Valencia Marathon - My first ever marathon - Official time 3:39:49 (5:13m/km)

Well, that was way harder than expected. And I’m not that happy about it.

Last week (https://www.strava.com/activities/12971960713) I was saying I was going to pace myself based on my heart rate (“I'm going to aim to run it at 145 - 155 bpm”). 

That went very, very well. I managed to control my pace based on heart rate the whole marathon. I didn’t care if it felt like the whole marathon was passing me. I just followed my heart rate. My final average heart rate was 164 bpm (85% of my maximal heart rate).

I also did very well at following my nutrition plan. One gel every 20 minutes. Not much merit though. Yesterday I discovered it was possible to set my watch to trigger an alarm every 20 minutes. That made following the plan very easy. 

So, why am I not that happy? 

It just felt very hard. 

Not at the beginning. 

In fact, it was not hard at all for the first 25km. I was keeping my heart rate at 145 bpm. Around that mark I started with higher doses of caffeine. In my mind I was going to accelerate my pace to a heart rate closer to 155 bpm from the 30 km mark.

But from kilometre 25 my right leg started to send me messages. 

The message was something like “A big muscle is about to give up and that is going to be very, very painful”. 

Last (and first) time my brain received that message was back in 2008. The third time in my whole life I rode a [rented] road bike. The first time in my whole life I took part in a cycling sportive (148 km, 3370m). I was second to last of the whole peloton. (the report, in Spanish, is at: https://www.unbiciorejon.com/2008/06/x-marcha-cicloturista-lale-cubino.html).

To write this report I had to Google what muscle was about to give up. I don’t know much about anatomy but it is either the Rectus Femoris, the Abductor Longus, or the Vastus Lateralis. You tell me.

My brain registered the message but I decided to keep following the plan. Heart rate at 145 bpm.

Things got worse at kilometer 30.

Now my left leg sent my brain exactly the same message. 

That’s when I decided to give up my plan of upping the pace to 155 bpm. 

My muscles weren’t hurting. It was just the threat of going to hurt a lot that made me aim to keep the pace at 145 bpm.

That was hard. That felt really hard. I know it is silly but I wasn’t expecting to suffer that much. 

It took me a huge effort to not stop at kilometer 40 when the route passed in front of our hotel.

By that time everyone was enjoying their second wind and I was just praying for this whole thing to finish. 

I didn’t really enjoy the last kilometer. Yes, there were lots of spectators by the side of the road. Some of them even called my name. I was just fearing my legs were going to give up just there. I wanted to cry.

And then, when I had the finish line in sight, I saw the clock at 3h:39m and some seconds. 

That was it. I started to cry and upped the pace with the objective to make sure I was under 3h:40m. 

If I wanted to be sillier I’d have to train for it.

I cried all the way to the exit and cried again when they gave me that medal. I guess my nickname of “pee man” (three pee stops in the marathon, not happy about that either) should change to “cry man”.

So, yeah, I’m a bit stupid. I’m not happy about finding out my first marathon was harder than arrogant me expected, but I’m happy that today I had my fastest ever 5k, 10k, 15k, 10 mile, 20k, half marathon, 30k and, of course, I managed to finish.

The run in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/13024264408/

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

 

I'm a cyclist, I am running my first marathon tomorrow and I have a few last minute questions

Should I shave my legs? For cyclists the answer is obvious, rule 33 (https://www.velominati.com/) and all that. What is it for runners? I don’t want to give a bad impression in my first appearance.

Racesuit or Skinsuit? I’m tempted to go for racesuit. The pockets will come handy to carry my gels and I probably can afford the additional drag. 

Also, on what side should I pin my race number? I saw a few runners pinning their number on their belly. Are they hiding it for any reason?

Any sock length rules I should have in mind? The Union Cycliste Internationale is very opinionated on sock length. What about the Union “Runiste” Internationale?

Is it normal to not feel any faster on your [very expensive] racing shoes? When I bought them (“All the gear, no idea” could be my religion) I was surprised they were cheaper than my winter wheels. The surprise came when Strava said I had to buy a new pair. That is when I realized their cost per mile is higher than a black cab in London. I’m a cyclist, I’m used to falling for these marketing tricks, it would just be nice to know that I’m not alone among the runners.

Are town signs locations going to be published? One of my cycling mates (JFW) is big on going for town signs early in the race and dying half way into the race. He is also running this marathon and I’d like him to have a good experience.

