Canberra Marathon April 2011

When I was looking around for my next marathon, all enthusiastic in the afterglow of my fantastic New York trip, there was nothing to be found online about Canberra's annual marathon. Canberra is our national capital and only 2.5 hours drive from our house (very convenient), but in 2010 there was some legal dispute about who owned the rights to stage the race, and at the end of the year this was still unresolved. There was some doubt about whether the 2011 race would actually go ahead.

Despite the lack of a suitable goal race, after my 5 week post-marathon Higdon plan I decided to embark on another marathon training plan anyway - never let it be said that I am not a goal-oriented sort of person! And then in January an email arrived in my in-box about "The Australian Running Festival" in April, and lo and behold it was the re-born Canberra Marathon, scheduled for April 10 and fitting in perfectly with the training plan I had already started. Hooray!

The training

Pfitzinger 18/55. For the uninitiated, Pete Pfitzinger is an American former Olympic marathoner whose marathon training plans are well-known amongst the marathoning community and renowned for difficulty but also spectacular results for those who make it through uninjured. This plan stretches over 18 weeks and peaks at 55 miles per week (88km) - I actually added some miles to max out at just under 65 miles, or 104km. It is comprised of speedwork, intervals and long runs, and yes, it is every bit as intense as it sounds.

I had no major problems with the plan, though, and felt well-prepared in the lead-up to Canberra. So well-prepared that I somehow thought it was a good idea to invite a whole bunch of experienced marathoners on Runners World Online (RWOL) to place bets on how much I could improve on my NY time. I can't account for why I felt the need for some extra pressure to achieve, but there it promptly was, in the form of a raft of seriously fast predicted times. Ooops.

Race day

During the night before the race I'm awake every hour from 1:30am onwards, thinking "Is it time yet??" At 4:30am I'm awake for good, but I feel well-rested, probably from going to bed at the insanely early hour of 9pm the evening before. I check the weather - there is apparently a 40% chance of rain, but outside the road is dry - and after a breakfast of chocolate milk and raisin toast I drive over and park near the starting area.

It's still dark but there are a few people around, so I go over and check out the starting line. The race office is in a school hall, so I go to use the bathrooms and I'm the only one in the whole block. Could this be any more different to New York?? I head back to the car to stay warm, even though it's currently overcast and about 14c/57F, so not cold, and there is no sign of the wind or rain I was expecting. I make the incredibly stupid mistake of posting on Facebook that it's not cold or raining, and five minutes later the heavens open and the temperature drops by at least 5 degrees. Duh. Next time someone needs to tell me to STFU about the weather, honestly.

When I head over to the start with 30 minutes to go, NO-ONE is lined up yet apart from one dude in a red shirt. Again, the incredible difference to NY strikes me. I loiter around under some trees for a while, staying out of the rain, and when I do go to line up a few other people eventually come over. I end up in the very front line, thinking "I do NOT belong at the very front, how did I get here?!", until some more people come over and I can fade back a few paces. Two fast-looking women show up, one with a half-marathon bib on, the other a full. Ms HM and I start talking, she introduces herself as Hannah and says she's shooting for 70 minutes. Whoa! What?!

There are no seeded runners or preferred runners at the race, but the city is home to the Australian Institute of Sport so it's actually not too surprising that amazingly fast runners like this have showed up. Sure enough, I find out later that Hannah was the female HM winner (in the somewhat slower time of 1:23:36), and her friend with the marathon bib on wins the ladies' marathon. I see her a few times during the race, waaaaaay out in front of any other female runner, and am not surprised that her time of 2:50:49 puts her almost 7 minutes ahead of her nearest rival.

With a minute or so to go I'm still only about 3 rows back from the very front, and when the gun goes off I'm over the line in seconds. And so it begins!

The race

The course is a multi-lap affair that winds around the parliamentary district before heading across the lake and along a major road (thankfully closed to traffic) to a turn-around point. The marathoners do 2 laps of this circuit, the half-marathoners only one. My Garmin is set to lap automatically every 1km so for brevity's sake these are the paces in min/mile, averaged out over each 3km, which is just short of 2 miles.

Miles 1-2: 6:58

This is mostly due to a 6:40 pace first 1km - I reel it in quickly when I realise how fast I'm going, and the rest is around 7:08. It's raining steadily but not too windy; I get a bit of a lift when a Scottish voice behind my shoulder says "That's the most efficient gait I've seen this morning" and yes, he's talking to me! I thank him and float onwards feeling great.

