"London Marathon 2025: Getting in Shape Again for the Ultimate Running Challenge!"

So, Day 35 of the London Marathon 2025 training plan was a rest day, and it certainly had its moments! It wasn’t exactly the relaxing, feet-up kind of day I might have hoped for, but it was, at the very least, a day. A Hospital Adventure (or: The Art of Waiting) The morning kicked off with a trip to the hospital for Emilia’s orthodontist appointment. If you’ve ever had the joy of waiting in a hospital, you’ll know that time moves at a speed entirely unrelated to the rest of the universe—less a ticking clock and more a slowly leaking hourglass. Three hours in the waiting room, punctuated by some brisk corridor navigation for dental x-rays, felt like an endurance event in itself. There’s something uniquely draining about the quiet, oppressive hum of a hospital waiting area, where time stretches so thin you could iron it. Eventually, we made our escape, dashing back to Sittingbourne to return Emilia to school before I promptly turned around and headed straight back to Rochester for work. ...

A Fine Line Between Pushing and Listening Day 34 of London Marathon 2025 training, and after yesterday’s tough session, today’s run always had the potential to be more of a battle than a breeze. I set out once again from The Math School, this time crossing the M2 Medway Bridge and venturing into Strood. On paper, it was meant to be a base run—steady, controlled, nothing too strenuous. In reality, my legs were voicing a rather strong opinion about the previous day’s exertions. The trouble with training is that improvement often masquerades as exhaustion, and knowing whether to push on or ease up requires the wisdom of a seasoned athlete or at least the common sense not to ignore your own knees when they start issuing threats. Twenty minutes in, I was already feeling the strain, making today’s run less about speed and more about persistence. No Turning Back Now Thankfully, my route choice was inspired—or at least, effectively limiting. Once I’d started, there was no real option but to co...

A Test of Speed and Sanity As promised, today’s training took a significant upward turn—both in effort and in sheer stubbornness. It was time to shake things up with an anaerobic-focused run, stretching to a full hour. Nothing says ‘commitment’ like voluntarily gasping for breath before sunrise. After a thorough warm-up, I launched into the main event: seven one-minute intervals at a blistering 4:30 min/km pace. For those unfamiliar with this kind of suffering, that’s about a minute per kilometre faster than my usual 10k pace—so, essentially, the sort of speed that makes your legs file an official complaint with the management. Recovery periods of three minutes in between allowed my heart rate to return to something vaguely human while lactic acid was politely escorted from my muscles. This high-speed torture is proving invaluable for improving my top-end pace, even if it occasionally makes me reconsider all my life choices. Into the Darkness, Literally With the run stretching longer, ...

After yesterday's much-needed rest day, which ended with a hot bath so infused with Epsom salts it could have doubled as a witches' brew, I laced up my trainers this morning for a 33-minute base run. The route was my usual: a trot down the hill followed by the long, steady climb back up. The weather, however, decided to remind me that marathon training is not for the faint-hearted. As I started my run, a drizzle began, quickly escalating into rain that could only be described as "enthusiastic." If there’s one thing rain teaches you, it’s humility—or at least how to distinguish between a puddle and what suspiciously resembles a small lake. Yet, despite the soggy socks and a wind that whispered unkind words in my ear, I felt surprisingly good. My legs and back, the usual suspects when it comes to post-run grumbles, seemed appeased, possibly thanks to the Epsom salt soak. I can’t say I fully believe in their magical properties, but whatever the reason, I’m not about to a...

After the triumphs and trials of yesterday's Canterbury 10-mile race, Day 31 of my London Marathon 2025 training plan was a much-needed rest day. Let me tell you, nothing quite underscores the importance of rest like the combination of a hill-filled race, an unholy alliance of chicken wings and crisps, and a late-night NFL playoff marathon. Aches, Pains, and a Dash of Regret Waking up today, my lower back and hamstrings felt like they'd been in an unsanctioned tug-of-war match. Oddly enough, my neck decided to get in on the action, gifting me a headache or two throughout the day. It’s funny how the body likes to communicate its displeasure after a race – sometimes with subtle whispers, and other times with the grace of a gong crash at 3 a.m. Perhaps my enthusiastic consumption of spicy chicken wings wasn’t the recovery food of champions, but if you are going to eat spicy wings, you have to be prepared to take the consequences. Rest, Recovery, and Community Connections Rest days...