Kind of the same question about KOMs? I’m not a climber but another of my cyclist-become-runner mates (The Pope) is a proper mountain goat. Is he going to be disappointed? 

What is the equivalent of wheelsucking in running? Is it considered good form to sit on someone's shoes for kilometers and then outsprint that runner in the finish line? Asking for a friend.

Where do I put my Garmin? I was considering carrying it in my hand but it feels uncomfortable. 

What is the equivalent of wheelsucking in running? Is it considered good form to sit on someone's shoes for kilometers and then outsprint that runner in the finish line? Asking for a friend.

At what kilometer will it be the coffee stop? I hope they have scones.

I don’t have any questions about the helmet

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

Trying to find my marathon pace

Last Sunday I tried to find my marathon pace and my heart rate strap didn't work (https://www.strava.com/activities/12920436090).

Today, again, my heart rate strap didn't work so I removed it and relied on the heart rate measured by my watch. 

The problem was today was windy. Very, very windy. Gusty winds that didn't follow any pattern. Sometimes tail wind, very often cross winds and, what felt most of the time, head winds. 

That means that last Sunday's heart rate was useless and today's pace was useless.

So, I have decide I'm going to pace my Valencia marathon based on heart rate. I'm going to aim to run it at 145 - 155 bpm. That is between 85% and 90% of my maximal heart rate (170bpm).

I don't know what pace that would be. My best guess is somewhere between 5m15" (a 3:41:31 marathon) and 4m45" (a 3:20:26 marathon).

Finishing is a must. Finishing in that bracket would be an amazing result and I'd be satisfied with how the whole year went. 

But now that I have put concrete figures to it you can bet I'll aim for the lower one.

One week to find out. Uncomfortably excited about it.

The run in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/12971960713

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

 

A story of disappointment

Today was meant to be an intervals day. Something similar to this session (https://www.strava.com/activities/12850227840).

The problem was it only took me 20 meters into the first sprint to give up. 

Giving up in your first sprint when you are supposed to do ten of them is very disappointing. 

It didn't go down well. I sweared out loud (in Spanish, mindful of the dog walkers)

I tried again in the next lap but I gave up even earlier. 

That's the moment I started to think about quitting the whole session. 

Instead, I kept running slow and trying to sprint in every lap. I was sprinting without faith though. Giving up before the sprint started.

Disappointment with myself grew bigger.

I wasn't sprinting, I wasn't even trying. What <insert here your favorite swear word> was I doing?

I don't know. 

To protect myself I stopped thinking about it and carried on doing what I was doing, pretending to be sprinting for about 10 meters in every lap. 

Waited to cover the 10km distance and called it a day.

Do you know what adds insult to the injury? 

The moment I got home I felt great. 

So here I am now feeling fresh, energized, not tired at all (what should I feel tired of? I ask myself) and very disappointed with myself.

I know it will pass. I have disappointed myself a lot in the past. Doesn’t seem experience helps to feel any better though. 

I need an ice cream.

The run in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/12956793220/

Take care 

Javier Arias González

My journey to Valencia Marathon

This is how my training for Valencia Marathon has evolved since the beginning of the year (after, say, 35 years of not running at all).

In my mind I see two clear blocks. 

The first block goes from the beginning of the year to the end of July (first peak at 81.76 km/week). That was a seven month period where everything went to plan. Including the three weeks of no running due to riding the Bryan Chapman 600 and a cycling training camp in Granada. 

The topic of that block was increasing frecuency and volume while running mostly at 6 min/km. Most of the runs done in the treadmill with the objective to get less impact and allow my body to adapt. From march I gradually introduced running outside. From June we started the Kingston Wheelers running club sessions pushing the pace towards 5:30 min/km. 

I am happy with my consistency during that period.

The second block starts at the beginning of August. A series of BIG cycling events (1001 Miglia, training camp in California), week long trips (NYC, Barcelona), and an injury (I pushed a bit too much in my second trail run) forced me to follow the mantra of "when you can't do what you must do you must do what you can do". 

Consistency disappeared, it was replaced with the constant wonder of what to do next. How much should I run with jet lag? When is ok to get back to running after an injury? When you should increase intensity? Should I drop from the marathon and half marathon I had entered as preparation?

I am very happy with how I managed those decisions. At the end of October I was doubting I was going to be able to even run the marathon. A month later I believe I am at the right balance between excited and scared.

10 days now to Valencia. 

Take care

Javier Arias González

 

Don't ask me why

 The plan was to run "fast".

