2025 Sydney Marathon – Andrew (Rudisha) Dodd
Race Date: Aug 31st Results: 2025
The Final Push
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I’m barrelling down the final hill at pace feeling strong and with growing excitement as there is just one kilometre to go in the 2025 Sydney Marathon. It’s the first time this race has been a ‘Major’ – joining the likes of Boston, New York and London - and it’s my first Major. It’s a very big deal – for everyone including the city of Sydney. Looking down the Macquarie Street gun barrel, I can see the waters of the majestic Sydney Harbour glistening on a spectacular sunny day. The Harbour Bridge – which we ran over in exhilarating fashion just after the start - is about to appear on the left and when we hit the bottom of this fast downhill section we’ll swing to the right for the final 195m with the Opera House and finish line straight ahead.
Marathon runners dream about this moment – indeed fantasize about it. There’s a couple of scenarios: you are behind goal time and you need a really quick finish to break goal time – or everything is going so well that you are going to smash your PB and be bathed in glory. I was running pretty well, feeling strong, with lots of energy and picking up momentum on the sizeable downhill stretch. But the race had not gone to plan. It was tough getting here. My nemesis – “the cramps” – first struck at 18k – and several times my right adductor seized up and the pain was so great I had to stop completely. I couldn’t even walk. My modest time goal was blown out of the water. But here I was, on the final downhill – feeling relatively good. At least I was going to finish with a spring in my step.
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Already today there had been several memorable moments or highlights, some quite emotional, and of course I envisaged one more in about five minutes time, just after that final right-hand turn. Little did I know that there were actually three special moments still ahead of me – and the first … the biggest … and most unexpected and emotional was just seconds away … from the large and enthusiastic crowd I heard someone from the cheering crowd call, “Doddy”.
The Journey & The Preparation
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I ran my first marathon in 1978 when I was still at Manly Boys’ High School at 16 years of age (which is now illegal). The second was two years later when I was at Sydney Uni and ran my one and only sub three. It’s been 47 years since my first marathon in Sydney and 45 years since my last. Two Harbord Diggers Coloneil’s Marathons – yes sponsored by Kentucky Fried Chicken (when I first told Paul M about this he didn’t believe me and envisaged a man dressed up like the Colonel handing out chicken drumsticks at aid stations) – on the Northern Beaches – my childhood stomping ground – starting and finishing at Manly Beach. Could a finish view get any more spectacular (spoiler alert – yes!). There was a four km loop around Manly then out along Pittwater Rd to Bayview and back with one lead police vehicle and a few “Caution Runners Ahead” signs. Road closures? Gels? Not invented yet, with minimal drink stops and defizzed coke was the drink of choice!
Then it was a long gap until my 40th birthday and then I basically ran a marathon a year – Fitzroy Falls Fire Trail Marathon, Six Foot Track, UTA50, Canberra, Melbourne and Gold Coast until age, injuries and covid kicked in. My most recent marathons were Gold Coast in 2018 Gold and a Boston Virtual during covid in Newcastle in 2020. I’ve slowed enormously. Could I still run another one?
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I had followed Sydney’s ‘Major’ progress with interest over their three year Candidate Race status. The event grew; the course was greatly improved as they sought to meet the criteria of around a hundred benchmarks to be added to the existing six for the Abbott World Marathon Majors. Through mutual running friends I got to know the Run Director a bit and kept in touch via messenger as the stakes got higher – we had a common bond on him now living in the street I grew up in!
And so the big announcement in November 2024 – Sydney’s bid was successful (another “The winner is Syd-e-ney” moment!) and the opportunity to apply to run my first major for Sydney’s first promotion to the Big 6 was too tempting. Without too much thinking I entered the ballot and only a few weeks later on 9th January I got the “you have been successful” email. 2025 was going to be a marathon year! But I had serious work to do.