The Morning Rush Sunday races always mean an early start, and today was no exception. Arriving in Canterbury at 8 am, I was immediately thrust into the trifecta of pre-race rituals: parking, collecting my race number, and navigating the inevitable toilet queue—an experience that can feel like an endurance event of its own. It was a bitterly cold morning, hovering around 2 degrees. Dressing appropriately for a race in such conditions is always a gamble: the first few minutes will chill you to your core, but once you’re moving, layers can become an unnecessary burden. After a quick, if not particularly effective, warm-up, I bumped into a friend, Ben Holliday, whose detailed analysis of local cricket diverted my attention from my frozen fingertips. Perhaps distraction really is the greatest warmth. The Race With over 1,200 participants, the start line was a jostling crowd, all shuffling for position like biscuits in a tin. The initial bunching, while slightly frustrating, provided some re...

Today, I found myself walking the delicate tightrope between gentle movement and necessary rest, all while gearing up for tomorrow’s Canterbury 10-mile race. It’s almost like a dress rehearsal, only with more mud and fewer costumes. A Morning of Family Triumph The day began in a rather muddy field—one of those places where shoes go to become permanent residents of the swamp. I was there to watch Polly at her football training. She’s an absolute force, channelling the determination of someone five times her age, while still managing to make a lot of adorable mistakes. But her commitment shone through, and she was named one of the players of the week! The trophy she received was practically glowing with pride. Of course, it could have been the sunlight reflecting off her beaming face, but who’s counting? It’s moments like these that remind me why the little victories in life are just as sweet as the big ones. A Short Base Run After the morning’s excitement, I laced up my running shoes an...

 Another rest day has arrived, and it feels well-earned. It's a good time to look back at this week's training and see what progress has been made. It’s also an opportunity to appreciate the importance of rest, especially when a big weekend is on the horizon. I started my rest day with a delicious stack of pancakes this morning—the perfect way to kick off a day of recovery. Day 24: Recovery Run and Reflection Monday involved a 30-minute recovery run after a lovely weekend. This day saw a return to work and the reality of balancing training and the demands of daily life. The route started downhill along Maidstone Road but included a gentle incline back up towards Borstal. It was a reminder of how time seems to disappear when you are trying to cram a lot into the day. Day 25: Tempo Run and the Art of Recovery Tuesday was all about the art of the tempo run, with four five-minute efforts aiming to keep my heart rate around 160 bpm. Between each effort, there was a two-minute recove...

Another morning, another recovery run and another day closer to the London Marathon 2025. It’s been six days in a row now that I’ve been hitting the pavements and my body is certainly letting me know about it. The Recovery Run Today’s recovery run was a gentle one, taking me down Maidstone Road, through the historic Vines, and then back up the hill. The route was peaceful, and I kept the pace light—a session designed to soothe rather than strain. It’s during these moments that I feel almost serene, like I’m gliding (albeit with all the grace of a slightly arthritic duck). However, the true challenge doesn’t lie in the run itself but in the hours that follow. That’s when the aches set in—a reminder that marathon training isn’t all runner’s highs and endorphin-fueled euphoria. The Balancing Act Marathon training is a dance between pushing your body to grow stronger and giving it time to recover. The temptation to skip rest days is strong, but that’s a path paved with injury. Every traini...

A Whirlwind Day Today’s single word is "busy." Work has been a cacophony of tasks and deadlines, leaving little room to breathe. Amid the hustle and bustle, the only peace I found—and perhaps even a glimmer of serenity—was during my 32-minute recovery run this morning. Yes, it was cold, the sort of chill that makes even the clouds pull up their blankets, but I quickly settled into a steady rhythm. There’s something about running in the early hours that makes the world feel like it’s holding its breath—even if the runner isn’t. Literary Companionship My companion for this run was none other than the voice of Stephen Fry, narrating the complete works of Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes . With over 70 hours of tales to unravel, I suspect Holmes and Watson will see me through the entirety of this marathon training plan. Listening to something engaging has always been part of my running routine, and for years I’ve relied on bone-conducting headphones. These ingenious devic...

