The marshals were invariably cheerful and encouraging. The rain came and went, and the wind was generally blowing us in the right direction.

  

(a) Somewhere in Winterslow, taken by Ian from OS: (b) Still manoeuvring the bend, and passing Ian's home-made OS Runners sign

At this point I was periodically passing earlier starters. The whole etiquette of overtaking was given added significance by the social distancing rules, but everyone was friendly and encouraging. The ground was wet underfoot but at this point was reasonably firm going, albeit with some excitingly large puddles which were fun to charge through.

Broughton Down was, as expected, fully of slippery bare chalk, which always terrfies me on the downhill slopes. Beyond Broughton, now into the second half, I was passing others more regularly and could feel the effect of the rain-soaked cross-wind. A runner came whooshing past me: 'I'm doing the half!' he gasped, to my relief. Into King's Somborne, looking out for Mum and Dad, and I was delighted to see their parked car ahead on the road, and passed with a flurry of waving. 

I felt strong on the big climbs from King's Somborne to Farley Mount. Then at the '5 miles remaining' sign I was into a dog-leg in West Wood, marking a tweak in this year's course. The return leg was steady uphill and quite abruptly, I started feeling properly weary. The next couple of miles were hard work, with long slippery muddy sections that left me floundering, and which required tricky overtaking negotiations. I knew the climb up to Lanham Lane would be tough, and it really was bastardly soul-sapping. I was reduced to a shuffle and tripped on one of the numerous roots, almost falling on my face.

Then out on to the road with less than 2 miles to go. I had no notion at all of how my race was going, but motivated myself with the thought that Neil would overtake me at any moment... I had expected to see him a long way back. 

Onto Sarum Road, and a push to the line, which arrived more quickly than expected in the reconfigured finish area. 3:12:57 of running and it was over. I snaked up and down the airport-style queuing barriers and had a chat with James White from Eastleigh, who arrived a few seconds after me but had started later.

It was a deliberately low-key and spartan finish. I hobbled off to find Mrs S and Abi at the car, feeling increasingly cold and immobile. At the car, I struggled to get out of my wet stuff and then struggled further to get my damp and broken limbs into dry stuff, before trudging back to the start area to check out whether I'd won anything.

I was thrilled to have got third place, after Matt H and James White. I had been very lucky in that Neil  on a good day would have trounced me - but he had had an uncomfortable race with a sore back.

Donald Trump had come out of hospital especially for the prizegiving

I was just over 5 minutes slower than last year, but I reckon that today's conditions added at least that to the tally. More significantly, I am immensely grateful to the lovely Mrs S, who painstakingly devised, refined and maintained a day-by-day training plan incorporating all the endurance running wisdom that she's been researching. This was the first time that I've trained to a plan, incorporating a weekly mix of slow, tempo, interval and speed sessions. A very big thank-you, my darling.