3.58.51 !

A light breakfast was taken and I got myself down to Bologna metro station near our hotel, soon seeing lots of other runners converging, all of us easily identifiable by our bright orange race rucksacks. I began to feel that familiar sense of camaraderie, rather less of an impostor. We were supposed to have disposed of our bags (for picking up after the race) and be heading for the starting pens by 7.30 am, over an hour before the start. That was never going to happen. The number of people was staggering, as are the logistics of handling so many competitors. Jogging around, the legs felt okay. The sore throat had gone. The biggest worry was suddenly the warm sunshine, warm enough not to have needed anything to throw away before the start. It was a long wait but hard to complain when literally right next to the Colosseum. The first few miles passed very comfortably at 8.30/mile pace, before things, as feared, started to tighten up. There was no point in slowing up. The theory was that I was going to be creaky towards the end whatever pace I ran so I might as well get to that point as quickly as fitness allowed. As it turned out, that enabled me to keep close to that starting pace for the first 16 miles, by which point the tightness was less of an issue than it had been a hour before.

Just after starting the clouds came in, meaning it had been overcast and about 14 deg for most of the race by then. Then there was a short shower, which was actually quite refreshing. The conditions for running were almost perfect. A realisation was growing that I could get under 4 hours, and at 20 miles, slowing but still moving fairly well, it dawned on me that I had to blow up pretty badly not to get that target. The fact that I had time to spare gave the body some license to give in to the tiredness. The last few miles were hard work but it was in the bag. And then, with half a mile to go, I caught my foot on a bit of rough cobble and went flying. I landed it pretty well and was soon up and back walking, trying to get the legs moving again. The only damage was my left elbow, which was dripping blood everywhere. I looked at the watch and it seemed like a few minutes were suddenly lost. The fear of missing out on sub four got me running at the necessary pace and I soon crossed the line in 3.58.51. I was over the moon with that, easily achieving the qualification I was after to run Boston next year as a V70! I might have to start training properly for that one.

It took quite a while to collect my bag, find a metro station (Colosseum was closed), get back to E (who had been exploring quiet part of the city near our hotel), sort out my wound (which was still bleeding profusely) and set out to explore Rome for the rest of the afternoon. Outside the hotel we met Claudia and Paulo, who so epitomised the marathon spirit and general joie de vivre that they had to posted rather than any of the sights of Rome! After a long chat and an eventual goodbye we had little plan other than to take a wander and that we did in style, taking in all kinds of random piazzas and walking a section of the river. It wasn't a bad idea to ease out the soreness in the legs that way. Strangely, I didn't feel either hungry or thirsty, not drinking or eating anything for six hours after finishing. I guess that's testament to having got the fuelling and the hydration just right on the day. After going out for pizza and giant piece of cheesecake, I was stuffed. My total step count, as recorded by watch, clicked past 70,000. I also might have claimed a record for the number of steps climbed after a marathon! We seemed to find them everywhere.