The Art of the Tempo Run Today’s training called for a tempo run—a session I hadn’t done in a while. After a 10-minute warm-up, I embarked on four five-minute efforts aiming to keep my heart rate around 160 bpm. On paper, this isn’t meant to be gruelling, but reality, as always, had other ideas. Downhill sections felt like a chaotic waltz with gravity, while uphill sections tested my resolve (and my lungs). Between each effort, I had a two-minute recovery, where I did something that seems at odds with the notion of a “run”: I walked. Yes, walking—though not the dignified, hat-tipping variety, but the quick “please-heart-rate-drop” kind. After the walk, I transitioned to a slow jog, allowing my recovery periods to work their magic. Proper recovery isn’t just a luxury; it’s the alchemy that turns effort into improvement. The Science of Pushing Limits Tempo runs are one of the unsung heroes of marathon training. They’re not glamorous, but they quietly help increase your lactate threshold,...

It’s Day 24 of my London Marathon 2025 training, and after a lovely weekend, reality has come knocking. Work is back, the training plan is unforgiving, and today’s run was a gentle 30-minute recovery session to shake off the cobwebs. The Route: A Tale of Two Gradients Today’s run started downhill along Maidstone Road – a route so kind to weary legs that it almost feels like it’s apologising. But, as all good things must come to an end, the gentle incline back up towards Borstal reminded me that gravity is not just a suggestion. I finished with a stretch along The Math School, my legs sending a pointed memo about the perils of being complacent. The Time Thief Strikes Again With the increased mileage and the demands of work, time seems to be disappearing faster than a plate of snacks at a party. It’s a strange thing, really: the more you try to cram into a day, the more elusive those hours become, as if they’ve learned the fine art of dodging responsibility. To combat this temporal trick...

A Late Start and a Leisurely Run Yesterday’s late-night NFL playoff game (Chiefs vs. Texans – not exactly the stuff of legends) allowed for a much-needed lie-in this morning. There’s something delightful about waking up naturally, without the intrusive blare of an alarm clock. By late morning, I was laced up and ready to take on a 40-minute base run towards Teynham. Experimenting with Layers In the spirit of trying new things, I decided to tweak my layering strategy today. A seasoned runner recently advised me to consider wearing one less layer than usual. The rationale? Excessive layers can weigh you down and hinder sweat evaporation. At first, the chill bit at my skin, but as I settled into my stride, the cold melted into insignificance—much like the promises of “just one drink” on an impromptu night out. While I can’t claim any miraculous improvement in performance over the short 40-minute run, it did feel like a step in the right direction. Finding the sweet spot between freezing a...

After yesterday’s much-needed rest day, it was back to the grind today! But before I could lace up my running shoes, Polly had her usual football practice this morning, followed by Emilia’s Kent Schools Cross Country race. I’m so proud of her; she did amazingly well and even managed a sprint finish! Watching her determination was a great reminder that sometimes the hardest part is simply putting one foot in front of the other—preferably at speed. The Route: Familiar Footing With the kids’ activities sorted, it was finally time for my run. I headed out along Swale Way, a route I know quite well, towards the Kemsley Paper Mill. It’s not the most scenic path—unless, of course, you have a particular fondness for industrial architecture—but it’s flat, straight, and perfect for today’s workout. Running here always brings a mix of nostalgia and focus; it’s a stretch of road where I’ve endured the start of many tough slogs, each memory woven into the rhythm of my strides. The Workout: Short an...

Recognising the Need for Rest After a grueling 14-hour workday yesterday, topped off with a threshold run that could humble even the most determined of hearts, the necessity for rest announced itself with the subtlety of a brass band. My alarm—proved to be a loyal servant but a poor negotiator. Meaning I awoke at 6am rather than 5:15am. This morning's intended pre-work run met its nemesis in the form of a steadfast and immovable body. The Swap: Flexibility in Training As the day unfolded, I toyed with the idea of salvaging an evening run. A quick consultation with my training schedule, however, revealed tomorrow as a designated rest day. It felt prudent to invoke the rarely acknowledged "executive decision clause" of marathon preparation: swapping rest days. It’s a bit like rearranging deck chairs on a ship, only this time it’s entirely sensible and significantly less nautical. The Art of Rest By Friday, fatigue has a tendency to set up shop in the corners of the week, an...

