Post 220 - Marathon improvements

What follows below outlines my marathon history, and how I went from running 2:32:34 at the London marathon in 2023 to running 2:25:36 one year later at the London marathon in 2024, at age 39. This was a decent improvement, and I thought it worth documenting what went into it. If nothing else it’ll be interesting to look back and read it in years to come…

The below is split into sections: a short section on London 2023, a short section on London 2024, a slightly longer section on London 2024, and then a very long section outlining what I changed between 2023 and 2024. 

I’m certainly no expert in marathon running, and there will be people with much more experience than me, who have ran many more marathons than me. None of the below is intended to be patronising or anything like that, it’s just an account of what seemed to work really well for me, and why I think it worked. 

Here is what I wrote within a few hours of finishing the London marathon in 2023 in a time of 2 hours and 32 minutes:

Absolutely incredible day. What a race. The crowds, all the way round, were superb - my ears are still ringing.

The first half was wet and cold but I was running really well, I really enjoyed the first 14-15 miles. Cutty Sark and Tower Bridge were crazy with crowds. Rock star stuff. Through halfway in under 1:14, too fast but I felt great.

Got into Canary Wharf and started needing the toilet, so I had a slow mile trying to hold it in, then a rapid sit-down pit-stop at the port-a-loo at 17.5 miles (just in time...).

Got going again and back up to speed but then leaving Canary Wharf and heading for home along the Embankment was humbling - there was a headwind and my speed dropped, my energy dropped and I really had to fight in the last 5 miles while the strong runners came through.

The wet and cold probably took a little bit out of my muscles and I probably (i.e. definitely) ran too quick in the first 15-16 miles. Sub-2:30 disappeared, but I’ll take 2:32. Not ideal weather for it, and I’m not experienced in standalone marathons, experience would help, but that was the best I had and it was an awesome day.

And it was a 68-minute PB - my previous standalone marathon PB was 3:40 in Belfast in 2003 (1:33/2:07, I do seem to like a positive marathon split...). Can’t believe it has taken me 20 years to go back and do another marathon (I don’t count Ironman marathons!).

Sore now! Well done to everyone who ran. It’s a hell of an event and this marathon journey has been a hell of a journey. Time for some burgers and pizza and desserts... (apologies I didn’t make the pub afterwards, I was freezing and thought it best to head back and get cleaned up and get warm).

Thanks for the messages of support, the advice, the cheers on course, and to friends in London for putting up with me all weekend. Really appreciate it!

Here is what I wrote immediately after finishing the London marathon in 2024 in a time of 2 hours and 25 minutes:

I will write more on this later.

For now: What a day. Glad to get that time out of myself. It was good to be strong all the way to the end. The foot held, a few stabs of pain but it was OK.

GPS went wild in Canary Wharf.

The London marathon is absolutely incredible.

Here is what I wrote later that evening:

I ran 2:32 last year for a first proper crack at a marathon. It was a case of: “Not bad, but can do better…” Then I made a list of about 20 things I could improve on and do better. I have this list in a drawer somewhere and I might write it up in detail sometime…

So it was mission sub-2:30 this year. The list worked because training was really unbelievably good for over 3 months. Of course it was tough, but I was motivated and I felt strong, and kept getting stronger at the longer distances as time passed. Mission sub-2:30 became “mission how far under 2:30 can I go…?”

I was ready 3 weeks before London, when my taper started. But then so many niggles and problems surfaced in those last 3 weeks. So much time at physios and doctors. My foot got sore a week out. I did everything I could for it but it wasn’t going to be perfect. I could only hope it would be good enough on the big day.

A trip to Primark the day before the race to buy a big warm £5 hoodie and £2 baseball cap and £2 pair of gloves was a smart move because of the cold NE wind. I had a thumping headache the day before the race (maybe caused by the travel, maybe the change in air, maybe something else, who knows?) and taking paracetamol for it, even though I didn’t want to, was also a smart move.

Race day came. I knew the drill from last year. The pre-race necessities passed smoothly. I took off the hoodie about 10 seconds before starting to run, so I didn’t start freezing cold. The conservative (or smart) plan would have been to do 13 miles at 5:40/m and build from there if I was feeling good. But 5:30/m wasn’t unrealistic, and marathon-paced efforts in training were comfortably faster than 5:40/m. So I settled nicely in at 5:30/m with Colin, Darrell and Myles. A Sunday social. For the first part anyway…

I gave the cap to a wee girl at mile 5, then ditched the gloves at mile 7. The miles passed, the race stabilised, the crowds were awesome. Cutty Sark was incredible. Rock star stuff. 5:30-5:35 was feeling good.

A flash of pain in my foot at mile 10 gave me cause for concern, but it was just a flash and it passed. Over Tower Bridge we went. What crowds! Halfway in 1:13. The race started to change just after halfway. People started to fade a bit. I kept going. The elite ladies flew past in the opposite direction, it was exciting to see.

Into Canary Wharf. My stomach was feeling fine (I had put effort into trying to ensure that it would be), and hopefully there’d be no port-a-loos today. The tight turns in Canary Wharf were uncomfortable for my foot but I took the widest lines possible around the corners. My foot was holding. If it was going to go, surely it would have gone by now…?

I was moving well and passing people. Definitely still feeling good. Canary Wharf seemed to take a long time, but I made it out of the skyscrapers still feeling good. The gels and water were working well (more grams of carbs and a bit less water this year).

10km left now. A blister under my big toe had been developing. At mile 20 it suddenly got very painful. The skin might have come off the top or it might have burst or something. It was very sore. I thought it could be a long and painful 10km. But within a couple of minutes it had somehow normalised and it was OK. I was working hard now but I was still returning good pace.

I knew at this stage I was going to break 2:30 unless it went very wrong, and I didn’t feel it was going to go very wrong, but you never know. The question was: by how much would I break 2:30? I really wanted to be strong all the way in.

I was still moving well and passing people. I was aware too, and noticing my surroundings, unlike last year: “There’s the Shard. The London Eye. There’s Big Ben up ahead. Ah yes here’s the big long dark underpass that I’ve no recollection of running through last year…”

No one had passed me for miles and miles, literally since about mile 14, then Darrell flew past in a green and white blur. I was going well but he was running like he was doing a stand-alone 5k. Rapid. Incredible. I told myself, “Refocus on yourself! You’re still going well. Darrell’s race is Darrell’s race…”

The Embankment was long and wide and Big Ben seemed a long way up ahead but finally I was underneath the famous old clock and turned right. There’s still a bit to go at this point, more than you want! I was still strong but working at maximum capacity.

The mind was good and it was saying, “You might never be in this position again, so you damn well make sure you get everything you can out of this. Don’t cruise in.” I gave the crowd a few fist pumps because why the hell not, I needed a boost, they went crazy and I tried to lift the pace higher.

Taking the last two right-handers onto the Mall as tight as I could, I didn’t give a policeman enough room and knocked into his back with my arm. I tried to shout sorry but it was probably just a grunt. I turned onto the Mall and up ahead the clock said 2:25 and I knew it was still going to say 2:25 when I crossed the line. And that was it. Job done. Well and truly done.

I was strangely less emotional at the finish than last year. I was relieved at getting it done and having something to show for all the miles and months of effort. It had been a really solid 26.2 miles and everything I could have hoped for.

It is genuinely an incredible event and my two London Marathons from this year and last year are two major life highlights. Such a race. Such crowds. Such a route. Such landmarks. So many good vibes and nice messages and so much support and camaraderie. I don’t know if I’ll ever run another marathon, and if I don’t then this would certainly be leaving it on a high.

Thanks to everyone for the help, advice, support, messages, encouragement etc.

Run London!

The below is what I wrote in the weeks/months that followed London 2024:

I said I had a list of “20 things I could improve on and do better” and I also said “I might write it up in detail sometime…” Well, here it is, written up in detail… 

These things all worked really well for me, and they all added up to me taking 7 minutes off my PB, going from 2:32 in 2023 to 2:25 in 2024. I thought it was worth documenting these things, and it’s interesting to reflect back and to think about what I might change or do differently if I was to ever do another marathon… 

But it’s diminishing returns – there was a lot to improve on between 2023 and 2024, there was no question that I would try again because I knew there was so much scope to improve, and 7 minutes was a big PB. 

There would be a lot less scope to improve again, and I certainly wouldn’t be taking anywhere near another 7 minutes off my PB if I did decide to try again. Trying again is by no means certain and it would be a big decision to commit again…

I ran the Belfast marathon in 2003 at 18 years old, in a time of 3:40. The 1:33 and 2:07 splits tell their own story…

After this, I spent years as a shorter-distance runner. I improved to an extent (half marathon time went from 1:25 to 1:11, and 10km time went from 37 to 33 minutes). I struggled a bit with injury and so got into triathlon. I spent years a triathlete with a number of Ironman races, improved to an extent, learned a lot of hard lessons, and finally qualified for Kona in 2019 after nearly a decade of trying. I also picked up a world sprint triathlon championship silver medal that same year. 

Doing two Ironmans, a world sprint triathlon, and world standard distance triathlon was a lot in 2019, and the lesson I took from this was that to achieve the best I possibly could, I needed to focus on one single distance, rather than spreading myself too thin across a range of distances. Total focus on the world sprint distance may well have landed a gold medal. Total focus on Kona would have landed a sub-10. As it was, I got neither. So the question is, what is better, top performance in one single event, or lower performance across a range of events…? Anyway, I am digressing… 

After the 2019 triathlon season came the covid pandemic, and with it came a bad foot. I had to take a year off running, but it finally came good (or rather, good enough), and I got back into pure running again. The “super-shoe” era helped me a lot with injury prevention, I continued to improve my times from 1500m up to half marathon, and I finally decided to have another crack at a standalone marathon.

I ran London 2023 in 2:32, with the splits being around 1:14 and 1:18 (albeit with a quick toilet stop at around mile 17, which I think cost me around 60-90 seconds). It wasn’t a bad attempt. But even if I hadn’t had to stop for the toilet, I had faded badly in the final 5-6 miles. The toilet stop hadn’t cost me the sub-2:30, it was the final 5-6 miles that cost me. So I knew there was so much more to come, and I knew that I could improve in so many aspects of my training, my nutrition, my hydration, my recovery, my racing.

I then broke the whole marathon training and racing process down, thought about every aspect of it, and how I could improve things. I made a list of everything I thought I could improve on. This list was scribbled onto a single page of A4, and there were about 20 things on this list, with some things tying into other things, arrows, underlining, asterisks. A mess of a page, but a blueprint nonetheless. 

All these improvements worked well for me, and the end result was taking 7 minutes off my time, clocking 2:25 and exceeding my own expectations.

I thought it was worth trying to write this list up in a coherent fashion, and what follows below is my attempt at doing this.

I will say that the below is particular to “me”. It worked for “me”. Where I say “you” in the below, it refers to “me”…! It is simply a record of what worked for me, why it worked, and how it all went. But there may be universal elements of truth in some (or most, or all) of the below. 

1.    Time between marathons – take more than you think you need

I think you need more time between marathons that you think you need. Marathon training, and the marathon itself, are hugely demanding on the body. You need a lot of time to recover. There’s something not quite right about taking more care of, say, your car or your bike (and spending thousands every year doing so), than your body. Bodies are not robotic machines. They need time off, time to recover from training and racing. If bodies don’t get this, they will soon force you into taking time off, whether through injury or illness.

