Conquer Your First Marathon: An Inspiring Journey from Beginner to Finisher

This is a story that proves anyone can complete a marathon.

Tatiana Baturina

Public Relations Director at Quadro Electric, emerging writer, passionate runner.

The Backstory

It's often said that only 1% of the world's population can run a marathon. However, my motivation wasn’t to join some mysterious athletic elite. Running a marathon became a turning point in overcoming my self-destructive habits. Here, I share why, how, and what I learned from running the marathon in Paris on April 8, 2018. I found limited practical information about amateur marathon preparation, so I decided to share my experience.

A year ago, I struggled to quit smoking. I would stub out a cigarette by the office trash bin, promising it was my last, only to repeat the cycle. Some people still can’t imagine me without a cigarette. Denial about the serious health risks never convinced me. I realized I needed an immediate and undeniable reason to quit—a situation where smoking truly threatened my life here and now, not in some distant hypothetical future.

Last spring, I was running often and passionately, yet smoking afterwards felt even more satisfying. But I understood that long-distance running and smoking simply don’t mix—it’s dangerous and unfeasible.

So, I registered for a half marathon—and that’s how I quit smoking.

That summer, I ran a few more half marathons and then ventured to the mountains in the fall, where oxygen is scarce. On the drive back, my friend and I talked about what we really wanted from life. She dreamed of Paris; I craved new challenges, to push myself again and avoid ending up with rosé and a cigarette at a street café, a temptation I had secretly entertained.

We remembered the spring marathon in Paris and impulsively bought our race entries. Was it a spontaneous decision? Absolutely. Was I scared? Definitely. But not of the long run or physical strain—the real fear was losing motivation, finding excuses to quit training, and resenting myself forever. Goosebumps ran down my spine. Then, we began preparing.

Training Journey

Workouts

Although I had completed several half marathons, doubling the distance meant I needed a coach who could tailor a proper plan. A classmate recommended Yegor Chernov. Our training spanned October to April, with weekly interval sessions held at the velodrome on Krestovsky Island.

Initially, I thought attending a few sessions, getting advice, and following a plan independently would be enough. In reality, marathon training is full of nuances. For six months, I trained weekly with my coach.

You can train solo using apps like Runkeeper, which is perfectly fine. However, having a coach to consult and someone to hold you accountable after every workout greatly contributed to my success.

Marathon preparation is a long, repetitive journey.

Now, I know every kilometer in the Admiralteysky district and along the Neva River. I recognize every stone lion and caryatid, the lengths of all bridges, and how many New Found Glory songs it takes to run from home to the Neva embankment.

Once a week, we trained 2–3 hours on the track doing intervals, running drills, and static exercises. The coach assigned running plans for the other five days, averaging 50–70 kilometers per week, including a long run of 15–30 kilometers on weekends.

We created a chat group for sharing reports and discussing issues. No matter where I was or how busy my day, I found time to run—early mornings, late nights, or during travels. Running abroad became a fantastic way to explore new cities and coastlines. I ran in Spain, Copenhagen, Bali, Moscow, Krasnaya Polyana, and Karelia.

Gear

My coach advised running on tracks, parks, or indoor arenas for safety. The idea of endless laps around a small park seemed unbearable. Running on asphalt required investing in running shoes with thick soles to protect my joints.

I visited a specialty running store, tried on shoes under expert supervision, and bought unusual-looking Hoka One One sneakers with oversized white soles. They felt like marshmallows strapped to my feet. The shoes proved excellent—I've logged over 1,000 kilometers in them, my joints feel great, and they still look nearly new despite weathering ice, tropical rain, mud, and scorching sun. Highly recommended.

Other handy items included a running belt I won in Finland, perfect for carrying my phone, energy gels, plasters, and keys without bouncing during runs.

I also got compression calf sleeves to protect my calves during long runs and warm running pants from H&M Sport. My husband gifted me a Suunto watch with a heart rate monitor, which helped track pace, distance, and other vital metrics.

Winter training added complexity. To sweat outdoors at –10°C, I layered thermal underwear, lightweight mountain gear, a Red Fox windbreaker, and rashguards—thin, breathable tops that wick sweat and retain warmth. Sometimes wool tights replaced thermal leggings. Essential accessories included a hat, warm scarf, and gloves.

During workouts, I listened to music, lectures, audiobooks, chatted with a running buddy, talked on the phone, crafted stories in my head, and reflected on life.

