ATHLETICS/Dublin Marathon: For the gambling man yesterday's Dublin Marathon was the perfect race. When Aleksey Sokolov took off from the starter's pistol and promptly opened an impressive lead, the classic 26.2-mile distance turned into one irresistible bet - will he or won't he hang on?

Those of us in the media bus enjoying coffee and chocolate muffins laid down our wagers.

"No chance," said Jerry Kiernan at around halfway, at which stage Sokolov was almost two minutes clear of the chasing group. Kiernan knew what he was talking about; back in 1982 he had adopted similar tactics and nearly killed himself in hanging on to win.

And Sokolov seemed like a novice. He was Russian champion last year but had hardly been heard of elsewhere. He also had a posse of Africans giving chase. When Kenya's Wesley Ngetich closed the gap to 90-odd seconds around 20 miles the odds shifted in his favour. And for Sokolov, there was still that small matter of "the wall" to come.

Wait until his legs go, we thought. Wait for those shoulders to bunch. Shockingly, the busful of so-called experts got it all wrong.

Sokolov, in fact, maintained his relentless tempo over the closing six miles, motoring to the finish on Merrion Square without the slightest sign of fatigue. His reward for victory came in two forms: a race record of two hours, 11 minutes and 39 seconds, and €20,000.

He had destroyed the African challenge and was without a doubt the most daring and convincing winner in the race's 27-year history.

Oleksandr Kuzin of the Ukraine came through to take second in 2:13:11 - just three seconds outside the old record, set in 2004 - with Kenya's Edwin Komen third in 2:13:26. Ngetich faded to eighth, while last year's winner, Dmytro Osadchy, also of the Ukraine, had to settle for fourth.

The fine autumn day and gentle breeze were made for distance running, yet Sokolov's 2:11:39 would hold up well in any big-city marathon. Later, with his manager acting as interpreter, the 26-year-old army sergeant from St Petersburg described the winning feeling.

"I do like to lead my races like that, but the problem was I never knew how far ahead I was. But that was the plan, yes, to go from the start and set up a fast race. There was a lot of headwind in the second half . . . but the course I did like."

Asked what he would do with his prize-money - €15,000 for winning and €5,000 for going sub-2:12 - Sokolov sensibly replied, "Put it towards buying an apartment. Property in Russia has gone very expensive, but this will help a little."

He had taken leave from the army to train full-time, clocking around 150 miles a week, and now hopes to represent Russia in the Beijing Olympics in 2008. He clearly has the pedigree to achieve that.

His splits were remarkably consistent and impressive: 10 miles in 49:48, 15 in 1:15:18, and 20 in 1:40:30. He clocked several sub-five-minute miles - and all without company, and with sparse-enough crowds en route to offer encouragement.

Passing the 12-mile mark, on Crumlin Road, he was two-and-a-half minutes up. The chasing group of 11 were still bunched and, like us, must have figured he would falter. His style wasn't the smoothest and yet it was efficient; he wasn't afraid to attack the gradients around Milltown and Clonskeagh - and in the end he proved a truly deserving winner.

Russia provided an equally convincing winner of the women's race, Alina Ivanova pressing ahead around the 10-mile mark to finish in 2:29:49. That left her just over two minutes clear of Scotland's Hayley Haining, who posted 2:31:51. Larisa Zyusko, another Russian, was third in 2:33:09.

A former winner of the Prague, Hong Kong, Pittsburgh and Sydney marathons, Ivanova (37) missed the 2:27:22 race record but also earned herself €15,000, and another €2,000 for going sub-2:30.

"I'm very, very happy to win in Dublin," she said, before kindly spelling the name of her home town: "C-h-e-b-o-k-s-a-r-y."

One of the ironies of marathon running is that the winners typically look freshest of all at the finish - and Sokolov and Ivanova looked like they could do a lap of honour.

Later, as the 10,000-strong field steadily filed across the finish line on Merrion Square there was hardly a fresh face to be seen. In the marathon, everybody hurts - except maybe the winners.