However more of the joys of Musselburgh later. A sizeable number of runners from East Down AC and Murlough AC made the journey to the grand Scottish setting for the series of races which make up the Festival, Tracey Teague setting the ball rolling on Saturday with a commendable 57 minutes over the challenging 10K in the shadow of Arthur’s Seat in Hollyrood Park, with the gusting wind a foretaste of what awaited the Sunday runners. However with the world forecast to end at teatime on Saturday no-one was too concerned about Sunday afternoon. As far as I know that particular event was cancelled through lack of sponsorship. But first to confirm that there was still life on earth were Frank and Bernice McCann who started in the half Marathon at 8.00sm and were finished well before the rest of us started, crossing the line hand in hand as ever in 2.15.
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In truth I was fine for the first 10 miles, exchanging hellos and farewell’s with my own clubmates and the Murlough contingent as they cruised past but the rot started to set in when Chris Moon also passed – for those of you who don’t know him he’s the guy who had an arm and a leg blown off in a landmine explosion some years ago and who runs on an artificial limb resembling a bent leaf from a rear car spring – and he quickly disappeared from view.
With runners continuously streaming past on both sides it gave the impression of being in reverse. Incredible as it might be this big city marathon route went out on one side of the road turned round a cone at about 18 miles and brought us back in again so when I began to meet all those thousands who had passed earlier as they made their way back on the other side of the road I had an attack of Deja Vu, something I had never experienced before! All it would seem just to introduce us to windy city conditions I had never encountered in Chicago.
Anyway I made it through 20 miles in 3 hours and naively still harboured hopes of breaking 4 hours! But there was nothing in my legs – no pain, no stiffness and worst of all no life. What do you threaten your legs with when they totally ignore instructions. Stopping speaking to them or vowing to leave them behind next time are not really viable options so I just resorted to a kind of shuffling gait, all the while being overtaken on both sides, even the odd walker went by.
It’s at times like those when you ask yourself a lot of serious questions about the meaning of life, your sanity, what to eat for dinner later etc but the only one which was truly answered was “Who ate all the pies?” The culprit steamed past, proudly proclaiming “Bouncing Bottom” on the back of her T shirt, but all smugness left me when it dawned on me that she had just overtaken me!!
The strong headwind, with gusts which literally stopped me in my tracks on several occasions, iterspersed with heavy rain showers and sunny itervals, made it fell like I was in a continuous wash/dry cycle in a washing machine and I expended considerable energy just keeping my cap in place, working on the basis that if it was there my head was probably there too. At around 24 miles I heard the familiar sound of Duelling Banjos coming from my rear end – not normally the most musical of sources, until I remembered having stashed my mobile phone in a back pocket earlier. It was someone wanting to know if I was nearly there yet! I said Yes or something which meant the same thing.
Carol McMenamin from Murlough offered some much needed encouragement at around 25 miles but couldn’t provide the wheels I needed. And then in a burst of sunshine the finish line was in view! My long finished and fresh looking colleagues urged me towards the gantry with shouts of “Stop loitering” and “any slower and you’ll be paying rates” but I didn’t care and couldn’t respond – but I made it. My time of 4.27 is my slowest ever but best I could do on the day but the worry is if 87 minutes for the last 10K has put my position of 60 minute pacer in next year’s Jimmy’s Ten in serious doubt.
The finish area was a shambles with hundreds queuing in a bottleneck for goody bags and the baggage buses beyond that, the reunion area 15 minutes further on in one direction and the shuttle buses back to Edinburgh a 20 minute walk away, in pre- marathon time, in the other. By the time we got there the queue was at least 400 metres long and there were only 2 buses awaiting. Despite having prepaid the shuttle we took a service bus back into town and by the time we made it back to our hotel it was time only for a quick shower and out again for dinner.
To end a perfect day I lost my phone somewhere before I got back so my mood was sombre and not improved any on Monday when wind and volcanic ash clouds caused the cancellation of our flight until 7.00am on Tuesday. Later that time was revised to 11.15am so we bedded down at the airport wrapped in Red Cross blankets, not really an ideal post marathon recovery plan, but no one needed high court injunctions to hide the details of they slept with as there was very little sleeping done Next morning when we went to check in for our flight we were told that check in for the flight was closed and scolded for missing the 7.00am flight which never went! They were seemingly unaware of the revised timing but common sense prevailed and we eventually took to the skies at 10.30.
There’s an old Scottish song which asks “Will ye no come back again?” to which the answer has to be “To Edinburgh ,Yes, To the Edinburgh Marathon, No”
So now it’s a few weeks rest and recovery, certainly for me, but already plans are being made for further marathon attempts even from those who said “never again”.]]>