Another day, another threshold run, and another opportunity to test my limits. Unfortunately, today's run felt more like a test of my patience than my physical abilities. The Reluctant Run I dragged myself out to the familiar streets of Rochester, my Garmin Forerunner 955 helpfully reminding me of the daunting task ahead: one 16-minute effort at a heart rate of around 170 bpm. I knew it would be tough, especially before what I anticipated would be a long day at work, but I was determined to give it my all. However, my legs seemed to have a different plan entirely. No matter how hard I tried, they simply refused to cooperate. I pushed and pushed, but my heart rate stubbornly refused to budge much beyond its usual easy-run tempo. I managed a few fleeting moments in the desired range—maybe three minutes in total—but the rest of the 16 minutes felt like an uphill battle fought in slow motion. Somewhere out there, a snail was probably laughing at my expense. Lessons from a Lethargic Bod...

A Balmy Start A welcome change greeted me this morning as I set out for my run: a positively balmy 9 degrees! It felt almost tropical compared to the sub-zero temperatures I've been battling recently. My Garmin Forerunner 955 (which, let’s be honest, acts more like a drill sergeant than a fitness tracker) suggested a 47-minute base run. Now, 47 minutes is a bit of an oddity in my running world. My usual routes tend to be either a quick 30-35 minute jaunt or a full-blown hour-long adventure. As if Garmin had whimsically decided to throw in a curveball, I found myself plotting a route that didn't quite exist in my mental map. The Treasure Hunt This uncharted territory of 47 minutes meant some improvisation was needed. I decided to explore some new streets around Rochester, taking in the sights along the Esplanade and the historic Rochester High Street. Of course, my unfamiliarity with the area led me to a couple of dead ends, turning my planned route into a bit of an impromptu tr...

A few days have passed since my last threshold run, and today felt like the perfect opportunity to tackle it again. As I woke up, my Garmin Forerunner 955 seemed to agree, cheerily suggesting a threshold workout for the day. There’s something slightly unnerving about being bossed around by a wristwatch, but who am I to argue with technology? The Chase is On With my plan set, I hit the streets of Rochester, bracing myself for two 8-minute efforts at a high heart rate. It’s the kind of pace where your body feels like it’s negotiating with your brain, and the conversation isn’t polite. The first interval had me tearing through the streets like I was being chased by an exceptionally persistent tiger—or perhaps just a particularly annoyed tabby. Although the temperature wasn’t as frigid as in recent days, the increased pace meant the cold bit into my face with the tenacity of a terrier on a postman’s trousers. By the end of the interval, I had resorted to covering up, transforming into what...

The Joys of Recovery Runs Day 17 of my London Marathon 2025 training, and after yesterday's longer run, a shorter recovery run was just what the coach ordered. Thanks to a wisely early bedtime—prompted by sheer exhaustion—waking at 5:15 am wasn’t the Herculean feat it usually feels like. The 24-minute route took me from The Math School, looping around Borstal and back. My legs felt as though they’d temporarily turned to lead, but recovery runs are as much about consistency as they are about distance. The great news? My lower back is now proving to be the unsung hero of this training—handling the increased mileage with all the poise of a duck in water. A Runner's Appetite Awakens With the miles adding up, so too is my appetite. A marathon training diet demands balance, but let’s be honest—balancing hunger with healthy choices is a bit like herding cats. Thankfully, I’ve discovered a trusty ally in the form of Huel. Imagine a protein shake that went to university and got a degree...