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I followed the Coach Parry on-line training platform which specialises in “Fast Over 50” programs. I used this several times before and like its measured approach based on time rather than distance, not high volume for us oldies and with a lot of gym work. This suited me perfectly and I’d never followed a program so dutifully, enjoying and ticking off the sessions – be it long slow run, hill repeats, recovery or tempo. I stayed injury free – and booked in several massages along the way (thanks Aviano & Clint). I was also very diligent in my gym sessions with Clarkie at Up’n’Adam, often doing a couple of two hour run specific sessions a week. I chose a four-hour goal – which actually was ambitious for me since my significant decline after turning 60 (nearly four years ago). And yet I was happy and accepting about this. In the 2017 Canberra Marathon when aiming for 3:30 I cramped and hobbled home in just under 3:50. It seemed so slow and disastrous. In the 2018 Gold Coast Marathon I was again on track for 3:30 but faded late and managed to put in a final burst to sneak two seconds under 3:40. And now, a few years later – if everything went perfectly and if I had a really good day – four hours was the best possible outcome. I’d assessed my capability and was mildly ambitious – and excited about it. But then there was 317m of elevation to contend with and who knew what the conditions would be like on the verge of Spring. And would my nemesis, “the dreaded cramps” return? I was hopeful that my race day nutrition and hydration plan would work. I completed all the longer runs without too much hassle and without cramping – but overall, it was a low volume preparation.
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On marathon eve it was time to go to the Expo in Darling Harbour and pick up the bib, sign my name on the wall and get obligatory photos with Lloydie and Deek.
Race Day – Sunday 31st August 2025
Race Day! We caught the whiz bang metro from Kellyville where I got off Crows Nest – the designated stop for Wave 2 with a kilometre walk to the start - and Felicity continued to Victoria Cross for her first spectating spot. Excitement grew as more and more bibbed people got on at each station. There was a bit of nervous eye contact and chit chat amongst strangers bonded with single purpose and the same fears.
Nervous tension also brings other issues. The need to wee. I was able to resolve this in the nice grounds of a Baptist Church I remembered was nearby. A few days later I rang a pastoral colleague from that church and confessed. He didn’t bat an eyelid (on the phone) and reckoned that 50-60 people relieved themselves there in any given week. The backstory here is that I’m the pastor of Hamilton Baptist Church in Newcastle – and we were recently “removed” from the state denomination for our LGBT+ inclusion … and I knew this church was an ally. The online Runner’s Guide made it clear that in Australia public urination was illegal.
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It was an early start, getting up at 4:30 am, and onto the metro by 5:15. The wave with the elites (namely Eliud Kipchoge and Sifan Hassan) and the other quicks was starting at 6:30 am. Our wave started from 7:03 am so I had about an hour’s wait in the start precinct. The one kilometre walk was a great way to wake up the body and I managed to get in my usual pre-run routine – which gives one a great sense of assurance. It was a crisp cool morning with not a cloud in the sky. There was a small amount of group anxiety about exactly how Wave 2 was to replace Wave 1 on Miller Street. There was a bit of herd mentality in the cordoned off surrounds – another wee in some bushes - you could sense the nervous tension. The City2Surf is the big fun event of the year which I’ve run several times recently. It’s such a fun and enjoyable event (even with this year’s downpour) with a testing hilly course but the 14k is well achievable by the masses. There is something much more serious and daunting about a marathon – the stakes are much higher. You can feel it in the air.
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The Start
As we got onto Miller St and started walking towards the start line a few hundred metres ahead there was growing excitement. It was a bit cool (the way I like it) and after shedding our throw aways I was shaking a bit and so were others. Part cold. Part nerves. I don’t recall ever being this excited at the start of an event – excitement tinged with the reality of what’s ahead. I became quite emotional as we neared the start line and broke into a bit of a trot just before the start mats. We were away. My first marathon in several years and my first major – was underway. It was so exciting. And it was a privilege to be here … along with so many others. It was about 7:40 am.
