How I Survived (and Thrived) My First Half Marathon

Running a half marathon isn’t just a physical challenge—it’s an experience that tests your mind, your willpower and, occasionally, your sanity. When I decided to tackle 13.1 miles, I had no idea what I was truly signing up for. But looking back now, I can say the journey to the finish line was just as rewarding as crossing it.

Now, let me be clear: I wouldn’t have called myself a “serious” runner when I started. I’d done a few 10k races here and there, but that was the extent of my running background. Growing up, I’d watched my mum and stepdad run countless marathons, half marathons, and just about every race you can imagine. Their dedication to training—rain or shine—was inspiring to witness. At the time, I admired it from a safe distance, firmly on the spectator side of things.

But then, things changed. I got back into running when my mum was training for the Ards Half Marathon. We’d do hill sprints, interval training, and casual runs together. At first, I was just tagging along to stay active, but before I knew it, the thought crept in: What if I signed up for my own half marathon?

Why I Put Myself Through This

The idea wasn’t just about running—it was about proving something to myself. I wanted to see if I could get back into running, stick to a demanding training schedule, and follow through on something tough. There’s something really empowering about setting a big goal and then achieving it, even when doubt keeps whispering in your ear.

It became even more personal after my granny passed away in May. She meant the world to me, and I wanted to honour her memory in a way that felt meaningful. That’s when I decided to dedicate my run to raising funds for Marie Curie’s hospice in Belfast—a place that had been so important to her. Suddenly, this wasn’t just about me; it was about running for her and for all the people who would benefit from the support Marie Curie provides.

Training: The Real Grind Before the Glory

Here’s the thing about running a half marathon: you don’t just wake up one morning and smash out 13.1 miles (unless you’re some kind of superhero or completely unhinged). Training is where the real work happens. It took weeks of slow, steady progress—building mileage and convincing my brain that running could, in fact, be enjoyable.

When I started, even a three-mile run felt like a major achievement. But week by week, I chipped away at it. Five miles turned into six, six turned into eight, and suddenly, I was running distances I’d once thought impossible. Music became my secret weapon (indie playlists for the win), and I broke runs into mental checkpoints—just make it to that tree, then to the corner, and so on.

On the tough days, when my legs were tired, or I really didn’t feel like lacing up my trainers, I thought about my granny. I reminded myself why I was doing this. Knowing the fundraising would make a difference—and that she would have been so proud—pushed me to keep going, even when every muscle screamed to stop.

Race Day: From Anxiety to Adrenaline

Standing at the start line on race day, surrounded by a sea of runners, I couldn’t have felt more nervous. But as soon as I took those first few steps, something clicked. Everything I’d been training for came rushing back, and somehow, it all just worked.

The atmosphere was electric. The streets were lined with supporters cheering us on, and their energy was contagious. A special shoutout goes to my friends and family who came to cheer me on—knowing they were out there made a world of difference.

Crossing the finish line was emotional in every sense of the word. All the training, the hard days, and my “why” came flooding back in those final moments. I thought about my granny and how proud she’d be, and it hit me that this race wasn’t just about running—it was about doing something meaningful. And to top it all off, raising over £800 for Marie Curie made the whole experience even more special. To everyone who supported me along the way— from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Would I Do It Again?

Honestly? Yes. (Well, I kind of have to, since I’ve already signed myself up for the Belfast City Marathon!) Despite the sore muscles, the blisters, and the occasional moments of self-doubt, running a half marathon was one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever done. It pushed me out of my comfort zone and showed me just how much I’m capable of.

If you’re thinking about running a half marathon, here’s my advice: Go for it. Start small, stick with it, and don’t worry about being perfect. Whether you run, jog, or walk, crossing that finish line feels incredible.

Well, that’s probably enough about my half marathon adventure—it’s time for me to lace up again and start training for the Belfast City Marathon. No rest for the wicked (or the slightly over-ambitious)! 🏃🏻‍♀️