Did I Mention I Ran a Marathon?

How It Started

My first marathon wasn’t glamorous, fast, or easy. It was the Isle of Wight Marathon, and I ran it with my dad for his 60th birthday, his wish was for us to do something special together, I probably would’ve suggested slippers as a more sensible gift, but he suggested 26.2 miles.

At that point I was still fairly new to running. No GPS watch, no training plan, just fitting running in three times a week alongside working full time, 2 small children, and a long run at the weekend. Looking back, it was as simple as training gets.

However, what no one mentioned when we signed up was how hilly the IOW is, and the fact that the Isle of Wight Marathon was (and still is) no-frills — no big crowds, no fancy expos, no medals shaped like unicorns, just a long, tough course and a handful of hardy runners who use it as a training run for their Ultras/Ironmans etc.

On the day, I remember how naive I was, I hadn’t a clue, my friend and I just ran, her husband would pop up every now and again on his bike, the hills bit hard and by the final stretch it was just us, putting one foot in front of the other; who knew lifting your foot up from the road to the curb would hurt so much.

We crossed the finish line, not quite last but the only people waiting were our families, the race director, and a St John’s Ambulance crew - no crowds, no confetti, no roaring applause.

But here’s the thing, I loved it, no, I mean I really loved it! Something clicked during those miles and I realised marathon training had made me fitter, stronger, and more confident than I’d ever been before. I’d discovered a new respect for myself and for the distance. I’d never had that before and it felt good. My first marathon taught me that it doesn’t matter where you finish, crossing the line is everything and you don’t need fancy gadgets to run long, consistency matters the most. And running is as much about community and family as it is about times and medals.

Why It Still Matters

Since then, I’ve run and coached countless marathons, but I always think back to that first one with my dad. It wasn’t fast, it wasn’t pretty, but it was honest and it lit the spark that’s kept me running and coaching ever since.