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My first landmark was a kilometre down the road – being careful – not to go too quick. Felicity would be waiting at Miller St at Victoria Cross outside the old – now derelict – MLC building. This building has huge significance for me. When our family drove into the city when I was a kid we’d look for the flashing lights of the weather beacon on top displaying forecasts in coded fashion. The building is now totally dwarfed by more modern buildings. It was also the place of my first full-time job where I worked as a computer programmer for MLC Insurance on the seventh floor in the early 1980s and have many many happy and positive memories. Sure enough, Felicity was there cheering me on and it was comforting to have everything falling into place. Immediately we were heading for the bridge and so much anticipation – one of the anticipated highlights would come so early. At the first available space out of the public eye as we ran on the bridge approach there was a line-up of males relieving themselves on the right at a concrete “urinal”. It looked quite comical – and when some saw the chance they cut right in front of me to get there. But I was good. You hardly notice the first serious incline of the course up to the bridge and before we knew it we were running between the pylons. There was so much joy and glee in the peloton – as we crossed this iconic structure, a shared memory with strangers but kindred spirits, and then a nice long downhill. The only downside was a runner in thongs and with a surfboard cutting across runners – including me – in carefree fashion. He ended up with some publicity for this running feat. Another danger in a marathon is going out too fast at the start. Of course you feel good. This is compounded here as the first 5k is largely downhill with the already noted false flat approaching the bridge. I needed to average around 5:40 min/km to go sub 4 – and I was aiming for 5:50s in the first quarter or so. I checked my Garmin and was averaging 5:38 – not crazy fast – but what do you do … there is a lot of downhill you want to take advantage of. But for the next several kilometres I was consciously holding back and feeling good.
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I was not very familiar with the next 7-8 km around Pyrmont and how it would play out … but everything seemed to be going well. Unexpectedly someone called out “Go Doddy” and I looked back to recognise a familiar Newy face – Chris and his family spectating and cheering on anyone in Flyer’s kit. I was amazed how much this personalized level of support helped and it gave me a spring in my step (fyi I ran in my normal Hoka Clifton training shoes – not my carbon plated Nike Super Flys) for a couple of kms. Throughout the race I would see runners spot someone they knew – there would be shrieks of excitement, hugs and tears. While you largely run the course on your own and in your own mind space its very much a shared journey and the personal support is invaluable.
We ran down Harris St towards Johnstons Bay (next to Darling Harbour) and four weeks later I was able to look back up that street from the top deck of a cruise ship at White Bay prior to departure of a four-day trip. Indeed, the beautiful sunset leg out of the harbour gave great views of some of the marathon and City2Surf courses (see photo of medal with Opera House backdrop).
10k was passed uneventfully with a 29:11 5k split, I was pretty much where I wanted to be and feeling how I wanted and passed the ¼ marathon mark in a tick over an hour. Things were very much on track, but could I keep this up? It was nice to then run under the bridge at Dawes Point – another landmark to mark off – and to sneak a look over to the finish area across the harbour – so close yet so far!
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At around 13k just after we’d rounded Circular Quay and turned into Pitt Street with some hills ahead, I stopped for my first scheduled walk break (part of the Coach Parry strategy) and refuelled. I had carried in my hand my first Precision 90 gel (3 in total) and drank some electrolytes from my soft flask. I had gone against convention and only finalised my new shorts, running undies and belt (for phone) the day before at parkrun. Not advisable to have this sorted so late but that’s the way it rolled this time around and it basically worked really well, though here with a bit of stuffing around I took perhaps a minute more than hoped. I got back into my rhythm and there was some inclines and I felt for the first time I was beginning to slow. As we neared Hyde Park I could see a few of the highly placed men including Brett Robinson (to whom I called out “Go Brad”?? – knowing it wasn’t quite right) and then out of the corner of my eye I saw the lead women’s vehicle come out of the Domain area and the familiar gait of a smiling Hassan striding along at pace going the other way – I instinctively tuned my head and yelled out “Go Sifan”. I wonder what it’s like having people yell your name encouragingly and loudly throughout the whole event! And there was plenty of crowd support at Hyde Park and I knew Felicity would be around somewhere – but wasn’t quite sure where. She saw me and called out but unfortunately, I didn’t see or hear her. Then the most significant climb up Oxford St. I tried to stay focussed but also keeping an eye out for those heading the other way – a couple of Flyers shirts and then Robbo haring down the hill, looking somewhat smashed but determined and not far behind his designated and ambitious pace group. I knew if he didn’t cramp (another chronic cramper) and held it together he’d do well. I yelled something out to him … maybe a bit too aggressively (he went on to sneak a PB in just over 2:50).
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Mid-Race
The Oxford St hill was nowhere near as tough as I was expecting and there were plenty of rainbow celebrations at the top and a lively vibe. The crowd support from hereon in was fantastic and the many volunteers added to this with their enthusiasm. A common retort I give to them after their support is, “Next year I’ll volunteer and you can run”.
