“If anyone is feeling anxious, worried or maybe you just want a chat, please, please do not come crying to me.”

Sister Michael, Derry Girls

It feels like an age since I wrote a Race Review. The last one, it transpires, was in January, when I covered the North Tyneside 12k Trail Run.

What I do know is that I’ve really struggled to write this post. I think I’ve rewritten this whole first section half a dozen times. Honestly, if you think this intro is shit, you should have seen what got binned.

Before I cracked on with this review, I went back and re-read a blog I posted way back on the 1st January. It talked all about my motivations and expectations of training for and then running a Marathon.

It does make interesting reading. Well, it does to me, as it’s a mindset 18 or so weeks ago of someone stepping into the unknown. There’s a teeny bit of fear in there, not overtly, but you can certainly smell it.

Fast forward to May, and I’m on a plane, heading to Belfast, ready to run that Marathon. I’ve brought the family with me, a nice extended Friday to Tuesday weekend. Time for sightseeing, with a pesky 26.2 mile run squeezed in on the Sunday.

We arrive on the Friday after only a 40 minute flight. Honestly, I’ve been stuck on the Metro longer than that. I love Northern Ireland straight away. Our Taxi driver is loud and a bit mental, exactly how I like them.

Our hotel is right in the City Centre. It’s also going to be on the route of the Marathon – mile 9 to be precise. This gives the family a great and convenient spot to see me on the day. They can literally have a lie in, breakfast, then saunter outside. Don’t worry family, I’ll do all the work.

Saturday morning, after an extremely restrained breakfast where I stay well away from the all you can eat fry up buffet, I’m off to the Expo to pick up my number.

Again, the location of the Hotel is a winner here, as the Belfast ICC is only a 10 minute walk straight down the road. I couldn’t even get lost if I tried. Signs, literally, of what is to take place tomorrow are already on show.

I’ve never been to a Marathon Expo before. Obviously this one is much smaller in scale to the major ones, but it’s fairly busy and very well organised. We’ll come back to these later, but there are three separate events on the Sunday – The Marathon, The Marathon Relay, and the 8k Walk. Everyone is filtered through to the right area.

As I come in, one of the Volunteers asks ‘Marathon?’, and for the first time I get a tiny ping of nerves. It passes quickly though, and I pick up my number and pack from the lovely ladies on the desk. The nerves quickly disappear, as my instincts about this race seem to be right. I wanted my first Marathon to be fairly chilled, no drama, no stress. A short walk to a busy but not crazy Expo is a great start.

I can even leave my bag here today, which I do, to save the stress of messing about tomorrow. It’s a good start, and other than making sure I catch one of the Shuttle Buses in the morning, all of the logistical stuff is done. Easy peazy.

In the afternoon, we do the City Bus Tour. This is a great way to do some sightseeing whilst also staying off my feet. It’s also a recce for the course. The tour takes us round various parts of it, including the hilly bits, which I want to see in advance. The verdict? Hilly in parts, but nowt dramatic.

In the evening, I deploy the Eat Pasta, Run Faster principle at a lovely local restaurant. This is all going too well. I get to bed early, feeling far too relaxed and prepared with the whole thing.

I sleep surprisingly well and, much to my daughter who is sharing our rooms disgust, up at 6am to get ready and put some fuel down me. Porridge, Battle Bar, Banana. Breakfast of Champions.

I’m staying just round the corner from the City Hall, and this is where the organisers have provided free buses to get us to the start at Stormont. Again, this is well organised, and I get on one with no issues. I look around and it’s full of lots of very serious game faces. I just look out the window, still feeling quite chilled about all of this.

It’s quite a quick journey to Stormont and we’re there in no time. It’s a beautiful morning, and Stormont looks stunning in the early sun. It’s a fantastic place to start any race from.

It isn’t too busy just yet, so I head for my final toilet stop. There are only 12 portaloos, which isn’t great if I’m honest. I always find that most races, big or small, tend to balls this up. By the time we start in a hour, the plants and bushes around Stormont have had an extra water, as runners dive into anywhere to avoid the queues. I have to imagine anyone going for a nice stroll around the place later that afternoon would be enjoying the strong smell of piss.