Miles 3-4: 7:09

Right on pace. I get the shock of my life as we run beside the lake - a dude in plastic flip-flops and a bucket hat goes tearing past with the loudest footfalls I've ever heard. Seriously, flip-flops?? I see him later much further on and he's still going, but on the second lap there is no sign of him.....

Miles 5-6: 7:02

Too fast again. Oops. Around mile 5 I realise my right shoe is squelching every time it hits the ground because the rain is really pouring down now. Niiiiice. For the first time, my running friend Ilana's words to me come into my head and it soon becomes my race mantra: Suck it up, Princess, and run!

Miles 7-8: 7:03

Still too fast - there are lots of people around me and I'm matching their pace. I concentrate on running MY OWN race and try to slow down, even if it means I'm getting passed.

Miles 9-10: 7:10

Back on the right pace, but the weather is miserable. There's a guy ahead of me running in a see-through singlet and Speedos. This cheers me up moderately and I think to myself "What is this, Mardi Gras??" Or maybe he just had a better idea than I did of what the weather was going to be like, who knows.

Miles 11-12: 7:12

We go past the HM turn-around and the crowd thins considerably. The leading marathoners are on their way back already and I count (slightly incorrectly) that there are a total of 8 women ahead of me. Hmmmm - I decide a top ten finish would be just the thing to help me forget this misery. It's still pouring with rain, by the way.

Miles 13-14: 7:10

Don't remember what this bit was like. Too busy telling self to suck it up, and trying to stay on pace.

Miles 15-16: 7:12

Out for lap 2. Now I'm lapping HM runners so at least I'm overtaking people, but it's getting harder to stay on pace. I remind myself that this bit isn't meant to feel easy, and to suck it up. I pass a female runner and now I'm in 8th.

Miles 17-18: 7:20

Past the HM turnaround again, I get passed by a girl who looks like she's just cruisin'. Rather than getting annoyed or despondent I think, ok, 9th is still top ten, and keep plugging away. Positive thinking!!

Miles 19-20: 7:25

Near the marathon turn I see someone coming out of a porta-loo ahead of me and lookit that, it's a female runner. She sets off at a fast pace and I think, ok, good for you, that's cool - but am secretly pleased when she slows down dramatically after the turn and I pass her with ease. Back into 8th spot.

Miles 21-22: 7:35

The rain, which had just eased off a bit, now picks up again and there's wind gusts as well as a small but significant incline - I start to lose focus and slow down. Back to chanting my mantra.

Miles 23-24: 7:22

The mantra appears to be working, but only just. All I can think is, when will this be over? By now I'm checking my watch and figuring out what time I'll do if I tank completely and slow down to 8:00 pace, and it's still faster than my NY time, but I'm trying not to succumb to the temptation to give up.

Miles 25-26.2: 7:47

Uh oh. I'm giving it all I've got, but the legs just won't turn over any faster. In a cruel irony, the rain chooses this moment to finally ease almost completely. I get passed by a female runner but whatever, I'm past caring. Just before the finish I hear my 4 year old yelling out "Go Mama! Go Mama!" and it's all I can do to muster a silly grin and wave to him, then THANK GOD it's all over.

The time on my Garmin is 3:12:25, my official time 3:12:27 - turns out I was 10th woman and managed to place 2nd in my age group.

On reflection, there was one person I saw who was coming back when I was suffering my way out on the second lap - by whom I was initially baffled but ultimately decided was male - who clearly was actually female. Whatever, 10th is still technically top ten, and enough to get my name in the local paper. Cool!

The analysis

I'm not sure I could have improved on the training that I did, but it's clear that I still lack somewhat in endurance. From mile 17 or so I definitely shifted down a gear, and by mile 21 I was finding it really hard going. The weather didn't help, but I can't blame it entirely - if I can run 16 miles in those conditions without slowing down, why couldn't I keep it going for the whole 26.2?

I've come away with a new respect for the marathon distance; in New York it was just fun and new and a bit like being in the Olympics, in Canberra it was something entirely other. Take away the 2 million cheering spectators, the perfect weather and, um, NEW YORK, and you've got 26.2 miles of tough slog through teeming rain. I'd say about 17 of those were pretty fun, 4 or 5 were pretty tough and the last 3 or 4 were bloody horrible. I'm proud of the way I approached it, though, and that I never threw in the mental towel.