Don't ask me why. There is no good explanation for it. Yesterday night, when I went to bed, the minute I had before falling asleep, I decided I wanted to run "fast" to the office.

I was running with a watch so I was able to check what my pace was. 

And I didn't like what the watch was telling me. In my mind it was too slow.

Don't ask me why. There is no good explanation for it either. It was as fast as I ever ran to the office. In fact, looking now at Strava, I see I got a PR pretty much in every single segment. 

At the moment it was very frustrating. I was feeling I was running too slow and, at the same time, I wasn't upping the pace. 

Don't ask me why. Looking at my heart rate there was definitely room for me to up the intensity. I was just not running faster.

After a bit of reflection I came to the conclusion that it might have been a bit overambitious to think that I can get up by 6am, get breakfast (without caffeine), and go running "fast" by 6:30am.

I'll try again next time though. Even if you don't ask, I'll tell you why. I don't like the feeling of saying I'm going to do something and not doing it. Don't ask me why.

The run in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/12779292538

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González

My first ever trail run

 On Friday JFW goes: “Anyone fancy a long trail run on Sunday am?? Could head out to the hills”

I answered: “I'm tempted. How would that work? Where? When? For how long?”

I got this response: “Great - I’ll pick you up at 8.30….”

(I agree with you if you think that is not how communication between two people actually works but my English is not that great so what do I know)

On Saturday, yesterday, JFW clarified: “2-3 hours steady around polesden lacy - cross trainers best if possible?”

Here is the thing. This was going to be my first trail run, I don’t have cross trainers, I have never run for that long, I have no clue what or where “polesden lacy” is and I still answered: “Ok. I'm in”. I don’t really know why.

Move forward to today. At 8:22 JFW sent me a message (“Am outside”). It is pissing rain outside but I can’t bail now so I come out and get in the car.

We got to Effingham, got out of the car and in 30 seconds we were running.

The run was ok at the beginning. Apart from the fact that I was running on hiking shoes (Salomon X BRAZE), I wasn’t carrying any water and I had no idea for how long we were going to keep running. But we were chatting and I was having a great time.

Things got a bit tricker when JFW said “right, we are now heading back”.

Wait, what???

I don’t have a running watch so I can’t tell for sure but it certainly felt like we had been running for ages. I was getting tired.

And thirsty.

But I was still feeling ok(ish) so didn’t complain and just kept running behind him. Although we were not chatting that much anymore.

At some point we saw one of those mobile coffee vans. JFW suggested a stop to drink something. We had been running for so long that I guessed we were close to the car so I suggested we should keep running. The fear of not being able to start running again after a stop was much more powerful than how thirsty I felt (and I already played with the idea of drinking out of a puddle).

Right, he said, three more miles (that is almost 5 more kilometers for the rest of us). Turns out I had guessed incorrectly how far we were from the car.

So now JFW is doing all the talking. I run in silence. Feeling tired, very, very thirsty and the blisters in my feet growing. Not really in the right mindset to hear JFW saying “Let’s take this trail. I always wanted to learn where it goes”.

I still followed him. Uphill. Without saying a word (I couldn’t speak. Not even to ask for water).

We kept running for what felt like an eternity and suddenly JFW said “Well, it is now a long downhill to the car”.

THAT. That is what I needed to hear.

Not that I was thinking of sprinting or anything like that. I wish I would have been able to think about sprinting and winning this “race” but my thoughts were all about how tired I was, how big my blisters were going to be and how hard it would be to walk tomorrow (I knew I had a 1 liter bottle of water in the car so thirst was not a worry anymore).

So, here I am. Back home. After a shower, lunch and a siesta. Thinking I had a fantastic time.

Such a great time that I find myself asking life changing, philosophical questions.

Will I be able to ever walk normally again?

Who decided to build the toilet upstairs in my house? I need to talk to that person.

What 100 miles (more than 160 km) trail run should I enter next year?

What is the world record for the size of a blister? Asking for a friend.

The run in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/12474081248

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González 

1001 Miglia 2024

1001 Miglia is a beautiful and hard adventure. 

All Super Brevets are hard. They are all a gradual process of physical and mental self destruction. 

The legs are typically the first to go. All long distance cyclists are used to riding without legs. 

Soon other parts of your body start to give up. The palm of the hands and the feet are likely next in line. Knees are a very common one. The butt comes soon enough for everyone. You typically see some necks failing towards the end of the Super Brevets.

Some riders know where their weak spots are and try to delay the inevitable body part failure with movements and posture changes while riding. Some riders, including some of those that know where their weak spots are, will be taken by surprise and see their body fail in unexpected places. 

