What I learnt from running the largest marathon in the world in New York

The countdown to the London Marathon is on. Here are the lessons I gleaned from running 26.2 miles across the pond

These days everyone is a runner. Try making it through an average social occasion without someone extolling the virtues of it at great length and in comprehensive detail.
Indeed pounding those pavements has become very popular, and I must admit, I have found myself caught up in the swirl of it all. So much so that I signed up to the largest marathon in the world in NYC – this is what I learned.
If you’re considering running a marathon, a good question to ask yourself is: why? The reality is running is pretty boring, often a slog and most of the time you’d rather be doing something else.
So, it’s important to have a good reason when you inevitably ask yourself “Why on earth am I doing this?”. If you have decided to run 26.2 miles and picked an event, all you need to do is start training. It’s advisable to give yourself between three and six months for this part, but the longer the better, especially if it’s your first marathon.
Ahead of your “training block” buy some kit. Getting a proper pair of running trainers is crucial, so go down to your local running shop and take advice on which are most suited to your arches, gate and foot-strike position. A watch is also essential so that you can track your pace and distances accurately.
Finally, it’s time to do some exercise. There are loads of good training plans out there and apps which design a schedule around your goals. I chose to enlist the help of a running coach, which has become an increasingly popular option among amateurs. A coach is great for personalising a plan to suit you and your life, while also being on hand to answer questions that inevitably come up. I was also keen to avoid injury, so I felt that having a pro watching over me and managing my schedule was probably not a bad idea.
In the summer, running is a doddle. You get home from work and the sun is shining, there are several hours of golden light left and going on a run seems like a great idea. It’s the winter months that are the problem. You either wake up before work, wrap up and plod around in the pitch black, or you get home from work, wrap up, and plod around in the pitch black. It’s miserable and cold and wet and rubbish.
For most of my training, I was exercising after work owing to my 6.30am-2.30pm shift. As the days became colder I got into the habit of taking a siesta for an hour or two after getting home, which is a fantastic idea until the alarm rings and you come around to the realisation that you have to leave the warmth of bed and go for an 8km jog. That’s the hardest part about marathon training; continually doing runs that you have absolutely no interest in doing – at all – because that very consistency will eventually get you where you want to be. It is the epitome of delayed gratification.
One of the great benefits of running is that you can eat a lot without feeling guilty about it. Before my marathon block, I was adhering to a strict schedule of intermittent fasting in which I would eat within an eight-hour window each day and then fast for 16 hours.
So I’d usually have my food between 2pm and 10pm. I was also trying not to consume carbohydrates in the week for fear of becoming fat. But as my training load progressed those structures and rules started to disintegrate and before long had completely disappeared. It’s impossible to run that much without carbs and my appetite became too severe to wait until 2pm to eat each day.
Eating properly will enhance your performance massively. Once I realised this, for breakfast I would often have fruit and yogurt or oats, then soup or a salad for lunch, and always cook something from scratch in the evening. Avoiding lots of ultra-processed stuff is a pretty good start for fuelling your body appropriately and eating well makes running a lot more enjoyable.
As well as running five times a week, I would do one gym session to strengthen my leg muscles. I played lots of sports in my teenage years and my knees often buckled. A coach of mine once said I looked like a lame horse while running. 
I started tracking my sleep, which shed light on the fact that my four to five hours of nightly rest was suboptimal. I have since become obsessive about my sleep so much so that checking my score monitored by my smart ring is the first thing I do each day. I am much more regimented with my sleep regime now, going to bed earlier and usually don’t drink during the week either. I have found seven hours to be the sweet spot for me midweek. I also try to sleep as much as possible at the weekend to help my body recover.
Who knew sleep efficiency, restfulness ratings, REM sleep data and deep-sleep metrics could be so fascinating. Another learning is that alcohol affects sleep in a very negative way.
I really enjoyed this part of the marathon prep. In the 24 hours leading up to the marathon, I started the day at an American diner with a gloopy bowl of oatmeal and then an enormous stack of peanut butter and banana pancakes. Several hours later I went for a three-mile shake-out run – a very low-intensity jog to get the legs moving one last time which is meant to make your legs feel as fresh as possible on race day – and then tucked into a pizza for lunch.
Later that evening, I continued the carb load with two bowls of pasta and a side of focaccia. At this stage you don’t need to stuff your face with food, it’s just about eating as many carbs as possible, without making yourself feel sick and cutting down on protein, fat and anything spicy. You don’t want to go to bed feeling like you are about to burst as you’ll likely wake up on race day feeling sluggish.
At 9pm, I set my alarm for 4am and went to sleep. The clocks went back on Sunday so I was gifted a bonus hour of sleep and woke up feeling well-rested. I microwaved my porridge, adding some banana before heading to the race.
At this point the nerves started setting in. After the mandatory pre-race visit to the loo, I chucked my hoodie in a designated clothes donation box and headed to the start line, where I laced up my so-called “super shoes”, which have a carbon plate in the sole to give me an extra spring in the step. I had done about 90 per cent of my training in normal running trainers with the other 10 per cent in these, so they were nicely broken in for race day.
At around six miles, I felt quite strong. But it’s easy to catastrophise about aches and pains and let these niggles take over your brain. 
My coping mechanism for this was to segment the race into little chunks. For instance, at the 13-mile stage, I told myself that all I had to do was get to 18, a mere five miles of running, which isn’t too bad.
After that you get to 20 miles and then there’s only six left. Once at 22 miles, you have a mere three miles to go. Breaking the race down into bite-sized portions made it feel a lot more manageable.
In the latter half, I just kept telling myself that I had made it this far and that all I needed to do was maintain my pace. “Don’t fall apart now, just keep going and you’ll be there soon enough,” I told myself.
There was also something quite special about knowing my friends and family were tracking my progress from the UK – that kept me motivated when things were getting tough. Having not had a drink for a fortnight, I kept reminding myself how good that first beer would taste and then started thinking about what I would eat once finished. I’d repeat to myself “it’s less than an hour of hard work and then you can chill”.
The course concluded in Central Park with a gradual but cruel incline. The crowds spurred me on at this point and despite being quite far within the pain cave. My advice at this point is to dig deep and increase the pace if possible. The final 800m felt like it would never end, as I crossed the finish line I felt sick. Straight after I stopped running, my legs seized up and I could barely walk. As soon as I got back to the hotel, I ordered an 18-inch pizza, had long a bath followed by beers at a dive bar just off Times Square.
Make sure you drink lots of water after the race. As a general rule anytime you eat or drink anything, make sure it’s accompanied by a glass of water. Consuming electrolytes is also a great way to make sure you are properly hydrated. I’d booked in for a hot oil massage, cryotherapy and an IV treatment the day after the race after which I felt like a completely new human.
The massage will help ease any tension or stiffness in your body, the cryo is great for reducing muscle soreness and the IV is a fantastic way of giving your body all the essential vitamins and minerals it needs to recover quickly. Indulgent as they sound, getting treatments like these will help your recovery and you’ll feel amazing.
Don’t forget to take a minute to acknowledge your achievement. Doing the marathon is a big deal to everyone – wear your medal with pride.
Alex Barton was a guest of The Langham and The Ned NoMad. He had post-race treatments at the Aman and travelled with Virgin Atlantic
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