We headed out to Malta a few days early to get used to the temperature and enjoy the island. I could write an entire section on Malta itself but this is just about the marathon.
We took the bus to the start at the ungodly hour of 6.30 and met a few people in a cafe around the pick up zone. It was nice to see some regular faces including those that I had met at marathons in the past week(s). The start is in the medieval city of Mdina. It's known as the silent city but on this Sunday morning - it wasn't too quiet!
The time passed quickly and easily and before I knew it - it was 8am and the start. The roads in Malta are known to be a little rough but it was mostly uneven asphalt that we had underfoot. I was fine for the first 4 miles until my breathing deteriorated. I was taking my inhalers as quickly as it could but I think that the fumes from the traffic, the dust and the temperature got to me. To proceed on that the next 10 miles were awful is an understatement. I felt awful and sick and just honestly wondered why I was doing this myself. I felt bad that I was holding Mel up and just like a complete loser. We had some funny points - like me taking some attention from Mel's pitstop by peeing in front of traffic (just call me Paula) and Mel kissing a marshal because they were being overly enthusiastic for us! But in general - I felt like giving up. I just couldn't control my breathing and felt that no air was getting to me quickly enough. It's a worrying feeling and the first time I've had it in a marathon.
I finally persuaded Mel to run on and that I'd meet her later. During the next 5 miles I proceeded to throw up twice, have a mini asthma attack after avoiding being hit by a car and tried to find some water as the stations were already closing down. But then something just clicked and I started running again and was actually feeling ok.
For the rest of the rest - the following mantras were in my head:
- every step you take is a step closer to home... And if you run it - you'll get there quicker
- just keep running
- you've started, so now you'll finish.
I'll admit for middle 15 miles I hated every step. Hated the marathon, hated what I was doing to myself and felt like giving up. But I didn't. I guess some mental stamina got me through.
I was running just on the cut off line and was making good time with a few people that I overtook. One Italian guy who couldn't speak English but had fallen over at the start and had the biggest bruise I've ever seen and was limping to the finish determined to get there. A Hungarian woman on her first marathon who was struggling after 30km.
The issue with the last part of the race is that they were already opening the roads, shutting down the water stations or had already run out of oranges/bananas etc. so the last 6km we were alone, with no guidance and I was getting more and more annoyed. THEN I asked a local where the marathon finish was: he replied: go left and its 1km. So I ran left. 1 mile later a runner stops me and asks: have you finished the marathon and running to your hotel or still running? Because the finish is in the other direction (*cue angry swearing). I returned to the course and ran the rest of the way along the seafront with a real angry feeling inside me. I got lots of applause and good wishes but I was running like a demon. if i take off the time - I should have crossed the line at 5.02.
Instead it was 5.22 and I crossed the line to