How To Run A Marathon - Part 2
I did it! I completed the Brighton Marathon. It is one of the proudest moments of my life. All the months of training, every step I took in every run, the times I did a workout even when I didn’t want to, and all the emotions that come with that (some might say “blood, sweat, and tears”). Everything came down to one day and one opportunity to deliver on the promise I made myself to overcome this mammoth task, and that’s why running is so worth it!
This article is for those who haven’t yet completed a marathon. Maybe you’ve just signed up for one and are feeling those unfamiliar butterflies in your stomach when you imagine yourself on race day.
Arrival
The stress started weeks before the event. I anticipated heavy traffic and impossible parking opportunities in Brighton (travelling from Portsmouth), so I booked an all-day parking slot on someone’s driveway in Brighton in advance. I glanced at the distance away from the start (Preston Park) and saw 1.5 miles. I thought, “That will be fine, it’s not that far”. That was a mistake. Brighton is very hilly, and I almost wore my legs out before arriving at the start line. Not to mention the distance from the finish line to the car—it was 4 miles. I didn’t think of that before, my mind was focused on the race.
So, lesson number one of marathon day is logistics. Make sure you know how you’re getting to the start line, but don’t overthink it. Trust that you will get there in plenty of time.
The Nervous Anticipation
I took a final toilet break, ate a banana, and got myself ready for the race. I was shivering with nervous energy and was feeling cold (which made pinning my bib slightly harder), but I tried my best to embrace it. There are not many opportunities in life where you get to feel this alive. The energy of marathon day is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. You’re surrounded by thousands of other people who have made the questionable decision to run 26.2 miles. Strange characters…
30 minutes before my start time (9:59 am), I made my way into the allotted wave section.
We were segregated into waves and released onto the streets of Brighton. This was my opportunity to put my earphones in and focus on the task, soaking up everything.
My goal for this marathon was to overcome my first marathon “trauma” to finish it in under 4 hours. And in a strange coincidence, while waiting in the pen, I looked to my right and noticed the 4-hour pacer. My goal changed at that moment. It was now to not see that man for the rest of the day.
The Marathon Breakdown
The Beginning - Mile 0-6
Mile 1 - 9:08 min/ mile
I feared the worst. The energy at the start was great, but I struggled to settle on my target pace, and my shins were filling with lactic acid already. I worried about toilet breaks throughout the race, and felt overwhelmed knowing that I was actually doing the marathon.
This is normal, though.
90% of my training runs began with a fleet of negative thoughts and feelings of adversity. The key was to push through by staying present, rather than pre-empting how I’m going to feel at mile 26.
Mile 2 - 8:55 min/ mile
Still overwhelmed by the occasion, but trying to enjoy it and settle into a rhythm. I watched people speed past me, I weaved past slower runners, and glanced at my watch every 30 seconds to make sure I wasn’t going too slow or too fast. “Only” 24 miles to go…
Mile 3 - 8:58 min/ mile
After the tsunami of people at the start, this was the first section where I felt the amazing energy of the Brighton Marathon. Supporters lined the road, holding their funny banners and cheering on thousands of strangers. Special.
It helped a lot. This is when I started to feel the heat, and my mindset switched to breaking down the marathon into quarter sections. I did this a lot in training. Simply aiming to reach the next 10km, 5 miles, or whatever it was to inject my brain with the dopamine of achievement it craves is a huge competitive advantage. If you spend the entire run focused on the size of the task, you’ll find it a lot harder.
Mile 4 - 9:02 min/ mile
The rows of supportive spectators continued, there must have been over 100,000 people in Brighton on that day—I’m going to sound like a broken record, but it was special. My only regret is that I didn’t fully soak in these moments on the run; I was too focused on how good it would feel when I stopped my watch somewhere along the seafront.
Mile 5 - 8:51 min/ mile
A flying section for me with a ton of support and shade from the sun. I found that, because of my regular hill training, any incline was my superpower. It forced me to forget all the negativity and lock in. You can either slow down because of the increased pain or get your head down and embrace the machine mentality I was trying to adopt.
