26.2 Miles Is Very Far, and Other Reflections 

However, as the miles wore on, the course began to reveal its true character. The euphoria started to wane, giving way to a grueling battle against physical and mental fatigue. 

In the midst of the physical demands of the marathon, two vital elements emerged as non-negotiables: water and energy gels. Hydration became my lifeline, with each water station offering a momentary respite and a chance to replenish my depleted reserves. Staying hydrated to combat the sun and the relentless miles was not an elective move, it was automatic.

Furthermore, energy gels became my best friends on this arduous journey. It is quite simple really, when you exercise for this long you deplete the energy that your body actually has. These gels became the secret weapon that kept me going, a lifeline to draw upon when fatigue threatened to overwhelm me.

Mile 16 was where things got uncomfortable. The end was still an impossible 10 miles out of sight, but I was starting to tire. This was where the race truly began for me. In the miles that followed. I remember overhearing a conversation between two other runners. 

"Let's get this b*stard." One said. 

"We've got it this time." The other responded. 

Ah, good.  I thought. They aren't talking about me.

Amidst the fierce mental and physical challenges, a menacing hint of adversity struck at mile 18. A nagging pain manifested in my ankle, causing worry to creep into my thoughts. The fear that this injury might derail my race was palpable. Yet, I pushed through the discomfort. With each stride, I willed the pain to subside, praying that my body would find a way to endure. Miraculously, my perseverance paid off, and the pain gradually alleviated, enabling me to continue.

The last five miles of the race were (somewhat predictably) the most challenging. Really though reader, I cannot stress this enough, they were properly nasty. 

Fatigue had truly arrived and made itself at home, so every step felt like a battle against my own limitations. My feet protested with each stride, throbbing in unison, reminding me that 26.2 miles is very far. The weariness in my body was accompanied by a breathlessness that seemed to intensify with every labored breath.

I was beginning to see more and more people drop out. Countless people lay or sat by the road, needing medical attention, and I couldn't help but empathise with their heartbreak.

As I pressed on, I couldn't help but notice a stream of runners overtaking me in moments where I slowed. It was a humbling experience, I was hobbling awkwardly and leaning on barriers to catch my breath, swearing to myself in waves of self-doubt. This doubt was in my own abilities, questioning if I had trained enough or that I had what it took. 

At mile 23 I spoke with another runner. This was someone who, like me, was battling their own demons and pushing through the pain. In our shared struggle, I found a newfound strength and determination. We exchanged encouraging words, acknowledging the difficulty of the moment but refusing to let it consume us entirely. We discussed the overwhelming fatigue, the soreness that seemed to seep into every fiber of our beings. ("Everything hurts", that is.) Despite the physical discomfort and the nagging doubts, we shared a mutual belief in our capabilities.

"We can do it." He said. 

"Aye man, we've got this." I replied. Though do note, dear reader, that I have removed some expletives here.

It was his first race as well, so it was validating to hear that he agreed about how tough it was. Ultimately we split after a mile or so, but this moment was one that stuck with me. I hope you finished and beat your dad's time, nameless marathon guy. 

I also note overhearing a conversation with an experienced marathon runner:

"It's all in your head, isn't it?" I heard. 

"Absolutely, as soon as you think that you can't, you're done." 

Well, I guess I should shelf that thought. I decided.

The Finish Line.

The approach to the finish line was a welcome one. The course brought me into Musselborough once more, but as a different person. 

The front road of the charming seaside town was filled with spectators, clapping and cheering us on. Final words of encouragement were shouted towards me in the final mile, and this was when they were needed most. I remember running into tunnel formed by barriers, lined with people standing elbow to elbow. I looked to see my own family standing just beside the official race photographer, and celebrated the moment I saw them. Look what I did guys!

With a burst of speed, I turned onto the homestretch and overtook about eight or nine people. Ha! beat you.

"Scott is looking fresh!" The race announcer called out over the tannoy. I was not fresh, this was a well crafted front, but thanks.

After crossing the line, a wave of euphoria washed over me while I celebrated the moment myself. The pain and exhaustion that had consumed my body and mind for hours was beaten; I had done it. The sense of accomplishment was immeasurable, surpassing any numerical value on a clock. It was a triumph of endurance, resilience, and the support that carried me through the darkest moments.

This race will forever hold a special place in my heart, it is a testament to the power of my own stubbornness. Finishing was moment where I demonstrated that I am not the sort of person who gives up, and I can overcome seemingly insurmountable challenges. It was, therefore, more than a race; it was a transformative experience that taught me the true depth of my capabilities. As I reflect on my time of 5 hours and 19 minutes, I realize that the clock is merely a representation of the journey, and the real victory lies in the unwavering determination to overcome obstacles, the relentless pursuit of personal goals, and the sheer joy of crossing the finish line.

Final Thoughts.

In the end, the 2023 Edinburgh Marathon was not just an event, but a defining moment in my life. It taught me that true strength lies not in the absence of struggle, but in our ability to rise above it. The pain, the doubts, and the physical toll were all integral parts of this transformative experience, shaping me into a stronger and more resilient individual. I emerged from the marathon with a profound sense of accomplishment, knowing that I had conquered one of the most challenging feats of my life.

Moving past this race and looking to the next one, I carry with me the memories of the grueling miles, the unwavering support, and the indescribable joy that accompanies achieving such a long-term goal. This marathon will forever serve as a reminder of the heights we can reach when we push beyond our comfort zones, harness the power of our inner strength, and embrace the journey with unwavering determination.

The recorded limits of my body have increased; I now know that my feet will carry me for at least for 26.2 miles if I put my mind to it. According to Google, Less than 1% of people do this in their lifetimes. I can tell people that I did this. More importantly though, I can tell myself.