It’s easy to understate the sadness you can feel whilst training for your first marathon, especially if you’re running on your own.

I remember lots of people were donating to my charity fund and yet I was thinking to myself “how the fuck can you possibly call yourself a marathon runner when you had to stop for breath on your list 14 mile run? You’re a loser”

Those negative thoughts can easily form into a loop that will send you into despair if you let it continue. Here are some ways to stop yourself from feeling that hopeless.

How not to fall into the way of despair whilst training for your first race.

1. Stop over thinking the scale of the task – If you only started running a few months ago then the chances are that you’ll be worried about how you can possibly continue running for upwards of 4 to 5 hours particularly if you struggle to run for an hour as it stands. You’re covering a long distance in 26.2 miles, but it is not undoable if you stick to a training schedule.
2. Don’t worry if you miss a few long runs – Sometimes life just happens. In my first marathon training schedule I missed a 16 mile run and thought it was the end of the world. When you haven’t completed a long distance race before you can start to assume that your training will capitulate if you miss any long runs. It’s perfectly reasonable to miss one or 2 of your workouts – just try not to turn it into a habit.
3. Concentrate first and foremost on time spent on feet in your training runs if you’re worried about not finishing – It’s so easy to get lost in all of the finer details of marathon training such as your pace, heart rate, weekly miles and other statistics that you lose perspective on what you’re trying to accomplish. For example when training for Belfast I did not allow myself to complete a single training run in a pace slower than 10:18 min/mile as I was aiming for a sub 4 hours 30 minutes race.  My problem was I couldn’t run maintain that pace for any longer than 13.1 miles without my body breaking down. This made my last few 16 and 18+ milers extremely difficult. Eventually I made the decision to drop my pace to a 11 minute mile so that I could complete the distance. I could have improved the efficiency of my training by dropping my long run pace to a 11 minute mile from week one, covered the distances I needed to and worked upwards from there.
4. Expect to reach a point in your marathon training where you’ll lose all interest in running – If you’ve committed to your first ever 18 week marathon training schedule, then at some point you’ll question whether all of the time you’ve dedicated to your training is worthwhile. You won’t want to run. You will want to eat junk food. Relax, this is perfectly normal and you’re not having a crisis! Just keep going and trust that it will pass given time.
5. Quitting is OK contrary to what the experts say – I don’t know how many fucking times I quit training when I first started. I’d have one bad run and think “This is fucking hopeless! I’m not a runner! That’s it! I quit!”. The important thing was that I restarted again the next morning with a “I’ll give this one more shot!” attitude. It’s that attitude that will see you through your last 10k of the race. So if you’re gonna quit, just make sure that you’re prepared to restart again very soon.
6. Don’t leave all of your training to the last minute – The best way to fall into the way of hopelessness is to leave everything until the last few weeks. Stick to your training schedule and chip away at the problem as you go along.  The chances are that if you don’t feel like running now, then you won’t to do it either in 4 weeks time before race day. Consider your training a nest egg that you invest into. You will reap all of the rewards of that nest egg once you cross that finish line!
7. Comparing yourself to other runners will increase your levels of distress – I remember Googling and being distraught at the thought of finishing in a slower time than Oprah Winfrey. This was a huge fucking hang-up for me! Whilst comparing your times to other runners can be helpful in providing you with motivation, you have to run your own race ultimately.

How did you cope with falling into hopelessness when you were running your own first race?

I was still on a high this morning after my first ever sub 2 hour half marathon, yesterday afternoon. I’d drank a little much whiskey to celebrate and awoke at 5am with a mild hangover which disappeared after I fell back to sleep.

I started the day off properly with a trip to the shop where I bought a can of Cherry Coke, a packet of Cheestrings, Blackcurrant Chewits and a tube of Strawberry Millions for breakfast.

A meal fit for a King!

Should I run or not?

I dunno about you, but I struggle to decide whether I should run or not after a ‘hard’ session. It’s difficult to balance  the risk to reward ratio. Would I really benefit from another run today or would it be best to just recover?

