My First Marathon

Background

On May 24, 2026 I took part in the Tamarack Homes International Marathon, a sanctioned 42.2 km race that serves as qualifier for higher-level events, as part of my preparation for the Ottawa Ironman Triathlon. Any experience as challenging as a marathon will teach a person about who they are, and I fully expected to emerge afterwards as a different person; I may also have misplaced my orthotics the day before the race, requiring some further sole searching.

As preparation, I started running seriously in September 2025, doing one long run and two to three short runs per week. The long runs started out at 10 km, and by April 2026 had grown to the 34-36 km range. Short runs remained at 10 km.

Arrival

I arrived at the starting line near Ottawa City Hall around 7:00 am on race day. Runners were divided by projected finish time into starting corrals, with the fastest corrals going first. My purple corral was for runners intending to finish in 4:25 (that’s 4 hours, 25 minutes) to 4:54. My target pace was a deliberately ambitious 6 min/km, which would have yielded a finishing time of just over 4:13. I had a conservative goal of finishing sub-4:30, and a more ambitious goal of sub-4:20, the latter allowing myself some buffer time over my target pace but still getting a leg up on my corral.

Each corral had a number of pace runners holding signs with projected finish time, so a runner wanting to finish in e.g. 3:55 would follow the pace runner holding the 3:55 sign. This would turn out to be very relevant to my race, as described later.

Standing in the purple corral waiting for our turn, I was focused on getting into the zone and repeatedly touched my late grandfather’s tie clip attached to my belt for inspiration. I also knew beforehand there would be friends and colleagues either running the race or cheering as spectators, and made it a point to look out for them.  We gradually approached the start line, and just before launching I extended my hand to the stranger beside me and wished him a good race.

The marathon: A step by step rundown

Kilometers 1 to 20

It is important to get off on the right foot, so I set out nice and relaxed, and for the first few kilometers ran alongside the same general group of people. I have a bad habit of running ahead of my target pace during this stage, and had to repeatedly remind myself to slow down. We ran through downtown Ottawa, past Parliament Hill and towards the west.

We crossed the bridge into Gatineau, and around kilometer 12 I caught up to a pack led by the 4:20 pace runner (since this group started earlier than me, by the time of me catching up I had been running at a faster pace than that of a 4:20 finishing time), intending to stick with them possibly for the remainder of the race. During this section I encountered a couple of work colleagues cheering me from the sidelines. From there we exited Gatineau and headed back into Ottawa.

By kilometer 19 I changed my plan, deciding to take a risk and run ahead of the 4:20 group as the pace was slower than my 6 min/km target, all while ensuring to stay in “easy” run mode.

Kilometers 21 to 32

As the latter leg of the marathon began, my focus became maintaining my current pace for as long as possible. I still felt good, and things were on track. Now in the northeast, we ran through the Rideau Hall grounds.

Around kilometer 25, heading back into downtown, my legs started to feel sore but not so much that I felt the need to slow down or stop. In my (admittedly limited) experience, there comes a point when the run shifts from a physical task to a mental one, where one’s body is still capable but the mind suddenly becomes the limiting factor. This usually happens to me anywhere between 24 and 30 km into a run, but with training this physical-to-mental shift can be delayed further into the run. As such, on race day I was able to keep my pace through this section without needing to tap into willpower.

Kilometers 33 to 40

We headed south towards Hog’s Back. Around kilometer 33 I passed a friend going the other way (hi Alex) and we slapped hands. By this point the aforementioned mental part of the race began kicking in, and from experience, my ability to push through this phase can determine whether my goal goes from a shoe-in to an also-ran. Being in a race setting surrounded by other runners helped me to will myself to keep running despite my legs feeling increasingly heavy.

From then on my pace started dropping noticeably despite my best efforts and by kilometer 36, increasingly desperate but unable to find a higher gear, I became resigned to fading until the finish line. Around kilometer 38, after rounding Dow’s Lake and entering the final straightaway, the 4:20 pace runner caught up to me, by this point running by himself. Just like 26 km and over two and a half hours earlier, I made it a point to stick with him till the end, somehow increasing my pace beyond what felt sane and forcing myself to run shoulder to shoulder with him. He gave me a few encouraging comments, and I was too dialed in and exhausted to respond with anything more than a head nod, but importantly I was back in the running for my target time.

The final stretch

For the last two kilometers and change there were throngs of spectators lining the road, and runners became increasingly bunched as we approached the end. By this point I was monumentally struggling to keep up with the pace runner, so I put my hand on his shoulder and said “I need you right now.” He responded by putting his arm around my shoulder and together we did a sprint (or at least what felt like one) to the finish line with arms draped on each other. We then shared a hug and handshake and parted ways.

In it for the long run

I finished in a time of 4 hours, 17 minutes and 43 seconds, easily beating the more ambitious of my two targets (recall that even though I crossed the finish line with the 4:20 pace runner, he started before me, hence my faster time). While that may sound like a long time, and it is, there is that expression that escapes me right now about how certain processes are long and slow, not short and fast.

I managed to keep a running pace for the entire race, which is relevant since only two months before race day I still had doubts about running a marathon non-stop. And it is also worth noting that as recently as last fall I had never run more than 10 km, and within nine months have gone from novice runner to marathon finisher. Each of these feats is an incremental learning experience on my path to the Ironman Triathlon.

Lessons learned

No one (really, no one) does it alone

There were so many people who contributed to this accomplishment. First and foremost are the countless volunteers who made it all happen, handing out drinks, sweeping up paper cups with rakes and hockey sticks, directing runners, providing first aid, providing pacing, and more. And not to mention behind the scenes work that was not apparent to us runners on race day but equally important for a well-functioning event.

Next are all the awesome supporters cheering from the sidelines. Whether it is someone I know cheering my name or a stranger holding out their hand for me to slap, or holding a “Tap here for power” sign, completing something as grueling as a marathon would not be possible without spectator support. As a footnote, for someone coming from the cycling world, I learned that running events allow for more physical interaction between the athletes and spectators.

Related to the previous group are all the people who supported me from the moment I decided to run a marathon, and who believed in me despite my lack of running experience. This is their accomplishment as much as it is mine.

And of course there are the people from our immediate social circle who help with race day logistics, such as holding onto one’s items during the race. Thanks Pei for your help.

Inspiration can come from the unlikeliest sources

Leading up to the race I had an entire plan about what to do or think when needing to finish strong but feeling like there was nothing left to give, whether playing certain music in my head, rubbing my grandfather’s tie clip, or jogging my memory about previous experiences of pushing through pain. And yet on race day, the biggest single inspiration when I needed it most came from an unexpected source: the aforementioned pace runner simply doing his job. Seeing other runners pass me in the final kilometers had little effect, but the pace runner passing me (while running at a pace I knew was within my physical capabilities) was a tangible sign of the risk of missing the target I had worked so hard for. This gave me an all-important and to that point elusive spring in my step to the finish line.

I realized after the fact that, including my years of competitive rowing from 2008 to 2013 in Edmonton, those last four kilometers of my first marathon were the first time I truly broke through the mental barrier that always prevented me from finishing strong in a competitive race setting. And it was all thanks to a random pace runner whose name I do not even know.

Next steps (figurative ones, thankfully)

On June 6 and 7 I will participate in the Rideau Lakes Cycle Tour, the round trip bicycle ride from Ottawa to Kingston, so be sure to stay tuned for more updates.

Observant readers may have noticed a number of marathon-related puns throughout this post. You could call them… a running joke.