THE DAY SYDNEY JOINED 6 OTHER CITIES FROM AROUND THE WORLD TO BECOME THE HOST OF AN ABBOTT WORLD MARATHON MAJOR
- jesstrengove
- Sep 4
- 12 min read
Updated: Sep 5
SUNDAY August 31st
I woke at 1:30am and did a quick time check. Not yet.
2:30am - time check. One hour to go.
At this point I decided to try and relax in bed until it was nearly 3:30am. The trouble with an early start is that I worry my alarm won’t go off. I was relieved to be awake.
I managed to get ready in our hotel room without waking the kids. I pinned my new hand-made bib to my top and snapped a photo for my family with a giggle. I could write a whole separate piece on the adventures of my front and back bibs but let’s just say the Sydney Marathon support staff worked over time on bib #58 and did a brilliant job. Dylan stirred and wished me all the best before I flung my backpack over my shoulder and tiptoed out the door in my new lululemon race tracksuit. I was so appreciative of his wholehearted support.
I ran into Leanne at breakfast and we nervously downed some pieces of toast covered in jam / honey + a coffee. She had one side of her head braided and the other side down. She planned to do her second braid at the race precinct but the current look was iconic. We boarded the bus. Staff and pacers chatted away in a relaxed manner whilst most athletes rested their eyelids in silence (or with music in their ears). I read a couple of messages from family members + some final words from my coach Adam and then a video came through from Dylan with Ellie’s words “Mummy….run fast”. I got watery eyes and realised that I was as full of inspiration as I was ever going to be - I didn’t need to read any more.
At the precinct, athletes found their allocated pigeon holes to place bags etc. then spent the next 45 minutes going about their stretching and pre-race rituals. We were allocated a little strip of road for the warm up, which took about one minute to jog up and down. After ticking off 10+ laps with a few of my team mates we headed back inside to change shoes, strip off our tracksuits and sneak in a final toilet stop. A few of the athletes, including Lisa, Leanne, Tom, Brett, Sam and I were introduced to the start line under an LED arch which was a bit of a novelty but also quite nerve-wracking. I saw a lot of familiar faces in the starting area. How unique and special to have the feel of a major but the familiarity of home all in one. I completed some strides and noted the steepness of the hill we were about to run down. Max Stevens had sent a video of this the day prior but it looked even more aggressive in the flesh. Nervous energy was high. I stood a few rows back with the other Aussie girls whilst runners around us jostled to find their spot. Before we knew it, the count-down had begun.
The race:
The first kilometre was crowded but unlike the early chaos in my last two Marathons, it felt like people were careful not to get in each other’s way. There were no elbows or back-pushes and I felt an air of respect amongst the pack of runners. It felt like we were all excited to be a part of this event and momentous occasion for Australian distance running. The cool morning air rushed by as we flew down the steep descent. It was quite the rollercoaster! Running up and over the Sydney Harbour bridge was one of the quietest parts of the race - it felt fitting for this majestic landmark, which had also formed part of the Marathon course in the Sydney 2000 Olympics. The silence and anticipation in the early kilometres resembled waiting behind the curtains to go on stage to perform. Ironically I had “The Greatest Showman” in my head – a pre-race favourite. The ‘step-onto-stage’ moment came somewhere near the 2.5km mark, where public access to the course led to a growing surge in cheers. Dylan and the kids caught my eye a couple of kilometres later and I felt an immediate burst of excitement. I concentrated on my footing as we rounded a couple of sweeping bends. A decent-sized pack of men and women had formed and it felt like we were finally able to find some rhythm after the ups and downs.
It was a relief to pluck my first bottle off table 4 at the 5km station as there were a few that looked similar nearby. It was only at the very last minute that I identified mine thanks to a coloured pipe cleaner around it that the kids had helped me to pick out. I drank almost all of its contents and drew satisfaction from ticking that box. The turns, undulations, cheers and scenic surroundings in the first 12kms kept my mind very engaged. It was fun to be sharing this experience with so many people I knew.
