My rehab marathon: Southampton

I didn't feel nervous or anxious before or at the start, I slept really well the night prior to the race, and I credit the training for creating this feeling of calm.  I was ready, and took it slow even at the start (though that was the fastest part for me).

As it turns out, every minute counted because I came in only just under 10 minutes less than my absolute backstop time of 6 hours (my race time on the chip was 5:51).

But Southampton was what made this run so fun.  That's just what it was, really, a fun run and a tour of this small port city.  It is a beautiful place, with lovely breezes and a variety of unique features including the impressive Itchen Bridge, which I crossed four times in the course of the race. (I'm told by a Runnymede Runner that in previous years they just crossed the bridge and came right back over, but luckily this year there was a nice 'little' 5k-ish scenic loop on the other side).

Because it is a lovely city, there were people streaming along the sidewalks, pavements, and at the edge of the route.  In residential areas they had pulled up chairs to the curb and balcony AND stayed there throughout the race.

The city was blooming, it had frequent cooling breezes (and subtle hotspots), and a whole bunch of friendly people feeling like instant friends to offer small treats, water, or a quick mist spray to keep us pushing on through a pretty hot day.

The runners were a pretty chatty bunch too, and I found a bit of a crew especially through the last stages.  We were just kind of mixed in with the general population in the part through the park, a few of us with our race numbers limping along among the dogs, prams, and families.

Parts of the end were a walk in the park, but what was I thinking?  I had to keep up the pace, that was for sure.  I calculated frequently in my head or out loud to myself, realized I'd be OK, took water when I needed it and when I could (OK it was HOT!).

The final 1/2 km comes and I'm still having a range of new experiences: saw a racer (again) who'd been in the same race as me three weeks ago (Magna Carta) now doing her 2nd marathon; realized my eyes were (joyfully) tearing up to be finishing my own first 26.2miles, coming down that last few metres; being met by a concerned motivator to ask if I was OK, and me saying yes through blurring eyes on wobbly legs; realizing just that this was the case; then seeing my wife Diane as the finish line finally loomed (a good 1/3 to 1/2 mile past where it should have been in my opinion), and pushing on past that final photo-op (saying Happy Birthday to her to as it was her actual birthday) to stand on my feet on the other side.

What a long and incredible journey.

(Postscript: I went for a 5km run two days later and was pain-free, running at 10min/mile pace, so I think the marathon was literally some kind of rehab run)