I don’t think you can run a marathon and then say, “Ah, I’ll recover quickly and then crack on to keep using this fitness that I’ve got, I was so close to the sub-2:30, or sub-3, or sub-3:30, or sub-whatever, surely I can do it again in 3-6 months…” I think you have to properly come down after the marathon, whatever the result was, and fully re-set, give the body and the mind a full and proper break, de-train yourself and probably lose some fitness, then build again in shorter distances, and then go again in the marathon a year (or more) later.

Almost immediately after London 2023 was over, I had entered the Valencia marathon, to take place at the start of December 2023. Flights to Madrid were booked, trains to Valencia were booked, accommodation was paid for. “Bring on that sub-2:30 as soon as possible” was my attitude. I was guilty of getting carried away.

I am very glad I ended up not running Valencia. It came around too quickly, and I would have had to start training specifically for it in August. This would have been much too soon after London. Physically and mentally I wasn’t ready to start another marathon build at that stage. It wasn’t actually that difficult a decision to pull the plug on it. I knew I wasn’t ready, I knew I wanted to go back to London in 2024, and I knew a year between marathons would be much better than trying to force it too soon. If I had run Valencia in December 2023, I may well have ended up disappointed, and then there is no way I could have gone to London in 2024 just a few months later.

A full year between marathons allowed me to come down after London 2023, have a proper physical and mental break, build again slowly, and train well for shorter stuff. I had a really good late summer and autumn of 2023, ran 30:56 for a 10k PB in October, and then took a break in November. This break was prior to starting the marathon build for London 2024. The short stuff I did set me up well for the marathon build, and I was ready, fresh and motivated for the marathon build when December came and it was time to start the marathon build. I did a 3-4 week “pre-build” in December 2023 to get the long runs up from 80 minutes to 2 hours, and then it was into the full build in January 2024.

 

2.    Choice of marathon – make logistics easy, minimise stress, familiarity helps, do one that motivates

Even though I had decided not to run Valencia, I travelled out anyway to watch. I was so glad I wasn’t running it. London is “familiar”. Spain is foreign. The food, air, temperature, accommodation, the course, everything is different and it can upset your equilibrium.

I knew London inside out, everything was familiar, and there is no doubt that all of this contributed to a much better London in 2024 than 2023. So I think familiarity is important.

I also think, for me, it was important to do a “motivating” marathon. In late 2022 I did think a lot about possibly doing Manchester or Edinburgh in 2023. There were good arguments for each, but I felt most motivated by London and I didn’t regret it. London is rock-star stuff! It’s an iconic race in an iconic city, with amazing support.

 

3.    Consistency of training – vital

This is the most important thing. Consistency is everything. I was very consistent in my training for London in 2024. So much effort went into being consistent in my training, week in and week out, month in and month out, and this is all described below. I also knew I was in a fairly "stable" period of life, and was fortunate enough to have circumstances (partly by design) which allowed me to fully focus on and commit myself to the marathon, and that I'd be able to be consistent in my training and recovery.  

For the whole build-up and through to the race, for every decision I made in life, it was made from the point of view of: “Will this benefit or hinder the marathon?” Could I look myself in the mirror every evening and answer “yes” to the question: “Did I do everything I could today to benefit the marathon?” I really tried to do everything I possibly could to maximise the chances of getting the best possible outcome, and minimise the chances of something going wrong, and/or not getting the absolute best out of myself.

I didn’t want any regrets, or to look back and say “What if…?” or “If only…”

And I have no regrets. There are no “What ifs” or “If onlys”. What I did was the absolute best I could do. It was a big effort, with a lot of commitment. A full 5-month commitment. Or arguably a 17-month commitment, because London 2024 would not have been as good without having done London in 2023. Or arguably a lifetime of commitment to endurance sport, which all built and led to the 2:25 performance at the London marathon in 2024.  

There was no more to give. Yes I might make a few very minor tweaks if I was doing it all again, nothing can be perfect, but it was as good as it could have been and, unlike last year, I don’t feel that I “have to” do it again – there was more to come after last year. I don’t know if there is more to come after this year. 

 

4.    Not sweating so much in training

I’m cold all the time. I hate being cold. In early 2023, I would go out to train in a thick base layer, sweaty jacket, hat, gloves, and thermal leggings. I was never cold. But without realising it at the time, I was certainly digging myself into a hole, especially in the long runs. I would lose so much weight in sweat, I would be so dehydrated and “de-electrolyted” and de-salted, I would never quite recover from these weekly long runs, and so I would dig myself deeper and deeper into the hole each week.

It was crazy, in hindsight. I was barely drinking or taking on nutrition on these long runs either. Nor was I eating or drinking properly after them either, to help with recovery.

In 2024, I trained in a light base layer, no jacket, and I generally didn’t wear a hat, so I didn’t sweat anywhere near as much. This meant that my salt/electrolyte levels weren’t being depleted. This in turn meant I wasn’t digging myself a deeper and deeper hole each week and I was able to recover quickly from my long runs.

All that said, I erred on the side of caution when it came to leggings. My legs don’t sweat much, but they do get cold, so I often wore leggings rather than shorts when running. This helped to keep my leg muscles warm, and reduced injury risk.

 

5.    Fuelling properly in training – this enables better training, and better racing

Before any hard session, I took a gel with 40g carbs. During my long runs, I took 40g carb gels every 30 minutes. I carried these in a FlipBelt – a great product, I didn’t even notice I had it on.

I carried 700ml water, and drank most if not all of it on my long runs. I literally carried it in a water bottle, which was a little bit annoying, but then it meant that race day and not having to carry it, was very freeing. Towards the “business end” of the long runs, for example when running mile 17-20 hard, I tended to dump the bottle, it was usually empty by then anyway. 

This all helped me to be stronger on my long runs, it helped to train my gut to tolerate the higher carb intake (and fluids), and it meant I was finishing the long runs much less depleted than in 2023. This then helped with recovery. 

On a long run in 2023, I might have had none or one or two 23g carb gels and a few gulps of water. This year it was four or five 40g carb gels with 700ml water. This is a huge difference, and it showed in training performances, recovery, and in the race itself.

 

6.    Choice of gel – SiS Beta Fuel

I knew I needed to take on more carbs in the race this year, to avoid the slow-down in the final 10km of the marathon. To achieve this, I knew it wasn’t realistic to take a 23g carb gel every 15-20 minutes – this would have been too much, too sickly, and I’d have ended up being sick or needing a toilet stop. So I needed a 40g carb gel, which I’d take every 30 minutes.

Precision Hydration gels were nice, but only had 30g carbs – not enough. OTE gels had 40g carbs, and electrolytes, but were too sickly.

SiS Beta gels were expensive but nice, and I got on well with them. So this is mostly what I trained with. They have caffeine ones too, and in all my long runs the final gel that I took was a caffeine one, because I knew the final one I took in London would be a caffeine one. I would need the kick! They worked very well.

 

7.    Electrolytes – pre-loading and post-loading rather than in the race

My choice of gel meant I had an electrolyte problem to solve. The OTE gels had electrolytes in them but they didn’t taste good or sit well. My preferred SiS beta gels didn’t have electrolytes. How hard can it be for a gel manufacturer to make palatable and stomachable 40g carb gels with electrolytes…?!

Haunted by failed Ironman races where my black shorts turned white with salts, my top became crusty with salt, my lips turned white, and my badly cramping legs reduced me to walking, I knew I needed to sort this out. I spoke to a couple of good marathon runners at my level or better, and they indicated they didn’t take electrolytes on the run. Sweatier runners did take electrolytes, but I know I don’t sweat much when I’m wearing a vest and shorts.

So I went without electrolytes while actually doing my long runs. I never felt I needed them in long training runs, so in time I built up confidence that I would be fine in the marathon. I knew it was unlikely that the marathon would be scorching hot anyway. It’s “only” two and a half hours, not a full 10-hour Ironman, where you certainly do need electrolytes.

But, as a contingency, I did always carry a few Precision Hydration electrolyte capsules that I could take if I felt I needed them in training. I carried them in London this year too, but never felt like I needed them. But it was good to know they were there.

All that said, I still needed electrolytes! So I did put a lot of effort into pre-loading and post-loading on electrolytes: I put a little salt on most of my meals, I took an electrolyte tablet diluted in water on Friday and Saturday prior to my long Sunday runs, I took a recovery drink with protein, carbs and electrolytes immediately after my long run and immediately after tough shorter sessions, and I took an electrolyte tablet diluted in water on Monday and Tuesday after my long run.

On long run day (and on marathon day), with breakfast, I swallowed a Precision Hydration electrolyte capsule, rather than take an electrolyte drink – these drinks were making me burpy and pukey on my long runs in training.

 

8.    Immediate long run recovery – “training” doesn’t stop when the run stops

In 2023 I didn’t take any recovery drink, and I tended to graze all afternoon rather than eat lunch after my long run, and then eat a full dinner. So I wasn’t getting what I needed immediately after my long run, and in the hours that followed.

In 2024, immediately after coming in from a long run, I made sure I was warm – I put on lots of layers, a hat, thick socks etc, then took a decent drink of water. Then I slowly drank a recovery drink – protein, carbs and electrolytes – I say slowly because drinking it too quickly made me feel sick.

Then, I’d snack on nuts and bars, and while doing this I’d lie on the floor and put my feet and legs up on the couch, to help drain the lactic away. Within an hour I forced myself to eat a big carb- and protein-rich lunch. Then I grazed on snacks until dinner time, which was a big carb- and protein-rich dinner.

Combined with fuelling and hydrating properly on the long run, my nutrition and hydration strategies set my recovery up really well and meant I was ready to run hard again pretty quickly.

Also, a few hours after my long run, I’d go out for a 30-minute walk, to get everything moving, to stop myself from seizing up, to get blood pumping and to help with recovery. I walked 1-2 miles most days, and found this helped. 

 

9.    General fuelling/meals – get the calories in!

Continuing on this theme, I generally ate a lot better (in terms of eating to fuel marathon training) in 2024 than in 2023. I had a lot more carbs, and a lot more high-calorie foods with substance. Marathon training is a big demand, and the body needs plenty of high-quality fuel.

Breakfast changed from porridge with peanut butter, honey and banana to porridge with peanut butter, honey, chia seeds, nuts and banana.

Mid-morning snack changed from an apple only to an apple, nakd bar and nuts.

Lunch changed from lentils, tofu and peppers to quiche/rice/pasta/potatoes with fish/chicken/falafel/tofu/eggs and vegetables.

Mid afternoon snack changed from rice krispies to lots of muesli with lots of milk and an orange and kiwi fruit.

Dinner changed from rice and falafel/fish/meat-free sausages and vegetables to rice/pasta/potatoes and falafel/tofu/fish/chicken/steak pie/meat-free sausages and vegetables.

Pre-bed food changed from an apple to a nakd bar/porridge and an apple.

In addition to the above, every day I ate lots of ginger, garlic, kimchi, beetroot and turmeric – all natural anti-inflammatories, good for the gut, and they also help to ward off illness.

