I once witnessed a close friend in a state that was almost unbearable to see. He was hobbling, hands clenched, face contorted and plastered with sweat. He was in the depths of the 2023 Sydney Marathon. Thirty kilometres down and 12 more to go. I remember thinking: “Why on earth would anyone put themselves through this?”
Fast forward two years and in a matter of hours, I will find myself on the same route that almost broke him.
Eighteen months ago if you asked me if I could run a marathon I would have smugly told you I’m “anatomically not built for running”.
Marathons were completely outside my wheelhouse. I witnessed my dear friend suffer. Why would I willingly put myself through that? Yet here I am, about to attempt a distance that only about 1% of the population ever completes.
What changed?
Somewhere in the swirl of my desire to spend more time outside and running’s cultural boom, like thousands of others, I found myself running. When I first started it was hard but I can do hard things, I told myself, and so I persisted.
Soon my 3km jog grew to five, which grew to 10. The next thing I knew I had signed up for a half marathon. The goalposts for what my body could achieve kept expanding and it felt incredible.
Then the Sydney Marathon announced its elevation to Abbott World Marathon Major status. For the first time, Sydney would join the legendary company of London, Berlin, Boston, Chicago, New York and Tokyo. The offer to take part in its inaugural year felt too special to ignore.
The choice to do it wasn’t just about the challenge of 42km. It was about experiencing my city transformed – its streets shut off to cars, alive with celebration and full of the kind of collective energy that lingers long after the finish line.
But I do wish somebody had told me that training for a marathon is a marathon in itself. Running that distance isn’t something you can fluke. You could try, but most experts would strongly recommend against it. Not to mention the world of pain you’d be in.
You need weeks of consistent running to build a strong base and gradually increase your weekly mileage. Add in strength sessions so your body can handle the load, speed work to make you faster and a healthy dose of stretching and foam rolling and suddenly your calendar is chock-a-block. If you are time-poor do not train for a marathon.
My long runs on the weekend slowly increased in distance and before I knew it I completed a 30km run and didn’t disintegrate to dust. But with that benchmark also came the complete inability to get off the couch for at least 24 hours.
Beyond the shock and delight of discovering what my body could do, running gave me something I didn’t expect. My training became something much deeper after the sudden unexpected death of my father. Running gave me structure when grief left me hollow.
I found comfort in the pink hues of morning light, meditation in the rhythm of my feet on the pavement and pride in finishing runs I once thought were beyond me. Even when I felt as if I couldn’t keep going emotionally, my body showed me that I physically could.
I got through many of the hard long runs with some of Sydney’s run crews who transform a solo sport into a family activity. On those runs, I wasn’t defined by my grief. I was part of a community, moving together, doing what we collectively love and in those hours I felt free.
The marathon demands that you push when you want to retreat. The training teaches you resilience that seeps into other corners of your life. It’s no longer just about finishing a race, it’s about knowing you’re stronger than the part of you that wants to stop.
As I walk towards the start line on Sunday with about 35,000 others to embark on the insane 42km journey, I know my stomach will churn with equal parts excitement and fear. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified but the fear doesn’t intimidate me.
The fastest runners do it in two hours, most of us take four to five. The training has taught me it’s not just about running the distance, it’s about resilience, connection and proof that even when life feels impossible, we can endure it.
