‘Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go’ – that was the quote from T. S. Elliot which was written on the back of the Brighton Marathon finisher t-shirt. Collecting both my bib number and finisher t-shirt on the Saturday before the race, those words seemed to fit perfect for how I was going to approach my own Brighton Marathon race. The past 16 weeks of my marathon training had gone as well as I could have asked; I knew I had improved my speed over longer distances and I felt strong. If I ran well I truly felt I could be challenging a sub 3:40 time and a new PB, however I also knew that the marathon is an unknown beast no matter how prepped you feel. If I wanted to challenge and test myself, I needed to be prepared to take a risk.

After the scorching heat of last Spring’s London Marathon, I was pleased to wake on Sunday morning to a cool crispness in the air, with a gentle Spring sunshine appearing sporadically through the clouds. It almost appeared like perfect running conditions… almost (more on that to come!) My sister and her boyfriend had accompanied me for the weekend and were taking part in the Brighton 10k which precedes the marathon start, so I had company as I walked to the start village in Preston Park, set further into the centre of Brighton. I felt quite relaxed and the atmosphere at Preston Park seemed on a similar level; friendly and calm, which is very unlike the start of some marathons I have completed. I soon had to wave my race buddies goodbye as they took their spots in the 10k start pens – I hoped to see them out on route as they would be finished in time to assume spectating duties. As the 10k was started and I watched a stream of runners head towards the seafront, I suddenly felt quite emotional. I am not really sure why, it might have been the moment when it hit me that it was now my time, and the moment all the weeks of hard work had culminated for.

Time passed quickly and I was soon assuming my own spot in the marathon start pen. I felt calm again now, chatting to a few other runners and not letting nerves take over. It was only when they walked us to the start line and started the countdown timer that I felt some nervous energy suddenly bubble inside me; it was time to be brave.

The ‘go’ signal was given, and after I crossed the line, the course probably extended about 200m before it turned up a long gradual hill – what a start for my first impression of the Brighton Marathon! What also dawned on me very quickly in these early stages was that Brighton loves it’s marathon. Residents and supporters lined the streets throughout the race, even in parts I probably would not have expected, and it truly felt like something the entire city was on board with; I felt that passion.

After the hilly starting mile, the course then weaved down to the seafront for the first 5 miles, with a couple of other testing little hills thrown in for good measure. Entering the seafront almost adjacent to the famous Brighton Pier, the course then took a sharp left turn to begin the first long ‘out and back’ section to a place called Ovingdean. When making this turn it was instantly apparent that in the ‘out’ direction there would be a fairly strong headwind. At this point relatively earlier on in the race it felt bearable…

At 6 miles I spotted my sister and her boyfriend as planned, and their photos capture the beaming smile on my face (see image). I was running well at this point; my splits so far had been just over 8 min/mile pace. This was probably a fraction quicker than I had planned, but I felt good so kept with it. I maintained this pace until the turn point at around 9.5 miles, and then all the way back to the half way point just after the Pier. My pace pleased me as this ‘out and back section’ was also rather undulating along the cliff top, and the snake of runners in the distance had particularly emphasised each rise and fall. Despite the wind and the hills, it was a beautiful place to be running set next to the lapping sound of the sea.

After passing the half way point my quads tired a little, probably a combination of my pace and the hilly course so far. At fourteen miles the route then jutted inland slightly for another four-mile-long ‘out and back’ section. I slowed slightly here, my pace now hovering closer to 8.30 min/mile. My limbs felt a little weary, but also the ‘out and back’ nature demoralised me slightly. Seeing mile markers on the other side of the road evoked a bit of a ‘so near yet so far’ feeling. This section was also set on some gradual inclines too – in all honestly, I had underestimated the hilly challenge Brighton would present. I did not panic that my pace had dropped though, I knew I had banked a lot of time in the early stages, and just wanted to steadily keep moving. I hoped I may be able to draw on some grit to finish a few of the final miles strongly – well, that was the plan anyway!