The Start line itself is on a downhill coming out of Stormont. Again, it looks fantastic. On the TV footage that I watch later, they have a drone shot of this where it looks even more spectacular.

Two other guys from my Club are running this (they blame me for planting the seed) and we meet up and chew the fat before the race starts. This really helps with the nerves, having two familiar faces who I’ve trained with, here with me, miles from home.

You know what though, what nerves? I’m not nervous. We talk this out and realise none of us are nervous. We’re feeling confident, no fear. We’re ready, we’ve put in the miles and trust the process. I’ve got a tiny ping of excitement, which is a bit weird. Really, I should be shitting myself.

The starting pen is very relaxed. I mean, there are no pens, no barriers, just see where the pacers are and position yourself accordingly. Handshakes with my club buddies, we all go and stand where we kind of want to be. For me, that is a little behind the 4 hour pacer. I want anything sub 4:10, but I’m not nuts enough to try and do anything stupid. I promised my wife.

No, today is about running the race I trained for. Run the whole thing, no stopping, keep a steady pace to get me in the 4-0-something ballpark. The horn goes, let’s do this shit.

I’ve not mentioned the weather yet, which is weird, as I’m properly fucking obsessed with it. Well, it’s ‘perfect’ for running. Allegedly. 11c and a bit of a breeze. It’s Sunny (and it will stay that way all the way through) but it will never get warmer than 12-13c.

As soon as I come out of Stormont, the crowds are great. This will be repeated throughout the course. Whilst there are only 4,000 of us running the full Marathon, there are another 18,000 doing the 5 leg Relay.

I feel good. My head and my body feel like they’re in the mood. I hit my pace and keep it as well. Canny start. The first Relay changeover is just after 4 miles and it’s carnage.

There are SHITLOADS of runners waiting for a baton changeover. How they spot people I have no idea. Full Marathoners are told to keep right by Stewards, Relay runners to the left, but there’s lots of criss-crossing and it’s a miracle I don’t get tripped. Thankfully, as the race goes on and the field opens up, the four remaining change overs are far calmer.

At mile 5 a runner saunters up beside me and starts to chat. His name is Nick, and he currently lives about 3 mile up the road from me. He spotted my club vest so knew I was local to him. So begins the start of a new friendship, forged over the next 21 miles.

In fact, Nick used to run for my Club. He’s in Northern Ireland as this is where is wife is originally from. He’s going to be moving here permanently in the next year or so. He’s also more of a Triathlete these days, but is a Marathon veteran. He’s running after just recovering from a stress fracture in his foot, can he tag along with me?

So from here till the finish (spoiler alert) it’s me and Nick. The next few miles fly by. We cut through Ormeau Park at mile 7 which is a nice change in scenery. This is also the only part of the course we will see again – we’ll finish here. That’s still another 19 miles away however..

We’re now heading into the City Centre, mile 9, and the spot where my family will be. I come round the corner, hang right, and I spot them straight away. My daughter takes a few photos, including the one below. It’s great to see them, and my wife points out later that I hit this section at exactly the time I told her I would. So far, so good.

We’re now heading out of the City and into South Belfast. We pass the Rise Sculpture and Windsor Park, as we drop further South and hit the half way point. I suddenly feel great, and Nick and myself pick up the pace a bit.

We’re about to hit an interesting section of the course, heading towards North Belfast via the Falls Road and the Shankhill Road. If you know your history of Belfast and the ‘troubles’, you’ll recognise these as famous, or infamous depending on your views, places of cultural importance.

We’re starting to climb for the first time as well. Very subtlety, but it’s definitely there. The crowds are still out in their droves and are noisy and encouraging. Throughout the course, I hear a few shouts for my club vest. It’s lovely support, and much appreciated.

Between the Falls Rd and the Shankhill Rd, we go through the gates and into the Peace Wall. Again, the cultural and historical importance of this is not lost on me. It’s also the start of some real testing and steady hills. We’re going to have about 2 miles of this.

The support both sides of the wall is fantastic. I hate to get all wanky, but it really is a humbling experience as I run along the wall. Just thinking about how different a place this was, even in the 90s, to how it is now. I’m not naive enough to think it’s all sunshine and lollipops between the two sides now, but I certainly wouldn’t have entertained doing a Marathon in this city 30 years ago. It’s come a long way.