Despite the external distractions, it was hard to ignore some tightness in my right medial quad. I had been managing a niggle in that knee during my training block and figured the sharp descents must have exposed some consequent weakness. It wasn’t limiting my stride at all so I just had to hope it wouldn’t develop into anything more serious. “At least my VMO is firing” is what I told myself : ). At the 10km drink station I reached for my bottle to the left and knocked it off the table. Instinctively I stopped in my stride and went to run back for it but when I realised it had fallen between two tables I decided to let it go. Fortunately I had the gel I needed tucked in a pocket in my briefs. As I gulped it down I promised myself that I would slow down at the next station to ensure that doesn’t happen again! Tom Middleton from Run Crew was the official pacer for the lead Australian women. At this point the pack featured him and a group of other men at the front, with Japan's Ai Hosoda and some of the Australian women tucked in behind.
Running through Hyde and park and onto Oxford street was a thrill. I knew my parents and niece Millie were there somewhere and whilst I couldn’t isolate their voices, I could feel their presence. The energy was high with megaphones, cow bells, rainbow banners and crowds of people. By the 15km mark we were moving up an incline and there was a sense that the chaos was about to settle. The most technical part of the course was behind us. I continued to focus on the word I had chosen for the first 30km - calm. As we rolled gently down the Anzac Parade I marvelled again at how special it was to be running on home soil and to hear so many people passionately cheering for the Aussies – I felt like I had a personal connection with everyone who yelled out my name. I was excited to see my brother, sister in law and nephew near the 17km mark and could have reached out to touch them as we ran past. Without any barriers between us and the supporters it felt more relaxed than it had in the CBD and I enjoyed trying to spot familiar faces along the way.
I had been trying to block out the tight feeling in my right quad muscle that was progressively worsening. Suddenly my attention was drawn to a similar tightness developing on my left side. I was disappointed but not disheartened. At this stage my legs were still functioning well, so as long as I could tolerate the pain, all was okay. I made a conscious decision to keep rolling with the pack rather than slow down because 1) I was determined to give myself a shot at a top 8 finish even if it involved taking some risks and 2) I didn’t think that actively slowing down would help the issue - if anything it would result in more time on my feet. We started to pick off some of the international female runners who had fallen off the front pack – the lead women were being paced for a 2:20 finishing time (roughly 3:20 average per km). Until now I hadn’t sighted any of the lead women since the gun fired. Leanne and I exchanged a few words of encouragement as we moved up a place in the field.
Our pack passed the halfway mark in 71:40. I had managed to collect all of my bottles since the miss at 10km and took a spare gel from one of them to store in my back pocket (as a backup). I had to rip the packaging to free it from my bottle and wondered how much sticky Maurten I would end up with in the back of my briefs. More familiar faces emerged on the median strip as we headed towards the 22km turn around, where the crowd of supporters was particularly dense. I was bracing myself for the next 8km stretch which I anticipated would be a challenging part of the course mentally. We still had a decent-sized pack of men + Hosoda and Leanne, with Tom leading the charge.
To my surprise I quite enjoyed the next 6km stretch, despite the discomfort in my quads. My heart and lungs felt strong and we had a mild breeze to cool us down. I tried not to think ahead and soaked up the energy around us.
The point at which we turned off the Anzac Parade and headed towards Centennial Park felt like a new chapter in the race. The cheers started to swell like a rising tide. We went from running on a long straight road to needing to concentrate more on foot placement again. The picturesque tree-lined streets took me back to our shakeout jog the day beforehand.
I began to accept that what had started as a quest to place as high in the field as possible was instead becoming a quest to do what I needed to do to get to the finish line. I had hoped that at this point in the race I would be able to increase my speed and power home. Instead my quads were becoming less responsive and I could no longer maintain pace. Their reduced ability to absorb force with each foot strike made it feel like I had brittle tree trunks under me rather than springs. I focused on simple cues to keep my legs moving as the pack I had once been a part of, moved further into the distance.
Right when I needed a boost, Rory Darkins popped out of nowhere and ran along the path yelling. His energy and enthusiasm made me smile. Soon afterwards, the lululemon cheer zone emerged on my right with fellow Ambassador Ryan Mannix to my left with his trademark beaming smile. Their ecstatic roars were uplifting and I felt very thankful for their support, not only in this moment but throughout my build for this race. I didn’t know at this point whether my legs would be able to carry me all the way to the finish line but I had to keep going for as long as they would – I was racing for so many people who meant a lot to me - a powerful motivator.
