When the Autumn Marathon Didn't Go to Plan

If your autumn marathon didn't go the way you'd pictured, this one's for you. Maybe you finished well off the time you'd trained for. Maybe you didn't finish at all. Either way, I suspect you're feeling a bit raw right now.

I get it. Ouch. It hurts.

I'm going to start with my own DNF, because it would feel a bit rich to tell you how to handle yours without owning up to mine first. Then we'll get into what I actually do with runners when a race goes wrong: how to recover, when (not) to sign up for the next one, and how to turn the disappointment into something useful.

The short version? A race that didn't go to plan isn't a bad race. It's information. And it can be fuel.

Brighton, and a cry just before halfway

Well, this is an uncomfortable one. The race that sticks out for me is the Brighton Marathon, back in 2011.

Very early on, maybe five miles in, I just thought: oh gosh, this is really difficult. This is really not going well. I was running slower than I had in training and it felt really hard. I was tired, heavy, and I was getting chills. Looking back, that was an electrolyte imbalance, plus getting my nutrition wrong. And it meant the wheels came off.

I remember seeing my parents just before halfway and having a cry. I stopped there. It was so unpleasant, and I couldn't imagine how I was going to run another 14 or 15 miles that day when it already felt impossible.

The day after (and a speeding ticket that never came)

Here's the bit that really stung. The next day I had to go and set up at the London Marathon Running Show, because I was working for adidas at the time.

It was awfully difficult to turn up. Part of me wanted to run away and hide. On the drive there I was convinced I'd picked up a speeding ticket, which just made everything worse. It never came through, or if it did, someone was smiling down on me and decided not to pile on.

In my head, it was meant to be a really nice week. I'd have done my marathon, and I'd be spending it with people before their marathon: getting them kitted out, selling them shoes, all of that. Instead I sat there sheepishly, dealing with the fact that I'd messed up, surrounded by friends and colleagues who'd been invested in how I got on. I felt really bad.

But I had to turn up. I had to own that it didn't go well. And, crucially, I had to not get carried away, either by booking another race or by deciding I needed to correct it instantly. I had to take it. Soak it up.

What it actually taught me

With a bit of distance, Brighton turned out to be a really valuable process. Though at the time, honestly, it was mostly licking my wounds.

It made me think properly about my nutrition. I got to see a nutritionist, and I started to understand electrolytes a bit more and how I sweat. It also made me look at my expectations and the pressure I'd been putting on myself.

And probably most importantly, it showed me I could survive messing up a race. It was possible to carry on. People didn't hate me. The world kept turning. I wasn't terrible or useless, or any of those horrible big shame words that turn up at times like this.

That's the bit I most want you to take from my story. Those words feel true in the moment. They aren't.

Let's define "bad"

I don't love calling a race "bad". So let's define the word.

The race itself didn't go to plan. It didn't go where you wanted. Sure. But does that make it bad?

Are we including all of your training in this block of work? I think you should, in which case it can't be bad, because you've done it. You've put that work in. "Bad" is such a reductive, simplistic word that it really doesn't capture the full experience. Life has got way more nuance than that, and so has your marathon.

There's no such thing as a "non-genuine" reason

Runners often want to sort their DNF into one of two boxes: a proper reason (heat, illness, injury) or a "not good enough" one (I went out too hard). I'd push back on that.

They're all genuine reasons. If you went out too hard, that's something in and of itself. It can be worked on and thought about, and it's actually a pretty interesting thing to dig into.

It depends on how hard you went out compared with your training. If you started at a realistic pace for you on the day, with a race plan you'd thought through and that had evidence behind it from training and other races, and you still couldn't hold it, then that suggests something else was going on.

Obviously, I'm not a doctor, and I'd never say "it was definitely this" or "it was definitely that". But that's how I start thinking about it.

Feel it first

When a runner comes to me after a race that's gone wrong, I start by asking them what happened. Then I let them talk it through, process it and think about it.

Over time I'll help them reframe it. But I'm not going to rush that. If they're angry or annoyed, I'm not going to tell them not to be, because I've been in exactly the same situation. It's about feeling the emotions that are there and letting them come through.

I don't want to teach you to suck eggs here - you're allowed to be annoyed. You're allowed to be angry. You might need to disconnect for a bit. Then you can come back into it.

Respect the recovery (even if you didn't finish)

This is where it gets a bit more nuanced, because it depends on what actually happened.

• If you finished, but it didn't go well: two weeks of very little to no running. I'd wait until week two for an easy run, probably on the Saturday. Gentle swimming, walking, maybe a massage, and some light cross-training are all fine.

• If you DNF'd: I still think you need a few days off just to decompress. After that you can start thinking about returning to training fairly quickly, because your muscles haven't taken the full impact of a marathon. But remember you've just tapered down, so you need to build back up again. It has to flow that way.

• If you stopped because you were ill or injured: whatever event you were doing, you're going to need time off to actually recover from the injury or illness. Don't assume you'll be training again quickly.

I know I'm talking a lot about marathons here. Other events are a bit different, but the principle stands. Even if you don't finish, you still need to give yourself a chance to recover.

Don't book the next race straight away

The urge to sign up for something else immediately is completely understandable. You want to put it right. I felt it after Brighton.

But when runners do it, they tend to carry the fatigue and the disappointment from one race into the next. Your body doesn't get the chance to settle, and you don't get the chance to learn from what happened.

Respect the recovery first. Then we can sit down and ask: right, what can we work towards?

Using it as fuel

This is my favourite part of the process. Instead of the disappointment being a problem, it becomes energy you can actually use.

In the first few weeks back, that often means not focusing on running at all. It's about asking: what are the other things I can do?

• Strength and conditioning: get into it more religiously and really pay attention to it.

• Nutrition: have another look at it. (Speaking from experience here.)

• Mobility and flexibility: a good time to give them proper attention.

• Running drills: build in a set of drills you'll start doing now. You can do them walking at first, then add them into your runs later.

It's using that energy on the things that aren't as fun as running, that don't come as easily or naturally, but are still really helpful. There's plenty of time for this. You don't have to fix everything in week one.

Be kind to yourself, and don't suffer alone

A lot of runners punish themselves after a race like this. I really wouldn't.

Comfort yourself instead. Eat something nice. Go out for a nice meal, have a date night with your partner, hang out with your kids. Whatever it is you want to do, do that. Take care of yourself, and give yourself some time and perspective.

And please don't be alone in it. This can be a really tough part of training and a really tough experience. Talk to someone.

The honest bit

I'd love to tell you I handled Brighton gracefully. I didn't. I cried at the side of the road, sat sheepishly at a running show the next day, and spent a while convinced I was useless. It still stings all these years on.

But it's also where a lot of what I now know about fuelling, electrolytes and pressure came from. I wouldn't have learnt it without that race. So I can't honestly call it bad either.

If your autumn marathon has left you feeling flat, give it time. Feel it, rest properly, and when you're ready, put that energy to work.

Want help working out what happened and building your next block properly? Drop me a line and we'll look at it together, then build a plan that gets you to your next start line fit, fresh and ready. [Book a coaching package →]