I was eating more and eating better in 2024 compared to 2023, and I felt much better for it. This was certainly reflected in my training and my much quicker recoveries from the very hard sessions and long runs in 2024 compared to 2023.

 

10.    Body weight – less isn’t more, some weight helps

In 2023 my bodyweight was probably too low. I was going to bed cold, and having to layer up and put a hat on in bed – the things you do…! In 2024, I was consistently 2 to 2.5kg heavier. Initially this bothered me a little, and I thought as the marathon build progressed, I would drop this weight and get a bit lighter. 

But if anything, I actually gained a small amount of weight during the build. In the end I decided that I was running strongly, as well as ever, the training was going really well, and I’d just accept it and keep eating.

To try to lose 1-2kg would have been a really bad idea, it wouldn’t have ended well, and I am glad I accepted the weight, embraced it, and was grateful for what was a strong body.

Plus I was never once cold in bed and never needed to layer up or put a hat on between 10pm and 7am…

 

11.    Actual training – make it personal and trust what works for you, forget everyone else

For me, for training for distances up to half marathon, the following structure is manageable:

Monday: rest. 

Tuesday: Easy 5m. 

Wednesday: Intervals. 

Thursday: Easy turbo. 

Friday: 4m tempo run. 

Saturday: easy 5m. 

Sunday: “Long”, 70-80mins, easy. 

This would add up to maybe 35-40 miles a week. I’d never do two “hard” days in a row. I’d do this for two weeks, then take a much easier week, then repeat the “two weeks hard, one week easy” cycle. Doing this consistently for 2-4 months usually gets me into good shape.

For 2023 marathon training, I never really found a weekly routine that worked. I intended to continue with the above structure, and make the long runs longer, but it never really worked out like this. 

The Sunday long run dominated and dictated everything because I was getting it so wrong, and recovering so badly after it. Tuesday/Wednesday would roll around and I still wouldn’t be ready to run hard, because I wasn’t fuelling/hydrating/recovering well enough. By Thursday I’d be arguing with myself over whether or not to do Wednesday’s interval session, this would then affect Friday’s tempo run session which would either be rubbish or would be put back until Saturday, and then I’d do the Sunday long run again and dig myself deeper into the mire. And I’d repeat this for weeks and weeks.

For 2024, it was different. I’d come off a good summer/autumn 2023, I had good fitness, I’d had a nice break in November before starting the marathon training, and I knew I’d be fuelling and hydrating better. I decided I’d take in a half marathon in March and chose Malaga. This was a tricky decision and ideally I wouldn’t have done this, but on the other hand it was good mentally to have an intermediate goal and I knew I could run a PB. So training from January to early March was marathon training, but weighted towards the half marathon distance.

I coped well with the structure described above, with decent, tough, but not ruinous, long runs on Sunday. The intervals were longer intervals, and the tempo run was “only” at half marathon pace and only 4 miles, so it wasn’t ruinous either. I had a couple of easier weeks where I intentionally missed out on a lot of the intensity and did significantly fewer miles, to allow the body to absorb the training and recover. So I always felt fresh and strong.

I don’t think it’s a good idea to continually hammer out big weeks. I think it’s essential to build easier weeks in, which I have done for years, all through my running and Ironman careers. These easy weeks have been a great mental release, and have allowed for recovering physically, so that I get maximum benefit from the harder weeks and the body can cope.

My weekly mileage for the 20 weeks prior to London 2024 looked like this:

34, 33, 35, 22, 40, 35, 44, 46, 24, 51, 50, 27, 58, 46, 34, 39, 63, 63, 42, 33 (average 41 miles per week).

In 2023 my weekly mileage for the 20 weeks prior to London was:

23, 28, 23, 18, 28, 29, 34, 11, 36, 35, 46, 31, 26, 39, 43, 12, 44, 42, 40, 25 (average 31 miles per week).

The half marathon in Malaga in March 2024 went well and I took a full week of recovery after it. Then, focus switched to pure marathon training. The weekly structure changed and I then had two hard days rather than three. I still kept the long run, but rather than doing intervals and a tempo run, I combined these into a long tempo run with spells at, under and slightly above marathon pace.

I did most if not all of my training myself, and this meant I did exactly what I needed/wanted, exactly when it suited. I didn’t get sucked into running easy days too fast, or doing too much, or too little, or compromising my pace work. It worked really well.

 

12.    Perceived exertion

It took me a while to properly “get” this in my Ironman triathlon racing. “But it’s an Ironman, it has to be hard,” I’d say to myself after 2 hours of racing, and I’d up my pace on the bike so that I’d be breathing hard and my heart rate would be high. And come the run, inevitably I’d be reduced to walking and I’d wonder why…

100% Perceived Exertion (PE) will return different paces depending on when you run at 100% PE. Say you are doing a 10km, and you’re capable of doing 35 minutes (3:30/km). Start out at or near 100% PE and you’ll be going at maybe 3:10/km. Continue at 100% PE and by halfway you’ll be running at around 4:00/km and by the final km you’ll end up at 5:00/km or worse.

It’s the same with intervals. Say you are doing 8 x 800m and could do them all at 2:30/800m. Start at 100% PE and you’ll run 2:10/800m. By the end of the session, your 100% PE will only give you 3:20/800m.

What you need to do is have the confidence to start at 50-60% of PE, and accept that the first half of a race, or the first half of an interval session, won’t actually be that hard. The point of the first half (and arguably right through to the first three-quarters) of an interval session or race is to set you up for a strong finish, where you really make the difference. The final quarter is where you gain the fitness during intervals, or it’s where you really rip through the field in a race and finish strongly.

The 50-60% PE in the first 10-20% of the session or race, and the 95-100% PE in the final 10-15% of the race or session, will return similar paces, but the paces will feel very different.

• For the first quarter or a race or interval session, start off at 50-60% PE, and by the end of the first quarter you shouldn’t be going much harder than 60-65% PE. It should be really comfortable.

• In the second quarter, without making any conscious effort to increase the pace, your PE will naturally start to increase up to 70%, and by the halfway mark you should be working at around 75% PE. Pace may naturally increase fractionally, without you forcing the increase. You should get to halfway totally in control, and not at all feeling it has been in any way “hard”.

• In the third quarter, PE will start around 75%, and by the end of the third quarter you’ll be up at around 85%. You will start to feel like you are working a bit harder, but it’s still under control, still not in the red zone, not “comfortable” at this stage but not really truly “difficult” yet. The third quarter is simply a transition from the easy first half to the business end of the final quarter, where all the gains are made. You want to set this final quarter up nicely. 

• In the final quarter, you start around 85% PE and by the end, maintaining the same pace as the first three-quarters, your PE will naturally build to 95-100% PE. This is where you make the fitness gains, or where you really pull out the fast times and where you overtake people. Done right, the pace and times for the final few reps (or the pace for the final part of the race) should be strong: no worse than the first three-quarters, and if anything slightly faster than the first three-quarters. There are no gains to be made if your times start slipping in the final quarter. If this happens, you are better off having the discipline to stop the session than continuing and doing damage by digging a bigger and bigger hole when you’ve overcooked it and misjudged it. In such a situation, accept you’ll bank some gains from the first 75% of the session, note down the times you were clocking, and try again in a week or two with slightly more conservative times and PEs, so you can complete the session properly.

In time, you can build up a bank of data and times from various sessions that will tell you how hard you can run a session, and what race times your sessions will translate to. If you’re really fit, you can start a session at a slightly higher PE and still maintain pace to the end.

In the race, the same principles apply. It should feel so easy at the start. Trust in it and have the discipline to let it be easy. It’ll get tougher later on, without you forcing it. When it gets hard you want to be able to embrace it and kick on, maintaining or increasing pace, not fading and losing time and going backwards. Experience certainly helps!

13.    Avoiding needing the toilet mid-run – no slop for breakfast (or dinner, or lunch) beforehand, and don’t take too much water on race morning and during the race

I had stomach and gut issues at mile 17 in London 2023, and if that port-a-loo had been 10 metres further up the road then a natural disaster would have occurred. I believe these issues were caused by a number of factors:

• Probably drinking a little bit too much in the race up to that point, and probably also drinking a little bit too much on race morning before the start. I think you need a bit less water than you think you need. I got a bit carried away: “Here’s a water station, I must drink…” In 2024 I purposely missed out on a few water stations. I knew well how much water I needed in 2024 versus 2023, because I had trained with water much better in 2024 than in 2023. 

• Also the port-a-loo stop was probably caused by a sloppy porridge breakfast made in an unfamiliar microwave that probably wasn’t powerful enough, and a slightly sloppy and slightly undercooked microwave rice dinner the night before.

• Finally, I got carried away by all the hype surrounding the new Maurten gels last year. With hindsight, I didn’t like the Maurtens at all – they are like eating frogspawn. I don’t think they sat very well in my stomach – they were too “solid”. Plus they didn’t have enough carbs in them anyway, only 25g.

In 2024, I changed my long run breakfast and race-day breakfast to a lightly-toasted white bagel, with a little peanut butter, a little honey, chopped banana, some chia seeds and salt. It wasn’t sloppy at all, and was easy to digest. I took this with water, but not too much.

You should generally be well hydrated all the time, and so shouldn’t need to “boost” your water intake on long run morning or race morning. I gave this new breakfast ample time to settle, taking just a few gulps of water for the couple of hours while it was digesting before the start of the run. Then immediately before starting the long runs/marathon, I had a few final sips of water and a 40g carb gel.

I’m hungry all the time, but there’s a difference between being hungry because you’re a marathon runner who wants food all the time, and being hungry because you actually need food. You don’t always “need” food if you’re hungry. I accepted that I’d be hungry in the hour or two before the race start, but that I didn’t need food at this point. It worked really well, and with around 3 hours between breakfast and race start, my stomach was nicely empty and everything was well-digested.

Also I had a less sloppy dinner and lunch the night before: fairly dry pasta and rice, tofu and falafel, with hardly any vegetables, and this worked well.

 

14.    General recovery – this is just as important as training

The actual training is only half the battle. How well you recover is just as important. My whole marathon training structure was based on minimising the impact on my running of the essential professional and personal obligations I had in life.

Again, this is another very important reason why training by myself worked so well. I wasn’t getting pulled into interval sessions or tempo runs after a tough day at work, or after working late – in these situations, I believe going out and doing a hard run (forcing it, or squeezing it in) does more harm than good. I think it is better to say “no” and be flexible enough to tweak your schedule, rather than being bound by what others are doing.

I always tried to be as fresh as possible going into my hard runs, and to be “clear” immediately after them, with as little as possible to do, and minimising any obligations. This really helped recovery. There were a couple of days when I had to move my hard run days, due to having challenging days at work or other commitments, but generally I was able to train exactly as I wanted, when I wanted.

For the key sessions, I put a lot of importance on trying to be fresh going into them, and to be able to recover well after them, in order to get the most benefit out of them. So I was constantly plotting and planning when exactly would be best to fit these sessions into my schedule.  

I did quite a bit of walking, 1-2 miles a day, to help keep the legs moving and keep my system continually flushing out lactic and toxins. Finally, sleep is essential and I tried to sleep as well as possible for 8-9 hours per night, using blackout blinds and earplugs to help.

