Zach's Guide to Running a Marathon

For many runners, completing a marathon is the ultimate goal. Once this is completed, you can say with confidence that you are part of that "elite" group, and this gives you the right to turn your nose up at other runners who don't exhibit the same amount of courage that you do.

Clearly I wanted to be part of this group. And two days ago, I joined it.

Here is my guide to any avid runners out there who have only dreamed of doing one. It is a little different than other guides out there, but I feel this is a guide that you can follow a bit more easily. It's time to make your dream a reality.

Step 1: Equipment

Shoes: Most guides will encourage you to go out and invest in a solid hundred and fifty dollar pair of shoes. But seriously, who has that kind of money these days?

My suggestion: Go into your basement and find a pair of runners that your uncle gave you two years ago because he didn't like them.

Clothing: Dryfit shirt, dryfit shorts, spandex underwear, non-cotton socks

My suggestion: A t-shirt your best friend brought back for you from Mexico in grade 7 with frogs on the front, and old pair of swim trunks, and your best pair of Christmas socks (red with reindeer design is generally the safest bet.)


Step 2: Training

In the majority of guides, you will be encouraged to start training a full year prior to race day. In case of a September marathon, this would mean starting in September of the year before. This isn't a good idea, because running is boring. Start thinking about starting to train in February or March. Don't actually get around to it until May or June. Others will try to give you a pretty strict schedule outlining when you should run, how far you should run, and how fast you should run. Be prepared to make time four or five times a week for this if you plan to follow this plan. For me, I don't have that kind of time. My solution: pick a Saturday morning every two or three weeks when you aren't up until three in the morning the night before, and go for a nice long run.

Once you get close to the day (maybe one month prior), start a new sport that has daily practices. This will allow you to be even busier and be way too tired to ever go on a long run. Yes, let's hear that sigh of relief. You are done with long runs. This means that for the last month of training, the only running you will be doing is whatever you happen to do in your leisure time.

Step 3: Preparing for race day

Start dreading race day about two or three weeks prior to race day. Tell yourself that it was a stupid idea, and that you haven't trained nearly enough, and your body, which gets injured enough on its own, will not be able to withstand the pressures of the race. Be grumpy all the time because you can't stand the idea of running for that period of time because it will be so completely boring. Basically just psyche yourself out until your confidence reaches a new low.

It's time to treat yourself. You've earned it with all this hardcore training. Buy yourself an overpriced pair of socks. There is one other thing you should buy. I can't stress what I am about to say enough. If you listen to nothing else, perk up your ears now. Seriously. Buy nipple guards.
Stop laughing. Your nipples are the most precious thing you own. Care for them. You may be an amateur on the subject of "nipple chaffage", but once you witness a man wearing a white shirt who looks like he was shot point blank smack dab on both nipples (imagine cookie-sized blood marks with blood trailing down to the bottom of the shirt), you will understand. I couldn't be more serious right now. It is literally the best purchase you will ever make in your entire life.

The night before your marathon, eat a giant plate of pasta with terrible free tomato sauce that makes you want to punch Aylmer in the nose while simultaneously smearing aforementioned sauce on the white walls.

Step 4: Race Day

4:30 am: It's wake up time. Preferably you went to bed around 11:30 so you got a fantastic five or so hours of sleep. Shower, eat, attempt to clear your bowels.

5:30 am: Make the trip to wherever you are running. Maybe grab a quick nappy-poo.

6:30 am: Arrive. Prep your mind, put on your shoes, get your iPod ready, etc. This is the time you should be deciding how fast you want to run your marathon. There will be "pace bunnies" at the starting line holding up signs with times on them. I suggest you pick a time that is way faster than is even remotely possible for you to finish in. This way, you can get really tired a quarter of the way in and not have as much energy for the rest of the race.

7:00 am: Go to start line, pretend to stretch to look cool. Try to find those really quick Kenyans and talk a bunch of smack to them about how you are going to cream them and they stand no chance (I was unsuccessful in completing this task).

