In 2016 I ran my second marathon and set my sights on doing it in three hours – no mean feat.
While you can finish a half marathon without too much training, when it comes to a marathon, there's no getting away from serious training. And if you want to do it in three hours you need serious serious training. Most running plans recommend anywhere from 3 to 5 runs a week. Only 5% of finishers get under three hours.
Starting from a good running base, I trained hard for six months – on the beach before work, sprints at lunch, 30km+ runs after work till 9pm winding around the most convoluted route home to make up the distance. Over the Harbour Bridge, around Kirribilli, back over the bridge, City2Surf route, along the beaches to Bronte and back.
I chose Gold Coast as it's the flattest course in Australia and flew up the day before. To avoid hitting the wall and running out of energy, I stuffed so many carbs down my throat I felt sick most of the day. Big bowls of pasta, bananas, Powerades and a whole loaf of white bread with jam.
It's around 7am when we set off and I'm feeling good for the first few kms, sticking to my pace of 4.15m/km.
One hour in and I'm still going well, trying to pay attention to how I'm feeling in the moment and not think about the later part of the race. If I think too much about what time I might finish in, I start feeling tense and getting tired.
At 4.15m/km, I'm running at 80% of the fastest I can run if I'm only doing 1km. This is constantly being reasonably out of breath. If my breathing becomes too easy, I know I've dropped behind the pace without even looking at my watch.
At about 20kms, just under the halfway mark, things start to go wrong. A pain I've had before that begins in my hip and goes down my leg to the outside of my knee flares up.
I try my old trick of not entertaining negative thoughts. I find in races where I do succumb to negative thinking about injuries, things always fall apart. After a few minutes of this, I look at my watch and see I've done the last kilometre in 4m30. That would be 15 seconds I'd need to make up somewhere. I try jumping back up to a faster pace but my right side isn't having it.
The tightness and discomfort are turning into undeniable pain.
I push on like this for two more kilometres with the leg seizing up more and more – a 4m35 km followed by a 4m45. At this point, I see my friend who has come out to support me. It's all I can do to acknowledge her and indicate that I'm not doing well. Around the next corner, out of sight of my friend, I admit to myself I can't go on like this.
The dream of a three-hour marathon is crumbling. At this point, I'm already a few minutes behind schedule, but more importantly, I can barely keep moving.
I'd built the time up to such an extent that the thought of running a slow marathon, even slower than my previous one, seems pointless. These were the thoughts going through my head as I slow up and start hobbling down the side of the road.
People in the crowd read the name on my bib and call out support, which is encouraging, but my leg feels terrible. I stop completely and stretch. Three or four different stretches don't seem to help and I walk on. Runners flood past me. The 3h05 pacer, then a few minutes later the 3h10. All the other runners look fine – why is this happening to me? I trained so much.
My main problem at this point, I realised in retrospect, is that I'm running the wrong storyline. The story I'm so attached to is running a three-hour marathon.
Judged against that storyline, I'm failing. I'm walking the course with no chance of getting near my target. I'm seriously considering giving up – why go on if I can't get my goal? I'm not even going to beat my previous time.
But then I remember how many people have sponsored me. I'm running not just for personal glory, I'm raising money for charity.
This detail completely changes my perspective. I'm now no longer running/hobbling for myself, but for the people who believed in me and the cause I picked. Gone are all thoughts of quitting – now it's a question of getting across the line.
I have a new mountain to climb! Not the one I set out for, but a challenging summit nonetheless. Can I finish the second half of this marathon injured?
I find my leg is feeling well enough to jog slowly. The 3h15 and 3h20 pacers pass me now. I'm jogging at around 6m/km, almost two minutes slower than my original pace. I remember I have some paracetamol and take a couple.
I carry on like this for about an hour, 10kms. I'm still running in a very jagged way, all lopsided but not in pain. The 3h30 pacer passes me and I realise that even after all the walking and slow jogging I've only just fallen behind my previous time.
There's 10km to go and I decide to take a stab at getting a half-decent time. I try and up the pace and get to about 5m30/km. I'm not overtaking anyone but there are no longer people overtaking me, which gives me a boost. The 3h35 pacer goes past but I keep on. The 3h40 group never caught me. I crossed the line in 3h38m, only seven minutes behind my previous time. I also raised over $1000.
The turning point was where I changed the script. When I was running to finish and overcome my injury, and doing it for the greater goal of raising money, the race had meaning again.
If we tell ourselves the right stories, we can make the most of any situations.