Writing this from a world of pain. I shuffled to my scooter, drove to Blacklist Coffee and now I’m sat on two glutes that have been on fire for 24 hours.
Everything hurts.
My legs are wrecked, I’ve got blisters, my stomach still isn’t right and I’m so grateful our villa is all on one floor.
I’m also extremely pleased I did it.
Four weeks ago I wasn’t training for a half marathon. Yesterday I ran one.
I nearly missed the start thanks to my good friend, Bali belly.
This is not the inspirational race story opening I imagined.
I’ll spare you most of the details but I’d had Bali belly for most of the previous week and although I felt a lot better by race day, my stomach was definitely not back to normal.
Alarm was set for 4.30. Quick shower, chugged my homemade blend of electrolytes, creatine and caffeine. Two bananas and we’re good to go.
I stayed super close to the race start venue but I hadn’t planned for the distance from parking my scooter to the race line.
The parking was a good 1km from the start, which meant jogging through the car park because I was already cutting it close.
That little jog apparently gave my digestive system exactly the encouragement it had been waiting for all morning.
The race started from Bali United’s training ground and there was already a queue at the toilet. I had about ten minutes before my wave, so I had no choice but to ask everyone if I could push straight to the front.
Thankfully they let me.
I’ll spare you the remaining detail.
I made the start.
Barely.
The rush actually worked in my favour because I accidentally pushed myself much further forward than I probably would have started otherwise.
Not exactly textbook half marathon preparation.
Experience of a lifetime.
The race itself was incredible.
Whole villages were out supporting. Schools had kids lining the route. I think I averaged 15-20 high fives per km. People were shouting as we ran past. The atmosphere was genuinely unreal.
The course was also horrible.
Nearly 500 metres of elevation overall, with kilometres six to twelve basically one long climb.
Hot. Humid. Hilly.
Exactly what you’d expect from a half marathon in Bali.
And then around 12K, my stomach started again.
I ran into one of the toilets along the route, which was basically someone’s house that they’d volunteered for runners.
Someone was already in there.
In that moment I had to make a calculation.
They might be thirty seconds. They might also be five minutes.
I decided I couldn’t risk it.
So I started running again.
For roughly the final hour of the race I was simultaneously trying to run a half marathon and not well...you know.
An underrated endurance skill.
Experience of a lifetime.
The thing about yesterday is that I never really doubted I could finish.
I took the ticket around four weeks ago after a friend got injured.
My logic was basically: I’m fit, I run every week, I’ll be fine.
That is obviously not a training plan.
My normal Sunday run has been around 10K.
There was no specific half marathon block. No proper progression. No time spent conditioning my legs to 21.1K.
Then I spent the week before the race with Bali belly.
If you wrote down the list of reasons not to race, it would have looked fairly convincing.
And yet I did it.
That is the part I’m most pleased about.
Not because I think doing stupid things underprepared is something to celebrate.
Because it showed me what years of consistent general training have actually built.
I train a lot.
Strength. Hyrox. Running. Zone two. Intervals.
All of that work wasn’t done with a Bali half marathon in mind.
But it accumulated anyway.
And at some point your baseline improves.
Things that previously would have required a big preparation block become things your body is simply capable of doing.
That’s very satisfying to discover.
“The best proof that training compounds is when your body can suddenly do something you never specifically trained it to do.”
There was also something interesting about the distance itself.
I genuinely think chasing a 5K PB is harder.
Hear me out.
A fast 5K is twenty odd minutes of being insanely uncomfortable. It’s a world of pain in your legs and lungs and a huge portion spent redlining.
The half marathon felt different.
For large parts of it I was sitting around upper zone three or lower zone four and just moving. Actually enjoying the moment.
The difficulty came from the accumulation.
The hills, the heat and the distance.
And, in my particular case, the ongoing threat of a gastrointestinal disaster.
Mentally, I actually loved it.
It feels like a distance I’m naturally suited to.
Getting away with it isn’t a proper strategy.
Then I finished.
And my body immediately sent me the invoice.
My legs weren’t conditioned for that distance.
Blisters. Everything sore. Walking like I’ve aged 40 years overnight.
That’s the difference between being fit enough to complete something and actually being prepared for it.
Yesterday proved I can run a half marathon.
It did not prove I should continue turning up to them after three weeks of vague preparation.
If anything, it made me want to do the opposite.
Because now I’m curious.
What happens if I actually train for one?
A proper block.
More weekly mileage.
Long runs that gradually extend rather than jumping from 10k to 21.1k.
Training for a half rather than relying on Hyrox fitness and stubbornness.
Turning up healthy would probably help too.
I already think 1:45 is achievable eventually.
That might be optimistic.
But I thrive off of having targets.
“Being able to get away with being underprepared proves capability. It does not prove preparation doesn’t matter.”
That’s probably the biggest thing I’m taking from yesterday.
Confidence is useful.
There are plenty of things I’ve done because I’ve thought, I’ll figure it out.
That attitude has generally served me well.
But confidence should get you through the door.
It shouldn’t become an excuse not to prepare properly once you know you care about the result.
Yesterday I just wanted to finish and enjoy it.
Next time I’ll want a good time.
That's issue twenty.
Now I'm going to throw myself into a cold plunge multiple times .