I'm planning my next marathon now with a new determination and awareness of just how hard it can be......and 3:10, I'm coming for you.

New York Marathon November 2010

For a long time when my focus was on half-marathons, I said I would never be able to stay interested enough to keep running for a full marathon. The thought of a 3 hour training run held absolutely no appeal for me. But sometime during 2009 I think I realised that my HM times were never going to get back to where they were in 2001 or even maybe 2007. Perhaps it was time for a new challenge.....

And then in early 2010 a running friend who lives in New York state suddenly announced that she had signed up for the New York Marathon. I had no idea that it was possible to qualify for guaranteed entry to NYC; I thought it was just the lottery for everyone. In retrospect that sounds dumb, but the world of marathons was uncharted territory for me at that point.

An idea began to take hold: my HM time was fast enough to guarantee me entry for NYC....maybe Mum would come and mind the kids for a week or 10 days......maybe DH could be persuaded that a lightening trip to NY in November was a good (as opposed to insane, extravagant or just plain ridiculous) idea.....maybe I would sign up myself.

The day my status changed to "Accepted" was the day I realised this was serious - we were going to New York! I found myself a relatively simple training plan by Hal Higdon and marked the dates on my calendar. After the relative success of my May HM I started marathon training in late June.

The training

18 weeks, Hal Higdon's Advanced II plan.

I had no major problems with the training plan and the weekly mileage peaked at 53, which in retrospect was fairly modest, as marathon training plans go. The long runs increased slowly from 12 miles (19.2km) to the big one: 20 miles, a distance I completed 3 times during the cycle. After the first one I realised, maybe it would be a good idea to take some energy source along, and settled on GU Chomps. After the second one I realised, maybe I should be taking water too? IDIOT. Needless to say, my 3rd (and final) 20 miler was my favourite.

The travel

My experience of running overseas while living in the UK introduced me to the wonderful concept of running tourism. What better way to get to know a new city than to run a major race there? And what better justification for a trip to New York than to run my first marathon??

The trip to New York was utter luxury: for the first time in over 4 years no screaming baby or manic toddler to worry about, just me and my surprisingly roomy seat on an A380 Airbus, watching movies that did not involve Bob the Builder or the Wiggles. HEAVEN.

The atmosphere in New York was electric when I arrived there 4 days before the marathon. The city was filled with runners, all jumpy from tapering, and as the signs and seating went up in Central Park it really sunk in that I was about to actually DO this. I tried not to tire my legs out by walking too much in the days before the marathon, but it was impossible. The day before the race, DH and I went for a final, gentle jog in Central Park and got caught up in the finish of the International Friendship Race; of course I couldn't resist getting a cheesy picture with my national flag.

Race day

It's still dark and just 38F/1C at 6am when I take the ferry over to Staten Island, and not much warmer throughout the subsequent 3 hours I spend waiting for the 9:40am start. I'm all layered up in old sweats but still, I'm freezing. As the sun comes up it's a beautiful, clear fall day, perfect racing conditions in fact. Finally at 8:20am it's time to enter the corral - Blue Wave Corral 4 - and then at last we move down and onto the ramp approach to the Verrazano Bridge.

Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" is playing over loudspeakers as the gun goes off and after all that waiting we are suddenly off and running. It takes me less than 90 seconds to get over the actual start line - the dangerous congestion I was expecting thankfully does not eventuate - and so begins my first ever marathon.

Miles 1-2: 7:11 (average pace min/mile)

First mile is uphill with lots of people around, but second is downhill and well below 7:00. Whoa, slow down!

Miles 3-4: 7:02

Obviously not listening to myself at this point.

Miles 5-6: 7:08

Ok, by now I know I'm going quite a bit faster than my stated goal pace of 7:40, but I can't hear my Garmin beeping the splits (the crowd is deafening), so I give up worrying about it and just go with the flow. Hmm, possibly a mistake.

Miles 7-8: 7:11

Miles 9-10: 7:15

Miles 11-12: 7:23

Starting to calm down a bit and getting closer to the pace I said I'd run. No problems at this stage....

Miles 13-14: 7:10

I go through the halfway mark in around 1:36 and I'm feeling fine.

Miles 15-16: 7:24

The Queensboro bridge, first major obstacle of the course so far. It's a punishingly long uphill, not steep, but it just keeps going. I slow down somewhat and my Garmin freaks out when it loses the satellites on the lower deck of the bridge.