Mother Nature can be cruel at times and from 20 miles onwards it seemed to hate us Brighton Marathoners. Miles 20-23 I had heard much about, another ‘out and back’ section with the turnaround point at a power station – let’s face it, it doesn’t sound that inspiring! The lack of inspiration did not bother me, it was the wind that now played a huge factor; it had built in momentum considerably and was now a true force to be reckoned with. It instantly sapped my tiring body, my pace heading closer to 9 min/mile. Just after 21 miles the course turned at said power station to start a long near 5 mile stretch back along the seafront, back to the Pier, and toward the finish line which was located shortly after. After all these ‘out and back’ sections it is probably hard to remember which way us runners were facing at this point – but these final 5 miles were set against that head wind again, which was now at a level I can only refer to as soul destroying. It was honestly brutal. My planned grit had to be drawn on, but not to pick up my speed, just to keep battling.

​I gave up on my pace soon after mile 22, it didn’t matter what my watch screen told me, I could not go any faster if I tried. I could sense the weather had hit everyone with the same crushing force, no one was overtaking me, it was not like I had overdone it, we were all just struggling to get to the line. A spectator tried to lift our spirits saying she wished she could turn the wind off – there was nothing anyone could do though except try and keep going. I read a newspaper report from the elite female winner after the race, she described the same feelings and sensations in this final stretch of the course, and this reassured me further that it was indeed brutal.

Race week has arrived and today I travel down to the South coast for my next 26.2 mile adventure. I may not be flying across to the other side of the world for this marathon, and to some the adventure may be a little less impressive than exploring a new country - but it means a lot to me. 

Over the past 16 weeks I have trained hard - and by using the word 'hard' I do not just mean logging lots of miles. Looking back on my last block of marathon training leading up to Sydney Marathon in September, personally I was in quite a difficult place - I was hurting emotionally and my running was one of the main things which kept me going. I am stronger now, happier and I have had to learn to let go of certain things in my life. This has all meant I have had the energy and focus to train smarter. I have been sleeping far better, which is essential when my alarm goes off at 5.30am most days for weekday runs, and my diet has improved, whereas last year I was eating far too much chocolate to both fuel my running and to try and make me feel better. Thanks to some icy training weeks I have finally learnt the real benefit of taking those easy runs 'easy' - in fact I often look forward to them now. My long runs have been focused, and whilst my speed over shorter distances seems to have slipped a little, I have felt stronger than ever when running more miles. I have also paid attention to rest, particularly in the afternoon after those big training runs, and have learnt to cope better relaxing in my own company rather than trying to keep busy.

I know I have done all I can, and I guess the next big question is what does that result in a time. I have been asked what I am aiming for a lot this week, and I have been honest with my reply - I have trained with a PB in mind, which would be sub 3:40, and that's what I will be trying to achieve. It scares me; but I know deep down if I run well I can do it. If I do not go out and try run that time, I think I will be more disappointed than if I do not achieve it. A marathon is never a given, but if I never allow myself the chance to try, I will never know what could be possible. ​

​Seven years ago an extremely nervous and naïve 20 year old version of me lined up at the start of her very first race. Wearing all the wrong gear but having trained hard (I always liked training!) I was ecstatic to complete my first ever race - the Lincoln 10k. Fast forward 7 years and I am yet to miss an event in my now home city. As the years have passed my confidence, knowledge and performance as a runner have enhanced in almost equal measure to how much I just love Lincoln 10k day. I think it is fair to say I now have a reasonably strong presence in the Lincoln running community, as well as being part of a number of other personal and professional networks across the City. Therefore, the more people I know who take part in the event, and who also line the streets to cheer on runners, makes it extra special, as I get to share my passion with others – Lincoln 10k day will always remain one of my favourites of the year.
 