For the first few hours today I was gonna go down the recovery route as the weather wasn’t great outside.

Then the sun came out for a while and I thought ‘fuck it’.

Running into the hills.

I ran up into the East Antrim hills again to try to kill any remnants of the hangover and to just have some time to myself. I didn’t concentrate on pace but I was aware that if I ran around the full route I’d record another half marathon.

After about 90 minutes of running in the wilderness I came across a sheep that had escaped from it’s field.

I spotted it before it spotted me and when it did realize I was behind it, it bolted on down the road at about twice the speed I was running. This game of cat and mouse (or man vs sheep) went on for about half a fucking mile.

It was fucking annoying as I was worried that it was gonna turn around at any moment, attack and then smother me.

This is no way for a man to die (especially since I’m from Northern Ireland and the coroner would have automatically assumed that I was trying to fuck it.)

Suicidal Mr Fox

Thankfully the sheep saw sense and found a field to rest in. It was at least half a mile away from where it started, but it meant I could rest my mind a little.

Or so I thought.

I was only a mile on down the road and came across a fox that was running away from me again. A Jeep came up the road towards me, making the fox freak out and run straight into the vehicle’s path.

I dunno how it managed to avoid the Jeep, but for a moment I thought I was certain I was gonna have to help mop up fox carcass.

It clambered up onto the verge and escaped into a field.

The lucky bastard.

This is why I don’t like running in the country.

As much as I might complain about small dogs and idiotic pedestrians, there’s never really any death in the town.

There’s always something fucking dying in the country, be it badgers, farmer’s wives or squirrels.

It’s fucking terrifying and off-putting.

I run to get away from my problems, not to witness the circle of fucking life churning on before my very eyes.

Another day and another half marathon.

Despite having to stop to take a stone out of my shoe, I managed to carry on and record another half marathon. This is my 3rd one in 5 days and I ran it 30 seconds more quickly than Lisburn.

I’m really delighted with this as I wasn’t trying for speed (if I had, I’d have risked injury and that’s obviously the last thing I want).

In total I ran 48 miles this week, which is the most I’ve managed in about 6 months. I finally feel like I’m making some sort of progress with running and there are 2 factors involved here.

1. More hill running – These country hill runs are increasing the strength in my legs. I now feel comfortable running at a 9:20 minute/mile pace, whereas before 9:40 minute/mile was my default pace. Hills definitely make running on flat much easier.
2. Longer ‘short’ runs – My shortest run this week was 8 miles. I’ve been trying to narrow the difference between my long and short runs for the past few months and 10 mile short runs have become standard for me. I’m now confident at going past 10 miles.

Anyway I think I’m gonna run the Ards Half Marathon on Friday and rest until Wednesday. Friday may well be the day that I finally crack 2 hours in a race!

My 2 runs at the weekend left me a little worried about my pace.

In the week leading up to my shin splints, I had been making great progress with both my speed and distance and when injury struck I was forced into resting for 5 days it all seemed to fall apart.

Fortunately I proved that my training sub 2-hour half marathon wasn’t a one-off,

Positive thinking on the run.

I didn’t go out with speed work in mind. If I told myself from the start that I had to sustain a 9 minute mile pace for an entire run, I’d cave under the pressure.

I kept all inner chat positive by striving to be well under a 10 minute mile average. This might seem totally unambitious, but it’s merely a ploy to con my mind into a positive state.

What I’ve noticed is that I am more likely to do speed bursts when I’m happy and confident on the run. If my body is sluggish to start, then my mind will react with negative thoughts and I’ll react by tensing up.

Under promise, over deliver.

So by keeping my target pace low, I exceed my expectations and believe that I’m succeeding.

My mind and body react to the positivity and I begin to run much better than normal.

This feeds back into my mind and I then throw even more speed bursts into the mix and it feels amazing.

My new target – run 10 miles as close to 90 minutes as often as possible.

My next half marathon in Dublin in August will be a sub 2 hour run for me. To train for it I’m gonna keep running 10 miles but come as close to 90 minutes as I can on each workout.