Miles 17-18: 7:01

Oops. The excitement of turning onto First Avenue, Manhattan and seeing my DH in the crowd is a little too much and suddenly I'm flying along again on the adrenaline rush.

Miles 19-20: 7:23

Still ahead of the pace I set as my "goal", but finally I'm slowing down. This is supposed to be where many people start hitting The Wall. I actually realise that this is getting harder now, and I lose focus for the first time.

Miles 21-22: 7:39

I'm struggling a bit and letting the pace slide now. I check my Garmin and uh-oh, not happy. All week my American friend Glenn has been goading me about how fast I can run this, though, and his words echo in my head now....so I tell myself "You can do better than this", put my head down and pick it back up.

Miles 23-24: 7:30

DH spots me (I don't see him) and texts my other friends (including Glenn) that I'm not looking so happy now - but when I see Glenn jumping up and down I'm waving like a clown and not looking nearly as horrible as he expected. And I'm nearly there now! The crowds in Central Park are unbelievable, it's like running in the Olympics, and the adrenaline carries me on.

Mile 25-26.2: 7:22

I wave to some random people in the grandstands near Columbus Circle as I turn off Central Park South and head towards the finish. They go nuts and I start laughing - it's such a thrill - and with a big smile still on my face I cross the finish line in the official time of 3:17:02. Woohoo!

The aftermath

They say the best thing to do after a marathon is to keep moving, and it's unavoidable anyway as I have to walk past 59 other UPS trucks to get to the one holding my stuff. Then I have to walk back and out of the park, find my cheer squad and walk all the way back to our hotel near Columbus Circle. This means we cover close to 3 or even 4 miles by the time I get to sit down, but I feel pretty good. After I say goodbye to my American friends and take a luxurious shower, DH and I go and eat greasy pizza in a diner near our hotel, and damn if it doesn't taste just wonderful.

The next day, walking down stairs is not too pleasant and my quads are fairly trashed, but at least I can make it onto the plane back to Australia - unlike some other guy who they have to load in a wheelchair. I refrain from wearing my medal on the plane, though.

There's no doubt that I am hooked on marathons now. In terms of preparation and execution, I can only think of one or two things I would have changed. I'm thrilled I went so far under my official stated goal of 3:30, but aware of the fact that I ran a fairly large positive split (1:36 and 1:41 approximately) and that I can probably do a lot better next time.

Which leads us inevitably to the weekend of April 10th, 2011.

Running in Wagga

Moving out to Wagga Wagga (5hrs drive to the southwest of Sydney) at the end of 2007 had some immediate and direct benefits for my running. Firstly, we moved to a house conveniently located next to a lake with a smooth gravel trail the whole way around it - the perfect running route, flat and traffic-free!

Second, I became something of a big fish in a small pond, since the running community in these parts is fairly small. Being pregnant for most of 2008 meant racing was out, but I didn't miss much: there are unfortunately only two major running events in this area, namely the Wagga Wagga Trail Marathon in August and the Lake to Lagoon in September.

By August 2009 I was raring to go, though, so I entered the 10K race associated with the Trail Marathon. It was a rainy day so the course was a very muddy and slippery out-and-back along the Murrumbidgee River - I ran it in 46:03 which to me seemed very slow but was enough to get 3rd female finisher. I think I won a pair of socks - thrilling - but really all I wanted to do was to get home and get dry!

In September that year I ran my first Lake to Lagoon, a 9.5km race from the lake near our place to the lagoon in central Wagga. Did I mention how much I hate late starts? The race began at 10:30am on an unseasonably warm September day - by the time the gun went off it was already almost 30C (86F). Worse still, the whole first half of the course was uphill.......and when I finally reached the crest of Lake Albert Road - the rest of the course being mostly downhill - I realised there was now a rather strong headwind to contend with. Aaaaargh!!

I finished in 40:52 as the 4th female - clearly I was not the only one struggling with the conditions, as there were several people actually passed out on the river-side path towards the end - and was moderately chuffed to find I was the fastest local woman. Not chuffed enough to feel inclined to enter again in 2010, though!

In August 2010 I did however feel that the Trail Marathon and its associated races were worth another try. This time I entered the half-marathon and was looking forward to the relatively flat trails where it is usually held.

But the weather, it seemed, had something else in mind for me. Four days before the race, an enormous downpour dumped 2 inches of rain on Wagga in the space of 10 minutes, which when added to the already soaked ground (we were in the midst of our wettest year on record) created flooding over many parts of the intended marathon/half-marathon course. A sudden course change was in order!

