What I Learnt From Running a Marathon
It has
been just over 12 weeks since my first marathon, and this is, quite simply, what I have
learnt:
1. I
can run a marathon.
It is
now starting to dawn on me that my legs have actually covered 26.2 miles. That’s halfway to Leeds from Manchester. That’s a 10k four times over. I used to think it was normal to run 13.1
miles on an evening after a full day at work, as part of a “training plan”. I heard somewhere that running a marathon is
the new mid-life crisis. No comment.
2. I
want to run another marathon.
“Wanting”
and “doing” are two separate things, and everyone warned me I would feel this
way after the marathon. I chose not to
believe them, but admittedly, they were right.
Running a marathon gives you a sense of purpose, a desire to push your
body to the limit, and a sense of camaraderie with all fellow runners. It gives you that “elite” status. In my case, if I went and ran another
marathon, it would also mean my family would evict me.
3. It
hurts.
It
really, REALLY hurts. Everyone talks
about how much it hurts in the final stages of the marathon. This is true.
At one point, it felt like someone had stuck a red hot poker into my
thigh. But no one warned me of the pain
leading up the marathon, of the injuries I encountered during not only the
first attempt last year, but the second attempt this year. And then there’s the sports massages. If someone inflicted that level of pain
ANYWHERE but in a health professional’s therapy room, you could probably sue
them. Then there is the toenail issue. Or lack of them. “How many toenails did you lose after the
marathon?” Immediately after the marathon I lost two. But another three fell off this week.
4. It’s
expensive.
My
marathon training definitely cost me somewhere in the region of £500. I changed my running trainers twice as I wore
them out, went through numerous pairs of running socks, then there’s the sports
bras and compression socks, and the foam rollers x2. The optional extras which I used in abundance
were seeing a physio every other week in the 10 weeks prior to the race,
drinking protein shakes daily, using kinesiology tape for every long run and
race, and eating a super healthy diet (I lost a stone in weight). Eating really healthy grub all the time is
not cheap. Then of course you have the race entry fee, plus any other races you
plan to do as part of the training.
5. Not
everyone can run a marathon, no matter how much they want to.
I’m close to one of these people. Whenever I got to 17 miles in training runs, my body started to fall to
pieces. I don’t think many people are
built for marathon running. I hear of so
many people putting their bodies through extreme training regimes and they end
up looking haggard all the time. Is that
a good thing?
6. You
gain a different perspective on body image.
After
my weight loss and finishing the marathon, I was at my peak of fitness, lean
and trim. So, when I visited a fashion
retailer to buy a lovely new dress to show off my size 10 figure – and it didn’t
fit – I berated my body for not being good enough. But as I walked out the shop, I realised how
stupid I had been. How could I chastise
my body after it had just carried me through 26.2 miles? The fault lies with the retailer and the
fitting of the clothes, not my body thank you very much. I love my body now, for everything it can do.
7. You
make lots of new friends… and lose old ones.
Everyone
training for a marathon wants to share their stories of pain with others and I
came across a great many lovely people during my training at races and
online. Although I did not lose any
friends, I am sure I bored them silly with my constant jibber jabber about
training schedules, meal plans…
8. The
mental preparation is just as important as the physical preparation.
I was already
injured on the start line of the marathon.
I questioned up until mile 9 whether or not I was going to complete the race,
and it was not until mile 17 that I finally relaxed because I knew I would get
to the finish line. The truth is, I did not come across anyone who did not have
some sort of niggle before starting the marathon. You have to push those doubts about your body
out of your mind and focus on digging deep and getting through. Thinking of 26.2 miles at the start line of
the race makes your journey seem nigh on impossible.
9. It
is inspiring
The
charity runners and the spectators are phenomenal. As you are running along the route you see
other runners with photos of their loved ones, and the sight leaves you in awe.
There’s parents running for their lost children, sons and daughters running for
mums and dads, and friends running for friends. Then there are the spectators,
complete strangers, who come out to support you with sweets and cheers, and
wacky posters that say “touch here for power”.
It’s human nature at its best.
10. You
become inspiring
You don’t
realise this, until a few months after the event, and I hope even years
after. I never grew up thinking I would
run a marathon. Who would do such a
thing? Running marathons was for other
people. Until I saw one two years
ago. And I saw people just like you and
me, running 26.2 miles. It wasn’t a “Oh,
I can do that,” moment. It was a, “Those
people are frickin’ amazing, I’m completely blown away! What an amazing thing
to do!” And that’s how I started my marathon journey – from being inspired by
others. I wanted my kids to see that inspiration. And I know I inspired at
least one friend who started learning to run two weeks ago. Maybe those watching my journey will be
inspired to do the same next year. Who
knows? Watch this space. It's someone else's turn next year. You, dear reader, perhaps?
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