If I can run the first 10 miles in 90 minutes, that leaves me with a 30 minute 5k for a sub 2 hour half marathon.

Even if I manage the distance in 92 or 93 minutes, I will still have the opportunity to hit my target. A sub 28 minute 5k isn’t out of my reach at all.

My plan is to not only run a sub 2 hour half marathon, but to smash it so that I never have to worry about this goal ever again.

Onwards and upwards.

It will be 15th time lucky In August for me.

I have the sub 2 within my grasp, I just need to keep moving forward and sprinting whilst I’m positive!

This time I won’t be silly enough to create a crazy forfeit for myself if I don’t achieve my goal.

Either way no one would have gained anything from this threat. 

I ran again today, this time covering 11.35 miles in 112 minutes. It was a good run up until I made a fool of myself just short of a mile from home. I was already annoyed as I had another stone in my shoe and decided to wait until I was home to remove it.

Runner’s Tourette’s?

I think I might have Tourette’s syndrome but only when I run. I don’t want to belittle what is a harrowing neurological condition, but today’s episode proves that I’m not well.

I was running in the dark and talking to myself out loud as usual.

When I run I sometimes suffer from cringing mental episodes where I think back to something that’s happened in the past and I blast out words as a way to quiet my mind.

At the minute I like to shout “FLAPS!”, “FREE CRACK!” or my new all time favourite “BUY ONE GET ONE FREE, YOU CUNT!”

Running through difficult mental episodes.

I typically only talk to myself if I’m experiencing problems on the run. Normally it will be “you can do this!” or “only 5 minutes more until this is all over” amongst other things just to try to encourage myself along.

I think a certain amount of self-talk on the run is healthy, but today’s utterance was overheard by a third party.

You see I didn’t notice that I wasn’t alone on this particular stretch of road. It was getting dark and I could barely see 10 foot in front of me.

So when I half-shouted “you can do this, you great big hairy twat!!” in the presence of a man out walking his dog, it caused a shit load of embarrassment.

I couldn’t pretend that I was on the phone. I couldn’t pretend that I was singing.

I just bowed my head in shame and ran onwards as if it didn’t happen.

I couldn’t be bothered explaining to him that my words weren’t targeted in his general direction.

Fortunately he didn’t say anything, but he did hesitate as if he was gonna bring the issue up.

Talk about lucky.

It all leaves some unanswered questions.

Who was the great big hairy twat? Why did he need encouragement?

Most importantly for the man, who was this foul mouthed man in the Newcastle United top and the crew cut that was barking encouragement at foot soldiers who only existed in his mind?

I’ve had many near-misses like this before, but this is the first time that I’ve been certain that another human being has heard my talking to myself when running.

So what’s the answer to all of this?

Do I have to stop talking to myself on the run?

No.

I just have to be more careful. I’m used to running at 5am in the morning when there’s no-one else around.

I could effectively run around in circles for an hour shouting “CUNT!” 150 times a minute and not offend another soul.

Now that I’m running in the evenings, I have to watch my step.

I have to be considerate to other human beings.

The last thing I want do is shout “BUY ONE GET ONE FREE YOU CUNT!” just as I pass an old lady.

That could have more dire consequences.

Since it’s a bank holiday here I’ve been drinking a bit more than usual over the weekend.

This couldn’t have explained the level of fear I awoke with this morning though.

Sunday morning booze terror?

I’ve realised for a few years that rather than being a relaxant, alcohol only seems to intensify anxiety in the long run.

This morning I woke at 3am with a real sense of dread. I’ve experienced this before to a lesser degree, but this time it was intensified by the sweltering heat and the insomnia that was tied to it.

I watched the minutes pass on my clock ever so slowly but the fear made time stall.

Either my basal ganglia was shot and fucked by the half bottle of Whiskey on the previous evening, or by my insistence on playing ‘Private Idaho’ by the B-52s on repeat for about 7 hours.