A punishing out-and-back course was laid, starting by the Lake at the Boat Club and climbing to the top of Red Hill (ouch!) before snaking along the top of Willans Hill (double ouch!) and out towards the Olympic Highway, somewhere I had never yet ventured. But all that was about to change.

On the morning of the race I jogged the 1.5 miles over to the start in nice cool weather and arrived to find a small crowd of runners waiting by the lake. I quickly spotted my main competitor in the half-marathon field - she was the only person there wearing compression socks - and chatted with her until we were ready to line up at the start.

The gun went off and I was quickly out in front, somewhat to my surprise. I was planning to run the race as a long run, since I was now in training for the real thing: my first marathon some 3 months away. But perhaps I could be persuaded to race after all, particularly if I had a chance of winning!

The course at first was flat and fairly fast - but then we turned up Red Hill Road. I had run over this hill many times before and found it hard but not impossible; I did not realise that a fair chunk has actually been cut out of the hill to allow the road through, and that the running path would continue steeply upwards long after the road had levelled out. Yikes - by the top I was still running but only just. My Garmin tells the story of how hilly the course proved to be:

The huge hills - and their accompanying downhills - made for a wildly swinging race pace. The graph at the bottom shows the course's elevation profile - and for those used to miles per minute, I started out around 7:00 but between 4 and 5km dived to 8:30 before speeding up again to around 7:00 pace, then back down to 8:40ish, and so on. You will see that in the final stretches I even sped up to 6:50 at one stage, but that's another story, and it comes back to my friendly rival in compression socks.

As the first half of the race progressed I knew I was in the lead and I possibly got a bit cocky, thinking I had put a fair distance between myself and the other women in the race. At the turn-around I got a nasty shock: Ms Compression Socks was only 40 seconds behind. Oooops. It was time for a rethink - but the hills were killing me and after a short downhill we were once again climbing and climbing as we came back up the side of Willans Hill. I tried to pick it up but wasn't succeeding too well.......and then something really dumb happened.

I mentioned before that the course had been hastily re-laid on the two days beforehand, due to flooding. A consequence of this was that in some places - where the bush was thick and the track unclear - it was pretty hard to know which way to go. Being out the front did not help in this regard, and around the 16km (10 mile) mark I briefly lost my way. I found myself heading down towards a road, and thought "I don't remember this from the outward leg...."

By the time I realised and headed back up the hill, it was too late: I spotted a runner and lo, it was Ms Socks, now in front of me. All together now: BUGGER!

I now put the pedal to the metal and sure enough managed to catch and pass her on the steep uphill to the crest of Red Hill - but the effort spent meant that I could not hold onto my lead for very long. Within a kilometer - the one run in 4:13 - she was on my tail, and with around 2.5km left she passed me at last. I crossed the finish line just 30 seconds behind, in a time of 1:39:20, for second place. Who knows if those 30 seconds might have been mine, had I not taken the wrong turn when I did?

It was slightly galling that she won a swag of cool stuff (gift vouchers and such) when all I got was this mingy little trophy, but I had learned two important lessons:

1) Never, ever underestimate the competition;

2) Compression socks make you look like you mean business.

I would remember both these points for my first full marathon experience later that year.

SMH Half-Marathon May 2010

In planning my strategy to once again break 1:30, I followed the advice of a marathoning friend and decided to follow a formal training plan for the very first time. I can't remember how I settled upon Hal Higdon, it may well have been by Googling "half marathon training plan" (very scientific) but however it happened, it was a great fit.

I chose his most advanced half-marathon program and soon found myself running long runs of up to 2 hours on Sundays, with shorter easy runs during the week and a variety of speed workouts thrown in for good measure. In retrospect, it wasn't a tough program, but I did find myself improving my paces throughout the training.

At the end of the 12 weeks I found myself once again lining up for the same race which had been my debut half marathon in 2001, but a lot had changed in the 9 years since I ran that course in 1:26:24. The start was in a completely different place - much more convenient, actually - and although there were some small alterations to the actual route, it was still 2 laps through the Sydney CBD with a murderous ascent up Hunter St during the final 5km of each.

