At the start of the year, I set myself a goal: run three marathons in six months. Why? Because I love a challenge. Also, because apparently I enjoy scheduling my midlife crises with Google Calendar and Strava integration.
The first of the three was the Great Ocean Road Marathon. Scenic, iconic, and the kind of race where you simultaneously marvel at nature and question your life choices. I didn’t hit my goal time, but I finished strong-ish, upright, and without swearing too loudly near children. A win, in my book.
Next up: the Gold Coast Marathon. Flat. Fast. Allegedly sunny. And just around the corner. If I’m honest, I’m a little nervous about this one. Training hasn’t exactly gone to plan. My legs feel like I’ve been smuggling bricks in my shoes, and I’ve developed a bad habit of turning every easy zone 2 run into a zone 5 pound-the-pavement stress-releaser. Classic mistake. Classic me.
I know I need more rest days. I know I need to slow down to get faster. I know that stress from work plus overtraining equals a bad time. But knowing and doing are two very different things. Especially when your idea of “recovery” is googling carbon-plated shoes at midnight.
But here's the thing: I’m not giving up. I’m in this. Fully. Foolishly. Stupidly committed. There’s something weirdly wonderful about chasing a goal that’s a little bigger than you’re ready for. It forces you to level up. Or at least learn to laugh through the chafing.
Three marathons in six months isn’t about proving anything to anyone other than myself. It’s about chasing the kind of finish line that reshapes you. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. Whether you hit the target time or not (hint, I've already missed). I want to show up on those start lines ready. Or at least ready-ish. And give it everything I’ve got. Even if “everything” some days feels like a half-arsed who's-idea-was-this and a deep sigh.
So here's to progress over perfection. To tenacity over motivation. And to one day hopefully learning that zone 1 isn’t just a rumor. I’m tired, yes. But I’m also in it for the long run. Literally.
See you at the start line. Because every day is a start line.