 

15.    Still low mileage – I think most people probably do too many miles

In 2023 I averaged 32 miles per week for the 4 months leading into London. In 2024 I upped this to an average of 43 miles per week, with 2 weeks where I broke 60 miles. It’s still quite low mileage, in relative terms, but I don’t think any additional miles would have helped.

There’s a limit, and I think it’s better to be fresh and consistent averaging 30-40 miles a week, and being really strong when it matters in the hard sessions, than to be tired and have niggling injuries and building chronic (but often unnoticed) fatigue while trying to maintain 60-80-100 miles a week. I don’t think you get the same benefits from hard sessions when you’re doing the high mileages and when you’re building chronic fatigue and stress.

I felt strong and fit and fresh and motivated for the majority of my marathon build, but if I’d been trying to hit 60 or 70 miles a week, every week, I’d have struggled. I can’t help but think that a lot of marathon training plans are written by elite or ex-elite marathon runners, who had ample time and resources to recover well, and who didn’t necessarily have full-time jobs or other significant commitments. The assumption is that athletes following these plans are recovering optimally, which is rarely the case.

Too many miles, too little recovery and no account taken of real-world obligations is going to end in injury and burn-out. It’s the same if not worse for Ironman training plans. Such training plans are not necessarily written for club athletes with full-time jobs and families and daily life stresses.

I believe if you think you are optimally trained for a marathon, you’re probably over-trained and will therefore deliver a compromised performance. If you think you are under-trained, you’re probably optimally trained! But it’s a fine balance…

 

16.    Marathon-specific training – the tail end of the long run is very important

I was much better this year at doing marathon-specific training. Each long run generally built nicely into a fast 3-4 mile finish to imitate the final stretch of a marathon. I had a nice mix of hilly long runs, tempo long runs, at/under/over marathon pace long runs, progression long runs, and the occasional easy long run. But generally, every long run finished with a fast final 3-4 miles and then a slower mile to cool down. As mentioned, these were all really well fuelled and I felt great during them.

A lot of my long runs were done on the flat 1.4-mile loop of the Meadows in Edinburgh. “Was this not really boring?” Not at all, I actually found it much less boring that a long run on the old railway line cycle paths, or a long out-and-back run along the canal. 

In the Meadows, there’s always something to occupy your mind: other runners, people you know, pinch-points that need full concentration (and possibly a warning shout to keep things exciting…), plus it’s nice and flat, there are trees where you can ditch a jacket after the first mile and throw a water bottle, bins to throw gel wrappers into, toilets in case of emergency. I really enjoyed my Meadows long runs much more than I thought I would. Even saying it – 14 laps of the Meadows – sounds a lot worse than it was!

My gut was well-trained with the gels and water, my system was ready for a caffeine hit at the 2-hour mark, and the increase in carb intake during the long run worked really well.

For the marathon itself, in 2023, I took 4 x 25g carb Maurten gels (100g total, so around 50g per hour, or around 0.78g carbs per kg bodyweight per hour). Not enough, and so the last 5 miles were terrible.

In 2024 I took 4 x 40g carb gels (160g total, so nearly 70g carbs per hour, and 1.08g carbs per kg bodyweight per hour). Better fuelling meant the last 5 miles were very strong and I did a negative split (1:13 in the first half and 1:12 in the second half).

I did accept that my average of 32 miles a week in 2023 wasn’t enough. So I lengthened my easier runs, and what was a 40-minute easy run in 2023 built from 40 minutes into a 70-80 minute easy run in 2024. I think this really helped build resilience in my legs, without being too challenging mentally or taking too much of a physical toll.

My easy runs were definitely easy. 7:30/mile would have been a very fast easy run, too fast. Mostly the easy runs would have been in and around 7:50-8:10/mile, sometimes down at 8:20-8:30/mile. I certainly followed the mantra of: “Let the easy runs be easy so that the hard runs can be hard.” If the easy ones are even slightly too fast, then they will compromise the hard runs, and it’s the hard runs that are key.

Most of all, I trusted in myself and in my experience, I trusted that I didn’t need to be doing 60-70-80 miles per week for months on end. I was less mileage that conventional wisdom would dictate, but it was quality training where and when it mattered. 

I can’t really see how I could have added more miles, apart from taking my easy turbo training recovery day and doing an easy run instead, but I think even an easy run wouldn’t have been as good for my recovery as an easy turbo trainer session. The point of this day was pure recovery, to set up the Friday/weekend nicely.

This approach definitely results in less injury risk, less risk of burnout, is much easier to maintain freshness and avoid chronic tiredness, and ultimately returns a better performance.

Maybe if I quit work and employed a full-time physio, chiropractor, osteopath, podiatrist, nutritionist and chef, I could do 80-100 miles per week, but even then I think I’d struggle…! I am happy that my relatively low mileage and high-recovery approach, with easy weeks, doesn’t compromise my performance.

I also have to be mindful that I’m not getting any younger and need to treat the body with respect…!

 

17.    Injury prevention – lots of time (and money) spent on this, but worthwhile investments

I’m a runner. When I’m injured, I often think, from a money point of view, “What I would give to be rid of this injury and to be able to run…” But at this stage, it’s too late, and it’s a miserable process of trudging to physios and trying to maintain fitness on a godforsaken ski machine in a godforsaken gym.

Well, these days, I actually do give “it” before it’s too late. I give it preventatively rather than reactively. I give it while I am able to run, before I get injured, so that I maximise my chances of continuing to be able to run, and minimise my chances of getting injured. I give “it” (time, money and effort) to a number of injury-prevention means and measures, outlined below:

• I love the Nike Alphafly1 shoe. I wore these for every step of training I did. They are so well-cushioned and seem to really suit me. They have definitely helped me avoid injury and as I was once told, they are cheaper and more fun than seeing physios. I was always very injury-prone as a runner, but with the Alphafly1, I have had a great period of 24-30 months largely free of injury.

• I spend a lot of time doing strength and conditioning work at home. Doing it at home is quicker (and cheaper) than going to a gym. I do all the stretches, some yoga poses for back strengthening, hip mobility and strengthening, calf/quad/glute strengthening, ankle and foot strengthening, balance work, core work, arm work, light weights, squats, lunges, planks, press-ups, you name it. 4-5 times a week, for up to an hour each time. It is tedious, but it certainly works. I had been hopping up steps too, for explosive leg power, but it was making my knees sore and I’m more inclined now to scrap something if it doesn’t work than continue to persevere with it. 

• I got a regular sports massage, used a massage gun, and used the foam roller, but didn’t quite manage to get my head around needles and acupuncture…

• I took a hot Epsom salts bath once a week, which helped with muscle recovery.

Yes, this all costs money, but you put so much time and effort into the training, and so I think it’s worth spending the money to maximise your chances of the whole thing being a success, and not ending up injured and out of action…

 

18.    Slow accelerations and decelerations – reduce the load on the body

If a car is driving on the motorway, on cruise control, at 70mph, there is very little load on the car. If that same car is being driven round a racetrack, and subjected to repeated heavy braking and fast accelerations, it will soon wear out. 

I think it’s the same for the body. The maximum loads on the body happen when accelerating from rest during intervals, or when decelerating to a rapid standstill when completing an interval (or indeed at a race start and finish). These are the points where it’s likely you might tweak a muscle, tear something, pop a knee or a hip, or otherwise trash your body.

So in the past couple of years I have mitigated against this by not starting my intervals from a standstill. I note my start point, and I start to jog slowly maybe 30m before the start point, building speed slowly to a moderate pace by the start point of the interval, then building slowly to full pace.

At the end of the interval, or at the end of a race, I don’t just slam on the brakes and stop within a few metres – I coast gradually to a standstill over 20-30m, bringing the pace down in a way that puts no shock loads through my system.

Also, when doing a tempo or a long run, and when a change of pace is needed, I change pace gradually in the same way.

I think this has worked really well to help avoid injury, and maintain consistency.

19.    The surface you run on – keep it predictable

For me it was too risky to run on grass or on trails. There is too much risk of hitting a bump and twisting an ankle, or worse. There’s an argument to say grass and trails are softer than tarmac, and they cushion the impact, and so it’s worth running on these surfaces some of the time. 

But always wearing the soft Alphafly shoes helped me to cushion the impact forces on my legs, and it meant I could run on tarmac all the time. Tarmac is flat and smooth, you can see what’s ahead and what you’re planting your feet on. Much lower risk. 

20.    Podiatry – preventative maintenance for feet

I saw a podiatrist maybe once a month. This kept my toenails in order, and kept my callouses from causing problems. I land pretty hard on the outside of my forefoot, and have got a couple of callouses in these areas that start getting sore when I do the “big” miles, so I need to keep them pared back and under control.

Unfortunately, where I land means I chew through the Alphafly1 shoes, so I keep an eye out for lightly-used pairs on Vinted and Facebook Marketplace. I don’t like either the Alphafly2 or 3, so I don’t know what I am going to do now that the Alphafly1 is not being made any more…

I use a fair bit of Vaseline for long runs and intervals – in between all the toes, on the callouses, and on the bony bits on the sides of both feet. It definitely helps. I also use it on my groin/crotch, and nipples. Thankfully I’ve never had major chafing or blister issues and the Vaseline has certainly helped with this.

 

21.    Socks – they need to be broken in and optimally used/washed

I’ve used Higher State socks for years, and they work really well. I’ve tried other socks but they don’t work as well for me. Higher State socks are also surprisingly cheap.

Socks “wear out”, quicker than you’d imagine, particularly if you use Vaseline on your toes. Socks can get “stiff” and “abrasive” in time, and with repeated usage and washing cycles. When they get like this, you risk blisters. If socks are brand new, and not worn-in a little bit, I find they can also cause issues.

I think that my Higher State socks reach an optimum condition after maybe 4 or 5 wash cycles, and they remain optimum for a couple of months. So I make sure I have a couple of optimised pairs ready for a big race. They feel good, and they perform well, and help to protect my feet from blisters and hot-spots.

 

22.    Illness prevention – do what you can, avoid risky situations where possible, but accept you can’t control certain things

I do what I can here, but sometimes I have to accept that I will have to endure situations I’d rather not be in. I hope with a good, balanced diet with plenty of fruit and vegetables, good recovery, and good sleep, that I stay on the right side of the “knife-edge”. I take a few supplements, especially in the depths of winter – Vitamin D, calcium/magnesium/zinc, echinacea. I drink plenty of water, and eat plenty of ginger, garlic, kimchi and turmeric.

I try to avoid risky situations, I wear a facemask where I can’t avoid a risky situation, and where I know I have to be in a risky situation, I try not to be too depleted (i.e. no risky situations after a hard run).

I found running at lunchtime worked really well, especially in winter – you get out and get some daylight and then can recover and “come down” again before bed, meaning there’s a better chance of sleeping well. I don’t usually sleep well if I train later in the evening. But it’s a balance. If I’m in the office, I’m generally happy to do an easy run at lunchtime because I will not be too depleted in the afternoon. 

That said, if I could help it, I wouldn’t do hard intervals at lunchtime and then sit in the office in a depleted state, I’d sooner try to get away from work sharp, and get them done in the early evening. Or I’d work from home if possible, do them at lunchtime, and then sit depleted in my own place rather than in an office full of people.