Once again I travelled up to Sydney the day before the race, but this time with a very excited 3 year old son in tow. We spent Saturday riding around on public transport (heaven for small boys) and ate an early dinner with Pop and Nona before retiring to our hotel, where DS wriggled and kicked and was generally too overexcited to fall asleep until we had been lying on his bed together for at least an hour. Thankfully there was another bed for me to creep into and get a much better sleep than I would have if we had shared one all night!

The day of the race was beautiful, crisp autumn air and a bright blue sky. We walked up to the start and were met by Pop, who had been drafted to babysit for the duration of the race. This was when I started to feel quite emotional, in large part because I had used my time from the previous September to get preferred runner status for this race. I had been given preferred runner status for 2002 but had then been so badly injured and was devastated to miss out on taking up the offer. Now, I was finally getting to enjoy what I had first earned so many years ago - warming up out front, lining up behind the elite runners - and it felt GREAT!

The gun went off and I was running at what felt like a comfortable pace, not too fast - so I was surprised to find myself going through the 5km mark in under 20 minutes - 19:51, to be exact. I was definitely off to a good start!

I stayed fairly well on pace even despite the Hunter St hill to finish the next 5km in 20:16, and hear the announcer saying "These people are on pace for an 85-86 minute finish" as I made the turn to start lap number 2. That sounded pretty good to me - but could I hold the pace?

At first the answer was yes: I ran the 3rd 5km in 20:53.......but then I hit Hunter St for the second time around.

Groan - it was awful - and my pace took a huge hit. Around me people were stopping, walking, looking like death. I felt like joining them, but made it to the top of the hill still running and was relieved to turn down into the Domain for the last 4km. My split for the 15km-20km section was a shocking 23:19, almost 3.5 minutes slower than my first 5K split. As we rounded Lady Macquarie's Chair and headed up the final hill to the finish, I heard someone yelling to his friends "We have to pick it up if we're going to break 90 minutes, come on!".

This was like a red rag to a bull. I put my head down, ignored the protest from my legs and lungs, and ramped it up as far as I could. I rounded the final corner and went into the chute like I was being chased, crossing the line in 1:29:48 with a huge beaming smile: I did it!! Not much under 90 minutes, but under just the same.

It would be the only time in 2010 that I would run a half in under 90 minutes, but that was in part due to another, new goal: the full marathon.

Watch this space......

2009 - another comeback, or maybe not.

Towards the end of 2007, I had really made a strong comeback to running. But other priorities were weighing on my mind, namely the idea of expanding our family. I have never been one to listen too carefully to the ticking of my biological clock, but on the other hand I had always wanted 2 children and I figured, why not get it all over with sooner rather than later??

The first thing this meant was running less. I somewhat reluctantly eased back on the mileage during November and December, and was rewarded in January (on the day before my birthday) with a positive pregnancy test that heralded the September arrival of our small daughter. As with my first pregnancy, I ran most days right up to the end. In fact, I was only dissuaded from running in a local 6 mile fun run the day before my scheduled C-section by the horrified look my obstetrician gave me when I mentioned that I might do it. I did run 10km - privately - that day just to make my point that it would have been fine!

For various reasons I decided not to push the running until I was done with breastfeeding this time around, and of course small daughter decided that bottles were just too YUCK to be tolerated, so this put me out of racing for a full 12 months after she was born.

Because I'm me, though, I did enter and train for (in a haphazard sort of fashion) the Blackmores Sydney Half-Marathon in September 2009. Before my injury and for my return to racing in 2007, I had never followed a proper training plan and really hadn't bothered to run particularly long runs during training. I had just done whatever I felt like on the day, covered a variety of distances, and had never formally done any speedwork. Somehow this had never seemed to hold me back......until now.

The day of the race was bright and clear. I had travelled up to Sydney the night before the race, my first night away from the children in, um, ever. But despite the lack of disturbance - or perhaps because of it - I had an awful night's sleep before the race. And I was still coughing a bit from a cold that had gone on most of the winter, on and off, courtesy of my germ vector son. But I thought, whatever, I'll be fine. The 2007 race had been the scene of my PR since returning to racing, so I was confident I could run a similar time. Or so I thought.

The start was self-seeded (which I always hate) and although I lined up in the appropriate place, I was there with many over-optimistic runners who made the first mile or so an obstacle course for those who belonged up the front. Never mind, by the time we were heading across the Harbour Bridge the crowd had thinned somewhat and I was hitting my stride.

I ran the first 5km in 20:14 and the next in 20:43, putting myself on pace for a sub 1:28 finish. So far, all seemed to be going excellently well.....but then the wheels began to threaten to fall off.

