Extending Race Times
I need to start by saying that the fundamental core of who I am is all about inclusivity. I’ve literally got it written right through me, like a stick of Blackpool rock, and there are many pivotal moments in my life that blew oxygen onto these embers, moments when the flames were ignited and the heat began to glow.
Here is one such moment. It was a sunny, Sunday afternoon and I was watching my Dad take part in a “friendly competitive” tennis match in the small Yorkshire village where I grew up. I can still see my child self peering through the newly built wire fencing as Dad played with all his heart and soul. I have no recollection of whether he lost or not, he was my Dad, and like his loyal shadow I was just happy being with him.
But something shifted in me that afternoon, an unconscious awakening, and as though it was yesterday the raw emotion still stings my eyes as I recall the prize giving, me waiting in anticipation to see the glorious prize that my Dad would surely win. Even as a child I could sense the atmosphere had changed as a “jokey” booby prize was awarded to my Dad- there was jollity and laughter as he was presented with an award that was given in recognition of his terrible performance. Sorry, what???!! He worked hard, he stuck it out and he persevered, and I thought then, and I still think now, that I saw something in my Dad’s face that knew that this prize undermined his efforts and that his participation wasn’t taken seriously, perhaps wasn’t even wanted, or welcome.. It certainly felt to me, his tiny adoring daughter, like he was being mocked and belittled in front of the laughing crowd. He never picked up a tennis racket again from that day to this.
At times my strong pull towards advocating for inclusivity has got me into trouble. I was asked to leave a much loved running club because, after having encouraged lots of beginners and “normal” runners to join, “they didn’t want my slow runners in their club”. In utter indignation, I set up my own- about 800m from theirs and RunVerity began to welcome and teach “normal” people that they too can run, regardless of how they look, how fit they are or how fast they are. Yet I still encounter these running gatekeepers that put the metaphorical and physical barriers up that shame runners who feel they’re too slow, or not enough, or simply don’t feel like are allowed to call themselves “a runner’.
With nearly 1 million people entering London Marathon 2025 ballot there has been a social media storm on who should and who shouldn’t be able to participate with suggestions that only runners who complete a marathon in 4 hours should be able to enter London Marathon Ballot, where are we? In George Orwell’s 1984? And with the average time to run a marathon for men being 4hrs 21 mins and 4hrs 48 mins for women this would make a 4hr time limit an elitist event, do all runners over 4hrs get a “booby prize?”
Back to the fire in my belly….
Having encouraged runners to enter races, because the running world has changed, it’s inclusive now, isn’t it? But what happens when you run at the back of the pack? You’d expect to have an equal race experience to the first runner over the finish line, here’s just a few examples of experiences from running at the back of the pack.
The Marshall had walked away from a corner of the road, I should have turned left but I went straight on, I had to turn around and go back after someone told me I’d gone the wrong way, I was on my own, it felt like everyone else who’d run the race was heading back to their cars proudly showing off their medals, I had another 2 miles still to go.
A cut off time for Hampton Court Half last year was constantly niggling at the back of my mind - through training and the event. Could I do it? Would I have the sweeper behind me the whole way? Would there be anybody left to see me in at the end? Would I be laughed at for even trying? If I’m at …. distance at …. time, is it worth me even trying to carry on? Sometimes it helped as a push and nudge to keep going but it could’ve easily put me off wanting to complete or participate if I had wobbly moment.
A local 10km event has opened the roads and asked me to stick to the pavements near the end, I remember one Marshall having that look of ‘do I stop her to let the cars through’…
ABP Southampton Half had a cut off time of 3 hours applicable to the half runners as well as the marathon runners (for their first lap). I wasn’t confident I’d manage it in that time and seriously considered bailing out completely. I did however turn up but conscious of the cut off, I adopted the famously rubbish strategy of capitalising at the start and going out too fast. I made it over the line in time and honestly probably wouldn’t have really made much difference if I’d gone out slower and just maintained a steadier pace but suffice to say I’d like it better if there wasn’t a cut off time!
One runner I know says she won’t enter anymore races and pay to be humiliated, here are some of her experiences she kindly allowed me to share:
Water tables packed up before I passed them.
