Overthinker's guide to a half marathon
A very lengthy explanation of how I went from not running at all to running a half marathon in 10 weeks. In this sport, you can compensate for a lifelong lack of athleticism with detailed planning. For instance: don’t tell the people you run with about having race plans. If asked directly, just lie. You don’t want to be someone who makes running their entire personality.
How normal, well-adjusted people run a half marathon
Step 1: Register for half marathon.
Step 2: Follow a half marathon training plan — typically 8, 10, or 12 weeks long.
Step 3: Run half marathon.
How I ran my first half marathon
If the Black Friday discount hadn’t been so steep, I wouldn’t be here writing this.
In November 2022, I saw an ad on Instagram for a half marathon in my city four months away. I should not have been within the ad’s target audience. I didn’t like running and I had probably run about 30 miles in total all year, if that. At the time, I could probably (reluctantly) jog about 3-4 miles at once. However, my decision-making was muddied by 2 other factors:
I was 2 months into a self-inflicted challenge to walk 10,000 steps a day. It takes me over 90 minutes to walk 10,000 steps, and I realized I could hit this step count faster through running.
In the summer of 2022, I attended a social running group that described their pace as casual but didn’t feel all that casual to me, a non-runner. People had fancy watches that showed how fast they were running and shoes with thick soles and vibrant colors — a contrast to my dull $40 shoes, purchased in 2017 from a clearance page. We all started running and I had trouble keeping up. Eventually, I was so far behind that the whole group was well out of sight and someone retraced their steps to look for me. Though I appreciated their concern, I was also really embarrassed. One day, I vowed, I will secretly become much fitter and these people won’t know until about it until it’s already happened. Though that thought didn’t spark any immediate action, I do have a track record of very strange personal projects.
Apparently I will do a lot of things for content generation, so I signed up for the half marathon in March 2023. I told myself that with the price I paid after the Black Friday discount, it wouldn’t matter too much if I ended up not running the race in the end. Though I sincerely believed this to be a possible outcome at the start, I actually cannot recall the last time I spent money on something that I ultimately did not show up for and just forfeited. Pre-payments are a powerful incentive for me.
From the beginning, I had 2 primary goals for the half marathon:
1) Don’t get injured
2) Run the whole thing without walking
I read a few articles about preparing for a half marathon and made my own 10-week training plan on a spreadsheet:
Under this training plan, each week (except the first) consisted of 2 short runs and 1 long run that got progressively longer, peaking at 12 miles in Week 7. Excluding the half marathon itself (the 13-mile run in Week 10), my training plan totaled 141 practice miles, with Weeks 6 and 7 being the most strenuous at 20 miles each. This gave me 3 weeks to taper, which is when you scale back your training in the final weeks leading up to a race so that your body has time to rest and recover.
Though some plans suggest running 4 or 5 times a week, I thought that this was unrealistic for my schedule, abilities, and level of interest in running. I never ran more than 3 times a week, and my only purpose with these practice runs was to get comfortable running increasingly longer distances. A benefit of only running 3 times a week is that I almost never ran on consecutive days, which helped in preventing injuries. Right before I started training for my first half marathon, I read about the importance of running slowly, slow enough to hold a conversation. Since I wasn’t aiming for a specific finishing time, the majority of the 141 miles in training were completed on the treadmill at a speed of 12:00/mile (yes, I know this is not fast), and the remainder were done through the aforementioned social running group, which met every Sunday morning.
I also went to a specialty running store, had my feet scanned, and bought a pair of shoes that were recommended based on my results. After a lifetime of exclusively buying running shoes on sale, this was by far the most expensive pair I had ever owned. I rationalized this purchase by telling myself that I was running this half marathon to prove some people wrong, and getting injured as a result of wearing suboptimal shoes would compromise that mission.
