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Amsterdam, red light spells danger
Race Day

The week in numbers (so far)...

Miles ran: 26.49
Breakfast: Stroopwaffel
Alcohol drunk: A few beers (after the race)

Waking Up

The alarm is set for 6:15am

I wake up at 5 and can't get back to sleep so just lie there for a bit and then get up about half 5. As a lovely considerate husband I carry all my gear into the bathroom to get ready in there and not wake Gail up. I make a cup of coffee and then look for my porridge pot and then realise I haven't packed it, I was cleaning the bedroom just before we came away and I suddenly remembered throwing it in a bin bag, so it's onto plan B and finding something else to eat.

Now I did buy a large bar of white chocolate Milka yesterday but I've obviously eaten that. So it's the box of stroopwafels I guess.

Drink the coffee, eat a few stroopwafels and I'm ready to go. I like a walk to the start on marathon morning to clear my head and it's a nice stress free start to the day, so I head off eating another stroopwafel and wearing my fetching charity shop throw away outfit.

This year it's a pair of brown cargo pants with an unusually high number of pockets, they even have pockets within the pockets and they keep falling down as they're too big, a grey jumper with brown suede elbow patches and a huge oversized bright blue and yellow waterproof jacket, I of course, look amazing.

Heading to the start

I leave the hotel and have a google map to direct me to the start but I fail to realise its very early and also very, very dark. My route takes me through a park which during the day looked fine but now in the pitch black and no street lighting I decide to ammend my route. English Marathon Runner found dead in Amsterdam Park is not the takeaway I want from this weekend.

Get to the start for about 7:45 and there's a few quite a few people here already. I find a seat and have a rest and polish off another stroopwaffel and drink some coke. I take off my chuck away trousers, my chuck away socks and my chuck away trainers and put on my race socks and race shoes. Bright red shoes and bright red socks, fucking awesome.

Then I head to the baggage drop off and then the toilets.

Now, this is something of an experience. I have only ever used British portaloo's, good old fashioned British portaloo's that her majesty the Queen would have approved of. But those Europeans are different aren't they...

I lift the lid on the toilet and I'm greeted with what is essentially an open pit of human filth. The smell is vile, the sight is even worse. I immediately shut the lid and leave. As I leave a young lady goes in, every part of me wants to tell her that none of THAT is my doing, I just had a wee. But I decide that's a bit odd even for me.

I decide I'll never go into another portaloo and I'll just piss myself if I have to. Into the stadium and bump into Quynh, we have a chat and then start to walk towards the start line. Onto the track and then it clears a little and we jog and then off we go.

We've both decided we're starting slow and then seeing what happens later in the race. I'm not marathon fit and I definitely haven't done the mileage needed but I'm confident I can do 18-20 miles and then will no doubt enter a world of misery. We run together round the track and out the stadium and then onto the roads.

The Race Plan

Now here's where I tell you my race plan.

I have no race plan.

I did an 18 miler a few weeks ago at 8:15 pace so I kind of figured if I can do 18, then I can do 20 and then I'll crawl the last 6 when my body crumbles.

That's almost a plan, right?

Miles 1 - 9

Mile 1 in 8:20 and I've pulled away from Quynh, I give myself a talking to and tell myself to slow down and not be a twat. I fully expect to see Quynh again later when she comes past and I'm having a little cry.

Mile 2 in 8:06. Okay, settle down and get closer to 8:30 pace and you'll get through this.

Mile 3 in 8:09, mile 4 in 8:05, mile 5 in 8:05, mile 6 in 8:06.

At this point I make a decision. I decide 'fuck it'.

I feel comfortable, I know it'll get hard but this pace feels okay and I'm sticking with it for as long as my legs can keep going. I'm in Amsterdam, I'm full of stroopwafels, Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine are blasting out in my ears and I'm wearing bright red shoes, what a bloody brilliant day I'm having.

At some point in the first 10 miles we run through a building and there's an orchestra playing, now I have absolutely zero recollection of this but I've seen photos and it definitely happened.