The mental self destruction starts with having to ride through the first night. 

For the experienced rider it doesn’t have an immediate effect. But start adding days with short sleeps and the accumulation of sleep deprivation will make every rider's brain go to places. Some, me included, get grumpy. Some have hallucinations. If you are riding with someone you can have deep, all-encompassing conversations while climbing a mountain in the early hours of the morning. If you are unlucky your brain will go all pessimistic. Pretty much everyone starts making small mistakes. I’d claim to be the only one whose brain took it to find a relationship between joining a cycling peloton and joining a sex orgy (a topic for a future post).

Keeping riding while your body is giving up and your mind is playing with you is pretty much the name of the game in a Super Brevet. 

1001 Miglia is a hard Super Brevet because the conditions exacerbate all of the above. 

The road surface is rough. Very rough at places, for long kilometers. That accelerates the destruction of the body. Butts, feet, hands, necks all start failing sooner than in other Super Brevets.

The weather also contributes to making 1001 Miglia a hard Super Brevet. Hot in general. Very hot in the central hours of the day. In this edition we got rain. Summer storms. At some point I got convinced that I got more rain in this 1001 Miglia than in my three LEL combined.  

Video borrowed from Lin5

The climbing also makes 1001 Miglia a hard ride. There is lots of climbing. Small climbs, long climbs, some of them steep climbs. A section in Tuscany full of one to four kilometer climbs. What Spanish cyclists would call a “leg breaker” terrain. 

Also, the climbing is all concentrated in a 1,000kms. That means that for a 1,000kms you find yourself going either up or down. Wishing to have some flat sections where everything will be easier.  

But when the flat section comes you realize it is not easier. You are 1,100km into the ride. Your legs, your hands, your feet, your knees or your neck are completely destroyed by then. Maybe all of them. In my case it was my butt. It was so irritated that I could pass as a mandrill if you looked at me from behind.

Hours wishing to be riding in the flat section and when it came I was wishing we were climbing. 

But the 1001 Miglia is not only a hard Super Brevet. It is also an adventure. 

Food is generally good. As you would expect lots of pasta. Lots of melon and watermelon too. 

Sleeping facilities on the other hand is the first surprise for the uninitiated. 

The organization gave a clue when with the welcome pack they gave every rider an emergency blanket. A proper sign that you are up for an adventure. 

In most of the controls you had to sleep on the hard floor. I knew that and I was ok with it. I can sleep pretty much everywhere. But any rider coming with the standards of PBP or LEL in mind was up for a hard wake up (pun intended). 

Getting to a control at midnight, expecting to find food, drinks, showers and sleeping facilities (as described above) only to find that, despite what the road book said, the control it was only a person checking you in and telling you there were none of those facilities and that you have to go to the next control (55kms away) certainly contributes to make you feel in the middle of an adventure.

The fact that that was after a long and foggy descent so you get to the control frozen to death. Is the test of your mental fortitude. 

You smile, you shrug your shoulders and you get on with it.

Getting just another storm half way through those 55km is the necessary touch of epicness that every adventure needs to have. 

Video borrowed from Lin5

One could argue that a part of an adventure is not knowing where you are going. If you follow me you know that not knowing where I am going is a constant whenever I’m riding my bike. 1001 Miglia was no exception, but not always it was my fault. The track given by the organization had a tendency to send you through the most weird “roads”. Sometimes just cutting a hairpin bend through a very steep path instead of just continuing through the main road. The route was mandatory but we learned to exercise our own judgment everytime the Garmin was asking you to make a turn that looked like a “shortcut”. A bit of a choose your own route adventure.

Now, 1001 Miglia is also a dangerous adventure. 

I mentioned rough surfaces. Those are dangerous when descending, especially during the night. Still, that is a danger riders can control (to a point).

Drivers on the other hand there is very little riders can do about them. And, believe me, drivers are dangerous in Italy. Most of them show no respect or acknowledgement for cyclists, some of them have borderline criminal attitudes towards cyclists. 

Yes, 1001 Miglia is a hard, sometimes dangerous, adventure. But 1001 Miglia is an amazingly beautiful ride. The most beautiful of all Super Brevets I have ridden. 

It is so beautiful and I loved the experience of riding it with Julian, my long distance cycling twin soul, that I don’t care if it is a hard adventure. I’ll most likely will be at the start line again in 2029.

The ride in Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/12224888604

Take care of yourself

Javier Arias González