Around this time last year, I was just catching up on YouTube and it just so happened that two YouTubers I was subscribed to had just run the London Marathon. If you’ve seen any marathon-related videos or heard marathon stories, then you’d know that it involves a whole lot of emotions but incredibly inspiring.
This time last year, I hadn’t been running as much as I used to but something about watching the videos inspired me so so much that I started considering to take part. Started to look up how to enter and found out that the public ballot entry system was opening in a week-ish. So I thought, okay, a marathon’s no joke so I should sleep on it rather than making an impulse decision. Talked to someone to make sure I wasn’t out of my mind, so after a few sleeps and a whole lot of encouragement, I decided to give it a shot. (Although.. Not gonna lie, I was half-hoping I wouldn’t get it because I didn’t think I could do it)
Fast forward to October 2016, this came in the mail… 
I couldn’t believe I actually got in (I recently just found out that there were over 250,000 applicants and I was one of the lucky 20% (correct me if I’m wrong!) that got a place). Never really wanted many to know to begin with because as much as I wanted to do it, I was still filled with so much self-doubt so I didn’t break the news to anyone but one. But that one reaction gave me more than enough encouragement that I immediately secured my place just so I wouldn’t chicken out.
With very little mileage under my belt in the last couple of months, I thought I’d better get my legs moving to prepare myself for Mark Yelling’s 16-week training plan for first-time marathon runners. Since it would be my very first marathon, and not having run any further than 10k, I decided to have a go at a half marathon in March. So I signed up for the Adidas Silverstone Half Marathon too.
I think throughout the whole training period, it was managing my time between uni and running that I struggled with the most. I find myself getting extremely lazy later in the day so most of my runs were in the morning. But it was incredibly hard to get up early in the cold mornings of winter.
Came January, I had my exams. And I know it seems too silly as an excuse, but being in the final year of my degree, at times that I struggle with time management, it’s my uni work that I knew I must prioritise. My three-day-a-week training sessions sometimes turned to two or even one, at times I felt particularly stressed, my runs became my stress relief as much as four times a week. And slowly, the training plan no longer became a plan but rather just an indicator as to where I should be.
Again, life gets in the way, things don’t go to plan, and my training wasn’t going as well as I hoped it would. By March, I had only ran as much as 7k. I was just a week away from my first half marathon at Silverstone, and I didn’t know what to expect. It would’ve been my longest run, ever. I felt so overwhelmed and so underprepared. I didn’t know any pre-run rituals, so I skimmed through many pre-run advice etc and tried to follow it. It’s a dry run for the actual big day (aka the marathon), they said.
Half-marathon day, I grabbed some breakfast before heading off to the coach meet-up point. It was a 2-hour journey and I was nervous as ever. At this point, still, although some knew I was running a half marathon, there weren’t many that knew of my plans to run a full marathon. And I guess it was the support and encouragement I would’ve gotten had they known earlier that could have helped me through my whole journey, especially in the anxiety (and its sorts) department. But I still felt incapable to some degree, and I feared that people would be surprised to know that I will be running a marathon. I feared that their disbelief would turn to discouragement, as if I didn’t have enough self-doubt that’s holding me back already.
We were greeted with rain, which stayed until we flagged off. All in all, it was just generally an awful day of running for me (I may just be too hard on myself for this one!). I think my anxiety just consumed me, and the rain only made it worse. It was cold and I was so sure that the rain wouldn’t clear up so I kept my sweatshirt on – big mistake. I thought, even if the rain stopped, the sun wouldn’t be out anyway. Huge mistake.
The rain cleared up, the sun was out, and I was soon in major discomfort. As early as the third mile. With my shoes and socks soaked from the rain, it wasn’t long before I felt blisters forming and I already had two to begin with. It was my first proper long run and I went a bit too easy on myself. I’d take the longest walk break as soon as I felt pain, feel slightly guilty so I pick up my pace and jog a little, feel the slightest exhaustion so I’d walk again, and the cycle goes on.
It became progressively harder, I was hungry and slightly annoyed that it’s taking me so long to finish, but always listen to your body, I remember reading so many times, so I took my time, haha. My feet were aching like crazy, and I thought that was already punishment enough so I shouldn’t be any harder on myself. Not gonna lie, it was no help that the course was awfully quiet and that I could see more and more people making their way out of the venue. I was so close to just give up but I kept telling myself, I’ve gotten this far, I didn’t get this far only to get this far.
With some encouragement from fellow runners who probably could tell I was on the verge of giving up from a mile away, I managed to push myself and eventually crossed the finish line, clocking in at 2:55:09. Scored me one of these too!
Makes it special because it was my first everything – first half marathon (also my longest run.. ever!), first running medal, etc. It was arguably my biggest achievement to date and I was buzzzzzin – also then realised how my average pace wasn’t that bad considering how much walk breaks I took so I stopped beating myself up over it.
The next couple of weeks were harder, I was meant to increase mileage and go for runs longer than my half but it was the same month my dissertation was due. My runs were my escape but I couldn’t take too much time out without feeling guilty of leaving my work behind. Between my half and full marathon, I hadn’t gone any further than my half and by the time I had more time to spare, it was time to decrease mileage. So really, my training didn’t go as well as it should’ve been. It’s definitely one of the things I would change if I could turn back time or if I were to run another marathon.
I received my final instructions pack and it suddenly hit me. I will be running a marathon, and I don’t feel prepared at all. I was nervous, but I wasn’t just going to put whatever work I had put in the last couple of months to waste. Come race week, I set out my packing list – things to pack for London, things to pack for race day, making sure I had everything I need (my race day outfit, my registration form to pick up my kit, my gels, my armband, everything..).