 

23.    Length of build/taper – shorten the build, lengthen the taper

First, the taper. In 2023 I did my final long run 2 weeks before race day. I also made this my hardest long run of the whole build (stupid, with hindsight). The run itself was really good and I remember being very pleased after it.

But it turned out that this run was too much, and too soon before race day. It took me ages to recover from this long run because I lost so much sweat, wasn’t fuelling properly, and wasn’t recovering properly. And as mentioned, I was already in a hole. London came too soon after this long run. I also remember saying after London in 2023, “I wish that final long run day had been London marathon day” (after a taper of course!).

In 2024, I didn’t want to make the same mistake. So my hardest long run was 4 weeks out. My last “proper” long run was 3 weeks out, but it wasn’t as hard as the week before. The taper would be 3 weeks, with a shorter long run 2 weeks out. A 3-week taper was better than a 2-week taper for sure.

But with hindsight, I got the end of the build, the last long run, and the taper wrong. I just about got away with it, but I had to fight so hard to get away with it. My hardest long run week (4 weeks out) was a 100km+ week (my biggest ever week). My last proper long run week (3 weeks out) was also a 100km+ week. For a relatively low-mileage runner, these were 2 massive weeks in a row.

But it all felt good, right up until the last proper long run, exactly 3 weeks out. This was a 10-mile road race, which I followed immediately with a further 7 miles. I ran the 10 miles in around 54:30, faster than intended, but it felt great, and pretty easy. I ran straight through the finish line, straight to my car, and spent 60 seconds changing from the Alphafly1 shoe to a brand-new pair of Alphafly3 shoes. I had literally just got these, the reviews were awesome, and I wanted to test them properly before London.

I then intended to do another 6 miles to make up a “metric marathon”, i.e. 26.2km, at marathon pace. Within about 400m, I knew I didn’t like the Alphafly3 shoes. They were too hard, and not as comfortable. I suspect the forefoot sole decoupling on the Alphafly1 suits me as it compresses independently when I land on my forefoot. There is no forefoot decoupling on the Alphafly3 and so I don’t think I get the same compression benefits. I think they are a harder shoe anyway, and I don’t think the toe-off propulsion is as good because the air pods are further back on the shoe.

The smart thing would have been to go back to the car and change back to the Alphafly1, but I didn’t, I carried on, and hammered out another 7 miles (one mile further than intended, one unnecessary tough mile in hard shoes that weren’t cushioning me well). It was an undulating route, and a warm and windy day, and I ran the 17 miles at just about bang on 2:24:00 marathon pace (albeit with a very short pit-stop to change shoes). A good, hard run at the end of a tough 2 weeks. I was tired. My legs were fatigued. I probably overtrained in the final 2 weeks before the taper. But it all felt OK. And this is when I realised that instead of thinking 2:28 or 2:27 for London I should be thinking 2:26, 2:25, maybe even 2:24…

Then, in a dreadful case of Strava making you do stupid and unnecessary things, I did something I’ve never ever done before. I stupidly chased a weekly mileage. I knew a 3-mile cool-down would get me over 100km for the second week in a row. And so this is what I did. I’d have been better off jogging a single slow easy mile, but I did another 3.

Anyway, it all felt fine, but the next day my right knee got sore. Then my foot got sore. My hip got sore. My tongue bizarrely got sore. The 3-week taper should have been a breeze, a joy, sitting with my feet up, my body readying itself for the big day, my mind totally clear, with minimal stress. 

Instead it was a nightmare of flapping around Edinburgh and East Lothian to different physios and doctors, doing self-treatment with ice, self-massage, massage gun treatment, then having to chase hours back at work due to having been away at appointments, working late, the mental stress of wondering whether it was all going to fall apart, berating myself for (in hindsight) being stupid (what was I thinking with those two big weeks?! Why did I persist with those stupid Alphafly3 shoes?! Why didn’t I stop at 16 miles?! Why did I chase the 100km?!)

I went into London disappointed not to have full confidence in my body, particularly after the build had been so good, so trouble-free, so strong. In February and March I had wondered on quite a few occasions on my long training runs if my GPS watch was broken because I was running so fast… it had been that good… and then the taper was so bad…

In the end it all worked out, but I was definitely overcooked in the final week before the taper. I thought the last 17-mile tempo run would leave me optimally trained, but it clearly left me overtrained. So that last big week was too much.

It’s also clear that my build was too long. I started in early to mid-December, building mileage, then got properly serious in early January. Late January would have been fine. A 12-14-week build off decent fitness would be enough, not a 16-18 week build.

 

24.     A strong mind

I had to have a strong mind when all this was going on. Marathon training is tough even when it’s going well, but it’s easier to have a strong mind (or to think you have a strong mind) when things are going well. It’s when things start to get challenging that you really need a strong mind. Experience helps, but when it all seems to be falling apart it’s tough. Not knowing is tough. Will it be OK? Will it all be for nothing? I knew for sure that I was going to do everything I could to give myself the best possible chance of getting on that start line I the best shape possible, in order to get the most out of myself and my circumstances. And so this is what led to all the time-consuming, painful appointments and sessions with doctors and physios, when ideally I should have been taking it easy and enjoying a straightforward taper.

The main thing that kept me going, in training, and when the taper was going wrong, and indeed in the race itself, especially when it got tough, was: “Do everything you can to get the absolute most out of this… you may never be in this position again, especially as you’re getting older, you’ve worked so hard, so you have to get absolutely everything out…”

I realise I have fairly good circumstances and good flexibility in life to really prioritise training and getting the most out of myself. Again, these circumstances may not be around forever, so I want to make the most of them while I can.

25.     Intermediate races – a tricky call 

During a 12-week build, it would be easier (and arguably better) not to be distracted by intermediate races, and not succumb to the temptation to race unnecessarily. It would be a shorter and more intense period of focus where you wouldn’t “need” an intermediate goal, and where you could go “all-in” for the 12 weeks. .

My 2024 build was around 18 weeks, which is a long time to have “nothing” in terms of intermediate goal races, and which is a long time to maintain a singular focus. So I chose to run the Malaga Half Marathon on March 10th.

As a slight digression, in late March 2023 (with the marathon less than a month away) I went to Lanzarote for a week, as I had to use up my remaining annual leave before the end of March. I had a good week, but when I came back my system was upset for about a week. Lanzarote had been hot and windy and dusty and dehydrating (much more so than Malaga), and the change to Lanzarote followed by the change back to Edinburgh upset my system and my equilibrium – different foods, air, temperature, humidity, environments, sleeping patterns, everything. I had an upset stomach, a sore head and diarrhoea, and this definitely set me back.

I wouldn’t plan any trips prior to London in 2024, apart from Malaga itself which was a calculated risk, not as hot, and which was a few weeks earlier in the year than the Lanzarote trip had been. Also, in Lanzarote, I had trained hard the whole time, and I travelled there and back when fatigued and when more susceptible to picking up bugs and illnesses. For Malaga, I travelled out when tapering, so not as much on the knife-edge and not as much at risk. After the race, when very depleted and susceptible, I took it easy, recovered, did some light walking, and then travelled back 4 or 5 days later in a less vulnerable state. It worked well and it was a very different trip to Lanzarote.  

In the build-up to Malaga, I ran hard at the Greencastle 5 mile race on Boxing Day, I ran hard at the Scottish Veteran Relays (5km) in January, and I ran hard at the Ulster Cross Country in February. Each of these three races were about a month apart, and I think they all helped with the Malaga preparation.

The Inverness half marathon was on the same date as Malaga, and it was also an option, but I felt I would have better conditions in Malaga, and with a flatter course too I thought I would have a better chance of a faster time there. 

In a case of “sometimes there is literally nothing you can do despite best-laid plans”, there was a huge storm in Malaga just before the race. The top-floor apartment where I was staying had a thin flat roof, and a rattling air vent, and the noise of the rain was like being inside a jet engine. It lashed rain all night and I had absolutely no sleep before the race. There was nothing I could do – I just had to make the best of it. 

The Malaga half marathon in mid-March was a big, big effort and I ran 1:08:13, a 90-second PB. I struggled to walk for a few days afterwards, but bounced back fairly quickly and within a week I was back in full training again. 

I was also persuaded to run hard at the Scottish Road Relays in late March. I also ran 5km at the Allan Scally Relays, and ran at the Scottish 10m, both around 3-4 weeks before London. I treated these two as training. Therefore I didn’t run super-hard at either of these in order not to disrupt my training so close to London. 

With hindsight, this was all too much racing… With hindsight, one intermediate race or no intermediate races in the build would be best, with pure focus on the marathon and only the marathon.

 

26.    Motivation – you really, really have to have it, and be all-in to get the most out of it

I had good motivation for the whole marathon build period, and even before the build started, I was motivated by the prospect of building towards London 2024. I wasn’t ready to start training for Valencia in August 2023, less than 4 months after London 2023. I was more than ready to start training for London 2024 in December 2023.

I was excited by it, I loved it in 2023, I couldn’t wait to get back out on the roads in London, it’s an awesome event, it really is “Best of British”, and crucially I knew there was a lot I could improve on – this made me excited to see what I could do.

I had seen runners around my age, male and female, lay down some seriously good marathon times. I would be just as good as these guys in shorter distances, and it helped me to shake off what I’d been telling myself for years if not decades: “You’re just not built for marathon running”. I told myself if they can do it, then I can do it. I just needed to actually train properly for it, and to do this I had to figure out how to train properly for it, and to do this I had to firstly do London “badly” in 2023 (a relative term, I know), learn the lessons, and serve my marathon apprenticeship.

I also had some great chats with some quality, experienced, knowledgeable runners, male and female, and they gave me great advice. What a great community.

I’m experienced enough to know myself and my limitations, and to make my own decisions, so I decided some of the advice was good, would suit me, and was worth trialling and implementing, and I equally knew some of it wouldn’t work for me.

 

27.    Travel – make it easy

For London 2023, I carried all my gear in a rucksack. I walked down to the tram, sweated my way to Edinburgh airport, carried the rucksack through the airport, stressed about whether they’d charge me for it, lugged it all the way into and through central London to get to the Expo and registration, and then all the way to where I was staying. This was way too much time on my feet carrying a heavy load.

This year, I bought a small-ish wheelie case (so no carrying heavy bags on my shoulders), paid to take it on the plane, paid to drive and park my car at Edinburgh airport, and went straight from Gatwick airport to Croydon, where I was staying. Gatwick was chosen over the other London airports not because it was the cheapest flight but because it was only 20 minutes to Croydon (where I stayed) on one single overground train.

All this added up to much less time spent on my feet, a lot less weight carried, and much fresher legs and shoulders. I did the same for the Malaga trip too, and it worked really well – much less stress and energy wasted during the trips. 

 

28.    A chaperone – to take the strain

I was really lucky to have a friend in London (Croydon) to stay with in 2023 and 2024. Croydon worked really well as a base – it wasn’t too busy, it was quick and easy to get to from Gatwick airport, and from Croydon it was quick into London Bridge from where you can get transport to the Expo/registration and start line.

I sent my friend a shopping list a week before I arrived. This meant that when I arrived at his place, all my food and supplies were sitting ready for me. I had also “ordered” 8 litres of bottled water – I didn’t want to risk stomach or gut upsets from the London tap water. 

