Sun, sea and staying up too late! Benidorm Half Marathon 2019

Where to start with this one?! 

This race has been on my bucket list for ages. I love Benidorm and have visited most years since I was about thirteen. In more recent years, each visit involved a couple of extremely hungover trips out along the promenade to get the all-important running tourism Strava logs. So, when I opened my Birthday card from Des back in August to find he’d booked it as a surprise, I was absolutely delighted and counting down the weeks!  

Before Christmas, I really fell out with running if I’m honest. After collecting some impressive medals in the autumn, almost as soon as I’d finished the Worksop Half Marathon I almost completely lost interest. Not helped by a combination of dark nights, cold weather and not having anything too close to train for, my mileage plummeted heading into the festive season.

However as the new year approached, and with Benidorm quickly getting closer, I decided I really wanted to give it a good go. Having checked the previous year’s results, I knew that I’d need to pull my socks up quite a lot if I wanted to make the cut off and complete the race. So for the first time in ages, I had made myself a plan, scheduled the long runs in and was determined to get to the start line and be confident that I’d done all I could. 

So ignoring the cold and the dark, I set about running every day in January which, although scuppered a bit by being poorly, gave me a good boost. My training had been decent, spurred on my seeing my average times slowly but surely reducing. And as we boarded the plane (following a stint in the all-inclusive airport lounge) I couldn’t wait to get to one of my favourite places to do one of my favourite things with a gang of some of my favourite people.  

We arrived at our fantastic air BnB at about 11pm and decided we should have a little walk out to ‘go and see’ what was going on in Benidorm. Before we knew it, we were in a kebab shop at 5am having had far too many cheap vodka and diet cokes and with tired legs from dancing along to Benidorm’s answer to the Bay City Rollers. Not quite in the training plan and definitely not ideal for the night before race day!

Somewhat unusually (and fortunately for us, considering the previous night!) the run didn’t start until 6.30pm on the Saturday. After a relaxing afternoon collecting our race bibs and eating an almighty carb fest, it was time to head to the starting point. And for some reason at this point I became a huge bag of nerves.  

I think sometimes, it can be worse standing on the start line knowing you’ve prepared that standing there planning on winging it. But as quickly as the nerves has started, the excitement came back being surrounded by crowds of runners with some fantastic songs blasting out to get everyone motivated and ready tackle the 13.1 miles which lay ahead.

One of my favourite things about organised races is being able to run down the middle of roads which are normally cluttered with cars – and this was no different. Starting off along one of Benidorm’s main roads, listening to the rhythmic pounding of everyone’s trainers combined with the clapping and cheering of spectators helped the endorphins to kick in nice and early. I soon settled into a nice pace and enjoyed the view of the sun setting over the sea, ticking the kilometre markers off as I made my way up towards the old town.

After a short, sharp hill and a bit of winding through the Spanish street, the route took on a long out and back along the promenade of the old town. I always enjoy bits of a race where you can see the faster runners as scanning the steady stream for a friendly face provides a welcome distraction, and best of all I managed to spot Des just before heading down and turning away from the other runners.

With the kilometres still ticking along quite nicely and in exceptionally high spirits, I soon started chatting to some of my fellow runners a bit. Picking out some ladies from another running club local to me as well as talking about past races and hopes for this run with some others. The temperature had dropped to a comfortable level, spectators were 2-3 deep in some parts and I knew I was nearing the end of the first lap on track for a decent 10km time, ready to repeat the whole thing again and complete the half marathon. I felt really good and was soon heard the shouts of my parents and some friends willing my to carry on and get the job done.

There was an excellent buzz around the finishing area as the 10km racers completed their own challenges and those of us doing the Half headed off onto our second lap. But then all of a sudden it seemed very lonely on the big wide street I’d set off down an hour before surrounded by others. I still felt alright but I was starting to dip, so I slowed to a walk to take on a bit of water and some a few sweets for some sugar.

I hadn’t realised quite how many of the people around me about a kilometre before were dropping off at to 10km point until I realised there were only a couple of us around now. I managed to stay fairly jovial until I realised there were two bikes behind me, with little flags declaring “times’s up”… it’s fair to say at this point the panic set in.

Would I be pulled off the course? How could I face all my friends with their medals if I didn’t manage to finish it? Could I even be bothered to race these stupid bikes and finish it? All sorts of questions started whirring around, not to mention the huge self doubt I’d be spending the last five miles of the race fighting off.

I plodded on as I always do, putting in a bit of a spurt when I could to push ahead of the looming bikes and reminding myself that I was doing OK and that I’m fully capable of running a half marathon. This time, instead of merrily ticking the markers off, I just willed myself to get to each one. In time, those bloody biked passed me and I didn’t get kicked off the course which I was relieved about but still stayed slightly wary in case they changed their mind and came back.

Finally I reached the 10 mile point, really flagging with heavy legs and the energy from lunchtime’s carb-fest long depleted. Even ‘just a parkrun’ seemed like a bloody long way still to go but I did my best to keep in my head that even if everything in the world went wrong in those final miles, I’d be done in 45 minutes at the absolute most. 

It was that tactic that helped me to keep going through those final few miles. First it was 45 minutes at the most, then 40 and so on. All the while knowing that if I managed to keep running and not stop to talk, those minutes would be smaller and I’d be finished quicker.

Staying positive got particularly tough running back through the winding streets of the Old Town – the hundreds of spectators lined up cheering behind barriers on the first lap were now freely wandering all over the course. This left me and some fellow runners dodging and diving on less than nimble legs to make our way through the crowds and onto the final straight.

Dashing (well, probably shuffling/plodding/crawling) back past my personal support crew, I knew I only had a few hundred meters to go. I was shattered but I was nearly there! Seeing Des’s smiling face waiting at one of the last corners gave me the endorphin rush I needed to keep going through what seemed like a never ending finishing area, running past the line to then double back and run down the other side and finally over the finishing line!

In the end, I made it in a time of 2:44:03 making it my quickest half marathon in about a year so I felt quite content as I sipped the ridiculously welcome free cup of Coke Zero given to me in the finishing area. All-in-all, it was a great experience. Being at the back of the pack is never going to be easy, but I still surprise myself sometimes how much I manage to persevere and see it through.

And of course we all did plenty of celebrating after the run, taking in the ample Benidorm nightlife and partying into the not-so-small hours. We’re already planning next year’s trip and I already can’t wait!