One Month Later: My First Half Marathon Breakdown

It’s officially been a month since I ran my first half marathon and I may or may not be in the middle of a full-blown identity crisis. Training for the race became my entire personality, and now that it’s over, I finally have the space to reflect on the experience: the run, the emotions, and the wild aftermath no one warned me about. So here it is my full half marathon breakdown.

The Morning of

My day started early like 5:30 a.m. kind of early. I was a mix of nerves and excitement. I rolled out of bed, got dressed in my race outfit, and headed down to breakfast. I kept it light with a banana just enough to keep me fueled without overdoing it.

By 6:30 a.m., the streets of Edinburgh were buzzing. Runners were everywhere stretching, sipping coffee, hyping each other up. It felt like the entire city had woken up for the same reason: to chase a goal, share their passion, or simply run for the love of it. There was something electric in the air, and I was so ready.

I walked to the start line, sipping water and eating a protein bar. I did a very light stretch (which, in hindsight, was a mistake stretch more than I did, please). My Nike Run Club app was ready, my playlist was blasting, and then… 3, 2, 1… I was off.

The Race

My boyfriend, his cousin, and my father-in-law all took off ahead of me but I reminded myself: This is my race. I wasn’t going to get caught up in what pace anyone else was running. I just wanted to enjoy it, and that’s exactly what I did.

The scenery was gorgeous (even if the wind was absolutely unhinged), and the energy from the crowd was next-level. Strangers cheering you on like they’ve known you for years? It’s magic.

Mile 1 felt amazing. I wasn’t even winded it felt like a walk in the park. But then came Mile 5, aka The Hill of Death. I had been told it was a flat course... which was a lie. I took my first running gel here and thanked past-me for bringing a water backpack I was hydrating the whole way.

People were handing out gummy bears along the course (bless them), and I ate about eight total. Genuinely think they saved me.

I took a 60-second walk break around Mile 6, then pushed on. Gel #2 came at Mile 9, and by Mile 11, I hit the wall. I was exhausted, but I knew the end was near. I turned my music up, told myself I could absolutely do this, and pushed through. When I saw the 12-mile marker, adrenaline kicked in. The second I saw the finish line, I almost couldn’t believe it I had done it.

And plot twist: I was the first one in my group to finish.Yes, I beat my boyfriend. Yes, it’s still a daily topic of conversation.

Post-Race Recovery (and Chaos)

After the race, I had electrolyte water, more gummies, and a protein bar. We took our group photos and headed back to the hotel for what might have been the most glorious shower of my life. Then it was carbs on carbs on carbs, water, and laughter over a big dinner at the Intercontinental.

By 3 p.m., I was already stiff and I knew the next day was going to be rough. But I was not prepared for what happened next.

The Day After: A Rookie Mistake

The next morning, my grandma, parents, and I had a full day of sightseeing planned. We were up early and out walking around Edinburgh. I felt stiff but fine… until I realized I hadn’t had a single sip of water all day.

Cue the dehydration crisis.

At 6 a.m. the following morning, I woke up with a pounding migraine, tingling fingers, a dry throat, and (TMI) I was throwing up clear liquid. Nothing would stay down not even water. My mom and grandma were trying to help me hydrate, but I was in bad shape. Eventually, we had to call for medical help, and I was told I had a severe case of post-run dehydration something a lot of new runners experience.

I was given a Sprite (which, if you know me, I hate fizzy drinks pure torture), and after a few brutal hours, I finally felt human again.

Lesson learned: hydrate religiously after the run, not just during it.

One Month Later…

Looking back now, I still can’t believe I ran a half marathon. It’s one of the most physically and mentally challenging things I’ve ever done and I’m ridiculously proud of myself.

And the million-dollar question: Would I do it again?Absolutely. My plan? One half marathon a year. And who knows… maybe one day I’ll be a full marathon girly.