It was fucking horrible just waiting there with nothing to do but hoping it would pass and I could just relax a little.

Thankfully the sun came up around 4am and the dread disappeared with the darkness.

Sleep disturbed!

I had a nightmare in which Kate Pierson died and was replaced on keyboards by an ostrich that Schneider had trained to screech and press the right keys on the organ in the right order.

I was quite upset at the time, but now that I’ve had time to think on it more bands should try replacing integral members with birds.

Brandon Flowers could be replaced cheaply and effectively with a Congolese Peacock and no-one would bat a fucking eyelid.

Only a dream…..

I woke at 10am feeling like shit.

Whenever I’ve had a hard night I seem to run so much better in the next morning. Everything seems more real, vital and it’s as if I think that my next run could be my last run.

I also try to tire myself out on the next run so that I don’t wake up at 2am with the dread again.

If I put 110% into the run, then I’ll be able to have some rest and not have to worry about living out the weird shit in my head as reality.

I wish I could run 25 miles on a whim, tire myself out and not have to contend with any of the bullshit.

A 13.2 mile run today with 270m of elevation gain.

So I went out with ‘Private Idaho’ ringing in my head and managed to successfully run the course I’d planned on running this time last week.

I attribute the following advice from the Full Potential Twitter account for my success.

I didn’t bother checking my pace at any point in the run, I was more interested in staying in control of my breathing and drinking from my bottle regularly.

I started panicing a little on the hill for a short period as I was worried I was losing control. So I slowed right down and focused 100% of my concentration on my breathing.

It turned out to be one of my best and most enjoyable runs this year and my mindset is so much better compared to this morning.

Now if only I could stop listening to the B-52’s….

It’s the small decisions now that will make all of the difference to how you feel on race day.

Last time around in my Belfast Marathon training I ruined my training by giving up too easily on healthy eating. I always assumed I’d be able to run all of my excess weight off anyway.

I labelled overeating as ‘carb-loading’ and started seeing it as a ritual almost.

But the truth is I never lost the pounds I gained in the lead-up to the next marathon. I’m not running to maintain my weight. I need to stop sabotaging my own progress.

This pretty much summed up my attitude for the last 2 marathons.

I don’t want to feel shitty before a marathon again. The taper is enough of an emotional maelstrom without worrying about if my body is ready.

Over the past two years I’ve felt constrained by a healthy diet. It ‘s as if I can’t be myself without eating a cosmic fuckton of Pot Noodles and cheese. I’m then caught in a cycle of eating food for the sake of it and it’s tremendously difficult habit to break.

True freedom comes with the ability to say no, not from giving into indulgence and being a slave to chocolate.

If you’re a slave to a feeling or a sensation, then you couldn’t be any less free.

Deflated About Being Back To A Normal Lifestyle..

I’m enjoying healthy food now after the gorge-fest that was December. I can only consume so much chocolate and Southern Comfort before I go fishing for sprouts and grapes.

But I still don’t feel like myself. My sleeping is shit and I find nights difficult to deal with. During the day I can draw from my anger as fuel. By night-time that energy disintegrates into boredom, dismay and/or regret.

I get the impression that the same anger that fuels my running has a negative aspect to it that only comes out at night.

In the past I’ve used food as an escape from the discomfort but it’s a placebo effect and I ultimately feel worse for it in the morning.

Blocking It Out Isn’t The Way To Deal With It…

Food, booze, religion and drugs are all stop gaps to fill the large void most of us feel inside. The problem is that you become dependant on them and they bite back and swallow what’s left of you.

In an ideal world I’d be free of all of those influences. But that’s obviously not the case at the minute.

I won’t defeat it either by wishing I was different. I’ve got to start to be different by accepting where I am and moving forward.

Working On It Little By Little.

I keep myself sedated with reality TV and then just wait for morning to arrive and for a new day to begin.

But night time is hard and it’s been my great undoing in the past 2 years. I’ve ate so much unnecessary shit at night that it’s stopped me ever acquiring a healthy weight.

I need to make the correct decisions more often.

