Elaine Bachman

Nervous excitement makes me bounce on the spot. I look at the people around me. They all look better prepared than I do…like they’ve done this a thousand times before…like this is a stroll in the park.

I feel sick inside. Yet, I am buzzing.

The forecast is for a sunny day, yet it’s still early enough that the air is cool. The sky is partly cloudy, and I hope it stays that way.

My hair is tied back, tight enough not to fall out of its ponytail, not too tight that it gives me a headache. My hydration belt sits comfortable on my hips. I have water, I have Gatorade.

I have butterflies in my stomach.

My laces are double knotted, so they don’t come undone. My earbuds are in and I’m listening to energising music. I’m poised to press the start button on my watch and on the app on my phone that is strapped to my arm.

Ok, this is about as ready as I’ll be.

I’m about to run a half marathon. Six months of training has led me to this morning in September.

But….as the event starts, and I cross the timing mat, I think to myself; it’s not just a half marathon.

It’s not just 21.2km

It’s not just 21,110m.

It’s not just 69,226 feet.

It’s months of training.

It’s months of running, core work and strength training.

It’s months of nutrition and hydration planning.

It’s months of planning the perfect playlist.

It’s getting out of bed on cold mornings.

It’s getting out of bed on days when I feel like running, and on the days I don’t.

It’s hitting the snooze button too many times, letting the time pass and then feeling guilty for missing my run or having to cut my run short.

It’s checking the weather forecast so I can plan when to run. It’s balancing my run days with core and strength training.

It’s starting with short runs and building the distance, week after week. It’s starting slow and building my speed.

It’s knowing I need to include interval runs but ignoring this because all I can think of is distance, distance, DISTANCE.

It’s keeping a close eye on my pace each kilometre; not too fast, not too slow. It’s getting better at this each week.

It’s the regular visits to the osteopath and massage therapist…and including new stretches in my routine.

It’s planning and taking rest days, even when I don’t feel like resting.
It’s working out what nutrition works for me. To carb or not to carb? What type of carb?

It’s living with a slightly messy house because I need to tun…and letting the ironing pile up, because I’m too tired to stand.

It’s the excitement of buying new running shoes, so I can wear them out and buy another pair.

It’s looking at what cool new running gear I can buy…because I always need new running gear.

It’s the constant chatter to everyone I know that I AM TRAINING FOR A HALF MARATHON.

It’s the support of those around me while I obsess over every part of the experience, from Day 1 of training. And their understanding when I arrange my social life so that training takes priority.

It’s reading inspirational running quotes.

It’s the nervous excitement of registering for the event. I can’t back out now!

It’s the countdown…and the nervously excited feeling I get as I hit single digit days.

It’s setting two goals for myself, one that I tell everyone and one that I keep to myself.

It’s planning what running gear I will wear.

It’s bouncing out of bed the morning of the run.

It’s pinning my race bib to my top.

It’s taming the butterflies in my stomach in the minutes when I am lined up at the start line, with other runners who look far better prepared and less anxious than I do.

It’s running each kilometre, physically and mentally. It’s pushing myself when I think I can’t run any more. It’s this day, FINALLY this day!

It’s the satisfied exhaustion I feel at the end…2 hours and 7 minutes later.

Nothing else that can make me so tired, make me hurt…that can be so satisfying, so emotional and give me so much more than I can ever express.

I sit on the ground, hurting and analysing my run. I can feel the muscles in my legs start to seize, and I stretch. The sun is out, and the day is warming up. The smell of freshly cooked pancakes is in the air, but I don’t want to eat. I don’t think I can keep food down. I drink instead. The Gatorade is sickly sweet, yet it’s just what my body needs.

I can’t believe it’s over.
All that time, all that planning. All that training.

I am happy it’s over. I can’t even imagine running one metre further. I don’t think I can get up. But I do.

As I limp to the car, I look forward to a long hot shower. While I vow not to run for, well, at least a few days, I am already thinking about running the same event next year.

To feel that nervous excitement…the butterflies in my stomach. Because it’s NOT just a half marathon.

Written as a speech for Toastmasters International in 2014.

Copyright Elaine Bachman February 2025. All rights reserved; this intellectual property belongs solely to Elaine Bachman.

Elaine Bachman

Elaine was born in Naarm and is slowing down in life, with plans to move to a regional seaside town as soon as she possibly can. She loves to travel, read and stare out at sea.