Across my years of participation, the Lincoln 10k has seen a variety of performances; there have been PBs, triumphs of going ‘sub something’ for the first time, surviving the heatwave of last year, and some years when a Spring Marathon has often affected how I approach the race. This year it was the latter again. My mindset was different - with Brighton Marathon only a week away I did not want to race. I did not want to have the fear of injury/overdoing it spoiling my race enjoyment, and I also did not want to spend the next week trying to recover from a 10k race when I was supposed to be tapering and rebuilding ready to race 26.2 miles.
 
On race morning I walked to the start alongside my sister, who was visiting for the event, and my friend from work, who was also taking part. The 11am start time of the Lincoln 10k is always a strange one for me; living relatively close to the race start I do not need to leave my house with much time to spare, and it is all almost too easy. My friend had parked at my house and I was pleased when she arrived as the waiting time was starting to make both my sister and I begin to feel nervous for no real apparent reason! As soon as we arrived at the race village the Lincoln 10k buzz hit me though; faces I recognised were everywhere and I started to chat to a number of people I knew or recognised from the Lincoln running community. Since my friend had entered the 10k I had been offering to run with her – a cyclist first and foremost - her last 10k had been in a time just over an hour. I was really pleased when she took up my offer on race day; selfishly because it meant I knew I would not be racing, but also as I wanted her to achieve her goal and deep down I knew she could do very well.
 
The organisation of the event this year was a little less slick than normal (more on that to come) and as we shuffled to the start pens it was clear it was a bit chaotic trying to get runners in the pens. I pushed my sister into one right at the front – she had trained well and was chasing a sub 45-minute time and I did not want her to get caught up in any start confusion. I squeezed her arm as we left her and told her to be confident – again I knew she could do it and I just wanted her to believe. My friend and I then headed back to try and get in the pack a little further down; it was not the simplest of tasks, but finally we got amongst the starting crowds, ready for the ‘go’ signal to be given.

As soon as we crossed the start line I already had a large smile on my face; I had worked out what pace we needed to run in order to go under an hour, but although I did not tell my friend this, I knew we could do better. A slight hold up in proceedings came very early on in the race as the route made its first turn. The bend is always tight, but this year it came to a complete bottleneck which forced the field to come to a total standstill. It widened out afterwards, but the stoppage definitely caused some frustrations, and I do understand why.

​Running side by side with my friend I felt at ease physically, as the pace was comfortable for me, but inside I felt full emotionally and mentally. Going a bit slower meant I really could appreciate the Lincoln 10k and the support from the sides. People I knew cheered me on, and I also was able to pick out faces I also recognised and shout out to them. I had not paced anyone running before – my friend must have had a lot of trust in me! – but I decided I did not want to keep telling her paces, times etc. I wanted her to enjoy the experience, so instead I chatted to her for most of the beginning sections of the race, pointing out key milestones, giving a few hints about the route ahead, and trying to generally keep encouraging her. I glanced at my watch occasionally and knew we were running very strongly, well ahead of target pace, and the more miles we ticked off, the happier I grew for how well my friend was doing.
 
The second half of the race my friend had to dig deeper, I knew I was asking more from her now, but as I actually said to her, I knew she has a strong mental character and could hold on. When her legs started to hurt I told her all she needed to do was keep moving, and I reinforced we were still running very well and not to worry if she needed to slow a little – just keep moving. She held strong. As we ticked off the final streets and the remaining miles became less, we then started a quest to spot the Cathedral – who we affectionately call ‘Cathy’ - on the horizon, which would also indicate the finish. When the structure appeared, I think the realisation hit that we were going to do it, especially as the final hundred metre markers also popped up at the side of the course. ‘Come on’ I urged my friend ‘last push!’ – and she duly began to sprint to the finishing arch almost catching me unaware! We did it – 55:01 and a massive new PB for my friend. I was so proud of her, it was almost a little overwhelming how pleased I was that she had achieved her goal, and in comprehensive fashion. We shared a delighted hug at the finish line, and I squeezed her with a mixture of emotion and enthusiasm at what she had just achieved.
 
