Vodafone Malta Marathon 2018

As I stood looking out from the Silent City of M’Dina down towards the coast line of the Sliema Bay area, I remembered a thought I had only two years ago stood in the same position; “I am never running a marathon again”.  Yet here I was, 30 minutes away from embarking on the same 26.2 mile journey through Matlese towns and cities with 100’s of likeminded runners, some first timers, others seasoned professionals, but despite the pace they may be running, we are all in it together.

We had arrived in Malta a couple of days earlier, Clare, baby, and Ma n Pa to a torrential down pour, definitely not the ideal running weather, but definitely the weather we had been training in for the last few months.  I say "we" as Clare had been the one to push me into competing in the marathon distance again due to taking on the 13.1 mile effort herself.

On the Saturday the rain had cleared and the sun began to shine, not too much, but better than we had experienced at home.  These were perfect running conditions.  We had a lazy day yomping around Valetta with baby and grandparents and in the evening it was time to grab some last minute carbs and head to bed early for the crack of dawn wake up call.  Our carb fuelling meal was joined by our great friends, the Beewell’s, as Ian was somehow convinced (I know it didn’t take much) to partake in his first half marathon, why not make it a sunny one!?

So here I was, M’Dina, minutes away from the start of our journey, stood with my Marathon Guardian Angel (Emma) who was taking on her 15th Marathon, but this time there was a more emotional connection to it for her.  10, 9, 8, the countdown began and the nerves settled in,
7, 6, 5, 4, I thought I would never be stood here again doing this.
3, 2, 1 “Good Luck”!!! 

As soon as we crossed the start line the slight rain that had been predicted started to fall, only gently, but just like a fine mist of cooling spray, it was perfect….but it didn’t last!

I had come prepared this time with my CamelBak filled with water and SIS tablets, gels in the storage compartments and music in my ears for the quieter first half of the race as there are no bands, very little water stations and some interesting climbs.  My pace was also reduced due to a hip flexor injury during training, so I was not racing but still pushing for a personal best.

The first few miles ticked by quite quickly, I was away in my own thoughts keeping an eye on the clock but also trying to match pacing with my printed list under my watch strap.

The first of the hills that I remember from my previous attempt seemed a lot lighter and I reached the top with no issues at all, this gave me a little boost in confidence.  The run groups were really beginning to thin out and I felt as though as was running on my own for quite a considerable amount of time.  I would occasionally glance back to see if I was completely alone.

At 14 mile the sun was shining brightly and the temperature had increased massively.  I had mistakenly paused my Garmin 235 around the 13 mile marker so my

timing was completely misaligned so I was unsure how far I had actually done and the time it had taken.  A real school boy error, but there was nothing I could do about it now except carry on regardless.  I was being passed by so many people now, I was hot, legs were aching, and my sense of humour had been left far behind.  One of the runners that seemingly zoomed passed me, acknowledged me and gave a little encouragement but soon disappeared into the horizon.

Mile 17 is where things really started to hurt.  There is a

seriously long incline that joins with the half marathon runners at the top, so you can see happy smiling people who have ran 3 mile intersecting grumpy, drained and aching marathoners who are pushing up what seems to be the monster of all climbs.  When I joined the halfers, the pain seemed to slightly dissipate and I was back on form.  For the rest of the run, the green run tags of the marathoners become a clique amidst a sea of the red and yellow of the half marathon runners and walkers.  Every time I would see a fellow green struggling, I would offer my hand to shake or high five.  The camaraderie is immense and is irrespective of language barrier.  Just that little moment of partnership brought a smile to everyone I met and myself too.

Just on the outskirts of Valetta, I saw a familiar face, my wonderful wife. Her cheeks were rosy but she always makes me smile and with my current state of mind and body a big kiss was all I needed to give me the strength to carry on…that and a little vasaline for my already painful nipples!  If you don’t run in hot weather you will not understand the pain caused by nipple chafing!

On the way into Valetta in the now searing heat, the run route takes you over four or five motorway fly overs, each one more painful than the last.  The climb to the pinnacle of the bridge is only slightly compensated with the brief descent before the next climb, it was here that my little friend from mile 14 was struggling, as I past her I acknowledged and gave indication her to follow.  The encouragement must have worked as she zoomed past again after the next flyover, and I the next, then her, we were cat and mousing over the bridges.  Every time I overtook her she would state “AGAIN?” and then smile as she took the lead.

Another friendly face was stood waiting at the entrance to Valetta, my Marathon Guardian Angel, but surely she should be running? As I stopped to make sure she was ok, Emma informed me that her run friend had collapsed and was in the ambulance at the side of the road.  Emma was waiting, disregarding her marathon personal best yet again for another runner.  “Never leave a fellow runner behind” were her words as she gently eased her fallen comrade back into a running rhythm.  Emma truly is an inspiration to all runners, and to think of it, everyone.  She will always be an angel.

Dropping down into Silema is a great experience, the crowds really seem to build up, the bands become more frequent and with the finish line in sight for the remaining four mile at every turn, and more than anything it is a massive descent.  I, again, caught up to my cat and mouse ally and saw that she was struggling.  I decided to tag along side for a chat to try and ease the pain.  Lucie (as I later found out) was running her second ever marathon just like myself, and was elated with her current pacing.  She had already, on this very run, gained a 10k, 15k and half marathon personal best and was well timed to beat her marathon time, Lucie had everything to be proud of.  Only a few days earlier, she could barely move due to an injury to her intercostal muscles and was unsure if she would actually be able to compete in the event, yet here she was ticking off personal bests.

This is one thing I love about running events, everyone is there for a reason and they all have a story to tell, and I'm always happy to listen.

Running around the bays of Silema, Lucie pulled a Czech flag from her back pack and put this round her shoulders, she was going to finish strong and finish in style.

The last couple of miles is when your legs really start to question your intentions and the pain and fatigue being experienced was excruciating.  I needed something special to help me finish strong.  The special something was not far behind and helping a fellow runner finish disregarding finish time that had been originally intended.  Emma came along side me and said, “Come on Danny, it’s time to finish strong!”

Metres away from the finish line I saw my baby girl cheering, how could I not push on? Beewell, who had completed his half marathon in a strong 2hrs 16 put his arms over my shoulders and uttered positive words of encouragement that we well needed but given the state of my mind at this point I could not tell what said.  I hugged him and pushed on.

Crossing the line of a 26.2 mile run is a reinvigorating phenomenon, all the pain, aches, mental anguish disappears within seconds and once you are presented with your medal, magic health rejuvenating banana and foil blanket.

I quickly ran to grab my daughter and give her the biggest kiss ever, I placed my medal round her neck and hugged her so tightly.  When I had ran in Malta two years ago she was only 9 days old and at home with mummy, we fought and fought to get Isabella here and she is one of the most important people in my life.  She had no idea what Daddy had done today, but she was happy to see me and that was all that mattered.  I thanked Beewell for his kind words (I knew they were supportive) and positioned myself ready to cheer in Clare. 

Clare soon hurtled towards the finish line and when she

saw Isabella, her face could have painted a thousand words and all of them synonyms of love.  For someone who never believes in herself and questioned her ability at every stage, crossing the line must have been quite an impactful moment, but I will let her tell that story.

Malta is a stunning place and the marathon will always hold a dear place in my heart, I know I want to run more marathons now as I have the fever, but I think it may be a while before I return to run here. 

You will be happy to know that Lucie finished moments after me and did achieve a marathon personal best….