My brother Jack had arrived in Sydney a couple of days before the Marathon and mentioned that he had run up the hill at the 35ish kilometre mark. He told me it was notable but manageable. As I worked my way towards this landmark I realised that uphills were my preference at this point - I feared the long downhill segment to follow. When I started to feel overwhelmed I tried to make my mind go blank. When that didn’t work I tried to imagine young me, who watched runners go by in the Sydney 2000 Olympics, instead watching me right now. It was a bit of a daunting thought. As corny as this sounds when I type it now, I said to myself a number of times in those later stages of Sunday’s race “run in a way that would make her proud”.
I know how important it is to stay composed and to bring my thoughts to the present moment when challenges present. As grabbed my gel at 35km and took a few sips from my bottle, I felt a sense of relief that there were only 7kms to go. As I ran back down Oxford street towards Hyde Park I tried to smile but the pain made it hard. I had always hoped I would enjoy rolling along this section but moving my legs under my body in a forward motion was requiring a high level of concentration. The positive is that it kept my mind in the present but I felt like I was anything but “rolling”. The buzz in the air was palpable as I neared St. Mary’s Cathedral. The finish line was becoming close now. With every step I was gaining confidence that I would get there.
Mrs Macquaries road featured a sharp descent in the 39th kilometre which I was familiar with. It was midway down this hill that my quad buckled on landing and nearly made me fall. It scared me and at the bottom of the hill I made the decision to walk. I had never walked in a Marathon before and wasn’t sure if it was a wise idea. Would I be able to get going again? Would my legs breathe a sigh of relief and decide to shut down completely or would they recharge? There weren’t many people on this section of the course and I quite enjoyed the moment of solitude before entering the final two kilometres.
I pushed my foot off the ground and motioned my body forward. To my relief I was able to quickly find a jogging rhythm again and my legs felt a bit steadier than they had prior. I continued to work my way past Mrs Macquarie’s Chair and felt my excitement building. I KNEW that I could get there now. I saw a couple of runners coming down Mrs Macquaries road in the distance as I worked my way back up it. I vaguely recollect a brass band at some point but otherwise I recall it being fairly quiet right up until the final climb to Macquarie street. My Garmin made it's trademark 'Mario-collecting-a-coin' like beep and it was music to my ears. 2.2kms to go. I took another short walk break to prepare my legs for the downhill run to the finish line. The cheers and crowd energy started to build again. Whilst my focus was on the road rather than the scenery, I could feel the beauty of my surroundings. A feeling that my quad was about to give way forced me to walk for another brief moment inside the final kilometre. The support from the crowd when I got going again made me love this event more than ever.
I can’t remember taking in the view of the Opera House as I ran towards the finisher’s arch as anticipated but I felt an immense sense of pride as I hobbled over the line. The finish of a Marathon is a particularly special place, where extreme physical exhaustion greets mental relief and emotional elation. Every person's journey to get to that point is very unique and personal success comes in many forms. Conquering the 42.195km distance is a feat in itself. Sometimes you can appreciate this immediately and other times it takes a while. As I caught my breath in the embrace of fellow Aussie women, I truly appreciated what we had all achieved that morning.
Unlike many major races I was able to be with my family within minutes of crossing the line. I carefully perched my toddler Ellie on the fence whilst having a post-race interview. I found out that I had placed 8th overall so was able to tick off my top 8 goal! Billy had a great time pulling faces at the camera and Dylan helped to keep everything under control as he had been for the last few days (weeks/months). After presentations we gathered our gear and hobbled towards the ferry for a ride back to our hotel.
Whilst I had woken up that morning hoping to be physically stronger, I could go to bed that night knowing that I had put myself where I wanted to be in the race and had given it everything, right to the end. I was able to take away learnings about the course and how I could better prepare for it next time. The TCS Sydney Marathon has firmly established itself as one of my all-time favourite events and I very much hope to be a part of it again in future. Thank you to everyone who made it what it was. The power of this sport never ceases to amaze me!
'No runner is the same person when they cross the Marathon finish line as they were before they started' (my recollection of a quote by Eliud Kipchoge in a pre-race interview).