Prior to this endeavor, I was very skeptical of people who spoke about running as if it were an act of heroism or bravery. Whenever I saw stories like these, I always privately thought: you created this problem for yourself. I promised myself to always maintain the perspective that what I was doing was a voluntary, unpaid activity. In spite of this, I slowly started to enjoy running more than I expected to and I began to actually feel excited about each upcoming run. I had long feared that I had no “real” hobbies outside of eating, sleeping, and complaining — I don’t really watch TV or movies, I don’t love board games, and I go through art museums quickly. It felt great to finally have something to talk about with new friends and colleagues that made me sound like a normal, reasonable, relatable person.
Though I had never considered before that running would be a good fit for me, I realized:
You have a lot of flexibility over when and where it happens; if you have access to a treadmill, you can run basically anytime and under all weather conditions
You don’t have to buy much or maintain bulky equipment
Running is a sport that rewards consistency
It’s a solo effort, and I dislike teamwork or being part of a team (there, I said it — sorry, employer); it’s much easier to manage yourself than to account for unpredictability within other people
Even as a beginner, you can use numerical data to review past runs and project future performance
Admittedly, I had also struggled with the idea of doing something I’m not good at, or doing something simply because I enjoy it. Growing up in Hong Kong, my mom discouraged nonacademic pursuits — if something wasn’t going to serve an ulterior purpose (specifically, to help me get into a better college), what was the point? Though I am trying to unlearn this way of thinking as an adult, it has been a work in progress. To my surprise, running turned out to be very healing in this regard. The knowledge that I will never be a professional runner grants me the clarity to just focus on being the best runner I can be given (a) my own starting point and (b) the effort I’m willing to put in, both of which vary greatly from person to person and that’s just how it is. Though I intellectually understood these concepts a long time ago, running helped me internalize it.
The paradox, of course, is that this mindset actually made me become a better runner. By simply showing up and completing each run, I got stronger.
My attendance at the weekly social running group improved drastically. I went from going once every few months to going every single Sunday. I decided not to tell the people in this group that I was training for a half marathon because I wanted to keep other people’s expectations of me nonexistent. In order to ensure that we were running exactly as much as I selfishly needed to, per my training plan, I volunteered to design and lead runs. This was something I had never done before. I put a lot of effort into creating these routes, hoping that the novelty would make people forget that running in the first place was very out of character for me. I led a green glass heart-themed run (but actually), a run to a Vietnamese coffee shop, a run to IKEA, and a 10-mile horse-themed run that spanned multiple equestrian statues in the city and finished with brunch in a building that used to be a stable (because horses, get it?).
While leading these group runs, I encountered a hiccup. This was my first time running regularly in a group and spending much time with runners, and I never considered that upcoming races in the spring season would be a popular topic when making small talk. I had planned on never talking about my half marathon, but foolishly didn’t anticipate that other people would do so. During my 10 weeks of training, several runners from the group asked me if I had any race plans. In a panic, I decided that the smartest approach was to just keep it consistent, and by that I mean that I just consistently lied to everyone. I would say no and quickly ask the other person about their upcoming race plans. I felt bad about this, especially as I started to develop new friendships in the running group, but I told myself that my lie wasn’t affecting anyone. Friends come and go, but achievement is forever.
Running with this group also served another purpose: figuring out what to wear in different temperatures and testing out different items of clothing while running outdoors. I wanted to make sure that whatever I wore to the half marathon was something I’d be comfortable in for the whole time. The idea of feeling overheated for over 2 hours was very unappealing. I learned that some runners bring old sweaters to races and then get rid of them near the starting line. This was not really an option for me because I clean out my closet fairly regularly and don’t have many sweaters to just randomly give up. One rule of thumb suggested dressing as if it was 10°C (18°F) warmer than it really was, and I found this to be solid advice. Based on my own wardrobe, I came up with the following reference chart for myself:
As I entered Week 5 and faced an 8-mile run, I looked into fueling, which is encouraged on long runs (and which I personally define as anything beyond 5-6 miles). I tried fueling with dried mango and fruit snacks once, and afterwards I switched to gels. Despite my initial preference for real food, gels were undeniably easier to consume. I returned to the same specialty running store and picked up packets of GU, enthralled by the myriad of flavors. By visiting a few different running stores and race expos, I was able to obtain at least one of every single commercially available flavor as of writing (17 total). Over time, I tried and rated each flavor, noting down scores for taste (out of 10) and flavor accuracy (also out of 10). The results, shown below, are sorted in descending order by just their taste scores because I think this is more pertinent information than the total scores. If a GU that tastes exactly as its name tastes bad, you still wouldn’t want to eat it.
