Another week, another marathon paradigm shift

I don't remember another runner breaking world records with such ease since Usain Bolt first burst onto the stage

I haven’t witnessed such a paradigm shift in running since Usain Bolt ran 9.69 with ease to win the Olympic 100m gold medal in Beijing. As I sat opened mouthed watching that race, it was like this was a guy operating on a different plane of existence. Crushing the world record and looking easy, relaxed, like it was a piece of cake. It was like Superman walked among us.

Nobody has dominated a running event with such ease since, not even the great Eliud Kipchoge. Until in walked Kelvin Kiptum.

[For anyone who doesn’t know, this young Kenyan, in only his third ever marathon, smashed the world record in Chicago on Sunday, running 2 hours and 35 seconds.]

Will he ever be as famous as Mr Bolt? Does he have the charisma to match his talent?* Can he last at the top as long as Kipchoge, win as many medals and become such an icon of the sport? Nobody knows. But what we do know is that he is an otherworldly talent. Just like Bolt.

When he blasted away to win a rainy London marathon in April, in only his second-ever marathon, I wrote in my Monday Musings: “It looks like Kenya has found its next superstar. Surely, this guy, if he’s clean, and he keeps his head together, and he gets a group of pacemakers to set him up … he can smash the world record.”

Well, he didn’t even need the pacemakers. He was pushing so hard in Chicago on Sunday that he spent most of the early miles running next to the pacemakers, edging ahead of them, pace making for the pacemakers. A group of three pacemakers were supposed to lead him to halfway, but by the time he hit the half marathon mark all three had already dropped out he was going so fast.

And then he sped up.

Imagine you’ve been running flat out for almost 19 miles (30km). Most of us know what it feels like to run that far. But this guy was running it at world record marathon pace (which is 4:33 min/mile pace - or 2:48 min/km pace - mile after mile after mile). And then he starts pushing. He runs the next 10K (from 30km to 40km) in a mind-blowing 27:52.

OK, maybe that doesn’t mean anything to you. Let me help put it in context: the fastest 10K performance in a 10K race by any British runner in 2023 so far was 28:06, by Olympic 10,000m finalist Andy Butchart. So even the best British runner, running his best 10K of the year, and starting fresh 19 miles into the race, wouldn’t be able to keep up with Kiptum. From what planet did this guy just descend?

In one post-race interview, he was asked if he had ever felt pain at any point in a marathon. He answered straight faced that he had never felt any pain in a race. Not even towards the end. He certainly didn’t look like he was experiencing any discomfort as he finished the race in Chicago, smiling and waving as he sprinted up to the line.

At the risk of over-referencing myself, after his run in London I also wrote: “He made running 2:01 look so easy, I think we may have just met the guy who will one day run a real marathon in under two hours.”

I mean, the real risk here is that he gets bored. At 23 he has run three marathons and he already has three of the six fastest times in history, he has won two of the six marathon majors, and he holds the world record. After he runs sub 2 hours, which he surely will, and wins the Olympics, then what? Retire?

Of course, who knows where his story will actually go. Hopefully he’s clean. But as I said after the women’s world record a few weeks ago, there are no drugs we know of that can make you run that fast. Last time, I also added the caveat: “If he keeps his head together.” Yes, there is that. Daniel Komen was a similarly talented runner in his day, bursting onto the scene in the early 1990s and setting a host of world records - including a few that still stand today. But within a few years he was gone, distracted by the trappings of wealth and fame. Long-term success takes more than pure talent.

So we’ll watch this space with interest. But I suspect the betting odds on a sub-2 marathon have fallen considerably since Sunday.

Catching the buzz

Before Kiptum’s antics, I had planned to write today about a little run I did on Tuesday night. I’ve probably kept you long enough, so I’ll try to make it quick.

As regular readers will know, I do enjoy my Tuesday night sessions with the Torbay running (triathlon) club. This week it was a five-mile time trial. I haven’t been doing much fast running since my six-day race back in April, so I told myself all day that I’d take it easy and then see if I could push hard at the end. Ah, how I love to play this game with myself. Temper expectations, pretend I don’t really care, talk myself down. And then … go, bam, we’re off, the race is on, hang in there, don’t let them go!

We were a group of about 40 runners, with the slower runners starting first, leaving the faster runners starting later with people to chase - the idea being for everyone to finish at about the same time. Apart from speedy Jason, I was in the second-last group to start. This already felt good. We did a few extra strides as groups of younger, leaner runners took off. Don’t worry, we’ll catch you.

I felt a faint stirring of that old familiar feeling of being good at something. I don’t get this when I run ultras, but I still get it - just about - at shorter distances. A little edge of confidence, a little flutter of self-assuredness. One guy looked around panicking that he was in the wrong group and took off before we were ready. “OK, we’ll give it another minute,” said Jon, our coach, the street almost deserted now.

Then the last four of us - apart from Jason, who had to give us another two minutes before he could set off - ambled up to the line. “Ready?” asked Jon. “Let’s go.”

It felt fast right from the off, but I hung in. I’d run ahead of Jon in our session the week before, so I was surprised he was going so fast. I must be tired from my long run a few days earlier, I started to think. Two miles in and I was struggling to keep up with them. “It’s just not my night,” I told myself. “Let them go. We all have off nights.” A gap began to grow. It felt a relief to untether myself, to ease off the pedal. But now I was drifting, slowing, as they started to disappear into the distance.

Remembering echos from our running day with Joe Kelly a few days earlier, I decided to focus on my form. In races I tend to either be pushing the pace, or falling apart. Maybe if I focused on the feeling of running smoothly, I could maintain a reasonable pace. Not pushing, not faltering. Imagine it’s 30km into a marathon, I thought (this was before Kiptum’s Chicago run). You’re tired, but you can still run a good time if you can hold it together and not fall apart.

It worked. Rather than grimacing and grinding, I started relaxing and trying to feel an easy flow. And the others began to come back to me.

By now we were over three miles in and starting to catch the runners who had set off earlier. It was strange, but each time I caught someone and passed them, I felt easier, smoother, faster. I’d cruise by like I was on the charge, effortless. Sure, that was the impression I wanted to give, so it was partly my ego, but I also felt it for real too, an ease of movement. But once past, it became more of an effort again. Until the next person, and suddenly I’d be zooming smoothly by, like a motorbike passing on a winding road. Out, past, in. A quick, easy movement of the throttle.

I finished just behind the others in my starting quartet, and when I compared my finishing time with my one previous effort on this course, back in March when I was feeling much fitter, I was almost a minute quicker this time. So it wasn’t such an off night after all.

Hopefully I can find that flow again when I really am struggling at 30km in my next marathon, rather than suffering my usual implosion. As it happens, I’ll get a chance to find out next April, as I’ve just entered the Manchester Marathon, my first actual road marathon in seven years. So let’s call this week one of marathon training. It feels like a good place to start.

* Having now watched his post-race interviews, where he was very shy and monosyllabic, I reckon Bolt’s position as the most famous athlete ever is pretty safe.