I went from 'couch to 5k' to running Manchester Marathon

My first memory of cross-country running in primary school still stings. I had skipped a lap and had to confess my record-breaking time was a con -  I had just wanted it to be over with.

In high school, my kit always conveniently went missing around 'bleep test' season and many of my PE lessons. It all just felt like punishment.

I enjoyed the gym when I reached my late teens and early 20s but I always considered those who run for fun, at the crack of dawn or even worse, on a Saturday morning, were just built different. 

A runner told me once it was just a case of putting one foot in front of the other. I thought they were simply insane. 

Get the latest news delivered straight to your inbox by signing up to The Oldham Times’ morning and evening newsletters as well as our breaking news alerts 

I dropped two dress sizes and more than two stone (Image: NQ)

Then I got my first sedentary job post-university working in an office in Oldham. My time was eaten up by traffic jams and working late.

I relied on fast, cheap and easy meals and it wasn't long until my clothes started to feel a little tight.

I started running on the treadmill after work. I didn't like it but I kept at it - until the pandemic threw a spanner in the works.

Not only was the gym closed, but I was taking even fewer steps shuffling from my bedroom to the living room of my flat.

The best part of running is the scenery and getting to know where the swans meet (Image: NQ)

I ended up moving out of the city and into a home surrounded by huge parks - handy for that 'one exercise a day'. Working from home and in my new green surroundings meant I had no excuse to skip a session.

I committed to the cause properly in summer 2021. I made up my own 'couch to 5k' plan which involved a mix of running and walking along the same route in the park, and every time I would extend my running intervals to imaginary checkpoints - run to the bin, the bench and then that big tree.

I saw the seasons change and started to love the outdoors (Image: NQ)

By December, I cut my 3km time from 49 minutes to 25 minutes and I could run past the bin, bench and tree in one stride.

The physical benefits were great, but it was the mental clarity that kept me going. We were enduring some seriously weird times - apocalyptic supermarkets, cancelled Christmases, ever-changing rules and tiers and 'next slide please'. Our loved ones had to stand and wave from the bottom of the garden while we only saw a glimpse of our neighbours banging pots and pans during the weekly 'clap for the NHS'.

Running went from punitive to putting a pause on all the noise.

A 'before' and 'after' running took a hold (Image: NQ)

It also gifted me with confidence. I went back to university and studied for a Master's in journalism part-time (and on Zoom), juggling my work and running commitments in between.

When the gyms opened, my 5km treadmill time became a game. I shaved the minutes down - from 40 to 36 minutes.

A year later in the summer of 2022, I had lost more than two stone, gone down two dress sizes and started my first journalism job here at The Oldham Times.

I loved the half marathon so much, I signed up to the full one less than 24 hours later (Image: NQ)

I kept up my 5k treadmill game casually. I read somewhere that an above-average female runner could complete the distance in 30 minutes or less, which gave me a new goal.

I got faster - 35 minutes in October, 34.47 in November, 34.20 in January. Then finally in May 2023, it happened: I hit my target in 28.09 minutes.

Despite never venturing past the 5km mark, I signed up for the Manchester Half Marathon on a bit of a whim, looking for my next goal to work towards.

Well, I had four months to up the ante and in that time, I learnt everything from the right nutrition and the best equipment to how to live with permanently blistered feet.

Getting my gait analysis done at Up and Running Oldham (Image: NQ)

My top recommendation here has to start with investing in proper running trainers.

I went to Up and Running Oldham and had my gait analysis done for free and walked away with my first pair of £130 running shoes plus an abundance of advice from the exceptionally helpful assistant. The trainers were also worth every penny as almost every run after was a new PB.

The store assistant also suggested another pair of shoes, fit for a marathon, like he knew I'd be back.

Meanwhile, my running plan consisted of three runs a week -  an 'easy' run, a tempo/interval run to build speed and a longer distance one for endurance which gradually increased in mileage every week.

A hydration vest and spots earphones turned out to be game changers (Image: NQ)

Then came a hydration vest, new sports earphones and various trials of different energy gels, caffeine chews and electrolytes. Fine-tuning it all became an obsession. Treating myself to a fancy bit of kit on payday became tradition.

I signed up to Park Run and beat my 5km PB in 26.22 minutes. Long run Sundays helped me build up from 10km through to 19km.