We push through these hills, from around 17-19 mile, and we’re onto the most northerly part of the course – The Water Works. This is the old and decommissioned reservoir that used to serve the city. It’s now a nice park.

In fact, I’m told that this is where the first ever Parkrun in Northern Ireland took place. I can see why, with its waterside path and rolling hills in the background, it’s a lovely place for a run. Maybe not when it’s at mile 20 of a Marathon.

Last 10k to go. This is it. We pop out of the Water Works and a lady shouts at us ‘you look fabulous lads.’ And you know what, I think we probably do. I feel ok. The legs are a little tired, but not to the point where I feel like I’ll need to stop. My pace is steady and on target. If anything, it’s going too well.

We’ve now got some lovely downhill as we head South East back towards the finish in Ormeau Park. We’ll go via the river Tow Path, then round the outside of the park, before cutting in for the finishing straight. The Tow Path, at around 23 miles, is the first point I notice runners pulling up. I’m not going to do that though. I mean, look at me, I’m not even sweating.

Off the Tow Path, we’ve got a testing mile coming up – the Ormeau Rd. I was expecting this, a mile of steady uphill. This section is tough, but it’s where the crowd play their part. There is a tight funnel of people on the road, all shouting us up it. It’s amazing. I feel like I’m on a mountain section of the Tour de France. My legs are a bit tired, but I’m pushing through strong and the supporters are really driving me on.

Suddenly, we’re reached the top of the climb, it’s a sharp left, and we’re dropping down a hill on the other side of the park. This is mile 26, the last one, and the realisation hits me that I’m going to make it.

I’m going to run a full Marathon, without stopping, and it looks like at the pace and time I was after. Any drop in energy, or weariness in my legs, disappears. Nick and I shake hands while we run this stretch, thanking each other for the company and the mutual help getting through it.

Once again, the crowds are plentiful and loud. We come into the Park and can see the finish. I’m punching the air as I come in. Afterwards, when I check all of the photos, I find as usual that 99% are shit. But the one below is a doozy. Hang it in the Louvre.

I glide over the line, arms outstretched, with a time of 4:06:39. Get. The. Fuck. In. Unofficially (but factually), I hit 26.2 in 4:05:33. Right in the wheelhouse of what I was aiming for. Nick and myself give each other a big hug. That’s about as emotional as I get. I should be crying, jumping up and down, something like that. But instead, a big manly ‘thank you’ hug is all I need or want. Cheers Nick.

I receive my medal, and I think it’s a beaut. Same with the finishers top. Modelled here later in the hotel after my wife made me pose so she could send it to randoms.

I bid Nick goodbye as he wanders off to find his wife, thanking him once again and wishing him luck. The two other guys from the club spot me and again it’s big man hugs all round. They have also had blinders. The club WhatsApp group has been live tracking us throughout, and it’s mad to check it and see in real time everyone’s rooting for us hundreds of miles away.

We feel so good, we skip trying to get on a shuttle bus back to the centre, and just walk it. It’s a 20 minute walk, but I couldn’t give a shit. I still seem to have energy, the legs haven’t given up. I think it’s adrenaline.

My daughter meets me outside the Hotel and it’s more hugs. I’m enjoying the hugs. I have a glorious shower then pop down to the bar where I down a Guinness. Because I can.

After some recovery yoga and a nice little nana nap, the family head to the Europa for a celebration meal. I burned 3,400 calories today, I intend to replace them. I have the Fish, Chips, and Mushy Peas. It’s Heaven. I wash it down with more Guinness, then stuff my face with Sticky Toffee Pudding. Again, because I can.

We finish the long weekend on the Monday by going to the Titanic Museum, which by the way is brilliant. My quads are a bit stiff, but other than that I’m in good nick.

What a Weekend. I don’t know whether the stars aligned, Lady Luck was shining, or someone above (or below) was on my side, but everything seemed to come together. From travel, to prep, to race, to finish.

Would I do another one? Probably. Would it be Belfast? It’s a good shout. For now, it’s time to take stock, and concentrate on the shorter stuff I have in the next few weeks and months.

For reference, here is the course as published by the organisers.

..and how it looks on my Strava. Snap!

Thank you Belfast. You were magnificent.

Mood: Elated.