I’ve been a drinker since early adulthood and it has caused me quite a lot of pain over the years. Coming from Northern Ireland, there is little else to do around here besides drink Guinness, paint rival flags on sheep and savage badgers with rolling pins.

Whilst I wouldn’t consider myself as an alcoholic, I’ve certainly went through a phase of drinking too much and feeling bad about it.

It took me 8 years to learn that alcohol ultimately made me depressed, fatter and more confused with my own life.

The vicious cycle of alcohol, fear and paranoia

Alcohol is marketed as a relaxant by the media but if you drink enough of it, it has the complete opposite effect.

The morning after paranoia feeds into fear which breeds anxiety which turns to hate which dissolves into paranoia.

Those very thoughts feed into a vicious cycle that makes you want to pick up the bottle again to drown out all of the drunken arguments you’ve gotten into and all the silly things you might have done.

If you spend your waking hours cringing about your drunken antics, then it will only get worse and worse the more you feed into the cycle.

The problem and the answer then become the same, but when you’re depressed you only see it as the answer.

Running has saved me from problem drinking self

Like alcohol, running is addictive but it only seems to improve my life rather than restricting it and messing it up.

I’ve never came back from a night out drinking with the thought ‘Shit I wish I’d drank more last night!’.

I’ve never came back from a day out running with the thought ‘Shit I wish I hadn’t run as far.’

The longer I run the more my body might ache, but the clearer my mind will feel afterwards.

Running isn’t about denial, binge/problem drinking is.

My problems still exist when I’m outside jogging, it’s just I see them in perspective and I can begin picking them off one by one, as opposed to feeling overwhelmed by everything and hiding within the depths of a booze binge.

In short, running is an addiction worth pursuing.

Feeling bad about your drinking?

If you’re feeling hopeless about alcohol and are looking for a way out, try running. It will add a little bit of positivity to your life and you’ll feel better over time.

The key to battling your way out of the hell of problem drinking is to reduce the net negativity in your life. You don’t have to cut booze out altogether, but you can take steps forward by reducing your intake. When you drink less, less bad things happen.

When you find a little bit of peace, you won’t want to drink for the wrong reasons. You naturally drink less and feel better as there’s less and less to hide from.

When you run more you will naturally attract more positivity into your life and you’ll rely less on a chemical to feel good about yourself. You’ll quickly learn that the ‘peace’ that alcohol gives you pales in comparison to the high you receive from running.

Running your way to happiness.

The more I run, the better I can see how trapped I was before. I’d spend days thinking that I was a good guy who was shunned for being shy. That filled me with resentment which I would repress. Then when I drank all of the bile flew out of me and I didn’t understand where it was coming from.

I’d quickly feel sorry about my behaviour and act polite again and repress everything.

Running has given me the confidence and self-awareness to stand up to a situation and to be angry when it is justified, instead of apologising for existing.

It has given me the balls to live my life in the way I want to live it.

Well it’s been a week since but I’ve had time to reflect on the experience and here are 12 things that I’ve learnt about myself as a runner.