By the 15km mark I had slowed to a 21:55 split. I held myself on the same pace (around 6:55 min/mile) for a 21:40 split at the 20km mark, but then the unthinkable happened. I got passed by the 90 minute pacers. SHOCK HORROR!

Even if I hadn't just taken a major hit on my confidence, I had nothing left in my legs to go after them. In fact, my pace over the final 1.2km took a nosedive down to 4:40 min/km (7:27 min/mile) from my initial 4:02 (6:28 min/mile). Crossing the finish line, my legs almost went from under me and in the video footage - which I am not going to share - I can be seen wavering off to one side, unable to even walk in a straight line. Needless to say, a major re-think of my training strategy appeared to be in order.

My official finish time was 1:30:39, good enough for 8th in my AG and 26th female overall. But for me, to have lost 3 minutes in speed over only 2 years - after losing just 90 seconds between 2001 and 2007 - was a huge blow. Whether it was the after-effects of another pregnancy, the lingering cold or just a sign that I was now 2 years closer to middle age, I will never know. Off I went home, to think about things and plot my next move. Pretty soon it was obvious: 2010 was going to be The Year of The Plan.

Running Around The World

The year in Edinburgh marked my return to both recreational and competitive running. It had been 5 years since I had raced AT ALL, but once I was back into my stride, I found myself raring to go. The UK has a large and active running community with plenty of race opportunities, and it was a great pleasure for me to take advantage of this whilst we were living in Scotland.

The first race I took part in was a 10 miler at Dundee, Perthshire, in early November 2006. My baby son was still tiny but I had made a strong return to running and managed to clock a time of 74:25, which pleased me no end. The weather was great for running - about 10C/50F and overcast - a typical Scottish day, in fact. If only their summer would have actually had some warm weather, I might have never wanted to come home again.....

Next up was another 10 mile road race, organised by the Lasswade Athletic Club. It took place near Edinburgh but on the other side of the UK winter, in early March 2007. Despite the season officially being spring, it was only 4C/39F at the start - I was freezing.

DH was waiting to take my photo at the finish but I surprised him by taking almost 6 minutes off my Templeton time, finishing in 68:38. DS was also waiting for me, all rugged up but glad to see his running Mama again.

The running season started for real in April. My first half-marathon since my big injury took place on April 1st in Edinburgh: the Forthside Half Marathon. It started near Leith in the northern part of Edinburgh and wound along the Forth of Firth, a picturesque and mercifully flat course.

I was thrilled to finish with a time of 1:27:01, only 90 seconds slower than my last pre-injury half in 2001 - and I won my age group! What a pity my small son was too impatient to allow me to stick around for the presentation........

The next two races were part of the Great Run series - these are held all over the UK and we participated in both the Great Ireland and Great Edinburgh Runs during our year in Scotland.

The Great Ireland Run - on April 15 2007 - was the perfect opportunity to pop over to Dublin for the weekend. I enjoyed the run although it did not start until 1pm, which was the latest I have ever started a race, and meant that it was uncomfortably warm by the finish (only by UK standards, not Australian!) I ran it in 41:04 and managed to come 2nd in my age group, a fact I was unaware of until they sent me my prize a few weeks later: a Nike heart rate monitor. Cool!

The Great Edinburgh Run took place on 6 May 2007 and was a very different experience. I was nervous at the start because I was seeded in a very fast group and I knew that my usual strategy of starting relatively slowly would put me very quickly at the back of the pack. I did not want to feel (or look) like an imposter, so I was feeling both apprehensive and reluctant as I lined up right up the front.

The weather was sunny and the course took in many of the historic sights of Edinburgh, but like the rest of the record number of entrants, I was too busy fighting the monstrous headwind to take much notice of the scenery......

.......like the spectacular sight of the Castle as we rounded the corner onto Princes St.......

.....or the beautiful Palace of Holyroodhouse, where Mary Queen of Scots lived in 1561 and where the current Queen officially resides when she ventures up north.

Still, I ran the windy 10K in 42:17, which to my great surprise was again enough to come 2nd in my age group and become the happy recipient of a Nike watch several weeks later. Awesome!

Somehow, 3 weeks later I was roped into being part of the Hairy Haggis Team Relay at the Edinburgh Marathon - this may have been my husband's doing, actually - and in freezing rain and howling wind (yes, spring in Edinburgh, ha ha) I ran my 9 mile leg in exactly 1 hour.

