I’ve Treated Runners for 15 Years. Now I’m Finally Learning How to Be One.

I’ve worked with runners for years.

I’ve treated their calf strains, grumpy achilles, sore knees, hamstring problems and the countless other aches and pains that come with putting one foot in front of the other thousands of times a week.

But I’ve never really considered myself a runner.

Don't get me wrong, I've always ran. But running for me was about fitness, getting outside and clearing my head. I'd pick a 5–10km route, stick my headphones in and basically try to get around it as quickly as I could.

No real thought about pace. No heart-rate zones. No easy runs, tempo runs or long runs.

Just run.

Then I got a place in the London Marathon.

And suddenly things changed.

There's now a much bigger goal at the end of all this, which means every run has a purpose.

Even my strength training is being adjusted around my running.

And despite spending the best part of 15 years working with runners and talking about training load, strength, recovery and injury prevention, I'm very much learning on the job.

So, around six weeks into actually trying to train like a runner, here are some of my first lessons.

And before we begin, let's be clear, these are my own personal lessons and experiences and nothing in here should be seen as my 'expert' advice. They may however give you something to think about.

1. Buy the bloody trainers properly

I'll hold my hands up here.

Historically, my running-shoe selection process hasn't been particularly scientific:

Do they look good? Are they roughly within budget? They'll do.

This time I decided that if I'm asking my body to eventually carry me 26.2 miles, I should probably put a little more thought into what's on my feet.

So I went for a simple gait analysis and actually took the time to try some shoes on.

And then some more.

I probably tried 8–10 pairs altogether.

Different brands. Different shapes. Different levels of cushioning. Some I expected to love and didn't. Others felt completely different to what I'd expected.

I'm not suggesting you need the most expensive carbon-plated super shoe on the market. Far from it.

But if you're going to substantially increase the amount of running you're doing, I'd absolutely recommend taking the time — and spending a sensible amount of money — to find something comfortable that works for you.

Don't just buy the ones that look good.

Apparently that's not how we're doing this anymore.

2. Nobody prepares you for the rabbit hole

You think you're taking up running.

Cute.

What you're actually doing is entering an entirely new retail market.

It started with the trainers.

Then I needed some decent running socks.

Then I started looking at watches.

Then headphones.

Then suddenly I'm comparing different sock brands and Googling chafe-resistant underwear like it's completely normal behaviour.

And I haven't even properly entered the world of gels and race-day nutrition yet.

I'm beginning to understand why runners always have so much stuff.

The rabbit hole is deep.

Consider yourself warned.

3. Just because the app says it, doesn't mean you're ready for it

This is probably where my professional experience helped me most.

Once I'd got my marathon place, naturally I downloaded the apps, entered my goal and waited for technology to tell me what to do.

And it did.

Three or four runs per week.

Sprints.

Tempo work.

Hills.

Long runs.

The works.

There was just one fairly significant problem.

I'd barely been running.

I think I'd done one run in the previous three months.

I've treated hundreds of runners over the years who have increased their running load too quickly, done too much intensity or simply asked their body to tolerate a workload it wasn't ready for.

So jumping from virtually nothing straight into four runs a week with sprints, hills and tempo work didn't sit right with me.

After a bit of thought — and, I'll admit it, plenty of back-and-forth with ChatGPT — I decided to strip everything back.

Before worrying about how I was running, I needed to get used to simply running regularly.

Going from almost no running to three runs per week was already a substantial increase in load.

I didn't need to sprinkle sprints on top just because an algorithm told me to.

So the first six weeks have predominantly been about building frequency, gradually increasing my longer run and getting my body (my muscles, joints and tendons) accustomed to running three times per week.

I even managed to navigate a family holiday by getting a couple of shorter runs in without allowing marathon training to completely take over our time away.

There's obviously a time for structure, progression and harder sessions. I'm beginning to introduce those now.

But my first job was simply to earn the right to do them.

So if you're starting a running programme, don't automatically assume that because an app has put something on Tuesday's schedule, your body is ready for it.

Use some common sense.

And don't be afraid to use your intuition too.

4. Heart-rate zones... WOW

I've obviously always been aware of heart-rate zones, I'm in the fitness industry right.

I've had plenty of runners sit in the clinic talking to me about Zone 2, aerobic thresholds and their heart rate on various runs.

And if I'm completely truthful, parts of those conversations went slightly over my head.

I understood the concept.

I just didn't really get it.

Now I do.

And my main question is:

HOW SLOW DO YOU HAVE TO RUN?!

This has probably been the biggest adjustment of all.

Previously, I'd leave the house with either a route or distance in mind and try to get around it reasonably quickly.