1. I have a very poor fuelling strategy – Sometimes I treat my body like it’s a machine. I just pump myself full of Eric the Elephants and Percy Pigs and expect my legs to carry me home in record-time like I’m filling up a Fiesta with Premium Shit. Then I have the audacity to wonder why I’m experiencing traumatic shit attacks. My stomach is not a machine. It will retaliate my expelling anything it does not like right out of my holio.
2. I am resilient as a runner – Run-walking for 8 hours without giving up, shows that I am tougher than I originally thought. I think that the more you keep battling the more patience and resilience you’re graced with.
3. I’ve learned that I no longer care what other people think – I broke down in tears in front of a picnicking family, my face was encrusted with gels for around fucking 15 miles and I had to ask the Minister of Justice for Northern Ireland if it was OK to use a Country Park as a public toilet. Who gives a fuck if I run like a woman?
4. I have learnt that I have a lot in common with other runners – Especially ultra runners. The guys I met out in the field had the same doubts and same grievances but they ultimately pulled through! It’s easy to retreat into your own mind and internalise your doubts. You start to feel alone and the running field seems hostile. This isn’t the reality of the situation and the ultra marathon taught me that everyone out there is essentially the same. It’s too easy to see the running pack as one big group that you don’t belong to. This is not the case.
5. I can continue on and complete a race even when I think my race is over – I wanted to quit the race after I got lost, but quickly came to the conclusion that there’s no peace in surrender. Your race doesn’t stop if you just quit for a break. You can and will complete it if you keep putting one foot in front of the other. It might take 2 hours or 8 hours but you will get there.
6. I can complete a race that I haven’t trained properly for – It may have hurt like hell, but I got through it. As with any race distance you have to respect the challenge ahead and train appropriately to make the most out of it. But you are capable of more than you think, if you just try. Sometimes have you to try for the self-belief to arrive. It won’t come on its own.
7. Finishing last isn’t as bad as I thought it would be – I’m someone who experiences a lot of anxiety dreams where I flunk all of my old school exams and end up being sold by the Queen of England to Thailand as a cock-eyed ladyboy. Finishing last in a race was the worst thing that I thought could happen to me as a runner. Halfway through the 50k I thought a DNF would be better than an 8 hour finish because at least then I could make excuses for myself ‘yeah I’m capable of a sub 5 finish it’s just that I accidentally sprayed Deep Heat onto my balls on race morning!’. Finishing at all was 1,000,000 times better than not finishing.
8. The mileage limits I’ve been placing upon myself are arbitrary – Before entering the 50k I was really struggling with hitting 15-16 mile long runs. The week after I entered it, I ran my first ever 20 miler in training and then completed the race itself the week after. By smashing through the barriers in the 50k I’m no longer willing to place mental limits on how far can run.
9. I’ve realised that I am an ultra runner – OK, I might be a really new ultra runner who hasn’t a clue what he’s doing, but that doesn’t stop being a finisher in an ultra marathon. When I first started running I didn’t feel like a runner after completing my first race. This belief didn’t help me any. I ran less. I tried less. I cared less.  Then it dawned on me that sometimes you have to at least pretend that you are a runner to actually become one. Fake it until you make it and all of that hippy bullshit.
10. I capitulate far too easily – And make bad decisions off the back of fear of collapse. My intake of 6 isotonic gels in Bangor and the subsequent toileting afterwards is a good example of me freaking out a little too quickly. Sometimes it pays to relax, breathe a little and carry on with your race. When you’re out on your own and scared out of your mind, it’s harder to do. But your ability to handle crises comes with experience.
11. I’m too unwilling to buy new footwear – OK I’ll admit that I was wrong and that it’s sensible to change your shoes every 500 miles. By the time I’d finished the 50k the soles on my shoes had one key similarity to a pharmacy in the Vatican. No rubber anywhere.
12. Sometimes it’s better to run with music – As you may well know, I don’t run with tunes. I’m thinking twice about this now after Angry Jogger FM played the single “This Race Is Fucking Shit And I’m Never Running Again” on repeat for 8 fucking hours. Music can act as a great distraction from your own bullshit thoughts and help you establish a rhythm.

For the past 4 months I’ve been demoralised about my inability to control my violent urges for food at night. I’ll track everything I eat up until around 8pm and then my stomach will begin to growl.

The uneasiness within will grow to such a level that I’ll be forced out of boredom or lack of self control to eat anything. Once I eat one thing, my appetite will gain momentum. The “What the fuck, I might as make this a feast now as I’ve ruined my eating plan” rises to the fore.

It’s those extra calories at night that are hampering my running. It’s not as if my calorie intake is vastly surpassing the energy I burn. In fact I’ve stayed at 211lbs now for about 3 months so I think I’m just about breaking even.

I need to catch those thoughts before they become urges. I mean, it’s OK to eat something at night. It’s just the gung-ho attitude that emerges after I eat one item that’s the issue.

A bad day doesn’t become a bad day until I throw in the towel and give in to the old routine.