7:30 am: Race begins

2km in: Remember how you tried to clear your bowels but couldn't? Well, your small intestine does, and at this point, it will remind you by giving you excruciating pain that makes you feel like you have a front appendix and it is about to explode. Don't worry, there are portapotties ahead. At the 8km mark. As in, keep running for a half hour while trying not to die.

8km: Portapotty. Use it. At this time, give up on following your pace bunny as he unfortunately will not be stopping for a bathroom break. What an inconsiderate rabbit.

At the first few water stations, take one water.

12km: Bump up liquid consumption to 1 water, and 1 gatorade.

13km: You hear many people talk about hitting a "wall", when their legs stop working, and they want nothing more than to quit now and be done with it. For most people, this happens around kilometre 30. Because of my superior training system, you will make it to the wall must faster.

15km: It is at this point when your knees should fail you, causing you to slow your pace even further.

21km: You've made it halfway! Not only do your knees ache, your muscles will start to spasm in places you didn't think imaginable. In places where you don't even have muscles. Confusion will ensue. Forget about running consistently. For the next 17k, you will be switching between running and walking as spasms occur.

25km: Congratulations! You can officially not move. Stumble to the sidelines and stretch it out. Start to feel even worse as 65 year old women with puffers run past you asking if you are alright. You've hit a new low. Look for a lady handing out pills out of a ziploc bag. Accept pills.

28km: The Advil has kicked in. Use this to your advantage and get some miles behind you. You should be taking double gatorades at each station by this point.

30km: Random friend time! An old friend who didn't know you were running this marathon will show up, boosting you spirits, and giving you fruit that you desperately need. They will join you for the next leg, running and walking with you, and will get cheered on by spectators despite the fact they are clearly not running, as they have a purse, no bib number, and are running in Crocs.

33km: Spirits are getting high! People are handing you random fruit all over the place. Since you've been walking a lot, and have sugar in your body, you have lots of energy, and are running like it's kilometre 1. People are impressed. I think the ladies are looking. Move on to three gatorades per station for the home stretch.

38km: 4 kilometres left. This is it. You are almost finished. Enough with the walking. You are going to run this one out.

40km: One more test of your will-power: take a wrong turn. Let's face it, you haven't faced enough today. You are getting delirious. You can no longer follow pylons. Go in the wrong direction with cars all around you until you turn around and see all the people you just passed running the other way.

42.2km: It's over. You've done it. You're exhausted, you're sore, but doggone it, you've finally made it. At this point, you can relax. That is, after the race officials make you walk another kilometre just to get water and food.

As this point, you will probably get lost. Where is the food? Why am I so cold? Why is no one directing me the right way? No worries. A helpful man will show up. PSYCHE! It's just a scientologist wanting to survey you about your mental health after the race. Answer a couple questions incoherently, and then excuse yourself because you are turning white and are about to faint. Ask science man where the food is. More like where the food was. Because it will all be gone. Marathon organizers seemingly only care about people who run quickly. So while there was juice, bananas, bagels, apples etc before, you are too slow, and do not deserve to eat. Aimlessly stumble around for another half hour till your running partner finishes. Then go get the best massage of your life. It's worth the extra 15 bucks.

Step 5: Aftermath

You've earned this. It's the best part. While your body is extremely sore, making it relatively impossible to climb stairs or stand up, your stomach is completely empty, and will continue to be no matter how much you eat. So just eat. And not the healthy stuff. Whatever you want. For a week or more. Get fat. Stop all exercise if possible. Start wearing sweatpants to school. Use "But I just ran a marathon!" as an excuse for anything and everything.

This has been my guide to running a marathon. If you follow my steps, your experience will be much more exciting. Instead of asking questions like "Will I be able to run it in less than 4 hours
?", and "When's the next marathon?", you will be asking questions like "Am I going to finish?", "How am I not dead yet?", and "Should I stop at Arby's sometime during the race?" I guarantee it.

I have done all I can. Now go. Spread your wings.

-Zach