Mile 6 - 8:49 min/ mile
GEL TIME! I had my first energy gel here, which instantly injected a second wind. Maybe it was a placebo, or a mixture of the busy section with a lot of crowds, but I was feeling good and ready for what was to come. It was the exact boost I needed to bring me to the present moment and really start to enjoy the event rather than fear the inevitable pain.
The Lonely Section - Mile 7-14
Mile 7 - 9:00 min/ mile
Again, a long shaded section followed by a fairly steep hill, which I quietly loved. I got extra energy from speeding past people walking up the hill along a tight road with supporters on either side.
I studied the course before arriving, and knew this next section was going to be one of the toughest, especially with the forecasted headwind for the next 4-5 miles. I was ready for it.
Mile 8 - 8:52 min/ mile
The ‘lonely’ section of the course began, and I was flying ahead for some reason.
Perhaps the quiet solitude of no sounds other than running shoes hitting the tarmac is what I was used to. The headwind actually worked in my favour, too. Normally, running along Southsea seafront (the usual location for a lot of my training runs) and facing a headwind made me extremely grumpy. But I don’t think I could have completed sub-4 without it on this day.
The wind wasn’t too strong, and it kept me cool under the sun along the south coast with no shelter.
Mile 9 - 8:55 min/ mile
I was locked in. Continued momentum and edging ever closer to that illustrious double-digit mile I was waiting for (because that meant I was just a long training run away from finishing).
Mile 10 - 8:55 min/ mile
By this point, I was starting to get bored with the lonely section. When is this going to end? Where is the turning point? The undulating roads seemingly went on forever as we got further and further away from the intense support of Brighton crowds. My pace remained strong, though, so I was happy.
Mile 11 - 8:57 min/ mile
More of the same. I mentioned earlier that I was trying to adopt a machine mindset. My mindset was one which left no room for failure, and that’s how I thrive.
When you’re in this section where you’ve been running for over an hour and a half, but you’re still not even halfway to the finish yet, it can be tough mentally and physically. This is where you have a choice, and trust me, you always have a choice with how you react to anything. The choice is to think negatively or positively. Can you guess which one helps you complete a marathon?
Mile 12 - 8:59 min/ mile
I took my second gel of the day here to try and get me through the last bit of the section before the halfway point, and the crowds returned. I passed someone on the side of the road with paramedics around them, which instilled some fear in me.
However, this was the point where we finally turned around to head back towards Brighton. I expected an easy section with smooth downhill and a tailwind, but I found it more challenging. There wasn’t a tailwind, and the sun beamed down on my which made hydration even more important.
Mile 13 - 9:05 min/ mile
The halfway point, and I put my headphones in for the first time. The water bottle I had prepared to carry with me while running (it included 5g of creatine monohydrate and an electrolyte table) was empty, so I was now to rely on water stations for my hydration.
Mile 14 - 9:02 min/ mile
With my headphones in and a podcast recording, I gave my mind a break from the constant worry that I was going to run out of energy and not finish the race. I stayed strong with my target pace up to this point, and I was ready for the energy of the crowds to lift me back up.
The Mental Battle - Mile 15-19
Mile 15 - 9:00 min/ mile
The power of breaking down the sections of the run came in clutch here. “It’s only an hour and a half of running” was running through my head a lot as I approached the latter stages of the race.
Mile 16 - 9:01 min/ mile
This was the “home stretch”, or at least that was how I framed it. The fear that I would not be able to finish as strongly as I’d like remained, but I was still putting one foot in front of the other as I had done for the previous 16 miles.
Mile 17 - 9:19 min/ mile
I was well and truly in the pain cave.
I had missed the previous water station, so I was left baking under the sun with no means of hydration, and it was all I could think about as I ran along the Brighton seafront. The constant energy from the crowds picked me up, but I was beginning to let my mind slip from pain and dehydration.
Mile 18 - 9:10 min/ mile
The pace didn’t reflect it, but I started feeling more positive here. I was approaching the finish line on the other side of the road, and although it was still 8 miles away, I felt confident that all I had to do was run for 8 more miles, something that I had done with ease in training.