(This is not sponsored by GU. I am just a random potato.)
Though GU might not be for everyone, it gets the job done for me and I must say that I found the majority of their flavors to be fine — 13 of the 17 flavors scored 7/10 or higher for taste. I noticed that the tastiest flavors (Espresso Love, Chocolate Outrage, and Campfire S’mores, all 9/10) all had a chocolate/coffee flavor profile. I’m pretty neutral about chocolate in real life, so it was interesting that these 3 flavors stood out nonetheless.
Tastefully Nude was so bad that it deserves a dishonorable mention. Seriously, don’t eat this.
I started consuming GU on my individual long runs (in general: a packet after 4 miles, and then another one every 3 miles after that) and saved the fruit snacks for conspicuous eating at the weekly running group. After all, only real runners eat gels, and I didn’t want them to get any ideas about me and my race plans.
In addition to training and being unnecessarily secretive about this race, I also temporarily stopped drinking and adopted a pescatarian diet. Though plenty of runners have booze and meat and run way faster than me, training for a race was a convenient reason to try out lifestyle changes I had been curious about. I would not have described myself as a big drinker, but going without alcohol for 100 days for the first time in adulthood made me aware that I used to drink a few days a week, without much consideration, and at basically every gathering. (The 17 days I spent in quarantine back in 2021 were alcohol-free because I couldn’t go anywhere, and that was already very notable to me at the time.) Now, I was going to parties, clubs, even a wedding — and sticking to water, lemonade, or mocktails. Not drinking in these settings turned out to be much less challenging than I expected, and I appreciated that training for a race inadvertently challenged some of my habits and assumptions.
The game plan
The 10 weeks of training for a half marathon flew by. The days started getting longer. I started training in mid-January, and my race was set for the end of March. I was really fortunate to make it through the whole schedule with no injuries. I attribute this to a combination of staying within my limits, being very disciplined about stretching before and after each run, as well as doing yoga and body weight exercises on non-running days. After completing 5 practice long runs that were 8+ miles (8, 10, 12, 10, and 8 — in that order) without too much difficulty, I was quite confident that I could run all 13 miles in the race without walking, thus fulfilling my original goals for this project.
So, of course, the mind naturally asks — what’s next?
When I first started, I had no expectations for my time because I didn’t know what was feasible for myself. As I got closer to the race, I calculated that if I ran at the 12:00/mile pace that I had been practicing throughout these 10 weeks, I would complete 13.1 miles in just over 2 hours and 37 minutes. After reading that people tend to run faster during a race, I decided to set a target of 2 hours and 30 minutes, averaging 11:27/mile. (As of 2021, the women’s world record in the half marathon is just over 1 hour and 4 minutes, averaging 4:53/mile.)
I printed out a copy of the course map and studied it to familiarize myself with the water stops and notable landmarks. Additionally, I learned that this race would have pacers — people who run races within specific times (2:00, 2:05, 2:10, etc.). Based on all this information, I came up with a race strategy for myself:
Having run most of my miles in practice on the treadmill, I didn’t have a great gauge of my own speed while running on the road. Though there are many watches and fitness trackers out there that display speed, I steadfastly refused to get one because I didn’t plan on running again after this race. Also, I didn’t like the idea of having yet another gadget to charge and manage. My plan was to try and follow the 2:30 pacer for at least the first 8 miles. I decided that if I was feeling good after that point, I could push further by myself. If I started right next to the 2:30 pacer, left them behind after 8 miles, and never saw them again for the remainder of the race, I would know (without a watch!) that I had beat my target.