At 16k I took stock, the heavy lifting of the hills for now was done and it would be relatively flat for a while. I knew that with the same effort my km splits were slowing just a bit and I was able to regroup after the hills. Overall things were looking good and I was feeling OK knowing that there were long somewhat boring straight roads ahead for a while.
At 16k I took stock, the heavy lifting of the hills for now was done and it would be relatively flat for a while. I knew that with the same effort my km splits were slowing just a bit and I was able to regroup after the hills. Overall things were looking good and I was feeling OK knowing that there were long somewhat boring straight roads ahead for a while.
At 17k just a slight feeling in my right adductor that shouldn’t have been there – certainly not at this stage. My long runs had gone well with no real issues in that department. Then as we neared the little mile detour to make up the distance up Dacey St between Moore Park Golf Course and ES Marks Athletics track – the cramp kicked in. After a couple of hundred metres it brought me to a complete standstill. I whipped at my Cramp Fix and braced myself for the terrible taste – it didn’t disappoint. It’s like drinking vinegar and apparently that sudden reaction is part of its genius. It’s one of those things from past experience you just believe in, maybe like going to the dentist (sorry Agnes) – you know it’s good for you. And it was. I gingerly set off and at least I could move. In a moment everything changes. From feeling OK and on track and hopeful – to the realisation that any goal times were now out the window and from now its was a matter of “managing” yourself home. I’d been there before – lots of times - but it still sucked. Main problem here is it was so early in the race. What did the remaining 24km hold? Would I be predominantly walking home? And I’d just blown one of only two Fixes. As we turned right back on Anzac Parade I glanced up at the athletic track for some inspiration. A lifetime ago I’d set PBs there for 800m,1500m and 5000m running for Sydney Uni and had also met the Olympic Gold Medallist Bronislaw Malinowski (Moscow 1980 Steeple Chase from Poland, who died shortly afterwards in a car crash). But I was running much slower these days but did manage to get back to sub sixes – passing halfway in 2:06 (the same as Hailemaryan Kiros Kebedew from Ethiopia’s overall winning time). Another stop – this time much more efficient - for a drink and short walk at 23k the turnaround point – all part of the new conservative management strategy. It seemed like a helluva long way back to the Moore Park precinct before turning into the loopy part past the SCG and into Centennial Park and its where you see lots of runners several kilometres ahead – and think how you’d love to be where they are. This is where my pace started to drop while moving with the same effort and you knew there was no coming back – the deterioration was likely to continue. But the cramps hadn’t returned and I was past 30km. Small miracles. However, they struck again in the Centennial Park loop, at first I resisted using my final Fix but then had to when I couldn’t walk and had to hold onto a metal barrier for support. Again, it worked but I was now out of solutions and I sensed more cramps were not far away. One helpful thing was running back with the SCG on your right you saw folk running the other way who were wishing they were where you were!
As we left the whole Moore Park area and heading back onto Anzac Parade someone called out to me and I recognized Amy who I’d chatted with at Forster RunFest just a couple of weeks earlier where I had been the event MC and next to her was Rene’ who I’d interviewed after she won the ‘Treble’. I didn’t need to stop but I was nearly done and a quick chat seemed like a good idea. Rene held up several gels like a pack of card and said, “what do you want?” I was fine in that department but asked “what have you got for cramps? She shuffled the deck and out popped a cramp fix – just like the ones I’d been using. I was so happy to take it and clutched in my left hand like an insurance policy. I didn’t need it at the time but it was so helpful and such a nice running community gesture.
The End Game and the Three Special Moments
I was at least confident now that I’d get there and pretty much stopped looking at my watch, but I knew my time was blowing out – even though I was making steady progress. Running back with Hyde Park on my left I was able to have a quick chat with Felicity and get an update on Lachie (who I’d last paced for a bit at Gold Coast Marathon in July) -who had already finished (with a surprising much improved time given his injuries and lack of training). Then as I was heading down into the Domain and the Royal Botanical Gardens, there was another encouraging shoutout, this time from a Newcastle family. At the turnaround near Mrs Macquarie’s Chair where I did a short walk around an incline – thinking I’d be able to run all the way to the finish from there which was just across Farm Cove. I also gave a thought to my great grandfather George John Freeman, a photographer of note, who took a picture of the Chair in around 1870 that features in the official bicentenary book of the botanical gardens. Again, a sneak peek to the finish line knowing it was only 2km away the long way – the way we had to run. On an Australia Day many years ago, I swam 2km around Farm Cove! I was feeling OK but knew my pace was slow and there was the final rise out of the Domain to contend with. Bang. Out of nowhere the adductor seized up again – I downed my insurance policy and slowly made my way up the hill. It was nice to get to the Sifan turn – knowing it was all downhill from here.
