Dubai Marathon 25th January 2013 - The Day Before

As I open the first little green can from the Royal Danish Court I think ahead to 07.00 tomorrow.  Dubai is the setting again but rather than with my bike, tomorrow’s challenge will be 42.195km on foot.  And a challenge it will be.  Although my running goal this year is the Paris marathon in April, 11 weeks away, and tomorrow is as much a training running as a weekend away, I remain a little daunted.  There is no doubt the marathon deserves respect.  As I sip from the little green can, I wonder if Haille begins each marathon with trepidation.  I doubt he sips from little green cans the day before though...  But it is my way.
For reasons I can’t quite work out yet, I’m not confident about tomorrow.  I know I have the experience in my legs, if not the required base km’s at the moment, to get me through, but maybe that experience and knowledge tells me it won’t be pretty tomorrow.  Assuming that to be the case, I am expecting a big wake-up call and a clear idea of how far I am away from my Paris goal of 2hours 45 minutes.  This would be an hour quicker than my first marathon nine years ago, also in Dubai.  Boy!  How time has flown by here in the sand. But will I be flying tomorrow...?

So, what will need to be done to achieve the 2h45?  No more boozing.  Unlikely.  Compromise: no more hang-over’s – know when to stop, and then stop before that.  Possible.  In fact; achievable. It must be.  The desire for quality training is there.  Improved recovery time too.  That means strategies at work to reduce the workload and spend less time on my feet pacing around, as if my urgency is really required.

No sugar or the ever tempting biscuits.  Is it the sugar highs and lows that causes my mood to fluctuate so – the mildly bi-polar personality that means when I’m up I’m with the 10,000 men but when I’m not, self-doubt and the need for reassurance dominate?  The jaded morning after the night before contributes to the mood swings I’m sure.  While Dr. Steven Peters and the yoga gurus will have plenty to say about my state of mind, what I eat and drink, and to not be tired, are the easiest variables to control and get me on a consistent path.

What else for the sub 2h45?  Training.  The illusive, perfect training plan.  To include the swim and bike too: there is still Challenge Vichy in September and the ETU European championships and the sub 10 hour ‘ironman’ time to aim for and achieve...  How about some core and strength work?  More yoga?  Possibly, but the key sessions will always be in the water, on the bike, or out on a run.  But how to structure the three disciplines brings us back to the illusive perfect training plan.  Joe Friel and Gordo Byrn, Tim Noakes and every issue of Runner’s World or Tri247 have the plans, but do they work?  Would they work for me?  Consistency they all say is the key.  But I like the angle presented by Dr. Peters in his Chimp Paradox.  Enjoy the process.  No pressure.  Rather than “I must go for a long run”, instead “I might”; rather than “I should – I could”.  Don’t beat myself up about missed sessions: for fuck’s sake, it is hard enough training in the sandpit as it is with essentially only threes rides, and another three runs, to base my training around.

Ahh, the mind games to play on a long run.  Imagination is the best companion on the run down to Fintas.  Telling Mike Canning one day at work that I took the cliff top path at the weekend and saw that the dolphins had come close to shore, with him replying that he took the muddy track through the woods and ran amongst the wild flowers instead, puzzled the eavesdroppers, confused as to where we were talking about.  We left the incredulous enquires unanswered.  But we knew where we had been...

But back to marathon training.  Don’t complicate it: just run!  But what do I know about proper training?!! In preparation for the Abu Dhabi International triathlon I have vowed not to swim, having not been in the water since my last triathlon in August.  I somehow know Alistair Brownlee won’t approve but I am curious to see how my 1500m swim time will compare with the previous three Abu Dhabi events at all around 25 minutes.  Hours in pool hasn’t seen a great return for my swim split so let’s see if the opposite is true...

But again I digress.  The familiar descent over the man-made Palms and then past the Burj Khalifa brings me back down to the task in hand: the Dubai marathon tomorrow.  Only one thing for it: Dubai Duty Free and a dozen more little green cans from the Royal Danish Court and a couple of bottles of Rioja...

I better go to bed – it is 1am and the alarm is set for 05.00.  Good job I am not taking this seriously but do I drink the night before to provide a poor excuse for a poor performance.  Do I look to self-destruct?  What would Dr. Peters say to my night before preparation?  I say not to be so precious.  The preparation is very rarely perfect or ideal when you have to travel to events, as I do coming out of my sandpit, with things like flight delays and nutrition often compromised.  Pissing about the night before is relaxing for me in its own way.  You are unlikely to sleep well, tossing and turning in a new bed, paranoid that you may miss your alarm, having the A/C keep you awake – may as well have an alcohol induced slumber I say.  But why do I take the night before a big training run or ride more seriously than the event itself?  Maybe because race day is the cherry on the cake and is to be savoured as a result of accumulated previous sacrifices.  I feel the whole event is to be enjoyed: prior, during, and after the race.  And anyhow!  It has not done me harm in the past.  But the question is how much more could I achieve without being boozed up? 

I remember reading something about the boxer, Ricky Hatton.  He would always have a big fry-up breakfast the day of a fight to demonstrate to the assembled journalists that he was ready, at his peak, and that nothing at this late stage would make a difference to his performance.  A sign of confidence and intent.  I like his sentiments.  Enough of this though.  To bed at last.