I made this semi-crazy plan at the beginning of the year to do at least three marathons in 2025, and I didn't exactly pick them for their convenience. I signed up for the Great Ocean Road, The Gold Coast, and later in the year (because why quit when you're ahead) the Sydney Marathon, which is now an Abbott World Major. At the time, this seemed like a good idea. You know, type-2 fun, goals, self-improvement, etc.
Spoiler: future-me had some thoughts.
The Build-Up (Or: How I Vibed My Way to 44km)
I spent a solid chunk of the first half of the year training and building up my mileage. I even tried to stick to a training plan (an app called Planzy) but if you know me you won't be surprised to read that by week three I was more freestyling than running to plan. The peak training milestone was smashing The HOKA Runaway Sydney Half, which gave me the false confidence that I was now, officially, a runner of consequence.
Naturally, The Great Ocean Road Marathon had other plans.
The Journey South
I drove down solo, working out of the MRI Melbourne office for a couple of days before heading to Apollo Bay, which I can confirm is charming, rugged, and just rustic enough to make you question your choices to live in the big-smoke.
My AirBnB host upgraded me after the previous guests apparently trashed the place. So, thank you, angry bogans, your chaos was my gain.
Fun side note: the Hume Highway is an endless buffet of fried sadness. If you’ve ever wanted to road trip through a landscape of petrol station pastries and people shaped like fridges with arms, The Hume has got you covered.
Race Day: The Cold, The Wind, and The Vibe
The morning of the race, it rained while we were waiting to start and then as if someone hit the Magic Stop Button (tm) it just... stopped. The rest of the run was dry, sunny, and biting cold, thanks to a charming breeze from Antarctica casually ripping up the coast.
The course? Absolutely stunning. The people? Laid back. The atmosphere? Fantastic.
What sucked? Well, somewhere around the “why am I doing this” point (approx. km 38), I remembered that this marathon is 44km long, not 42.2. Those extra 2km are personal. That’s not a bonus. That’s a betrayal.
High point? Definitely the scenery, the peacefulness of the road, the banter with some of the other runners, and that moment where you realise your legs aren’t completely giving up on you. Yet.
Recovery: Schooners and Satisfaction
The legs held up far better than my last marathon. I trained harder and smarter this time. Post-race, I celebrated the way any sane person would: pizza and a couple of schooners. With my medal still round my neck because why not.
Would I do it again? Maybe not. It’s a bucket list run, and I’m glad I did it… but unless you live nearby or really enjoy trying to outrun the Bass Strait winds and emotional doubt, once might be enough.
TL;DR: Should You Do It?
It’s a great run, go prepared for cold, and make a week of it. It’s beautiful, brutal, and totally worth it. Just don’t expect it to be easy. And definitely don’t expect salad on the Hume.
