A training run in Reykjavik

After spending a relaxing Friday at the Blue Lagoon (not the chippy) followed by the most expensive plate of pasta I’ve ever eaten, race morning came and the signs were promising. It was an early start, 8.40, and it was bright and sunny with little wind to speak of. As I made my way to the start I thought I better come up with some kind of race strategy. I was definitely not going for a PB but I figured I would be able to go through halfway in 1.22 and try and hang on for 2.45, although I fully expected the wheels to come off due to the lack of miles in my legs.

Both the half and the marathon set off at the same time and I soon found myself in a group of 4 who were ambling along at just the right pace, unfortunately they were all doing the half and after 11.5 miles the course split and I headed off myself, almost literally. I passed one runner after 12 miles and made it to halfway in 1.21, feeling not too bad. Over the next 5 miles there was no one in sight and I at times I thought I’d gone the wrong way, fortunately the odd high viz vest came into view which eased my concerns and let me focus on my pace, which was definitely getting faster, despite numerous vocal attempts to slow myself down.

At the 17 mile point I finally caught another 2 runners and hoped to hang on to the back of them and get a breather, but they were slowing slightly so I just pushed on and attracted the attentions of a steward on a bike who led me home for the last 9 miles. Around this stage I had fully expected to be struggling and I was concerned about the distinct lack of runners to keep me going, it really was feeling like a very hard training run. Once I got to 20 miles I was still managing to hold roughly 6 min miles and I tried to use a spot of amateur psychology to get me through the remainder of the race. The race was 22 miles, only 2 to go, stay strong, don’t disappoint the cyclist by slowing down. I made it through the first section in one piece, now the race was 24 miles, only 2 to go, I was feeling it now but the crowds were growing and I was starting to get curious about my position in the overall race so I dug deep. 24 miles done, now 1 mile at a time, get to 25 and the race is over I kept telling myself, one last swig of powerade and I pushed on towards the last mile. Mile 25 out the way and still moving forward, I realised that I might still get sub 2.40 if I kept the pace up, here goes nothing I thought. A 5.50 mile later, my fastest of the day, but I was still nowhere near the finishing line, which I eventually crossed at 2.40, with my watch showing 26.4 miles. All in all pretty chuffed considering my limited training. And here’s where things get interesting….

No sooner had I crossed the line a wee lady approached and congratulated me for coming 3rd, could I write my name on this bit of paper please, quite difficult to do straight after a marathon. I was then handed a back stage pass for the presentation area, my 15 minutes were upon me. I spent the next 30 mins milling around the backstage area trying to sound like a proper runner in the company of the 1st and 2nd place runners, 2.29 and 2.33. Then one very strange pronunciation of my name later I was thrust on to the stage to muted applause only to be followed by the largest cheer of the day for the 2nd place runner who was a local. There were several bags and envelopes thrust into my hands and it took a while to get through it all, the usual running bits and bobs, a voucher to come back and run the race again and a trophy in the form of the most disgusting glass candlestick I’ve ever seen. However, to make up for the ropey glassware I was also given a debit card with 40000 krona, about £280, loaded on it.