I thought I might see Felicity again in the final stretch – if so, no need to chat – just a wave and hotfoot it to the finish.
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Back to the start of the report: “Already there had been several memorable moments or highlights, some quite emotional, and of course I envisaged one more in about five minutes time, just after that final right hand turn. Little did I know that there were actually three highlights still ahead of me – and the first … the biggest … and most unexpected and emotional was just seconds away … from the large and enthusiastic crowd I heard someone from the left call ‘Doddy’.”
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Unsurprisingly, it was Felicity (who always calls me Andrew but knows that in events only “Doddy” or “The Doddfather” will get my attention . But when I turned around she was far more animated than I’d expected, and she was pointing excitedly to someone. It was my eldest daughter Anna, my first born, with whom I share my initials. It was a complete shock. She lives in Sydney and knew I was running and I had explained how she could track me. Unbeknown to me is that she’d called Felicity only about ten minutes earlier and said she was in the city and might come and watch. Felicity checked her location and told her to run as I was scheduled to come by in a few minutes. She just made it. When I saw her, I completely lost it (in a nice way). It took a few seconds to process. I stopped and ran back and gave her a big hug and told her I loved her. She then ran a hundred or so metres with me on the other side of the barrier (video footage from her perspective available). That highlight would not be beaten – but there were still two more to come.
I knew from the kilometre marker and my Garmin that I’d be running well over 42.196 km (actually 42.760 km) and I wasn’t really sure of my time. I’d stopped looking at my watch and I knew I’d slowed. I snuck a glance – maybe hoping for 4:20 or 4:25. I was quite surprised when it was closing in on 4:40 but I didn’t really mind.
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The Harbour Bridge came into view on the left and then I heard some voices shouting encouragement from within the recovery area precinct on the right – later to find out it was Simmo, Gilbo and Agnes (my dentist) – and they had all run well. It was the final assistance I needed, and I would be floating home from here. I hit the bottom of Macquarie St and there was the finish line and the Opera House just ahead. In all the excitement I missed out on Lloydie yelling out to me from the VIP enclosure!
I crossed the line in 4:39:18 and made it across the line 9 seconds before midday! Another highlight. Clint, my masseur, had encouraged me to think of my own finish gesture while I ran to use as I crossed the line - and I put my two hands together and pushed them forward in a massaging way!!
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I was so excited and euphoric. Plenty of noise from the crowd and people cheering from the Opera House steps. For people they knew and for complete strangers. And then a hand from someone in an official’s vest pushed forward and said, “Congratulations Doddy”. It was Race Director Wayne Larden. I was blown away. I knew he had a 2am start with Lloydie to check traffic control. He would have had many “fires” to put out during the morning, and I don’t know if he’d been in the finish shute all morning or not. He was there for the winners soon after 8am and now at midday he was there looking out for the runners. And I later thought – how nice for him to do that – for himself and the others. I was quite stunned. A minute or so later I went back and found him to take a selfie and give him a big hug. I gestured with my hand to the finishers and the iconic scenery, “On behalf of 35,000 runners, thank you for giving us the experience of our life”. I meant it and I was quite emotional.
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I was a bit tired but mainly euphoric. I had enjoyed the whole journey from ballot to the challenges of training to race day. Yes, I had my moments during the race but the whole thing was a thrill and a privilege. With over 50 years of competitive running in me – I think I can say this has been the most thrilling and memorable running event I have been a part of. Everybody in the finish area seemed happy and there was a sense that we had been part of something special (thanks Bruce MaCavaney). Yes, I had the typical post marathon shuffle – walking back up Macquarie St and climbing up the stairs of a temporary structure over the street and down the other side. But it was so worth it. I’d had the full marathon experience.
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