Running in social groups and signing up to Park Run made a huge difference (Image: NQ)

Then on half marathon day, October 15, I crossed the finish line in 1 hour 58 minutes.

The event organisers had designed several different medals to a theme of Manchester legends, like Emmaline Pankhurst and Noel Gallagher, but I was delighted to receive the Alan Turing medal, which reads: "I have such a stressful job that the only way I can get it out of my mind is by running hard." (Fitting!)

My Alan Turing medal at the Manchester Half (Image: NQ)

I had hit the dreaded 'runners wall' at mile eight and my family had to help me limp back home.

But then, in what I can only describe as a moment of madness in a post-run comedown, I signed up for the full Manchester Marathon 24 hours later.

I had six months to train and, in all honesty, it was gruelling compared to the half. Not least of all because of the sheer amount of mileage to bank every week, but because the clocks went back, the beautiful parks closed at dusk and I found myself running through perpetual darkness, torrential rain and almost a tornado in a bleak season which felt never-ending.

Joining a running club presented new possibilities such the opportunity to use a running track (Image: NQ)

My mum gifted me thermal gloves, neck warmers and compression socks for Christmas, which helped enormously.

But even so, the weather meant I often had to resort to the boring old treadmill.

To keep me motivated, I signed up to a few 'These Girls Run' events in Manchester before I settled in with Prestwich Athletic Club. The advice, support and knowledge of other runners helped me progress every week and keep me on track.

It also helped me cure my runner's imposter syndrome. I went through a brief period feeling like I'd fluked the half and was delusional to aim for 26 miles. 

I really questioned my life choices when I was soaked to the bone (Image: NQ)

Having a good natter and a cake with people who have been there, done that and probably worse, like an ultra on a hangover, can really break the monotony of hard plateauing training blocks - and challenge your own negative mindset about it all.

I also gained other skills - like being able to dodge cars and spot an extendable dog lead a mile off. Seasonal coughs and colds couldn't bypass what felt like my bulletproof immunity. I slept better and ate better; my eight hours a night was sacred and carbs made a welcome comeback as after years of demonising pasta, an insatiable appetite and 'carb loading' for long runs put it back on the menu.

My first pair of running shoes and my marathon 'wedges' (Image: NQ)

The mileage climbed weekly. Half marathons became more regular until I got to 32km. Finishing the marathon is great, but all these 'little' milestones in between are just as rewarding. I would come home in pain sometimes but feeling like I'd just learnt to fly - the runner's high can be so real.

Anyway, I bought those marathon trainers the Up and Running expert recommended to me in the January sales, and out of the box they came in March.

I learnt to love running in the cold - but the rain was not for me (Image: NQ)

As I tapered off the two weeks before the big day, I did one last 5km which was a personal best - 26.13 minutes.

Then it arrived, the Manchester Marathon on Sunday, April 14. 

I didn't have a time goal in mind, I just wanted to get to the finish line in one piece. Give or take a toe if needs be.

I repeated positive affirmations to myself, such as 'It's just eight park runs and a bit' and my family stationed at different parts on the route kept me going. The knowledge that my friends were also waiting for me at the finish line with a vodka and coke also helped significantly.

I was also touched by the support of strangers. People cheering your name, handing out sweets and even pints at one point, and the hilarious signs spectators made such as "You're running better than our government".

A woman near the start held the sign, "You're nowhere f****** near", which sent a rippling wave of laughter as each of us ran past.

My cheerleaders went the extra mile for the marathon (Image: NQ)

I also vowed never to complain about blisters again when I saw two men dressed as the Flintstones running the whole thing barefoot.

But there were runners of all shapes, sizes and abilities, runners running for themselves, for various charities close to their hearts, 'for mum' or 'for dad', in fancy dress - it was a heartwarming sight to see and be a part of.

I didn't hit the wall this time as I paced myself comfortably, finishing in 4.29 hours according to Strava (or 4.35 on the 'official chip' time).

Hungrily awaiting my post-marathon roast (Image: NQ)

I burst into tears when it was over. It was an incredible accomplishment and an indescribable feeling I know I'll be chasing again. 

It took me nine months to crack it, from going from 5km to 42km.

If you'd told me when I ventured out on my first run on that random sunny day in lockdown that I would run a marathon, I would've scoffed.

But, as it turns out, it's just a case of putting one foot in front of the other.

That really is all there is to it.