As we walked from the finish, we met my sister who had patiently waited for us. ‘How did you do?’ I asked eagerly. ’44:04’ she replied – her own PB and her first-time going sub 45 minutes. I affectionately punched her arm a few times telling her I knew she could do it and I was proud – sisterly love. I say sisterly, I think the fact we are actually twins had confused a LOT of people throughout the race. My sister recounted the number of people who had cheered her on as ‘Alice’ and even people I know on the start line who were chatting to her without realising it was not even me – twin problems!
 
I absolutely loved the race, running with a huge smile on my face throughout, and another friend who had been spectating commented that it was good to see me looking so happy. I genuinely was. For my first time pacing I really enjoyed helping someone else achieve, especially a friend. My friend messaged me later in the day to thank me again, saying she would not have got the PB without me. I told her it was a pleasure to run with her, but that she needed to give herself credit for the PB - she did the running, I just did the talking!
 
Two PBs, three equally happy runners – another memorable Lincoln 10k. ​

The first week of tapering and for the first time in many a marathon training cycle I have felt ready for this taper - I know I have worked hard in my training and now I need to reduce my workload to feel fresh ready to race. For this reason I was determined that although this week featured a race very special to me – the Lincoln 10k - I did not want to be racing.

MONDAY: a final Body Pump session before the marathon - I used to keep weight training right up until a few days before my goal marathon race, but I have gradually learnt that this has no benefit on my race performance and to give my body a break. 

TUESDAY: an enjoyable interval run - probably because of the fact it was only 5 miles and the rep length was tough, but not to a hideous level. I ran 10 x 400m reps with 100m recoveries and was pleased to see a few sub 7 min/mile paces amongst the interval efforts. 

WEDNESDAY: the lighter Spring mornings meant I could again venture on some more rural routes with my friend - although there was definitely a wintery chill in the air which meant I had to dig the gloves back out! Initially the pace felt quick for me, and for the first time I was worried I was not going to be able to keep up with my friend, but I settled and enjoyed. Reviewing our splits afterwards I could see we had ran relatively fast over the near 8 miles we ran, logging splits of 7.27, 7.14, 7.14, 7.35, 7.39, 7.35 and 8.22 min/mile - the latter a big long hill at the end!

THURSDAY: an easy paced 6 miles - my quads felt a little tired, possibly after two back to back harder run.

FRIDAY: with the Lincoln 10k at the weekend and planned volunteering at Lincoln parkrun on Saturday, I ran another easy run. It was 'only' 3 miles and it felt a little unnatural to run relatively short and steady, but I know it is what I need to do.

SATURDAY: Rest Day and volunteering at Lincoln parkrun handing out finish tokens with my sister who was visiting for the 10k. This was my 24th volunteer stint - one more to go to claim my purple milestone t-shirt!

SUNDAY: Lincoln 10k day! 7 years ago I lined up for my first ever race in my now home city and I am yet to miss an event since. As the years have gone on, the more people I know who take part in the event has seen my love for it grow further - sharing your passion with others is always special. This year my mindset was different - with Brighton Marathon a week away I did not want to race. I did not want to have the fear of injury/overdoing it spoiling my race enjoyment, and I also did not want to spend the next week trying to recover from a 10k race when I was supposed to be rebuilding ready to race 26.2 miles. I was therefore very happy to be able to run alongside my friend from work and help pace and support her to try and run a sub 1 hour time.  Full blog to follow - but I absolutely loved the race, running with a huge smile on my face throughout, encouraging my friend and appreciating all the support I received from friends and people I knew who had lined the streets. Together we finished in 55:01 - a massive new PB for my friend; I was so proud of her and shared a very delighted and emotive hug at the finish line. I was also very proud of my sister, who we found at the finish and who had logged her own PB - although I think the fact we are twins had confused a LOT of people. Poor Sophie had been confused as me on a number of occasions! She has been training hard for this race though and deserves her own recognition. Another Lincoln 10k day which did not disappoint. ​