TALE OF A MARATHON NOVICE BY BRONWEN GWYNN-JONES
"Around one per cent of the world’s population completes a marathon in their lifetime. For many keen runners, it’s the ultimate achievement."
It’s that time of the year, the close of a long winter and the coming of spring, when the year’s running events come to a climax with a series of marathons held around Australia. In August, I discovered that it is possible for a mere novice to complete their first marathon, with the right training and preparation.
It was around Easter that I decided I needed a carrot to dangle before me at the end of winter - a challenge that would keep me motivated, challenged and fit through the long, cold months in between beach seasons. A keen amateur triathalete for a couple of years, running has always been my first love. With my three children well and truly through the nursery years, I could finally see my way clear to committing myself to many hours of running over several months, chasing a dream to join the rather exclusive club of marathon finishers.
I had five months to train and become prepared. A dedicated gym enthusiast, I had a strong base, albeit often interrupted by family and work commitments. I started reading everything I could find, and consulting friends who had marathon experience.
My training program progressed well. I was completing around 40k’s a week on average, discovering new running tracks and loving every minute. I kept a training journal to record my mileage and how I was feeling.
Between runs, cross training held the key - Next Gen spin classes, cardio classes, yoga classes and lap swimming became my staple. Being able to arrive at the Club at 5.30am, workout throughout winter and be home in time for school drop-off is a huge advantage.
I edged up my running distances. And here’s where I made my first mistake.
I headed off on a 30k run, including Adelaide’s highest summit, carrying no fuel or hydration. About half way through, I decided this was a big mistake and while I have always got through smaller distances without the aid of fluid, I had taken my training to another level, and needed to apply heavier duty knowledge: carry hydration and fuel for any training that is more than one and a half to two hours long.
Until I started my sport in earnest, I thought ‘fuel’ was what you put in your car and ‘nutrition’ was what you concentrated on every day to keep your family healthy.
In fact, fuel and nutrition are the two vital elements that see you through an endurance event and out the other side with minimal damage to your body.
By the end of this run, not only was I was spent - and grumpy - I had so depleted my body’s natural resources and defence mechanisms that the following day I succumbed to a bad flu. My body simply had nothing left in it to fight off what my kids had brought home from school!
I spent the next two weeks on antibiotics, feeling dreadful and worrying about the impact on my training. It was at this time of a forced break that I learned another valuable lesson: rest is good. When I recovered, I was fresh and could attack training at a higher level.
I invested in a fuel belt - an elasticised belt which holds small bottles for fluid and room for a couple of energy gels. I began taking vitamins to boost my system. And I sought the advice of .next magazine’s resident sports nutritionist, Olivia Warnes, who was herself preparing for a marathon.
I completed 100 per cent of my running training on my own, entering local events along the way. One of the beauties of the sport is that you can run when it suits you, fitting training in around a grueling schedule with children’s sport taking priority on weekend mornings. Next year, I will try to join a group!
RACE DAY
Race day approached and I started questioning whether I had really done enough training for the event. I looked through my training journal for reassurance.
In the lead-up, life continued normally: work deadlines, children’s commitments and sports, family demands. The day before I slowed down long enough to sit on the couch and watch a couple of videos for the first time I can remember! I ate pasta. I drank loads of water. I knew I wouldn’t sleep too well, so I watched another couple of movies before going to bed tired.
My alarm went off at 4.45am. But I was already awake. I showered and washed my hair - you never can be too prepared - I checked my bag. Breakfast consisted of wheat-bix and crumpets with honey. And more sports drink.
I arrived at the stadium with time to spare; it was still dark. I went and hid in the toilets for about 10 minutes, while I got my head together. By the time I came out, it was light and the stadium was becoming more crowded. I did a few token stretches and meandered down to the track. 15 minutes ‘till race start. I soaked it all up. Five minutes ‘till race start. Time to jockey for position. We’re off and I’m careful not to go out too fast. We pass the ‘40k to go’ sign. Ringing in my head is ironman, Ben Noll’s warning: ‘you need to reach the 30k mark feeling fresh - that’s when the marathon really starts.’ Great.
The race left the city and headed for the beaches. I stuck to my refueling plan - sipping sports drink and taking in a sports gel every 10k - and put myself on cruise control. I pumped up my ipod and I loved every minute of it. All 42.2k’s.
Turns out, luckily, I had done enough preparation not to hit the wall and strike a difficult patch I couldn’t run through. I kept reminding myself just how much I wanted this.
I checked my time and knew I was on track for a race result I’d be pleased with. I saved it up ‘till the last 10k, then turned up the gas. The last 5k, I notched it up a little more. I ignored the pain in my legs. Pain is just pain, I told myself.
Seeing my friends and family at the finish line is one of those intangible life moments you can’t replace.
Recovery was sweet. No latte tastes quite as good as the one after a big event. I took myself to Next Generation where I recovered beautifully in the spa, the steam, a few cool laps in the pool and a welcome shower and lunch. There is, quite simply, no better facility at which to recuperate.
But as for the rest of the day, well, life reverts to the ordinary: there’s the supermarket shopping to be done, the school uniforms to be ready for the next day, dinner to be cooked. But how awesome to be taken to the extraordinary, just now and then.
With thanks to the organisers and volunteer marshals of the 2009 Adelaide Marathon, and to my long-suffering family.
