The Nine Emotional Phases of Running A Marathon

Ok I know I said I was done for the year but…… When I started this blog, it was supposed to be a cathartic outlet for me during my 0-26.2 adventure. It turned into a bit of a monster and now some of my equally mental chums have decided to “go long” in 2015.

I’m incredibly proud of them for deciding to exit the comfort zone.

If you’re running your first marathon soon, allow me to summarise the 9 emotional phases of a marathon. Roughly. And honestly. (Note: experiences may differ between runners. Some even shit themselves. Mine was shit free)

Mile 1 – Excitement.

The day is finally here! I have trained, carb-loaded and rested and I AM READY. Bring it the fuck on.

Mile 6 – False Hope.

This is too good. I am having THE BEST TIME EVER. My pacing is a little quick but the adrenaline will keep me going. OOOH HARIBO AND JELLY BABIES. I’ll have those.

Mile 12 – Panic.

I’m not even half way yet. Fuck. Really? I’ve been running for hours. My hip hurts. But does it? Oh I’m injured Aren’t I. I should stop. I can’t go on if I’m broken. I need energy. A gel will help.

*takes gel*

Oh that didn’t help.

Mile 16 – Denial.

It’s ok. 10 miles to go. thats nothing, right? It’s nothing.

Wait. Why am I being over taken so much? Why are they so fast? They must be relay runners.

Yes. Yes they are.

Oh fuck this hurts. Where’s the next water station? Don’t take a gel.

Do. Not. Take. A. Gel.

Mile 18 – Hitting The Wall

This sucks. This really sucks. Why won’t my legs move?

There’s a bench over there. I could just take a nap. Like…. Just a tiny nap. Maybe 10 minutes. Maybe an hour. Would anyone REALLY notice?

Maybe I need sugar. Jelly Babies. Ok. *eats jelly babies*

*jelly babies instantly expand in mouth*

Ok I can make it 8 more miles without sugar, right?

Mile 21 – Desperation

THERE HAS NOT BEEN A MILE MARKER FOR 10 YEARS. WHY IS MY KNEE CRUNCHING? I WISH PEOPLE
WOULD STOP SCUFFING THEIR FEET. WHO IS PLAYING MUSIC THROUGH THEIR PHONE OUT LOUD? THERE IS A PUB. WITH A BEER GARDEN.

*concentrates on beer*

I NEED BEER.

Jesus Christ stop offering me jelly babies if I ever see one ever again I will vomit up my intestines.

I need to stretch.

Oh good. A man dressed as a Smurf also needs to stretch.

This is the worst moment of my life. Fancy dress runners are quicker than me.

Mile 24 – A Very Dark Place

One. Foot. In. Front. Of. The. Other.

Walk for 100 steps. Run for 300 steps.

Oh I lost count while walking. Oh better start from one again NO STOP IT YOU ARE NEARLY THERE.

*ignores crunching knee*

If one more spectator tells me the finish is “just around the corner” I will fucking make them carry me there. Encouraging bastards.

OH GOOD RAIN. At least that washes the gel off my leggings. Looked like dried jizz.

Mile 25.5 – FURTHER DESPERATION

OH GOD. IS IT DONE YET. FINISHING CHUTE WHERE ARE YOU. LOOK AT ALL THOSE PRICKS WALKING TOWARDS ME WITH MEDALS AND FOIL BLANKETS. I HATE MY LIFE. THIS WAS A TERRIBLE PLAN. WHY AM I ON MY
OWN. I AM THE SLOWEST FINISHER EVER.

Mile 26.2 – Sheer Unadulterated Joy

THERES THE CHUTE. SPRINT. SPRINT!!!!!! Ok don’t sprint. Just jog. Don’t look anywhere but the finish line.

Why am I crying? Oh it’s just my body’s reaction to making it do this FUCKING STUPID THING.

What feels like hours later but is actually only 5 minutes….

ITS DONE. HOLY SHITE I DID IT. Beer. I need beer. Where’s my mum? Where’s my medal? Is that beer? I can’t feel my face. I need to put joggers on. I can’t bend down. Oh fuck I hurt.

I did say it was honest…..

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