‘Don't let this slip...’
It was kilometre 39 at the Barcelona Marathon. All those miles banked in the depths of winter. All those strength sessions undertaken to keep me on the road. All that mobility and foam rolling when I’d rather just watch the football.
It had come down to 3K… just under two miles.
My tired mind worked out that I had about 14 minutes of running left.
I’d felt calm and in control the whole way round the Catalan capital… but this moment was going to come. It always does.
Don’t panic, I tell myself. I keep carrying out mini self-assessments… do I need any more fuel? Do I need more water?
‘C’mon Mark… you can tough this out for 14 minutes...’
I had been lapping my watch every 5K with the intention of keeping them between 22:30 and 23:00.
However, I knew by the eighth 5K block that I had slowed.
‘Don’t even think about lapping that watch, Mark.’
I didn’t need that information. I could feel that I had slowed slightly, and I didn’t need my Garmin to confirm it, like that mate who points out a spot on your face.
I knew I was still on for under 3:15 but it could be close.
I glanced at my forearm where I had written the word ‘CALM’.
I had run well by my standards up to this point, but I needed to keep my head - it wasn’t over yet.
I tried to get on the heels of as many runners as I could that seemed to be making progress.
When the 41K marker came I dared to look at my watch… was this still on?
3:09 - yes - we’re on!
Suddenly I felt liberated from the tension that had been building during the latter stages.
One kilometre to go and I had just under six minutes to do it.
I was getting to enjoy one of those rare moments when you sit in the fact you’re going to achieve the goal you set out for several months ago.
All those runs when you really question why you’re doing this.
All that self-doubt, something I have perennially struggled with, particularly when it comes to running and beyond if I’m completely honest.
But I know I can overcome it. I’ve had setbacks during my running journey, and of course, there will be more. That’s the nature of it.
But moments like the last kilometre in Barcelona are why I’ve kept the faith in myself. Why I keep coming back for more during the good, the bad and the ugly of this sport.
This is why I do it - to convince myself that I can do hard things and gather evidence that I’m capable of more than I think.
From left - Jon Shooter, Martin Reynolds, Adam Baker and Mark Armstrong celebrate finishing the Barcelona Marathon (Image: Jon Shooter)
As I stepped on the blue carpet along the home straight, I quickened the pace, undoubtedly buoyed by the crowd sucking towards the finish line.
3:13:45 – more than six minutes quicker than I ran in Berlin six months ago. Another building block in place to hopefully one day in the future run a sub three-hour marathon.
That feeling of liberation I had experienced in the last kilometre almost immediately gave way to the kind of deep, satisfying ache in my legs as I collected my medal.
What made the whole experience even better were the three friends I travelled with – Adam Baker, Jon Shooter, and Martin Reynolds – also had great runs.
Each of them inspirational in their own way - reminding me that, as much as running is an individual battle, it’s also about the people who push you, celebrate with you, and share in every step of the journey… including the crucial post-race rehydration strategy we executed flawlessly in an Irish bar afterward.