Mile 7 in 7:59 and mile 8 in another 7:59 and I still feel fine. I take a gel at 9 miles after an 8:03 and then I decide upon a new and improved race strategy.

This one still srixks to the philosophy of 'fuck it' but adds a little more.

Miles 10 - 20

I decide to just run and focus on my gels and nothing else.

It's a gel every 3 miles so I'll just run until my watch beeps and take a gel, then ignore everything until it beeps again. So it's listen to my music, run at a pace that feels comfortable and take gels when my watch beeps.

Run.

Sing.

Beep.

Gel.

Repeat.

Mile 10 in 8:05, 11 in 7:59, 12 in 8:03 and it's gel time once again. Take the gel and now looking ahead to the next one at 15 miles. I'm enjoying the course, the conditions are perfect and although early in the race I still feel bloody great.

This point of the race is a long out and back next to a canal, I really enjoy this section. There a fella on a tiny rowing boat playing what looks like a church organ with all the huge pipes and he's also playing a trumpet.

Then there's a barge cruising along with a full band and a bloke singing in Dutch, bloody random and bloody brilliant and I'm loving it.

Mile 13 in 7:56 and then the halfway point, mile 14 in 7:58, mile 15 in 7:52

My average pace is getting faster, my last few miles have all been sub 8 minutes and I start to realise I'm having a good day here.

Mile 16 in 7:44

In my last few marathons it's been around this point I start to slow down, my pace slows around 16-20 miles and then I usually fall to pieces but this time it's different. I start to get faster, I'm running, I'm smiling, I'm singing my music out loud and I simply don't give a shit.

LCD Soundsystem comes on, I turn the volume up as loud as it goes.

Mile 17 in 7:31, 18 in 7:35, 19 in 7:30, 20 in 7:35

My average pace is looking good, I've taken my 18 mile gel and next up is 21 and then 24 so in my head that means I'm basically done.

20 - 23 miles

I'm 20 miles in.

In London in 2023 I fell to bits at 20 miles and from 20-23 miles I had to run and walk to keep moving.

In York in 2024 I was determined not to walk or stop but my quad had other ideas and I spent a mile where I had to walk for sections.

In Manchester last year the heat got the better of me and 23-25 miles I had to stop and stretch and walk some stretches.

But here in Amsterdam I'm at 20 miles and feel bloody good and I suddenly realise I'm not going to stop or walk and I'm going to run the whole thing in a decent time.

Mile 21 in 7:42 and 22 in 7:51

My 21 mile gel doesn't go down easily, I feel a bit sick and not sure I can face another.

For the past 3 miles my shokz have been beeping and telling me the battery is low, I'm hoping they'll make it to the end but it's seeming unlikely, I also haven't yet heard the Moana song and that's starting to bother me.

Will the battery last til the end?

Will Moana come on before they die?

What will I do if the battery goes?

Mile 23 beeps and it's 8:00 and I can feel I'm slowing up a bit.

26.2 and a bit more ...

And then...

The greatest moment and the greatest timing in the history of mankind.

The song changes as I'm coming up to 24 miles. I need a lift and this is it.

The familiar opening chords of the Moana theme song come on, now I don't care who knows it but my god I bloody love this song. I immediately feel all the Moana emotions welling up inside me, she's all alone again after Maui leaves her, her grandma's ghost visits her and I inevitably burst into tears. I feel it welling up from my feet right up through my body and I embrace the tears and the absolute feeling of what is probably euphoria and not sadness.

Mile 24 in 8:12, I'm crying, Moana is playing at full volume, I'm singing and I'm going to smash this marathon.

Then disaster.

The shokz battery run out and silence.

I need to take a gel but I just can't face it, I can still taste the 21 mile gel in my mouth and I make a decision to skip this one. No gel, no Moana, no music. I'm hoping to see Gail at this point and I scan the crowd but don't spot her. I'm coming up to 25 miles and I'm suddenly on a bit of a downer.

I run through Vondelpark and then turn down towards the finish at the stadium. I'm knackered but still moving. Mile 25 in another 8:12, the average pace has slowed a bit but it's still sub 8 mins overall.

