From 7K Jogger to 42K Fighter: The Marathon I Never Planned For

That day, I only wanted to run a little — maybe five, maybe seven kilometers.
Just to clear my head.

But a few minutes in, I started talking to myself.
And I realized how weak, lazy, and careless I had become — in my work, in my routines, in how I treated my goals.
Then a thought hit me, loud and clear:
“You’ve always wanted to run a marathon.”

And right there, without any real reason, I decided to do it.
No training. No plan. No excuses.

The Start: Three Bananas, a Vitamin C Tablet, and a Dream

My “pre-race meal” was ridiculous: one vitamin C tablet, three bananas, and a coconut water.
I opened Komoot, roughly mapped out a 42.4 km route through forest trails and steep hills — and just started running.

I wasn’t ready. Not physically, not mentally.
But I quickly realized: it’s not about being ready — it’s about deciding to move.

Every kilometer became a choice: stand still or keep going.

The trail was never straight.
It climbed, dipped, turned into mud, then into gravel.
But I kept moving — slowly, painfully, stubbornly.

Every Step Is Better Than Standing Still

Whenever I looked back, I saw the hills I had already crossed and thought:
“They’re behind me now. Don’t look back — just keep moving forward.”

Every kilometer was its own lesson, its own victory.
I started talking to myself constantly:

“Thank you, body, for carrying me through this.”
“Thank you, mind, for not quitting.”
“You didn’t come here for half a marathon — you came for the full one.”

By the end, I must’ve found 180 different ways to say thank you to myself.
Each one gave me strength.

Pain Is a Mind Game

After 25 kilometers, the real fight began.
My feet burned. Blisters formed — I even punched them to pop them, just so I could keep going.
Rain started pouring. Hunger, thirst, detours — I had barely brought enough supplies.
I had to think constantly about how to survive the next stretch.

But I learned something: pain lives in the mind.
My body was done — but my head refused to stop.

I had the thought to quit probably 300 times.
Take the train home. Give up.
But this wasn’t a race. There were no crowds, no medals, no one waiting at the finish.
It was my marathon.
My battle with quitting.

The Moment I Finished

After 9 hours, 32 minutes, and 2 seconds — I reached the end.
My whole body started shaking.
I couldn’t walk up stairs.
I sweated for hours, drank water mixed with salt just to stabilize myself.

For two days, I could barely move.
But four days later, all that remained was strength.

What It Taught Me

I learned that every step forward is better than standing still.
That you can achieve anything if you stop wasting energy on the past and keep your eyes on what’s ahead.
That your mind, body, and discipline align the moment you decide not to quit.

This marathon wasn’t about sport — it was a wake-up call.
It showed me that waiting for the “right moment” is pointless.
You just have to start.

Now, only four days later, I feel stronger than ever.
Ready to train, to work harder, to live better.
Because now I know:
You can do absolutely anything — if you truly decide to.