"Around one per cent of the world’s population completes a marathon in their lifetime. For many keen runners, it’s the ultimate achievement."
It’s that time of the year, the close of a long winter and the coming of spring, when the year’s running events come to a climax with a series of marathons held around Australia. In August, I discovered that it is possible for a mere novice to complete their first marathon, with the right training and preparation.
It was around Easter that I decided I needed a carrot to dangle before me at the end of winter - a challenge that would keep me motivated, challenged and fit through the long, cold months in between beach seasons. A keen amateur triathalete for a couple of years, running has always been my first love. With my three children well and truly through the nursery years, I could finally see my way clear to committing myself to many hours of running over several months, chasing a dream to join the rather exclusive club of marathon finishers.
I had five months to train and become prepared. A dedicated gym enthusiast, I had a strong base, albeit often interrupted by family and work commitments. I started reading everything I could find, and consulting friends who had marathon experience.
My training program progressed well. I was completing around 40k’s a week on average, discovering new running tracks and loving every minute. I kept a training journal to record my mileage and how I was feeling.
Between runs, cross training held the key - Next Gen spin classes, cardio classes, yoga classes and lap swimming became my staple. Being able to arrive at the Club at 5.30am, workout throughout winter and be home in time for school drop-off is a huge advantage.
I edged up my running distances. And here’s where I made my first mistake.
I headed off on a 30k run, including Adelaide’s highest summit, carrying no fuel or hydration. About half way through, I decided this was a big mistake and while I have always got through smaller distances without the aid of fluid, I had taken my training to another level, and needed to apply heavier duty knowledge: carry hydration and fuel for any training that is more than one and a half to two hours long.
Until I started my sport in earnest, I thought ‘fuel’ was what you put in your car and ‘nutrition’ was what you concentrated on every day to keep your family healthy.
In fact, fuel and nutrition are the two vital elements that see you through an endurance event and out the other side with minimal damage to your body.
By the end of this run, not only was I was spent - and grumpy - I had so depleted my body’s natural resources and defence mechanisms that the following day I succumbed to a bad flu. My body simply had nothing left in it to fight off what my kids had brought home from school!
I spent the next two weeks on antibiotics, feeling dreadful and worrying about the impact on my training. It was at this time of a forced break that I learned another valuable lesson: rest is good. When I recovered, I was fresh and could attack training at a higher level.
I invested in a fuel belt - an elasticised belt which holds small bottles for fluid and room for a couple of energy gels. I began taking vitamins to boost my system. And I sought the advice of .next magazine’s resident sports nutritionist, Olivia Warnes, who was herself preparing for a marathon.
I completed 100 per cent of my running training on my own, entering local events along the way. One of the beauties of the sport is that you can run when it suits you, fitting training in around a grueling schedule with children’s sport taking priority on weekend mornings. Next year, I will try to join a group!
RACE DAY
Race day approached and I started questioning whether I had really done enough training for the event. I looked through my training journal for reassurance.
In the lead-up, life continued normally: work deadlines, children’s commitments and sports, family demands. The day before I slowed down long enough to sit on the couch and watch a couple of videos for the first time I can remember! I ate pasta. I drank loads of water. I knew I wouldn’t sleep too well, so I watched another couple of movies before going to bed tired.
My alarm went off at 4.45am. But I was already awake. I showered and washed my hair - you never can be too prepared - I checked my bag. Breakfast consisted of wheat-bix and crumpets with honey. And more sports drink.
I arrived at the stadium with time to spare; it was still dark. I went and hid in the toilets for about 10 minutes, while I got my head together. By the time I came out, it was light and the stadium was becoming more crowded. I did a few token stretches and meandered down to the track. 15 minutes ‘till race start. I soaked it all up. Five minutes ‘till race start. Time to jockey for position. We’re off and I’m careful not to go out too fast. We pass the ‘40k to go’ sign. Ringing in my head is ironman, Ben Noll’s warning: ‘you need to reach the 30k mark feeling fresh - that’s when the marathon really starts.’ Great.
The race left the city and headed for the beaches. I stuck to my refueling plan - sipping sports drink and taking in a sports gel every 10k - and put myself on cruise control. I pumped up my ipod and I loved every minute of it. All 42.2k’s.
Turns out, luckily, I had done enough preparation not to hit the wall and strike a difficult patch I couldn’t run through. I kept reminding myself just how much I wanted this.
I checked my time and knew I was on track for a race result I’d be pleased with. I saved it up ‘till the last 10k, then turned up the gas. The last 5k, I notched it up a little more. I ignored the pain in my legs. Pain is just pain, I told myself.
Seeing my friends and family at the finish line is one of those intangible life moments you can’t replace.
Recovery was sweet. No latte tastes quite as good as the one after a big event. I took myself to Next Generation where I recovered beautifully in the spa, the steam, a few cool laps in the pool and a welcome shower and lunch. There is, quite simply, no better facility at which to recuperate.
But as for the rest of the day, well, life reverts to the ordinary: there’s the supermarket shopping to be done, the school uniforms to be ready for the next day, dinner to be cooked. But how awesome to be taken to the extraordinary, just now and then.
With thanks to the organisers and volunteer marshals of the 2009 Adelaide Marathon, and to my long-suffering family.