In 2015 I got a place in the London Marathon.
I did what I always do. Went full pelt from day one. No coach, no plan, no patience. Just running as hard and as fast as I could, every single time. A few weeks in, my knees gave out. I ended up getting injections. Turns out there was nothing actually wrong with my knees. I was just running like a madman.
I didn't make the start line. Big regret. I filed that one away and didn't think about it for another decade.
Fast forward to March this year. Booked a place in the Tallinn Marathon in September, and a different approach. I did my reading, did some proper planning and built a plan that meant I would be ready for race day.
When going on runs previously, I was running around 4:30 min/kms, working hard but getting it done. When I read that my first runs should be at 8 min/kms, I thought that sounded pointless and honestly, they were awful. So boring. It felt like walking. I kept looking at my watch wondering what on earth I was building and why anyone would think this was a good idea.
But I trusted it. And I kept showing up.
What the last six months actually looked like
Somewhere across 348.5 kilometres of training runs, something shifted. Not dramatically, not all at once. Just gradually, almost invisibly, until one day it wasn't.
A few of these deserve a mention.
Pilates. I am, consistently, the only man in the room. I have been asked if I'm lost at least three times. But it's ok. It's the right thing to do and so we're getting it done. I go every week because the difference it has made to how I move is undeniable. A former Sunday League footballer doing pilates is not something I ever expected to write, but here we are and it's BLOODY HARD WORK. Would highly recommend to anyone and everyone.
Body Glide. I'll just say that there are certain distances at which certain things become non-negotiable, and I found that out the hard way. Body Glide acquired. Problem solved. I'll leave it at that.
Heartburn. I'd been suffering with it for years, quietly letting it cut long runs short, and popping Rennie like tic tacs. Four weeks on medication. Completely resolved. Sometimes the 1% gain is just sorting out the thing you've been ignoring.
The audiobooks. Every single run, I'm listening to something. It's turned what used to feel like dead time into some of the most useful thinking time I get. More on that in a moment.
The race
Battersea Half Marathon, 19th July.
I set off steady but faster than I expected, carried by the crowd. Around kilometre 10 I started to wonder what I was going to feel like at the end. Around kilometre 18, when it started to get hard, I found out.
I still had a sprint finish in me.
That moment, crossing the line knowing I had more left, was the moment it all made sense. The 8 minute kilometres. The pilates. The heartburn medication. The Body Glide. All of it.
What running has done to everything else
This is the part I didn't expect.
The discipline hasn't stayed in the running. It's bled into everything.
I'm sleeping better, eating more deliberately, thinking more carefully about hydration, about how I plan my week, about what I'm doing tomorrow and how today's choices affect it. I'm listening to audiobooks on every run and arriving back at my front door with ideas I didn't have when I left.
Most of the best thinking I've done in the last three months has happened somewhere between kilometres 5 and 15.
In sales and partnerships especially, that reflection is where the creativity lives. The process is never straightforward, and the next move is rarely obvious. The space to think is what makes it possible.
I've started applying the same habit to how I work. Slowing down before something important instead of going in at full pace. Taking time after to understand what worked and what didn't. Looking for the next move rather than just reacting to whatever's in front of me.
Next up: Tallinn Marathon, 13th September. Sub 3:45 target. The work continues.