His cooker and microwave were available, so I could cook and eat exactly what I wanted, when I wanted. I had brought my own pillow case (it’s easier to fall asleep on that than in someone else’s laundry smell), earplugs and eye mask.

I had even got him to buy me a camping chair (more on that later). All invaluable.

 

29.    London logistics and keeping Saturday busy – “dead time” is bad, time on feet is bad, but keeping occupied is good

In 2023, I went to the expo and registration on Friday afternoon immediately after flying in. This meant the day before the race, Saturday, was a “dead day”, with only a 3-mile shakedown run to do. It was a long and tedious day.

In 2024, I flew in on Friday in the late afternoon, then I went to the expo on Saturday morning. It was a hassle, of course, but I was straight in and straight out, I had seen it all last year, and didn’t need to spend much time on my feet. 

Over dinner on Friday evening, my friend had put on videos by Ben Parkes (a runner who is prolific on social media). I’m not that into social media, or watching anyone else’s social media, but it was actually fantastic to watch his London 2023 video. It got me really excited to get out there again. So, in the expo, I saw Ben and I did stop for a selfie with him. I’m not really one for selfies so I told him my mate was a big fan…

I went back to base via Primark, where I bought a thick full-zip hoodie for £5, a baseball cap for £2 and a pair of gloves for £2. There was a cold north-east wind blowing and I didn’t want to be cold in the starting pen before the race.

Then I had lunch, digested this, took a short nap (I generally never take naps, but this worked well), went out and ran a few easy miles with 4 short marathon-pace efforts, came back, showered, got everything ready for race day, made dinner, and so Saturday passed nicely and certainly wasn’t a “dead day” like 2023.

I did have a thumping headache on Saturday morning – maybe it was the plane journey, maybe it was the train, maybe it was the change in the air. I was advised by a knowledgeable friend to take some paracetamol. Usually I wouldn’t dream of taking anything like this before a race, but my head was sore and I was assured that paracetamol had been tried and tested before big races and wouldn’t have any negative effects. It worked out well.

 

30.    Pre-race – minimise time on feet and keep warm

The tricky bit of getting to Blackheath station (the station nearest the start) is getting from London Bridge to Blackheath. These trains can be packed. In 2023 it was very unpleasant. Chris Nikic (the first person with Down’s Syndrome to complete an Ironman and complete Kona, and who is now doing all the marathon majors) is treated like absolute royalty an Ironman races. He was in my packed carriage in 2023, rammed in like sardines, no air, hot, smelly, standing up, and he was probably wondering what sort of hell this was compared to the Ironman starting logistics.

In 2024 we went earlier to the start line, so it was less busy. There was a train on the platform waiting to go, jam-packed. We could have squeezed in and stood. But it was very important that I was able to sit, and save my legs and back. So we went all the way along the platform, and waited for the next train. The trains to the start line are pretty frequent, and after a few minutes we were one of the first people to board the next train, and got great seats. 

In 2023 I asked my friend/chaperone/minder to buy me a camping chair. I knew they cost around £10 at Tesco. Clearly you don’t arrive at the starting pen in London a mere 15 minutes before the race starts. You’re there 1-2 hours beforehand. I didn’t want to be on my feet for an hour or two outside the pen, waiting for the race to start. Nor did I particularly want to be inside the pen for an hour or two. The pen is busy, and people are hyped up and stressed. There’s a lot of adrenaline flying about. Not an environment I want to be in for any length of time. 

So I set the camping chair up just outside the pen, off to the side, where I had space, and got myself ready from the comfort of the chair (I have camping chairs in my car for exactly the same reason). The chair was my warm-up base – my friend held the fort/sat on the chair when I was away warming up. He even held an umbrella over my head. It was great to be able to change out of my leggings, take off shoes and socks, put on Vaseline, put on racing socks and shoes, change into my vest, unpack and pack my bags and generally get ready from the comfort of my own chair, under an umbrella, and it’s much easier to do all this while able to sit on a chair, rather than having to stand, or sit on the cold/wet grass.

In 2024 I had hoped to have the chair again, but alas it couldn’t be found in my friend’s flat. Oh well. We were at the start well over an hour beforehand, it was windy and cold, so we found ourselves a nearby bus-stop and set up our pre-race camp there, from where I would warm up, get changed, sort my kit bag, stretch a little, and generally avoid the stress of the pen and starting area for as long as possible.

This bus stop was enclosed on three sides so it broke the cold wind, and had a bench to sit on. It wasn’t as good as the camping chair, but it was certainly much better than being in the pen.

I watched the antics inside the pen. Well before the start, people had already dropped their kit bags in the lorry and so they were freezing in their vests and shorts, 30-40 minutes before the race. A bizarre sort of athletics conga line developed, where everyone started jogging laps of the pen, in a long single-file line, to keep warm and keep moving.

I can think of nothing worse – I would twist an ankle on a bump on the grass, or some muppet in front of me would decide to stop and I’d run into the back of them and trip over, or some muppet behind me would clip my heels and I’d trip. If I survived these hazards, I’d end up running far more than necessary before the race, end up sweating, and then would get cold in the 10 minutes before the race start when actually queueing at the start line. 

I preferred to dictate my own conditions and circumstances, so I did all my preparation outside the pen. I went into the pen at the last possible moment, kept on my big warm full-zip hoodie, cheap baseball cap and cheap gloves, stayed nice and warm, minimised time on my feet, and actually went to the start line nice and warm and optimally warmed up, having totally avoided the ridiculous conga line beforehand.

I was fairly confident I wouldn’t need to take a seat on the port-a-loos before the start, and fortunately I didn’t. The queues were ridiculous anyway. I don’t know why the organisers don’t have more port-a-loos. 

I knew from 2023 that there would come a crunch time, just before we were all directed to the actual start line, when queuing etiquette and modesty would break down, and so it happened again – people needing to pee simply peed behind the screens or behind the port-a-loos rather than in the urinals or in port-a-loos. I was quite prepared to do this, although I did wish they had more port-a-loos and hundreds of people weren’t forced into doing this.

Finally, in 2023 I was a bit conservative in where I placed myself when we were all actually behind the starting line waiting to start the race. It took me maybe 15 seconds to get across the start line. In 2024, I spent the 5 minutes before the race start working my way almost to the front, and got away almost immediately. This wasn’t unreasonable, I was hoping to be well within the top 100, and I was positioned accordingly.

 

31.    Mindset for the “uncontrollables” – do what you can to maximise your chances of success, and accept there are things you can’t control

As the title of this section says, and as I have explained, I did everything I could do maximise my chances of success. But there are certain things you just can’t control. One example was the storm in Malaga before the half marathon race, and not sleeping as a result. 

Similarly, the weather in London in 2023 was pretty terrible. It was wet and cold. There was nothing I could do about the weather. But I could control my attitude to it, and I literally had a talk with myself on the start line, telling myself, “Whatever happens, you must enjoy this and do your best. You’ve done too much to have it ruined by a bit of rain.” And so I did – I smiled through the rain for the first 14 miles, grimaced for the final 12 miles, I did the best I could and I had a brilliant day, even though it wasn’t the outcome I wanted.

In London in 2024, everything seemed to fall into place. The weather was better. My dodgy foot didn’t trouble me in the race. Everything fell into place. Sometimes you have to roll the dice more than once, as I know from my Ironman days. If I hadn’t done London in 2023, there is no way London in 2024 would have been as good as it was.

That said, even though I knew I was in great shape, I needed a good body to deliver a time that justified the shape I was in and the work I had done. So I was disappointed to start the race not having full and total confidence in my body. I knew my foot and knee had been niggling over the past few weeks. I knew deep down I had probably overtrained a bit, and that my build had been just a bit too long. But it was what it was, and I had to make the best of it.

So maybe you also have to realise that achieving big goals can take several attempts, and that you have to really enjoy and relish the process – if this is the case then accepting things and trying again when something doesn’t work out is going to be a lot easier.

32.    First quarter – has to feel “too easy”, accept this, and enjoy it

I ditched the hoodie literally 5-10 seconds before crossing the start line. Before the start, it was easier to work my way to the front of the pack down the right-hand side, so I was on the far right as I started, and it was easy to toss the hoodie to the side. Most other people had tossed their tops or bin-bags etc much too soon and were standing getting cold for up to 5 minutes.

One small error was that the hoodie had caused the number on my back to rip free of its pin, in the top-right corner. This meant the number was flapping around for the whole race, but I didn’t even realise until afterwards. I should have been more careful putting the hoodie on and taking it off, so that this wouldn’t have happened. 

Immediately after the start, I knew the road opened out and got wider on the right hand side, so within 10 seconds I had clear air in front of me. Generally the first quarter was easy. I settled into 5:30-5:35 pace, it felt great, nice and easy. Quite a few people came past early on, but I expected this and I was fairly sure I’d be overtaking them all again later if it all went to plan.

There was a little uncertainty about what pace to actually run at. In any other distance, my years of experience and my training and my racing tells me exactly what sort of shape I’m in, and therefore what sort of time I can expect to run at a given distance, and therefore what pace to run at. I don’t have years and years of data and experience at the marathon, so although I had estimated various scenarios and paces for if things went perfectly, if things went well, if things went acceptably, or if things were varying degrees of “bad”, there was still an element of uncertainty. This made it exciting and I was going to say a little bit scary in terms of how long could I hold the pace, would I hit the wall, would I fade etc. But it wasn’t at all scary, there was only a sense of “I can’t wait to see what I can do, for better or for worse, and to find out what I’m made of…” 

But that said, 4 months of training had been put in, and I had a good idea of how different paces felt and roughly what pace I thought I'd be able to hold. Again, perceived effort was a useful gauge and for the first quarter, I don't think I went above 60-65% PE. 

My body temperature reached a nice equilibrium, I didn’t really notice any wind and certainly never felt any headwind, apart from one sudden gust going down the hill towards the Thames that nearly whipped my cap off my head. I gave the cap away to a young girl after about 4 or 5 miles, and got rid of the gloves a mile later. I had a few gulps of water, and my first 40g carb gel after half an hour.

I took it easier on the downhill section than last year, I fell in with Darrell and Colin and Myles, we chatted from time to time, and I enjoyed the run and the crowds and the city scenery. At this point it was easy, and it needed to be! There was plenty of time later for it to get tough. 

This was what I had trained for, and now here I was – there was nowhere else I’d rather be, and you have to enjoy these moments!

 

33.    Second quarter – still needs to be comfortable

The second quarter was again nice and easy and comfortable. We were heading back towards the city centre and past the Cutty Sark, through the vast and noisy Greenwich crowds, then a “quieter” spell through Rotherhithe (crowds here were one or two deep as opposed to 5 or 6 deep!), and then on to Tower Bridge. 

In Rotherhithe, at the 10-mile mark, I felt a sudden flash of pain in my foot. It settled again very quickly, and I hoped so much that my foot would hold and wouldn’t derail the whole thing. It wasn’t compromising anything at this point, my cadence and strides were good, nice and even on both sides, nice and strong and free and easy. 

I was feeling good. The race had settled. I enjoyed the crowds and the landmarks. You couldn’t help but smile and wave at the crowds going around the Cutty Sark and through Greenwich, it was insane.