The full marathon entrants were all running at their marathon pace, so I spent the entire run zig-zagging madly around other runners; as a result my Garmin thought I had run almost half a mile further than the official distance!

In late June 2007 we drove to Glasgow for me to run the East Kilbride half-marathon. Once again, a fairly flat course made for quick times and I finished in 1:27:49. Here I am valiantly holding off a bloke who had been trying to pass me for at least the last 2 miles. Sucker!



In the end I was the third female finisher and won £100. Who knew that running in the UK could be so rewarding?!

We returned to Australia mid-August 2007 and I was happy to be able to make up for my disappointment at missing the City to Surf (yet again) by entering the half-marathon that was a part of the Blackmores Sydney Running Festival in September.

The day of the run dawned bright and clear, but at 6:30am (the official start time) it was pretty darn cold. My Scottish experience had hardened me to such things, though, and for me the running conditions were perfect. Despite self-seeding options at the start, many people ahead of me were none too fast and the start was therefore quite frustrating as I found myself constantly having to side-step and avoid slower runners. Pretty soon though we were heading across the Harbour Bridge and the crowd began to thin out.

As with so many of my overseas races and runs, this half-marathon took in some of the most famous and iconic Sydney landmarks, from the start beneath the Harbour Bridge (which we crossed in the first 2km) to the finish in front of the Opera House.

In a fitting return to the country where my love of running began, I finished the race in 1:27:02 (1:27 appears to be my lucky running number for 2007) and came 3rd in my age group.

It felt wonderful to be home again and back in top running form. I had proven my pessimistic ortho boss wrong and was every bit the competitive runner I thought might never return.

But there was more to life now than just running, and I was about to voluntarily put things on a type of hold again.......a much better type of hold.

Run Baby Run

This is, of course, primarily a running blog, but it would be incomplete without an ode to how much I love the internet. Up until that day in December 2005 - as I sat staring wide-eyed at that positive pregnancy test - the internet had been useful to me chiefly for study/work and for emailing far-flung friends. This was all about to change, but in a very cool way.

I was going to say that the first thing I did when the shock wore off was to Google "running pregnant", but on reflection I think I did one other thing first, which was to take the photo that appears at the bottom of the post below this one and email it to my now-fiance, with the subject title "DO NOT OPEN THIS EMAIL UNTIL YOU ARE ON THE PHONE TO ME". He of course ignored this advice.....but that's another story altogether.

The second thing, then, that I did was to type "running pregnant" into my browser - I had only just gotten back out there, really, and although actually quite pleased to be expecting (in an "ok, well, I guess I wanted to do this sometime, why not now?" kind of a way) I was absolutely aghast at the idea of not being allowed to run for 9 more months.

The Google search led me to this website and this sounds awfully trite, but it totally changed my life. Not only was I allowed to keep running, I found I was not the only woman who wanted to keep exercising while pregnant. I kept going and even ran an 8km race for Mothers' Day 2006 - 26 weeks pregnant at the time - and managed to still beat a certain competitive husband although my time was obviously far from my best!

(said husband formally retired from racing against me about 10 weeks later, after beating me home for the first time on a weekend morning run, retiring of course as the reigning champion.)

Ultimately I found myself posting on a thread called "Third Trimester Runners" (yes, really) and this led to a particularly 21st century phenomenon: internet friendships, or Imaginary Friends as I like to call them.

Although there were quite a few people posting on that thread, over time we became a group of just 6 and as our babies were born and we each found our way back to running, we became a kind of mothers' group to each other: daily posts about sleeping (or lack thereof), feeding and baby milestones became as common as posts about how far we were running. For me, having stopped work, had a baby and moved overseas - away from all my family and friends - all in the space of 6 weeks, these imaginary friends were very real, and an absolute lifeline of support and encouragement.

All this led in 2007 - when our babies were all around 7 months old - to a very memorable first meeting in Washington, DC (since everyone bar me was American and I was more than happy to travel over from the UK!) where we also ran a 10K race together.

That race was memorable for me in another way: it was the scene of my all-time 10K PR, 39:54.

Maybe I will better that time in May 2011, when I am planning to run the same race again, but maybe not. What I'm sure of is that at least some of my imaginary running friends - both old and new - will be there to share the day with me again, and that they will still be my friends when our babies and grandbabies are the ones doing the running....we'll be the seniors trying for entry to the wheelchair division, probably.