Here are some additional notes that helped me as I got closer and closer to the big day:
A common saying for runners is “nothing new on race day” — no new running shoes, no new articles of clothing, no new foods
Instead of hoping to get an exceptional night of sleep just before the race, I went to bed at 10:00pm every night in the week leading up to the race
Determined to not use a portable toilet while waiting, I decided to not consume any water during the 90 minutes in between waking up and the start of the race. I carried a small bottle of water with me, and only took my first sips of the day after I started running (this worked for me because it was cold outside and my race began at 7:30am — obviously, I wouldn’t recommend this if you have a race that starts way later)
I scheduled my final practice run for 3 days before the race so that I had 2 full recovery days
To avoid last-minute jitters, I made a checklist of things to complete the day before the race, including:
Pick up bib at expo
Prepare race day breakfast
Charge earphones
Create a playlist and download it
Double-check the start time and set 2 different alarms
Re-read emails from the race organizer about rules and key information
Re-read my own game plan
Pack water, tissues, and 3 packets of GU (for 4, 7, and 10 miles into the run)
Prepare outfit
Pin bib on shirt (tip: attach the bib while actually wearing the shirt)
The night before the race, I met a friend for pasta, laid out 3 packets of GU (Birthday Cake, Tri-Berry, and Salted Caramel), and was asleep by 10:30pm.
3,000 words later, we’re finally racing
My half marathon fell on my half-birthday, which is a very normal thing to notice and be excited about when you’re 27 (and a half). Yes, this is why I packed a Birthday Cake-flavored GU. I got up at 6:00am and had my “runner’s breakfast” of overnight oats with a sliced banana, honey, and coconut flakes. The weather was great — about 7°C (45°F) and sunny. I put on leggings and a long-sleeve shirt. I was glad that the bib had already been attached onto my shirt and it was one less thing to fuss about.
I made my way to the starting line and stood right next to the 2:30 pacer. The national anthem played, and then we were off. It was exhilarating! I was surprised to see people walking and lining up for the bathroom less than a mile into the race. Clearly, they had not prepared a document outlining their race strategy.
I told the 2:30 pacer that I intended to stick with her for the first 8 miles because my plan said so. Over the next 90 minutes, she slowly realized how literal that statement was.
In addition to the start and finish lines, the chip timing system also recorded runners 5, 8, and 10 miles into the race. I had signed up for email notifications, and after 8 miles I got an email saying that we were on track to finish in 2:32, 2 minutes slower than my goal. I was disappointed, because I thought the 2:30 pacer had one job. These days, people cannot be trusted.
With that, I took off on my own. Ultimately, I finished in under 2:26 (2:25:53), which came out to 11:08/mile. I had negative splits, which is when you run the second half of a race faster than the first half. My average pace for the first 8 miles (with the pacer) was 11:36/mile, and I averaged 10:24/mile on my own for the remainder of the race. This was news to me after I saw my results online; I had never practiced running in the <10:30/mile range during my training and did not know that I could maintain this speed for 5 miles.
By starting conservatively and gradually increasing my speed, I overtook a lot of people towards the end.
Even though I had told myself not to care too deeply about this voluntary, unpaid activity, there were a lot of emotions when I finally made it to the finish line. Of course, I cared. This was something that I had worked on for 10 weeks, and running a half marathon was way beyond what I was capable of when I signed up. The satisfyingly successful execution of this challenge was a result of perfect adherence to my training plan, as well as the many factors I had learned to consider before a race. Many things in life don’t turn out as planned, but apparently this was not one of them.
Later that afternoon, I met up with people from the weekly social running group for happy hour. My secret was finally out. They were…surprised? amused? confused? indifferent? True friends would understand.
The day after the half marathon was miserable, and I couldn’t get anything done. Later, I learned that post-race blues are a phenomenon: after over 2 months of working towards something and accomplishing it, I suddenly had all this attention and energy that needed to be channeled elsewhere. But what? I felt embarrassed for being emotionally affected by a race when I didn’t even consider myself a runner. Whatever it is that runners do, I had only done those things out of curiosity and for research as an outsider. Right?