For some reason this event is not on regular rotation with the Toowoomba crew.

So it was a bit hard to get first-hand info when I first decided to run it.

The "Brooks Adelaide Marathon" is smallish. At the start line they were claiming 1016 registered runners had registered. Something less than that actually started.

Lower-key than other runs. No music blaring at the start, and not a whole lot of DJ hype manufacture.

Like the GCM in 2025, Robert de Castella gave the pre-start pep talk. I missed it due to the need for a last minute visit to a porta-loo. I'm sure the motivational harangue was good. The relief of a timely dump was better.

A dark, cold, rainy morning.

Providentially, the rain ceased in sync with the starter's gun. Suddenly it was dry, overcast, and cool. Perfect.

Six months previously I'd set my sights on a 3hr20min finish for Adelaide. For some reason I'd been imagining a flat run. However, while visiting in February I'd run the first loop of the course. This put paid to my ascent misconceptions. Adelaide is not a flat track. I don't know exactly what it is because I've seen a few different numbers. Judging from my experiences on other courses I'd estimate this one at 350-375m. About the same as Sydney.

The hills, plus some niggles that had kept my training to a subdued burn, caused me to reset time expectations to somewhere in the 3hr35-3hr45min range. Mentally I'd already transferred my 3hr20min attempt to Melbourne in October.

At the Torrens parkrun on Saturday the legs felt good. It seemed the taper had worked its magic. Another day of rest convinced me to go out with the 3hr30min bus, hanging on as long as I could.

The fact that I was quickly out ahead of the 3:30 pacer did not fill me with confidence. A marathon start is a funny thing. Veins course with adrenaline, running is effortless. I know this. I also know it's a trap: one that can get triggered about 2 hours in. But I am not a smart runner. So I kept going.

At every turnaround during the first 21km loop I checked the position of the 3:30 pacer. I could see I was consistently widening the gap between us. Not the race plan, but I was feeling good. I kept pushing.

Being legitimately out in front of the 3:30 bus is curiously different. I'd been ahead of this pace bus in Sydney, but it was obvious that many of the runners (including myself) had no business being there. The chaotic self seeding along with slow, staged starts ensured this.

Not in Adelaide. The small size of the pack meant that everyone I was with was a legitimate sub-3:30 prospect. The running was focused and business-like. There was chatter, but it was clipped and to-the-point. Perhaps only I felt it, but there seemed a fraternal sensation of respect between runners. I drew strength from it.

At 27km the fun ended. Between one step and the next my race changed. The runners around me began drawing ahead. Whilst I could previously speed or slow to match the action, now I had no answer. The accelerator pedal was spongey and non-responsive.

Not a good feeling. It was time to pay for my early-race hubris. Bugger. I wondered gloomily just how bad my splits bar-chart was going to look. I could clearly visualize the depressing post-30km droop in speed that so often characterizes a marathon effort. How long before the 3:30 bus came steaming by - just as had happened in Sydney? Would I be able to latch on and fight my way to a 3hr30min finish?

These are the depressing thoughts that besiege you when the strength starts to drain from your legs.

But experience and training count. One of my mentors, Jim K, sometimes splits a marathon into two sections:

• 0-32km: Warm-up
• 32-42km: Race

I wasn't even through the warm-up. The thought angered me a little. My mind jerked back to the present, focusing on the now. I ripped a gel from my belt and smashed it down. Come hell or high water I was going to run the next 5km well. The final 10 kms would look after themselves.

Resolve, perspective, and mental strength all matter. Clearly I wasn't at the pace I had been. But I was still moving, and moving well. I was running to feel, not to my watch. It felt like sub 5min/km pace. While I might not be adding to my lead on the 3:30 pacer, he probably wasn't gaining much either.

There is much more to this run story. The details are boring to anyone but me. How I filled my flask. Where I jettisoned my gloves. Which fuel I ingested, when, and why. Who I saw along the way. What mental games I played. The elation in realizing a PB is a lock.

Bottom line. It was hard. It hurt. I held on. I finished well.

A 10 minute PB 🙌🏻. A finishing time below the goal I had set months ago, and then jettisoned.

Sore. Tired. But also energized. About 10 minutes after finishing I found myself moving about the course with my girls: cheering on club mate Christian L. At one stage we had to run. That is not a normal thing for me to be doing after a marathon. Oddly, it felt ok.

So that was Adelaide. Three Australian capitals marathons (BNE, SYD, ADL) completed. Four to go (PER, HBA, MEL, CBR).

Time to get running again.

🏃‍➡️🏃‍♀️‍➡️🏃‍♂️‍➡️