If I ran the same 5km faster than last time? Brilliant.

Now there's a bigger goal.

I'm not trying to win Tuesday morning.

I'm trying to build the aerobic capacity that will eventually allow me to run a marathon.

And sometimes that means slowing right down.

Dropping the ego and accepting a pace that previously I'd probably have been slightly embarrassed to see on Strava has been a genuine challenge.

It's taken me five or six weeks to really start getting the hang of it.

But I'm finally reaching the point where I can settle into an easy run, control my heart rate and actually feel the benefit of doing so.

Which leads nicely onto...

5. Running easy is actually a skill

I'd assumed the easy runs would be... well... easy.

Turns out running slowly when you've spent years subconsciously treating every run like a mini time trial takes some practice.

There's always the temptation to speed up when you're feeling good.

Someone runs past you and suddenly your competitive brain wakes up.

Your watch shows a pace slower than you'd like and your ego starts negotiating with you.

I've also learned how important the start of the run is.

If I go charging off because my legs feel fresh, my heart rate climbs early and I can spend the rest of the run trying to wrestle it back down.

Start slower, let my body warm up and allow my heart rate to gradually settle?

Completely different run.

I've recently had a couple of runs where I've genuinely felt like I could hold a conversation throughout.

That sounds ridiculously simple.

But it's taken me weeks to properly achieve it.

6. Stop judging every run by pace

This is another big mindset shift.

Previously my assessment of a run was basically:

How far did I go and how quickly did I do it?

That's it.

Now I'm learning to ask a different question:

What was this run supposed to achieve?

If today's session was supposed to be 50 minutes of easy aerobic running and I finish having kept my effort controlled, then that's a successful session.

Even if I could have run it five minutes faster.

In fact, running it five minutes faster might actually have made it a worse session.

That has taken some getting used to.

But I think it's one of the biggest differences between simply going for a run and actually training for something.

Every run doesn't need to be a test of how fit you are.

Sometimes you've just got to do the work you're supposed to do and save the heroics for another day.

7. Consistency beats the perfect programme

I'm already learning that marathon training isn't going to happen in a vacuum.

There's work.

Family.

Holidays.

Poor sleep.

Busy weekends.

And all the other stuff that comes with being a normal human being who happens to be training for a marathon.

I've already had weeks where sessions have needed to move around.

I've trained on holiday and deliberately kept the runs shorter so they didn't eat into family time.

I've also missed a long run because, quite simply, life got in the way.

My immediate reaction? Frustration.

Could I squeeze it in somewhere else? Should I make up the mileage? Had I messed up the week?

But one missed session doesn't undo weeks of consistent work.

And squeezing it into an already busy week just to make the training plan look pretty could potentially cause more problems than it solves.

I'm beginning to appreciate that the best programme isn't necessarily the one that looks perfect on paper.

It's the one you can consistently complete.

Training has to fit around life because, unless you're a professional athlete, life isn't going to fit around training.

8. Strength training and running need to play nicely together

I've spent years telling runners they should strength train.

I'm definitely not changing my mind on that one.

But I'm now appreciating the other side of the equation.

It's not simply a case of doing your running and doing some strength training.

They have to work together.

If I've got a longer run on Sunday, smashing my legs to pieces in the gym on Saturday probably isn't particularly clever.

Likewise, if I'm introducing a harder running session, I need to think about what I've done in the gym beforehand and what's coming afterwards.

I'm certainly not giving strength training up.

Partly because I believe it's important.

And partly because I have absolutely no intention of emerging from marathon training looking like a strong gust of wind could take me out.

But the goalposts have shifted.

Strength work now needs to support the running rather than compete with it.

And working out how to balance the two is another part of the learning process.

The therapist has become the patient

Perhaps my biggest takeaway so far is just how different it feels being on this side of the conversation.

I've spent years talking to runners about progressive loading, strength, recovery and managing aches and pains.

I understand the theory.

But that doesn't mean I knew what Zone 2 actually felt like.

It didn't mean I understood how difficult it can be to deliberately slow yourself down.

Or how tempting it is to add another session because you feel like you're not doing enough.

Or how quickly you start analysing every little niggle when your weekly mileage starts creeping up.

Or, apparently, how strongly you can feel about running socks.

And I think that's been really useful.

Because there's a big difference between understanding something professionally and experiencing it yourself.

I'm still very early in the process.

The distances will get longer. The training will get harder. There will undoubtedly be some bumps along the way.

But six weeks in, I'm already looking at running very differently.

For years I've helped people become better, stronger and hopefully less injury-prone runners.

Now I've got to see if I can take some of my own advice.

London awaits.