I felt the pace had slowed fractionally from about mile 8 to mile 12, from around 5:33/mile to 5:37/mile. It got to the point where I thought about speeding up a bit, but then I said to myself to let Tower Bridge come, reach the halfway point, and then things would naturally change anyway. I thought to myself, “Let the race come to me… Don’t force it…”

The crowds at Tower Bridge really boost you across the river, then you run downhill off the bridge, take a right, reach halfway, and I knew the race would naturally change at this halfway point coming off Tower Bridge. People start to tire, the adrenaline is wearing off at this point, it’s a long way still to go. 

There was no point in forcing the change in pace too soon, and anyway the pace was still fine. If anything, at this point it was better to be fractionally too slow than too fast because this would hopefully pay dividends later.

The gels every 30 minutes were sitting well, I was taking on enough water (but not too much, deliberately missing out on a couple of water stations – I was determined this year not to drink for the sake of drinking just because there was a water station and because everyone else was drinking). This worked well as I never felt any sloshing in my stomach or guts. 

I also found that immediately on picking up a bottle, if I squeezed out maybe a third of the bottle onto the road, what remained in the bottle was less likely to slop all over me as I carried the bottle and tried to drink when running.

Perceived effort built from around 65% at the start of the second quarter to around 75-80% by halfway.

 

34.    Third quarter – the race dynamics change now

Sure enough, the race did indeed change at halfway. I had started to pull away from those around me. I hadn’t made a conscious effort to lift my pace, but people were already starting to fade and I just kept pushing on at a consistent pace.

I went through halfway in 1:13:11, certainly not slow, and I hoped I’d be able to keep this up. I didn’t feel like I was going to have to slow down any time soon. I was thinking that if I could keep it going, I could run 2:26, or 2:27 if I slowed down a little. I had nearly 4 minutes to play with to keep it under 2:30…

It was exciting to see the elite ladies coming back in the other direction, along with some of the wheelchair athletes, and I ran wide, close to the barriers, to get as close to them as I could and shout “well done, well done!”

Then it was into Canary Wharf, where things started to go wrong in 2023. From about mile 14 last year I felt I was going to need to take a seat on a port-a-loo. This year, there were no such issues so far. My stomach felt fine. No sloshing. No burping or retching or dangerous farting. The race really started to spread out going into Canary Wharf. I just kept going, and I kept looking at the next athlete up the road, I’d go past, then I’d look at the next person. It was very motivating. I knew I was moving well relative to everyone else, and I was still feeling strong.

I remember the 18-mile marker for some reason, I had mixed emotions here as I distinctly remember thinking: “Just 8 miles to go…” And then thinking: “But 8 miles is a long, long way, especially after 18 miles…!” My mile splits went a bit crazy in Canary Wharf as the GPS signals struggled for accurate signal among the high-rise skyscrapers. Apparently I ran a 4-minute mile… I knew I was running well, but not that well…

There are quite a few twists and turns in Canary Wharf, and I took the widest possible lines around the 90-degree corners, to try to minimise the impact on my foot and legs. I was in protective mode, I had come too far to have it ruined by my foot giving up at this stage. The wide lines seemed to work well and my foot continued to hold. 

Canary Wharf did seem to drag on a bit, and I was glad to see the back of it. The route went round a couple of big roundabouts and then headed westbound in a long, straight line towards the finish line 10km down the road. No more tight turns!

While still maintaining roughly the same pace (or, if anything speeding, up by a couple of seconds per mile, i.e. a fairly consistent pace), perceived effort built from 75-80% at the start of the third quarter to around 90% by the end of the third quarter. 

 

35.    Final quarter – the business end

Everything I had done up to now was to try to set up a strong final 10km. I was pleased to be in this position. I was thrilled to be in this position. I was excited to be in this position. 10km to run. Still holding pace. Probably on for a 2:26. This is what I had trained for, and now I would see what I was made of. It wasn’t scary or daunting, it was exciting. Unchartered territory. I had never before been running this fast at a 20-mile point. 

What indeed was I made of? I was finding out, and I would continue to find out until the finish line…

I had to tell myself not to get carried away, the last 10km of the marathon are obviously the toughest and I had to stay focused and stay in the moment. Was I doing everything I could in the moment? Yes, I felt I was. The race was thinning out more and more now, but I was still picking people off, I was still moving well, my posture was good, my head was still up, my mind was strong. 

I had felt a small hot-spot building under my big toe for a couple of miles (despite all the Vaseline), and right at mile 20, all of a sudden, it got very painful – whether the skin had come off, or it had burst, or what, I don’t know, but I remember thinking, “This could be a very painful last 10km…” Fortunately, it re-normalised within a minute or two and didn’t really bother me again. The marathon gods had granted me mercy. Maybe this would be my day… Looking at it after the race, I couldn’t see any signs of damage, so I’ve no idea what it was.

I took my final gel – a caffeine gel, the kick would be good in the final 25 minutes. I had no concerns taking it, I had practiced so often with a caffeine gel for the final quarter of my long runs. I had a couple of electrolyte capsules in my back pocket, but never felt I needed them.

There’s a photo and video of me running past my chaperone at around mile 21 with this gel in my mouth. I am absolutely bouncing past, looking strong, able to notice him and nod and wave. What a contrast to last year, where I ran past him at almost exactly the same point, and the video from last year shows me going past like a zombie, with no idea he was there despite him screaming my name, not looking strong, going backwards in the race. 

Onto the Embankment, I was still going well. I was still passing people, and 30-35km were the fastest 5km of my whole race. I was really pleased with this, but I was working very hard for it. Then Darrell came barrelling past. He must have taken on some rocket fuel and had found something special in the final few miles. I knew there was no hope to stick with him, as I was doing all I could to hold my own pace, which was still strong. So I let him go and re-focused on myself. I was still having a great race. 

Darrell is a very good guy, and he later told me he went through a bad spell at halfway, dropping about 40 seconds behind me. He said, “Your flapping rear number was all I was focusing on, not letting it get too far ahead, you dragged me round most of that, thanks!” 

It was a big contrast to 2023, where I had slowed considerably on the Embankment and gone backwards rapidly in the race. I had been swallowed up and spat out the back by a tidal wave of runners who had executed their training and their races much better than me. Not this year. Apart from Darrell, I don’t think anyone else passed me from about mile 12 to the finish line. 

The finish was edging closer, but there was still so much work to do. Things could still go wrong. Running 5:30/mile felt very different now compared with two hours ago, or one hour ago, or even 30 minutes ago. 

I kept going. I was aware, unlike last year. I noted the Shard, the London Eye, Big Ben, and I vividly remember running through the dark underpass at around mile 25 and thinking, “How did I not notice this last year?!” I was telling myself that I was in a great position, that I absolutely had to make this count, that it would all be for nothing if I faded now, to remember all the work that had gone in, to remember these chances don’t come around very often, and to make sure I got the absolute most out of myself on this day. The iron was hot, I had to strike.

It was so tough, but I was hanging in there well, and it was an absolute joy and a privilege to be in the position I was in. I wanted it to be over so badly. I wanted that finish line to arrive so badly, but at the same time I never wanted it to be over. It was a great feeling, a unique feeling, body and mind working at maximum capacity, body and mind working well together, and everything coming together on the big stage and under pressure to get it done. Marathon chances don’t come round very often, and a lot had gone into this – it would all be for naught if I couldn’t deliver. 

Finally I turned right at Big Ben, and at this stage with about a mile to go, I could feel I didn’t have much more to give, so any boost and any distraction was welcome. I needed a lift for the final push, there was no-one else around me, and at that moment, the crowd were all there for me. The time for photographing the elites had come and gone, so at this point people weren’t watching the race through their mobile phones and photographing the seriously fast runners. I gestured to the crowd and they went crazy, and I tried to up the pace. 

Perceived effort was around 90% going into the final quarter and it just built and built: I'd say when I passed my chaperone at mile 21 it was maybe just under 95%, and soon after that, all along the Embankment, it would have been up in the high 90s. I'd say in the final 10-15 minutes it was pretty much maximal.

I was determined to bring it home as strongly as possible. I knew 2:25 was on. I just had to hang on, but it was taking everything I had to maintain the pace. I was determined not to slow down. I wanted to finish it strongly. I wanted to defeat the beast, all 26.2 miles of it, with no let-up. But I could feel I was coming to the end of my reserves. I could feel there was very little left to give. I was glad there was less than a mile left. 4 more minutes. I didn’t have 6 or 8 or 10 more minutes left in me. Just 4 more minutes. I pushed on. Then 3 more minutes left. 

Then the Mall was close. 2 minutes left. Probably less. Leave everything out there. On the final couple of right-handers onto the Mall, I was so focused on taking the shortest line possible, squeezing everything out of it. All I could see was the apex of the corner. Nothing else. Not Buckingham Palace, not the crowds. Just the apex, and the shortest line. I bumped into a policeman who was standing on the apex of a corner. 20cm tighter and that could have been me on the ground. I’ve no idea how the policeman reacted, I didn’t dare look back for fear I’d trip over myself. I didn’t think he’d come after me, and if he did I didn’t think he’d catch me…! I grunted an apology that he probably didn’t hear, and turned onto the Mall.

I wanted it to end so badly, but I also didn’t want it to end so badly too. It was a very weird feeling. But it had to end. The Mall is strangely quiet because it seems to be for paying spectators who are hidden away inside the covered stands, possibly sipping wine and eating prawn sandwiches. They certainly aren’t as enthusiastic or as visible as the crowds elsewhere. Open the Mall to the general public I say! There’s such a magnificent atmosphere the whole way round, and then the finishing 300m are quiet.

Oh well, I didn’t really care. It’s still an iconic finish. Over the line in 2:25, comfortably under 2:26, still passing people right up until the very end. A very solid run. And very well-judged. If that race had gone on even another half-mile, even another 2-3 minutes, my pace would have slowed. 

It was great to have done a negative split too. There aren't many negative splits done in the marathon. I did 1:13:11 in the first half, and 1:12:25 in the second half (in contrast to just under 1:14 and 1:18 in 2023). I overtook 69 people in the second half, moving from 136th place at halfway to 67th at the finish. I averaged 5:33.2/mile for the whole thing, 5:35.0/mile for the first half, and 5:31.4/mile for the second half. 

That second half (or rather, the final third) was an indescribable feeling, a mix of pain, grit, strength, hard work, satisfaction, hope, I suppose fear that something might go wrong, desperation and (I think) joy buried deep in there somewhere too. There's an argument to say I should have retired on the spot at the finish...

My 5k splits were 17:12, 17:18, 17:33, 17:20, 17:10, 17:10, 16:52, 17:16 and then 7:45 for the final stretch. This is in contrast to 2023 when my 5k splits were 17:37, 17:41, 17:32, 17:22, 17:09, 18:23, 18:11, 19:51 and in the final stretch.