My “fuck it” attitude is self defeating.

I rationalise it to myself by thinking “Well I can always run it off tomorrow!”. That may be true, but I’m not running solely to maintain my weight. I want to get faster and go further. I hate the feeling that I’m making reparations for the bad choices I made the night before. I should be making physical gains with each run, not just mental gains.

The simple fact is that I don’t need the extra calories. I’m already eating well over 3,000 a day. That’s more than enough to keep my body going even if I’m running 35 miles a week and walking 30.

It’s a battle that I’m still fighting. I haven’t lost to it yet as I’ve maintained the same weight since July and I’ve learnt more about what triggers the overeating at times. There won’t be a eureka moment where all my problems are solved. I need to focus on making better decisions when the challenge arrives.

I don’t have to make the right decision 100% of the time. 51% of the time would be a fucking start!

13.6 Mile Long Slow Run

An uneventful but pleasant run. I set out with the intention of running further than the 13.5 miles I ran last week and I achieved it even if it was only by a tenth of a mile.

I’m glad to report that my nipples are no longer an issue ever since I’ve applied the Bodyglide and the Vaseline on top! Such a fucking relief. There will be no weeping or screaming in the shower tomorrow.

I had only one angry moment today. It was when a girl disembarked a bus and stopped on the middle of a narrow footpath blocking my way.

She was wearing earphones so couldn’t hear my breathing or passive aggressive stomping. In the end I just ran on the inside of the pavement and nearly ended up in a hedge just to avoid a catastrophic collision.

Oh but the tunes sound so good in ma head, man!!

I wanted to fucking scream “WAKE UP!!” at her but she was clearly dead to the world.

So instead I just ran 0.1 miles pretty quickly and let out a massive “FUCCKKKKKKKKK!!!” when there was no-one else around.

It was the best moment of the day. Cathartic.

With less than a month to go until the Paris Marathon, today I was confronted by the sheer fucking panic that sets in when a 26.2 mile race is just around the corner and you’re unsure if  you’re ready or not.

26.2 fucking miles. What was I thinking?

When you’re new to marathon training it’s normal to be plagued with doubts. I still struggle with thoughts like these.

• How the fuck can I possibly keep going for 26.2 miles? I’ve only ran 16/18/20 miles in training!
• What if I hit the wall?
• What if I don’t manage another 18 mile run before the marathon?
• What if I get injured?

Before my first full marathon, I was in the dark with regards to how my body would cope with the distance.

I ran my first half in training for the 26.2 miles and I just remember being paralysed by the realisation that I had to do 2 laps of the half marathon course to complete the distance.

If I was exhausted after only 13.1 miles, how could I possibly run that distance when I had nothing left to give after the half?

Dropping the pace and focusing on distance.

For my first two marathons I quickly realised that I had not been running far enough.

I made the decision to drastically drop my pace on all of my jogs and run at a 11 minute/mile instead of my preferred 10 minute/mile pace.

It wasn’t ideal but I had to find a way to run further and increase my confidence.

My goal was to finish after all. Pace didn’t matter.

New approach to training this time around

For the Paris Marathon I’ve put distance training before everything else. From the start of January I set out to run as far as I could on every single run.

I made next to no progress with pace during the first month, but my stamina improved drastically over that time.

By focusing on the distance and getting comfortable with it, I’ve built a stable base for myself that has allowed me to experiment with speed work.

I’m going into this marathon knowing that I’m not slowing down.

Far from it, I’m actually speeding up! I’m on the attack as opposed to the back foot for once!

And it’s all thanks to those early 8 mile short runs. Without them I’d still be struggling to break an average 10 minute mile over longer distances.

This morning at 5:30am I ran 11.2 miles as a short run.

And the best thing is that I ran these 11 miles, 10 minutes faster than the my last 11 mile run in January 2013.

For a while in the winter I thought I was never gonna improve. I thought I was doomed to plodding.

It just goes to show what you can do if you’re determined and want to improve.

Never give up hope.