Finish lines being packed away – one year we had to hold the finish line up ourselves so our runners would get the same “crossing the finish line” feeling.
Volunteers jumping in their cars to go home before I got my breath back.
Tail rider peddling right on my heels or tail car revving behind me on a marathon.
Tail rider shouting merrily ‘yep this is the last one’.
A wall of ‘finishers’ walking or driving towards me, having completed their run not bothered about those behind.
The organisers started the children’s fun run before the 10k had ended so we ended up finishing the race with children running over the finish line as well. As I went over the finish line I didn’t know where to go as it was so busy, a lady said quite rudely “you must go right you’re an adult, children go left!”. I felt 5 years old.
London marathon has extended its finish time from 7 hours to 8 hours, and whilst this is a huge step in the right direction, there were 50 runners this year who finished over 8 hours, but their finish line was moved to an alternative place- so no crowd support or commentator cheering them in.
Brighton marathon has also extended it’s finish time to 7 hours, and it is clear in the T&Cs that runners will be asked to move onto the pavement. What is unclear is whether the runners who finish after 7 hours will still get their medal or an official time.
Paris marathon has a strict cut off time of 5hrs and 45mins and in 2018 me and RV members witnessed the horrible impact it had on runners as the marathon officials put up steel barriers at the 42km mark, with literally 200 meters left to run. Runners were left confused about where to go next, forced onto the pavement with supporters, the historic finish line cruelly snatched away from them with no alternative and a DNF next to their name.
Nobody should feel embarrassed or devalued if they run at the back of the pack and whilst there has always been the argument that race officials don’t want race participants on the course after a certain amount of time due to safety and logistics, it begs the question of how will extending race times change how runners at the back are treated? Will the extended times guarantee the same race day experience as the front runners?
And why is this such a big deal? There is an argument on Threads currently as a runner didn’t finish in the 6 hour cut off time for Boston Marathon due to changes in her circumstances leading her to be in the final wave, bearing in mind the cut off time is taken after the last runner has crossed the start line, the pressure of this runner not knowing how much of a “buffer” she has to finish is an enormous pressure that the runners in the front waves will never experience. The big deal is she has a DNF (did not finish) after her name due to her finish time of 6:05:59, this was her final marathon in the Abbot World Majors so whilst she has collected her 6 Star marathon medal, she is not officially recorded as a World Majors Finisher.
This leads me to the question of when does running and walking a marathon become an issue, is that what all the fuss is about, that people shouldn’t enter marathons if they are going to “walk” it.
I found a 2005 study suggesting that if you are moving slower than a pace of 12:12 min mile then you are walking and not running. But my argument has always been, especially when beginners tell me that they could walk faster than my recommended slow running pace that running and walking are 2 completely different things.
With walking there is always one foot on the ground, (Race Walking is an official Olympic Sport and the men’s world record stands at 18:05 for a 5km and women’s is 20:01). When you are running there is a moment in your stride when both feet are off the ground. To prove my point, I recently recorded a video with me running and one of my runners, Hannah, walking next to me.
The pace I am running at in the video is approx. 15:30 min mile, at this pace I would finish a marathon in 6hrs 46 mins, just 30 secs per mile slower and I’d duck under the 7-hr mark. However this obviously doesn’t take into account any walk through water stations, if the weather is unseasonably hot, toilet breaks or any other variables that I am unable to control. My “normal” runners train at these paces and put in the same hard work, grit, and determination as all the other marathon runners. They get up at dawn, frequently put their training before their families and social lives and go through the same highs and lows as a 9 min mile runner.
Yet, they can experience a different, less than race, as though they are not good enough. Having to contend with tail walkers literally walking next to them or a wall of walkers that they must try and dodge past from mile 1, or an intense pack of “Jeffers” who sprint/walk the whole way round. Is it too much to ask that we all get the same race day experience?
It’s the responsibility of race organisers and directors to ensure this happens, because everyone pays the same price. So extend race times, yes, but make sure that that same group whose money you are happy to take do not leave feeling like second class runners, with their efforts belittled. Let’s stop perpetuating a sense of moral superiority to the finishers who ran their marathon quicker. Because nobody deserves to get the booby prize.