My 10k splits were as follows:

0-10k: 34:30
5-15k: 34:51
10-20k: 34:53
15-25k: 34:30
20-30k: 34:20
25-35k: 34:02
30-40k: 34:08

The 2023 10k splits were as follows:

0-10k: 35:18
5-15k: 35:13
10-20k: 34:54
15-25k: 34:31
20-30k: 35:32
25-35k: 36:34
30-40k: 38:02

It's interesting to note that my first half marathon, the Inverness half in March 2004, was done in 1:25. My first 10km was the Laganside 10k in Belfast in April 2004 in 37:17. My first marathon was Belfast in May 2003, in 33:40, with a 1:33/2:07 split... I can't actually remember my first 5k time but I imagine it would have been in and around 17 flat.

 

36.    Immediate post-race – defining success and thinking about recovery!

I hung around the finishing line for maybe 15 minutes. It’s a special place. Marshals made half-hearted attempts to move me on, but it wasn’t too busy at this point, and I enjoyed watching people coming in, chatting to people I knew, watching dreams come true and watching disappointment written across some faces too.

I think anyone who commits to a marathon, does the work, puts themselves on the start line, and makes it to the finish in one piece and still standing, can deem their day a success, regardless of whether they achieved their targets or not. We take on the challenge, we work hard for it, there are no guarantees, and yes we may be disappointed as I was in 2023, but I still deemed the whole thing a success in 2023 and have great memories from it. If you can say you did the best you could with the circumstances you had, and can (literally) walk away unaided and in one piece, living to fight another day, that’s a massive success in my book. Even if it wasn’t what you wanted, there will be other days. You can learn and try again. 

Then I started to get cold and needed to get layers on. So I got my bag from the trucks (what an operation to move 50,000 bags from the start to the finish, and the volunteers and finish area marshals were fantastic), sat down on the kerb, took my shoes and socks off and layered up. I marvelled at how my bare feet looked – I thought they’d look a lot worse. No blood, no blisters, no toenails turning black or hanging off. 

I knew there would be no food available at the finish (this was poor from the organisers, in 2023 they had given us a slab of flapjack, which wasn’t much but a lot better than nothing), so I had protein and carbs and liquid in my bag that I made an attempt to get into my stomach. This was important, to eat and drink something that would help with the immediate recovery.

I took my time in the finish area, then it was time to go. My goodness it was tough to walk! My foot was very sore. But walking would do me good. I went and picked up a chicken sandwich which went down pretty well. I called into the pub, saw a few people, had a sip of Guinness but couldn’t stomach any more. In 2023 I hadn’t really bothered with the pub, but this year I was glad I did, it’s part of the London marathon experience and it was good to chat through our races and experiences on the day with people I knew.

Then I headed back to base via the Cornish pasty shop. I was surprised how “vulnerable” I felt walking slowly, and knowing that I couldn’t activate any fight or flight whatsoever.

I had plenty of water, electrolytes, carbs and protein back in Croydon where I was staying. My muscles didn’t actually feel too bad, but my foot was pretty sore – I couldn’t plant it properly. But I told myself I’d just done a 2:25 marathon and obviously everything was going to be sore, probably for weeks, and to accept this!

 

37.    Full recovery – no rush

My muscles were really sore the next day, and for about four days afterwards. I tried to be sensible with the eating and drinking, but at the airport I ate a double whopper burger and giant donut. They weren’t even that nice and I didn’t even really and truly want them. It was probably just the mental release I craved more than anything! I did quite a bit of slow walking in the first week after the marathon, which I think really helped to get the legs moving, and get the body active, and to get some fresh air.

I realise it's important not to fall into the trap of wanting to use all the marathon fitness for other events in the near future, within a few weeks or months. The marathon fitness, and all the associated training and fitness, is for the marathon, for that one specific day, the biggest of days. If you finish the marathon I don't think you should try and continue as normal in the weeks that follow. You need to come down, respect the damage that the marathon does to a body, and allow it to recover. 

I think a lot of people get back into a regular training routine (featuring sessions, intervals, tempo runs etc) too quickly after the marathon. They say you need a day to recover for every mile you race, so for a marathon that’s pretty much a month. I’d say if you think you are recovered from a marathon, you’re probably not. I’d also say to double the recovery time for a marathon to 2 months, with the first month in “full recovery” mode and the second month building back gradually.

Within a few days of London 2023, I had entered Valencia, planned and booked flights and accommodation, and was itching to get back at training for it. Sub 2:30 was surely inevitable in Valencia… bring it on… no bother… take a week or two after London and then pick the training back up where you left off… How naïve!

In 2023 I came back too quickly and was still struggling nearly 3 months later. I was guilty of getting carried away on the London euphoria in 2023, and ended up picking up all sorts of injuries when I tried to get back to training too quickly. I was being forced to abandon sessions in June and July, I was being forced onto the ski machine in June and July, and I never really got back in a proper training routine until mid-July.

This year, I will take my time coming back. I will not go entering autumn/winter marathons like Amsterdam or Valencia or Seville. I will take my time before thinking about whether or not to do another marathon, and I will take my time coming back to regular intense training with intervals etc. 

The body has been through an intense 4 month build-up, and a very intense and damaging race, and it needs some time, care and respect to recover, repair and refresh.

So for 2 months I will do some easy cycling outdoors and enjoy the better weather, some easy turbo training, some easy swimming, a bit of walking, and some easy running. I’ll visit the physio regularly and get a good few massages. I’ll use the foam roller and massage gun. I’ll take hot Epsom salts baths. I may even get some acupuncture. 

I have neglected the tedious core work and strength and conditioning work for a few weeks immediately after London, again I need the mental release of not having to do this, but I will get back into it in the second recovery month after London.

I’ll accept that I’ll probably put on weight and lose some fitness, but that’s all OK. In fact, it’s more than OK, it’s probably essential. After a month, by choice, I will start doing some higher intensity work on the ski machine/elliptical/cross trainer/whatever you want to call it – this is as close to running as you can get, without the impact of running. 

Then in late June I will begin to get back into sessions, and build slowly back to normal training by late July, to be fully fit again for the Stirling 10k in September 2024.

38.    Another marathon?

Will there be another marathon? I’m not sure. I couldn’t leave it after 2:32 last year, because I knew there was a lot more to come. I’m not sure there is much more to come after 2:25. I might be able to squeeze a little more out of it if everything went fantastically well, but I wonder would it be enough to justify going through the whole thing again, risk it not being as good… or just leave it on the high that was 2:25…?

But then, I loved the whole thing in 2023 and 2024, despite (or perhaps because of) its many challenges… London is some race, and my two London marathons were definitely two massive life highlights for me in 2023 and 2024.

It does lead to another train of thought, that if I applied the lessons outlined above, and applied some other triathlon-specific lessons, how much faster could I go in an Ironman (I suspect with full commitment I could go close to sub-9 hours, if not break it), and would I want to go through that all again…? Or do I just let it all go, and be happy with the Kona qualification that was the target for so long, and the 2:25 marathon that was such a good day…?

39.     Thanks

It would be remiss of me not to acknowledge a few people. Obviously, there have been a lot of people who have helped, encouraged and inspired me since I started running many years ago.

However, specific to the London marathon 2024, and the improvement from 2023, the following people are due thanks for their significant help, advice and wisdom.

In no particular order, I learned a lot from these people:

Sara G – as I approach 40, she is an inspiring athlete showing that V40s can perform at a very high level. Some great help and advice on the mental side of things, envisioning, focusing, goal-setting, motivation and drive, trusting the body and the training, taking paracetamol, and just generally being supportive and encouraging.

Stuart J – as above, another inspiring athlete also showing that V40s can perform at a very high level. Some great advice on the hydration and fuelling side of things, on sweat rates and electrolytes and also showing that you can indeed perform at a high level while maintaining a good balance in life. Also very encouraging and supportive and always good banter.  

Amanda W – yet another inspiring athlete, showing you can come back after adversity and that you can adapt well to long-distance running even if you might not have originally thought you could and if you came from a shorter-distance background. Some really useful discussions on eating, fuelling, calories, bodyweight and functioning, and having a strong body and positive mindset. 

Colin R – a coach/athlete who has known me for a good long while, who showed me what a marathon training plan should actually look like, and gave me an idea of the difference between 5km/10km/10m/half marathon training and marathon training.

Neil B - it really helped to have a boss who was supportive. 

Also, generally observing what Mark D, Colin D and Darrell H were doing in training was a big help to me, and seeing how this training translated into incredible marathon times. These are great men, roughly my age, roughly my level in shorter distances, and so it inspired me to think “if they can do it in the marathon, surely I can too…?” 

I was able to see what these really good athletes and coaches were doing and recommending, and I was able to take this and adapt it to suit myself. I doubt I would have got very far if I'd copied or followed their training exactly – the mileages would have been too much for me. But it was certainly interesting and useful to see.

I also took inspiration from seeing (in person, and via online results) various people/friends/peers lay down some really good marathon results over the years. 

Ian M (and Lucy and Murray!) deserve a lot of thanks for putting up with me. They facilitated and helped when I was actually in London with accommodation, food and drink buying, chaperoning, supporting, encouraging and being pragmatic and calm in the final day or two in the lead-in to race day.

Physio Danielle R, sports massager Bob C, and podiatrist Katherine R were also all really helpful. 

There are of course many others who also helped and inspired over the years, but the main people associated with the 2023-2024 marathon improvement are named. 

40.     Early inspiration anecdotes

16 or 17-year old me decided I was going to break 3 hours in the Belfast marathon in 2002. My dad ran a few marathons in the 80s and never quite broke 3, but his four finisher’s plaques, on reflection, likely had quite a big influence on me when I was young. Growing up, I always wanted to break 3 hours in the marathon someday.

I was too young in 2002, you have to be 18 to run a marathon apparently, and the Belfast marathon wouldn’t let me enter. So I ran it in 2003 aged 18, and on reaching the halfway point in 1:33 I thought, “Yep, I can still do this…” Then 2 hours and 7 minutes later I realised, “No I can’t," and I wondered "How on earth do you take 41 minutes off a 3:40 marathon...?"

But breaking 3 hours remained a major goal of mine. And so 20 years later I tried again, and broke 3 by over 27 minutes. It was maybe surprising it took 20 years to try again. You might think I’d have been happy with this, but I knew I could do better. So one year after that, I actually managed to do what I’d deem to be a decent marathon.

18 year old me, in “training” (if you could even call what I did “training”) for the Belfast marathon in 2003, was very inspired by Paula Radcliffe running 2:15:25 at the 2003 London marathon. I still think this is the best running performance I have ever seen. 

18 year old me was equally inspired by Michael Watson completing the 2003 London marathon. He was a boxer, who, in a fight with Chris Eubank, suffered serious brain damage and nearly died. But he defied the odds, built back, and completed the marathon in 6 days. I read his book, “The Biggest Fight”, shortly afterwards. I re-read it 21 years later around the same time as the London marathon in 2024. An incredible story. 

I remember getting hold of the 2003 London Marathon Magazine, which contained the entry form for the 2004 race. On the back page of this magazine was a photo montage from the 2003 London marathon, and a quote from Chris Brasher, founder of the London marathon: "There's just nothing you can't do..." I found and bought this magazine on ebay recently. What a thing to have, and how times have changed, and yet the marathon is still the marathon, arguably the ultimate challenge...

And with that, here ends my 2023-2024 marathon story. It was quite a marathon to write it all. I hope I live to a good old age, and I wonder what I’ll think when I read it all back in years to come…?!