Now my music isn't working I can hear the crowd properly for the first time, I glance at a young Dutch boy at the side who's shouting people's names, he spots me, points at me and shouts "come on Sheemon". He really emphasises the 'eee' sound to make my name very long and fancy sounding.

For the next mile all I can hear is "Sheemon come on" and then a group of very loud and drunk lads near the stadium chanting "Sheemon, Sheemon" over and over. It lifts me a bit but I'm still finding this mile hard going and it seems to be lasting for ever.

As we take the right turn towards the stadium another runner cuts the corner and barges straight into me and I stumble but stay on my feet. Ain't no chance Sheemmon is getting knocked over. If I was of a clearer mind I would have made a hilarious Tommy Fury joke at him, as it was I simply called him a cunt quite loudly.

My watch beeps and it's my slowest mile in 8:39 but my average pace is still under 8 and it should be a sub 3:30

I change the watch screen to see what my overall time is, I'm over 3:30 but I don't care. I'm on the track and just a couple of hundred metres to go and then I'm done.

Crossing the finish line

A sudden lift in pace, round the bend and cross the line.

I've just ran my first ever marathon.

And by that I mean I've ran the entire thing, I didn't stop, I didn't walk, nothing seized up, no shooting pains, just a really well paced and steady marathon in 3:31:12

I can't quite believe I did it, I did 6 weeks of training, my longest run was 18 miles and my only other long runs were 14 and 15 miles. I did no thresholds, I ate way too much chocolate, I drank a pint of Guinness last night and ate even more chocolate whilst lying in bed, I ate a pack of stroopwaffels for breakfast and I've just ran a negative split marathon in my second fastest time.

I wait for Quynh for a bit but then I start shivering, I'm freezing cold and need to get my clothes on.

I get my bag and look for somewhere to sit down, there's not many seats and those that are there are full of knackered runners crying. I spot a gap with a lady standing in front of it. She's a spectator, not a runner and I go to sit there, she puts her hand out to stop me and I mutter something unpleasant and a little rude at her and sit down anyway.

Red light didn't spell danger

And there we go.

Marathon number 4 is over (we don't talk about Kielder) and after a very slow walk I'm in the pub with Quynh and Gail drinking booze.

So looking back I started this idea of marathons in 2022. My idea was to do something different and get away from the 5 and 10k's that I was getting slower and slower at.

I'm 2023 I got a place in London and aimed for 3:30 and my grand plan was to see if by the time I turned 50 I could run a V50 good for age in 3:15

I did London in 3:32

In 2024 I had a place in Manchester but had to pull out due to injury and later that year I did York in 3:28

Earlier this year I trained for Manchester and was in the best form of my life and was confident of a good time but the heat got the better of me and it was a 3:34

And now Amsterdam. I've just ran the 50th Amsterdam Marathon in my 50th year in 3:31

It's not the 3:15 I planned 3 years ago but I'm still happy with what I've done over the last few years.

So what now?

I've entered Manchester next year and I'm still hoping I have a 3:15 in me and it's still my target albeit a longer term one now.

And what about the blogs? This was always going to be the final one with a fairytale ending. Retire the blogs and retire from marathons with my head held high.

The blogs were purely to get me to the start line, a way of giving me some accountability to get out and train. I didn't actually think anyone would read them but people actually do and for some weird reason you all seem to enjoy them.

In the words of Gomez "Once upon a time not too long ago, we took a day out in Manchester"

Manchester 2026, training starts December 2025.

And the Blog will follow .....

London 2023

Want to read all about my London adventure in 2023.

It's mostly about Ben, my sausage dog nemesis and wine.

LONDON CALLING

Yorkshire 2024

Enjoyed reading about London?

Now its time for York and reading about Bilbo, mushrooms and wine.

And Ben.

YORKSHIRE PUDDINGS

Manchester 2025

Well you've read the last two so may as well carry on.

Manchester, so much to answer for. Yeah Ben gets a mention or two

MANCHESTER - THE SECOND COMING