Day 16 of my London Marathon 2025 training, and Sunday brought the usual long run, with a slight increase in duration to 1 hour and 12 minutes. Given it was still extremely cold (-4 degrees), it felt even longer! However, the sun was shining in the sky and there was little wind, so it made for a pleasant run. Into the Countryside My route today took me out from home, on the outskirts of Sittingbourne, into the neighbouring countryside. I crossed some frozen paths, a reminder that winter running requires extra caution. These paths, with their subtle shimmer of ice, seemed to say, "Tread carefully, or you might end up testing the ground’s sense of humour." Still, the crisp air and the golden light of the morning made the journey worthwhile. Heading towards the village of Rodmersham, I encountered a series of gently sloping roads and frosty hedgerows. Sadly, it wasn’t time to stop at the pub (perhaps that's a future reward for post-run recovery), so I turned around and made ...

A Morning Without the Cockerel’s Call A welcome lie-in graced Day 15 of my London Marathon 2025 training. The luxury of waking up at 8 am on a Saturday—rather than the usual pre-dawn scramble—felt like a rare indulgence. Perhaps it was the marathon gods’ way of reminding me that balance is as crucial as discipline. There’s a unique comfort in having time to sip your morning coffee whilst assessing the frost outside, instead of gulping it down like a hurried apology. The Great Easthall No-Go By the time I ventured out at 11 am, the icy grip of winter had not loosened its hold. The nearby Great Easthall pond, usually a picture of serene ripples, was a frozen expanse—a perfect metaphor for my reluctance to leave the warmth of home. Any thoughts of testing my winter courage on the ice were swiftly vetoed. If my training plan suggested a base run, it clearly did not include a re-enactment of a 19th-century polar expedition. A Steady Pace in the Chill The training plan’s wisdom prevailed, an...

Coldest Run in Years One word sums up today’s training: cold . At a brisk -3 degrees, this was officially the chilliest run I've tackled in years. The only comparable experience? Freezing my proverbial toes off as an assistant referee at Bishop’s Stortford on an equally frosty day a mumner of years ago. Back then, I was more concerned about offside traps than icy pavements, but the temperature left the same lasting impression—mainly on my extremities. Today, however, the focus wasn’t on flagging for fouls but on keeping upright while running. Every step was accompanied by the crunch of frost underfoot and the faint, treacherous shimmer of ice on the pavement. It was the kind of morning where you question the sanity of running outdoors but lace up anyway because the training plan doesn’t leave room for weather-based excuses. Dancing on Ice (Sort Of) The pavement this morning gleamed with that telltale sheen of danger, a reminder from nature that it doesn’t care for running schedules...

A Back That Knows When to Rest Day 13 of my London Marathon 2025 training and as planned, it was a rest day. My back, which muttered darkly during Day 12's run, seems much happier after some time off. A reminder, if I needed one, that sometimes the best way to move forward is to pause. An Alarm Clock’s Betrayal The day didn’t begin quite as I intended. My alarm—ever the traitor—decided not to do its job. Thankfully, Kelly’s alarm, set a full 30 minutes after mine was supposed to go off, saved the day. Waking up late is an effective way to discover just how well your morning routine is drilled into your muscle memory. My bag was already packed, my Huel breakfast and lunch waiting patiently in the fridge and my teaching materials prepared the night before. All that was left was a frantic dash to get ready, leaving me pondering whether alarm clocks are secretly unionised against early starts. A Calmer Evening and a Ride with Polly The chaos of the morning gave way to a much calmer eve...

The Challenge of a Sore Back Day 12 of my London Marathon 2025 training, and a new challenge has appeared: lower back pain. Being on the taller side, I’ve had my fair share of back twinges, but today the discomfort made itself known during my 30-minute base run. What started as a minor annoyance quickly escalated, turning the run into a balancing act between determination and common sense. Climbing Maidstone Road Hill My route today included Maidstone Road hill—a stretch that can make even the fittest runner question their life choices. With every step up the incline, my back pain seemed to double down, forcing me to dig deep just to keep moving. It was a reminder that even the simplest runs can demand more than expected. A Rest Day Comes at the Right Time Thankfully, the universe seems to have a sense of timing, as tomorrow’s training plan includes a rest day. The forecast of icy conditions feels like an extra nudge to take it easy. As much as I enjoy pushing through challenges, the c...