I’m lucky that pain is rarely an issue with me when I’m running. Over the years, I’ve progressively built up the distance, intensity, and frequency of my runs (and included strength training in my plan), so pain is rarely a limiting factor. However, my knees, feet and hip flexors were starting to feel the effects of every step at this point. It was only acute, but it slowed my pace down without me realising until looking at my watch.
Mile 19 - 9:13 min/ mile
This was mentally challenging. As I turned off the seafront onto Hove, I had just seen the finish line on my left, and the 23-mile mark on the other side of the road. I felt so close yet so far away from the end, and I didn’t anticipate how long this final section would be.
The Final Stretch ft. The Pain Cave - Mile 20-25
Mile 20 - 9:16 min/ mile
“Only 10km to go”, repeated through my head as each step got harder and harder to keep on pace. I struggled even more after looking ahead at the length of this straight road and wondering when does it end?!
Mile 21 - 9:23 min/ mile
I’d never seen so many people walking and struggling with the run until this point. It was tough. So close yet so far away from the finish line, but I had come this far already without stopping, and I was going to do everything I could to keep it going until the bitter end. I knew by now that the last mile and a bit would be made a lot easier knowing it was the final stretch.
Mile 22 - 9:06 min/ mile
The long road continued. This was now officially the furthest I had ever run. I don’t count my first marathon as my longest run because I probably walked 15% of it. And even my training runs, they included short breaks throughout. This was continuous. I hadn’t stopped running since the start line, and I wasn’t going to stop until I reached the end.
Mile 23 - 9:10 min/ mile
This was what I had been longing for ever since I turned off into Hove. I knew this was it, the final stretch. All that was remaining was 5 kilometres. This knowledge that the end was near carried me towards the end, as my mental strength increased along with the pain in my legs.
Mile 24 - 9:05 min/ mile
I had hoped for an easy stretch to the finish, but as was the theme for the Brighton Marathon, it seemed as though the roads went on forever. I was counting down the minutes and miles remaining with every step, and starting to realise that I was going to do it!
Mile 25 - 9:03 min/ mile
This was it. I picked up a water bottle from the final aid station, and, filled with energy and anticipation of the finish line, I picked up the pace.
The Fastest Split - Mile 26
Mile 26 - 8:36 min/ mile
My eyes focused forward, my legs moving automatically for my fastest split of the marathon, and soaking up atmosphere as the crowds got louder and louder towards the finish line.
Mile 26.2 - 8:01 min/ mile
A final look down at my watch to see my flying pace and knowing that, for certain this time, I was going to achieve my goal of running a marathon in under 4 hours.
3 hours and 58 minutes was my official bib time, but my watch says 3 hours, 56 minutes, and 39 seconds.
I made it, but I wasn’t expecting what happened as soon as I stopped. I stopped my watch and my body had its first opportunity to relax for 4 hours. My knees seized up, the pain started building, but my emotions took over. After picking up my medal and finisher t-shirt, I searched for my parents (and my Mum’s guide dog, Revel), who had been there supporting me. I let out all my emotions that had built up from over 3 months, 400 miles, and countless steps of training.
I find it easy to pick apart my performance, but I’m unbelievable proud of myself for carrying on and pushing through the pain to beat my goal by 2 minutes and not stop for a break at any point during the run.
For the rest of the day, I was nursing my pain, eating lots of food, and telling myself that I’d never run a marathon again. At the time of writing this (one day after the race), I’m starting to think about a sub-3:30 marathon…
Crossing that finish line meant so much more to me than just beating 4 hours. It was about proving to myself that I could finish strong, overcome my past experience, and show up when it mattered most.
If you're thinking of running a marathon, here’s my advice:
Train consistently, varying the types of runs and progressively increasing the intensity, frequency, and distance.
Fuel before you think you need to (before, during, and after).
Plan your race day in detail so there are no surprises.
Break the race into chunks.
Remember you’ll always have a choice in how you respond to pain. Choose to keep going.
