Chip time: 3:08:27
“Avoid and reduce stress in the week leading up to your race.” – textbook marathon advice 📚
Brighton 🏖 was hillier, windier, and a few degrees cooler than Milan, but I still got what I came for: a tan (borderline sunburn), a new PB, fleeting moments of mushin no shin (無心の心) and that coveted post-marathon afterglow. ✨
Running Brighton wasn’t on the cards until two days ago.
20mins before takeoff, I was denied boarding to my Milan flight at Gatwick for boring (and Brexit-induced) passport reasons. My Airbnb host had also cancelled on me the same morning, which turned out to be a blessing and a refund in disguise. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be… 🇮🇹
Decided I wouldn’t leave Gatwick Airport until I had an alternative race lined up, and after a couple of hours, a friend (guardian angel 🕊) had helped me wangle a last-minute spot at Brighton. Phew.
If you’ve never experienced the rush of a marathon, then it would be entirely rational to ask “Why do so many people voluntarily put themselves through 26 miles of suffering?” or even “What’s the point?”
For those who have experienced it, you’ll know it’s a rush that’s hard to put into words.
If you’ve ever heard a tiny little voice in your head suggesting you sign up for a marathon, or that you try your first half, I would thoroughly endorse listening to it.
The reward on the other side of the process is better than any medal or temporary endorphin high.
Marathon training is an exercise in building self-trust: the trust that you can do hard things, even on the days you don’t feel like it; the trust that you’re capable of things you previously thought were beyond your reach; and the trust in yourself that, when you say you’re going to do something, you get it done. I’m glad I spent a few months relearning all of those things.
How loud is the voice in your head wondering what it’s like to run a marathon? I’m not an expert, but I am a devout running evangelist, so get in touch if you’re Marathon-curious. Or don’t, just book a race, and thank me later.