Race day had finally arrived after months of preparation, training, and mental build-up. The morning started early with a 45-minute walk from the accommodation to Preston Park. With the race scheduled to begin at 10:13 am, I had plenty of time to get ready, but the cold morning air made me hesitant to arrive too early. The last thing I wanted was to be hanging around in the cold, waiting for my wave to start.

The night before, I checked the weather. It was going to be dry and not too hot, which was a relief, but I knew the wind would be a factor. There were forecasts of gusts up to 15 mph, and running along the seafront could get a little gusty. With this in mind, I mentally prepared myself for the challenge.

As we made our way to the start, it wasn’t immediately clear if we were on the correct route, but soon, we started seeing more and more runners with their official race day bags. That was the confirmation we needed. Upon arrival, everything seemed very well organized, and the bag drop-off process was efficient, though it was located far from the main park entrance. Once that was out of the way, it was time to warm up.

I felt the need to clear my system one last time, so I headed to the queue for the porta loos, meeting someone in my wave, which made me feel slightly more reassured. We shared the same concern—whether we’d miss the start while waiting in line. Luckily, I made it back just in time as people were beginning to filter into the wave channels.

I said my goodbyes to my wife, who impressively managed to find her way to the start line and even videoed me as I entered the starting zone. The atmosphere was electric, full of anticipation. My nerves were high, but I was ready.

The Start: Finding My Rhythm

After seeing my wife at the start, I was ready to go, but immediately, the challenge of the course became clear. The first 1k was a steep hill, and the crowd was busy with people pushing past me. I knew better than to charge up the hill at full speed, especially with 42.2 km still ahead of me. I reminded myself that there would be more hills to come, and pacing would be key. As I took the hill steady, I watched others fly past, but I didn’t let it bother me. I knew I’d catch up to some of them later.

Sure enough, as the hill leveled out and we started the descent, I found myself overtaking some of those same runners who had rushed past me earlier. By the time I hit the 6 km mark, I was feeling good, having found my rhythm and settling into the race.

Seeing a Friend and Tackling More Hills

At around 7 km, I had a surprise boost—my friend, who was volunteering at the event, was there cheering me on. That lifted my spirits and kept me focused as the next challenge loomed ahead. At 9 km, the course began another steep climb, one that started building from the 7 km mark. Once again, I reminded myself to take it slow and steady. The temptation to push harder up the hills was there, but I kept telling myself there was a long way to go, and burning out on these early inclines would hurt me later.

The Long Climb and Meeting Another Runner

After that hill, it was a long, gradual climb all the way up to about 18 km. It felt like it went on forever. Somewhere along this stretch, I met another runner who was also tackling his first marathon. He told me he’d only ever run a half marathon before, and while we chatted, I couldn’t help but think he might have underestimated what a marathon entailed. But, it was great to share that moment and have a conversation, which took my mind off the climb for a bit.

A little while later, I decided to speed up a bit as I was still feeling good, and I left the guy behind. I wished him the best, but I knew I had to run my own race. Shortly after, I caught sight of the 4-hour pacers behind me. That was when I set my next mental target: to stay ahead of those 4-hour runners. Seeing them behind me on the downhill stretch was a good boost—I was right where I wanted to be, a little ahead of schedule.

The First Half: A Balance of Effort and Control

The first half of the marathon was a careful balance of managing effort, conquering the early hills, and keeping my pace steady. The mental determination to keep the 4-hour pacers behind me kept me motivated. I could feel the energy of the crowd, the music playing at various points along the route, and the cheers that kept my spirits lifted.

I was aware of the weather changes—the wind picked up slightly as we approached more open areas, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I reminded myself that this was all part of the challenge, and I was here to face it head-on.

The first half was all about staying in control—holding back when I needed to and pushing when the time was right. It felt like a test of all the training I had done, and I was passing that test one step at a time.