En route to London, I was in the train with so many other runners, many studying the whole 26.2-mile course. Headed to Excel the same day to pick up my race kit and sat through a talk on getting through race day. Pace yourself well, I remember her say. A realistic target for yourself would be double your half marathon time plus an extra 10-15 minutes, she continues. So I worked out that it would be around 6:05 for me, based on my half marathon time. There was an inkling that I could finish under 6 hours, but I will not beat myself up if I didn’t, I promised myself. After all, it would be my very first full marathon, and completing it would be enough achievement anyway.
Night before the race, I could barely sleep as nerves consumed every inch of me. I don’t think I slept properly until 2am.
Race day. I got up 3 hours later at 5. Got ready an hour after and headed off for breakfast – coffee (essentially..) and porridge, as I’ve gathered to be the best breakfast option based on many pieces of advice from experienced runners. Quick chat with my family back home to ease the pre-race jitters and then headed off to the start line all the way in Blackheath.
I think I had roughly about an hour and a half before flag off and seeing the crowd only made me feel more anxious! Everyone seemed to have it together, knew what to do, and then there I was thinking, how soon do I need to start stretching? How much do I have to hydrate before flag off? Should I use a sachet of my gel before?
So many thoughts running through my head, and I was so overwhelmed by emotions that I was constantly on the brink of crying. Pretty sure I cried at least twice before flag off! Haha. Twenty minutes before 10, I started heading off to the pen, along with many other runners and tried to compose myself (but nah.. I started crying again, lol). We were allocated in pens based on our estimated finish time and I was at the very back so I didn’t officially start until quarter past.
But when I officially did, boy, was the crowd loud. Pace yourself, pace yourself, pace yourself, I repeated to myself. Realised that I was somehow caught in the sub-5:00 group (and clearly, is way faster than my estimated finish time of 6:05, although I was targeting for somewhere between 5:30-5:45 that day), so I slowed down a bit. In comparison to my half, I actually managed to keep running for the whole first half of the course. At one point I was 15 minutes ahead of where I should be.
What I read was true, the crowd really did play a big part. Many spectators holding out their hands for high fives, children as excited as they can be when you reach out for them – it was amazing to say the least. It was their smiles, and their cheers that somehow kept me going. It was the mass of people that were with me that kept me running, I didn’t even realise how far I’d gone! Crossed the 5k mark, then slowly 10k, and then 15k, and before I knew it, I was approaching the 20k mark.
The halfway point was one of the biggest highlights of the day. There couldn’t have been a better location for the halfway point other than Tower Bridge. I ran, taking in the ever so beautiful scenery, taking in the atmosphere, of the ever so loud spectators. And then I officially reached the halfway point, clocking in at 2:37:07. I was so incredibly happy, that’s just 2 minutes shy of running a whole 20 minutes quicker than I had last month!
And then I started feeling all sorts of pain everywhere. My shins started hurting, my ankles were feeling a bit wonky, my back, my neck, everything. And coincidentally, it was as if my body and the songs in queue were in sync. Crashing, hit a wall.. Was this ‘the wall’ everyone was talking about? With everything in my body starting to ache like crazy, I was sure that I had officially… reached ‘the wall’. We had reached the quieter part of the course, everyone was more scattered so it was easier for me to just.. stop. I slowed down so so much, occasionally trying to run again but only found myself in greater pain the more I tried.
Again, I was on the brink of a breakdown. Again and again. I was always on the verge of just crying because it became so difficult. Thinking, what in the world was I thinking when I signed up for this? Thinking, Have I underestimated the demands of a marathon? No, it’s not enough to just have the physical strength, or to be fit. There’s a lot of emotional and mental strength that goes in this too. Because even in the presence of so many spectators and fellow runners, it was my thoughts that were the loudest. And at that time? I just wanted to give up. So many times I passed by the First Aid tents, I considered stopping. But I thought, no, you’re stronger than this. You have to keep going. You can finish this, all the work put in the past few months will not go to waste. You will cross the finish line, you will wear that finishers medal.
So I picked myself up, pushed myself and brisk-walked my way through the next 15k. I slowly lost what was at one point my 15-minute lead, but I slowly didn’t care anymore because I just really wanted to finish. Every step forward is a step closer to the finish, I repeated. It was that day that I realised, who would’ve thought that a kilometre was actually THIS far? As I kept going, the mile markers slowly showed, 20… 21… 22… 23… 24… At 25, I thought, alright, just 1.2 miles to go. My very last 1.2, I’ve completed 25, what’s another 1.2?
It felt like the longest ever, but I gave it my all. I ran and passed so many people, seeing markers every 200m indicating how much closer I was to the finish line. Never will I underestimate how ‘short‘ 200m is. My legs were still aching, but this is it. The finish. The crowd got louder (so loud I couldn’t hear my friends cheering for me!), and I started to quicken my pace. I felt a thousand and one feelings, and I officially crossed the finish line at 5:42:12. Within my target time range, and half an hour quicker than my estimated finish time.
Considering my training didn’t go the way it should have gone and not having run any further than a half marathon, my first full marathon was more than I could ever ask for. In spite of my struggles through the course, the day couldn’t have turned out any more perfect. Perfect weather for running, perfect atmosphere, perfect location. More often than not, your firsts are always special and I’m glad I chose London as my first full marathon. It was an incredibly beautiful day, and while my post-marathon sore is slowly going away, it will take a while for me to come down from cloud nine and get over this achievement.
I think I’m gonna wear my medal for the rest of the week now. And I know that this is just a start to many more. I’ll be back one day, London. Thank you for such an incredible experience.
silahk 