Chasing Redemption: Lindsay’s Ballarat Breakthrough
The Road to Ballarat: Redemption After Melbourne
The journey to the Ballarat Marathon wasn’t just about running, it was about redemption. A year before, I ran the Melbourne Marathon in October 2024, aiming for a sub-3-hour finish. I had trained hard, but my preparation wasn’t what it needed to be. I pushed too hard in training, wasn’t fully rested and when race day came, my strategy was poor from the start. The result? A 3:00:19 finish, just 20 seconds shy of my goal. But more than the time, what hurt the most was how poorly I ran. I blew up badly and for the first time, I felt like I had let myself down, after another marathon attempt. I crossed the line, not with joy, but with frustration. It felt like all my effort, all my sacrifice, had amounted to nothing.
That race haunted me. I knew I had more to give and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had unfinished business with the marathon. Ballarat became more than just another race, it was my chance to redeem myself and to prove that I could run the marathon the way I knew I was capable of. I wasn’t just racing against the clock; I was racing against the ghost of that unfinished business, the lessons I hadn’t yet learned and the frustration that had lingered since Melbourne. It was personal.
Race Day: The Calm Before the Storm
When the morning of the Ballarat Marathon arrived, I was different. The nerves weren’t the same as they were in Melbourne. This time, I was calm, focused and prepared, not just physically, but mentally. I had spent months rebuilding my confidence, addressing the weaknesses from the previous race. I wasn’t here just to finish. I was here to race. I had a clear plan: stick with the 3:00 pacer, save energy for the final surge after 36km. The weather was mild, almost perfect for running and as I took the first few strides, I felt the weight of months of training, struggles and sacrifices pressing on me. But it wasn’t a burden, it was motivation. This race wasn’t just about a time on the clock. It was about proving to myself that I could push through the darkness, that I could do something that had once felt impossible.
The Experience: The Battle for Control
The first half of the race was everything I had hoped for. I stuck with the 3:00 pacer, focusing on pacing, on holding back and making sure I stayed in control. My legs were light, my mind sharp. I knew the real test was coming after 30km, but for the first time in a marathon, I felt confident. I wasn’t just getting by, I was thriving. There was a voice in my head that kept reminding me, This is it. You’re doing it right this time. As I passed halfway, I felt a quiet sense of control.
At 32km, though, the mental battle began. I checked in with my body. No injuries, no major discomfort and I just kept moving forward, one step at a time. As I hit 34km, the familiar exhaustion set in. But this time, I had learned how to handle it. The mind is a powerful thing, and I knew if I kept it strong, my body would follow. I kept reminding myself: You’ve done the work. You know how to do this. I just had to get to 35km, then just get to the next kilometre. And when I reached the 37km mark, something clicked.
The crowd’s cheers echoed through the streets and I felt a rush of energy I didn’t know I had left. I could feel the finish line drawing near. My legs were tired, but there was a fire in me that wouldn’t go out. I pushed harder, faster. I was going to do this. I wasn’t just running for the finish line, I was running for everything I had sacrificed, everything I had endured to get here. When I crossed that line in 2:58:53, I broke down, not from exhaustion, but from the overwhelming sense of achievement.
The Struggles: The Moments I Wanted to Quit
There were moments leading up to Ballarat when I doubted whether I could really turn things around. The memories of Melbourne haunted me. How I had blown up, how all my hard work had felt like it was for nothing. I remember crossing the finish line there, exhausted and disappointed. That race broke me in ways I didn’t expect. But in the months leading up to Ballarat, I let that pain fuel me. I knew I had more in me. I wasn’t just going to repeat my mistakes. I worked tirelessly on my mental game, focusing on every detail: fueling, pacing, rest, recovery. The training was grueling, but it was worth it.
The illness I faced in the middle of my training block for Ballarat only added to the challenge. After the struggles of Melbourne, getting sick felt like the final blow. There were moments when I didn’t know if I’d make it to the starting line, let alone run a sub-3. But those moments of doubt were exactly what I had to face. When you’ve failed before, you realise that failure doesn’t have to be the end. I could choose to keep fighting, even when it felt hopeless. And that’s exactly what I did. I pushed through the doubts, the sickness and the uncertainty, because I knew that the marathon wasn’t just about what happens on race day. It was about every moment that led up to it.
The Triumph: A Moment of Redemption
Crossing the finish line at Ballarat was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It wasn’t just the time, it wasn’t even the sub-3-hour barrier. It was the fact that I had done everything right this time. The pacing, the fueling, the mental focus. I had executed my race plan to perfection. I had finally overcome the mistakes of Melbourne and found the success I had been searching for. The finish line wasn’t just a finish, it was a moment of personal redemption. For the first time, I wasn’t just happy to finish a marathon, I was proud of how I did it. And as I looked around at the faces of fellow runners, I realised that this race wasn’t just about crossing the line, it was about everything that led up to it. The training, the battles, the failures, and the triumphs. It was all part of the journey.
Final Thoughts: The Power of Believing in Your Journey
Looking back on the journey, I realise now that the hardest part wasn’t the race itself, it was the mental struggle, the battle to believe in myself. The marathon is a test of endurance, yes, but it’s also a test of heart. There were so many moments where I doubted I could finish, where I questioned why I was doing this in the first place. But in the end, I learned that the mind is the most powerful tool you have. Train it to stay positive, to keep pushing, to never give up, even when it feels impossible.
For anyone considering a marathon, my advice is simple: it’s not just about the race, it’s about the journey. There will be times when you fail, times when you want to give up. But the beauty of the marathon is that you can always rise again. So don’t fear failure, learn from it. Trust your preparation, trust your body, and trust that you have the strength to keep going, no matter what. Because in the end, the marathon is about so much more than a time on the clock. It’s about proving to yourself that you can.