Nutrition

I once thought running was an excellent weight loss method. While that was true at first, my weight didn’t drop during training. Eating healthy and following nutrition guides can help shed pounds, but my indulgence in comfort food and the 'I ran, so I can eat' mindset kept me stable. A friend jokingly dubbed us "runners with mass" during a photo session.

I learned about energy gels and the necessity of eating while running. Initially skeptical, I realized that skipping food after two hours of running led to nausea, headaches, and fatigue.

I started carrying gels and protein bars, and my husband supported me by delivering bananas and cola at the 25-kilometer mark on Krestovsky Island. Vitamins and supplements like Panangin were staples throughout training.

One week before the marathon, my coach introduced a specialized nutrition plan involving carb depletion followed by carb loading to maximize glycogen stores and prevent hitting the infamous "wall" after 30 kilometers.

The plan worked flawlessly—none of us experienced the dreaded energy crash, though we saw runners being taken away by medical staff.

Challenges

Late January brought the hardest phase—not injuries or illness, but mental fatigue. Training became monotonous and time-consuming.

Saturdays became all about running: breakfast, long run, hot shower, lunch. After work, there was no casual socializing—just changing and running familiar routes or endless laps on the track. The boredom bred frustration and thoughts of quitting.

Audiobooks saved me. I once listened to Victor Pelevin’s "Pineapple Water for the Fair Lady" and regretted when the run ended.

Distracting my mind intellectually helped me overcome the monotony.

The toughest moments weren’t on race day but during training:

1. Running 22 kilometers after flying from Bali’s +30°C to –10°C without eating, followed by freezing temperatures.
2. Training sessions at 4–5 a.m. due to schedule constraints.
3. Running a week after a 30-kilometer long run when my body felt like lead.
4. An 8-kilometer run after three days of a protein-only diet, four days before the marathon, when even speaking seemed exhausting.
5. Interval training shortly after recovering from the flu.

Despite the hardships, I discovered I was capable of much more than I imagined—a truly invaluable revelation.

Race Day

We arrived in Paris the day before the marathon. We purchased matching black outfits printed with "Turn your pain into power." After registration, collecting race bibs with chips, and receiving starter kits and running backpacks, we enjoyed a hearty dinner and met at the Champs-Élysées the next morning.

The Paris marathon hosted 55,000 runners this year, including 290 Russians and 5,000 women. Our husbands escorted us to the start zone and planned to meet us at the 30-kilometer mark with extra gels since carrying more than three gels is impractical, and fueling every 5 kilometers from the 15th is essential.

Music played, and runners warmed up and sang. The exhilarating atmosphere of this massive international sporting event was breathtaking—moments like these make life worth living.

Then, the countdown and we're off.

The first 10 kilometers passed through iconic sights: Champs-Élysées, Louvre, Bastille Square—filled with stunning aesthetics and excitement. Locals, fans, firefighters, and musicians cheered us on. Then we entered a vast park where the sun heated up to 68°F (20°C). We ran through water sprays and cooled off with bottles and basins along the route.

We carefully monitored our pace. It’s easy to start too fast amid crowds and unfamiliar surroundings, which can deplete energy later. I constantly checked my watch, and we deliberately slowed down at times.

Starting at 15 kilometers, we consumed gels, then oranges and bananas provided by volunteers. After running out of gels, our friends and husbands awaited us at 29 kilometers, tracking us via a live app, handing over fresh gels, and running alongside us briefly.

By then, fatigue set in. I put on headphones, and music boosted my energy. Many runners started walking between kilometers 32 and 39. Time dragged, thigh muscles ached. I cooled my legs, head, and back with water, ate candies, and felt relief.

Cheering spectators, humorous signs like "See Paris and sweat!", eccentric costumes, and observing the scene kept spirits high.

My friend and I chatted most of the time. The approaching finish line overshadowed any pain. At the final stretch, enthusiastic friends jumped the barriers to run the last meters with us, shouting in excitement. Crossing under the giant "You did it!" banner, receiving our medals, and feeling pure joy brought a cathartic release.

We ate oranges and walked to find a café for juice. Thanks to our coach’s training, unlike many exhausted runners lying on the pavement or curled up behind the finish line, we showered on our own and enjoyed relaxed strolls that evening and the next day, albeit with some stiffness.

That was my first marathon.

Afterwards, I realized I spent the last six months living the way I want to live my life—learning patience through effort and embracing the joy of becoming an amateur in increasingly extraordinary pursuits.

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