XXIV | Chasing Hell

 The Taupo Marathon was the first time I've been disappointed from a result within an official race. As stated in my previous blog entry, my ambitious goal was to get a time of 3:30hrs or less. Even with some solid training behind me, I would have been amazed if I reached this goal at this event. Ultimately it wasn't meant to be, with my finishing time being 4:18hrs - my worst performance in a marathon yet.

I wrote this marathon off before I even started the race. I had just one month to carry on my form from the Wellington race. I spent one week recovering from that, then had the flu for over two weeks and still didn't feel too flash by the time Taupo came about. There wasn't much training at all during this period, so I was hoping for a sub-4 hour time at the least. Despite saying that I had dismissed any kind of expectation from this race before it even started, it's needless to say that it all still stings when you don't get close to a goal.

I originally planned on taking this run at an easy pace on the day, and if I had plenty of gas in the tank in the latter stages of the race - then I’d put more effort in if the body can take it. But then I thought as I was running within the first couple of kilometers, fuck that... I've written this marathon off anyway, let's see what I can do. I caught up with the 3:45 pacers, and figured I'd hang out next to them for a while. I would have been very happy with a 3:45 time. But the thought of the sticky note on my wall...

"TAUPO MARATHON 2/8

GOAL: SUB 3:30"

My body felt better than I expected, but it was still far from the ideal condition that I would have liked. Thinking back, I'm surprised that I decided to say fuck it and push my efforts even further while knowing this. I put more pace in, and went far beyond the 3:45 pacers. I was excited. Taupo was beautiful, the track was fun (despite knowing that I had to do it twice), I was happy. It wasn't until the 17km mark where I began to have concerns. This isn't good... I'm struggling far more than I should be at this point... this is what I should be feeling after the 26km mark, not 17km... There was no particular pain or ache that bothered me, but I know my body well enough with these long runs to know that I'm not going to able to keep this up all day. This is when I truly knew that things weren't going to go how I wanted them to. I managed to hover around the 4:50-5:10 average km/pm for the first 25km, but after that - things started to go from bad to worse. My back was giving me grief, I became slack with my physio exercises since I had gotten the flu - so shouldn't have been surprised at this. More to my surprise was the condition of my left leg. My left quadriceps muscle felt like it was going to pop at the 30km mark. I'm not sure if I was just imagining things, but it felt like a swollen ball when I'd run my hand across it. If you look at my Strava records of this race, you'll see my pace start to drop of drastically from out of nowhere. I couldn't run quicker than a 6:50km/pm. I started to walk every now and then. I just couldn't maintain a proper stride without thinking that I was going to do legitimate damage to my quad. If I was a couple of kms from finishing, then maybe I’d risk it. But not as I’m approaching the final quarter of the race. My body has gotten in some states from these runs many times, that's all part of it. But I was genuinely scared to test this one too much. Once these issues began to really affect me, around 31-32km in I saw the 3:45 pacers run past me. "Fuck."  I accidentally said out loud. Knowing that I had no chance of keeping up with them. Had I maintained my previous pace I'm guessing I would have gotten a time in the mid-late 3:30's seeing as it took some time for them to catch up with me after I slowed down dramatically. Then the 4:00 hour pacers ran past, then more insultingly the 4:15 ones... with each pacer running past, my head would drop further. I managed to put a decent effort in to my final kilometer thanks to some adrenaline I felt from the crowd. I was desperate to not look like a sad sack of shit finishing that race.

My head was in a very different place compared to my previous marathons. Had this been my first marathon, I probably wouldn't have been bothered because it was my first one. In fact, it all went quite similarly to my first one. But this is the first time where I felt like I had truly failed, as if I had lost - not that you can really lose in a marathon, but there are expectations. I never let the fire within me die out in Brighton, there was no chance of feeling like I'd lose regardless of the effort I'd put in. Each time I'd slow down, I'd quickly get back on that horse. In Wellington I had confidence and patience during the race. I knew what I had to do to reach my goal. With Taupo, it was already a write off in my mind thanks to the events leading up to it. But rather than playing it safe, I decided to take a risk - one that did not pay off. Or did it?

When people would ask me how I went in this marathon, I would say "Fucking shit, wasn't too happy with the result."  The general response I would get to this would be along the lines of saying how incredible it is to run a marathon, and that no one can take this one away from me. It's another one for the books, despite the result. I could see where people were coming from, and they aren't wrong. But if I agree and think like that - then I will never reach the heights in running that I want to. I want this to piss me off. This does piss me off. I was so angry with the way that I acted in the final 10km of the Taupo marathon. My head dropped, my heart sank - once I realized that this marathon was going to be my worst performance yet, I basically gave up. Despite being in a considerable amount of pain physically, it was my mind that took the most damage from this race. In light of this, I had a lot of time to think and reflect on what I did wrong and what I need to do to improve for the future. I'm no expert, but can take educated guesses based off how my body reacts to certain points of running. Got a solid ticker, but the body needs some work to keep up with that ticker- can tell you that for free. Don't get me wrong, I am still salty towards this result. But I did learn from this, and believe that I will benefit from this experience in the long run. Things aren't always going to go to plan with these events at the end of the day. I think it's just as well I've learned this sooner rather than later.

In the end, I had a solid trip over in Taupo with some good mates. We ran, talked a bunch of bullshit, drank plenty of piss and ate plenty. A couple of the lads that were meant to do the marathon with me unfortunately had to drop out last minute. Cameron's body decided to have him stay in hospital for a while just days before what was meant to be his first marathon. I do feel for him, and hope he bounces back to smash a marathon when he's fit and healthy again. Pita decided that since his Mrs had the flu, then that meant he was unavailable to run his first marathon. Haven't quite forgiven him there. Jokes aside - Ben, Crabbe, and I all had a good time and decided that we need to do more trips like that more often.

As I write this, I can't help but almost laugh at being disappointed from a marathon performance. Three years ago was when I properly started my running journey. I became obsessed with doing 10km runs regularly, but anything beyond that felt like some seriously hard yak at the time. I thought how incredible it would be to be able to run a half-marathon. Once I did that for the first time towards the end of 2022 I thought, how on earth - no, why on earth do people do this?! Now here I am, having the nerve to bitch and moan about how I did in my third marathon - my second one in the space of a month, before I run my first Ultra-Marathon in just over two months time. Quite the journey so far, huh. 

I want people to understand that I want to be an absolute weapon at running. I'm often so unsure of what I want from life, but this, this - I need. The places that running takes the mind and body for me is a thing of beauty. I don't want people to think oh wow, he's quick! I want people to think Jesus fucking Christ, how?! I see the results from the likes of my cousin Gavin who achieved a sub 2:57hr marathon last month, and does crazy 100km+ races. Some time ago I decided that I will become the fastest and most mentally unstable Gower in the family after becoming aware of what he does. Results like that, I just can't even fathom of attaining right now, the same way I didn't believe that I would get to where I am with running today three years ago. It's incredibly exciting to think about.