The tragic death by suicide of my youngest uncle inspired me to train and enter my second attempt at a full marathon.

I wanted to scratch an itch I had after my disappointing time in my debut marathon in Perth, knowing I had to give this 42.2km race the respect it deserves. Signing up for Canberra also gave me an opportunity to raise money for Beyond Blue, a charity that assists those struggling with mental health challenges.

Again, as a shift worker, my training program was put together from online resources and was limited to solo runs squeezed into the mornings of my night shifts and days off. Fortunately, my husband generously cycled alongside me for many of my long runs.

I learnt lessons about ensuring I didn’t skip my scheduled runs. I bought some gels for race-day nutrition and ate plenty of carbohydrates in the lead-up to race day.

Travelling for a running event involves an array of other issues, such as when to travel, where to stay, how to get to and from the race precinct, and how to plan my meals, especially the pre-race breakfast.

I booked into the Burbury Hotel, which was close enough to walk to and from the start of the race at Old Parliament House. The only consideration I hadn’t factored in was how I would prepare a decent pre-race breakfast. I would chalk that up to a learning experience and ensure that in the future, I would book accommodation that provided a kitchenette.

 The night before the race, I was awake, listening to the howling wind outside. I worked myself into the right state worrying about the weather, which is a total waste of time because there is nothing you can do about it. The morning was cold, wet, and windy. The course is picturesque, though, as it winds up around Parliament House, towards Yarralumla, and then over the Commonwealth Avenue bridge along Lake Burley Griffin. The looping course meant that runners sometimes got both a headwind and a tailwind. Despite the miserable weather, plenty of spectators were out along the course, and I had the great company of an old work colleague for the first two-thirds of the race.

I wanted to come in under four hours and was thrilled when I had enough of a kick left to leave the pacing group behind in the last seven kilometers, finishing in a smidge over 3 hours and 46 minutes.

When I had finished my debut marathon, a fellow runner asked me if I was keen to do another. I looked at him incredulously, saying, “Mate, the box is ticked; there’s no need to tick it twice!”

As many runners can attest, our minds tend to play tricks on us in this marathon running game. Around the 16km mark, I remember being overwhelmed with how much longer I still had to go, doubting my ability to keep going. When I knew I had the energy to pick up the pace in the last 7 kilometres, though, my mindset changed. Crossing the finish line quite sometime before my goal of under 4 hours, my ego kicked in, and I knew I had caught the bug. I knew I would look forward to signing up for the next one. Marathons can do that to you. Even when you wonder what you are doing midway through a marathon, the sudden urge to sign up for another very shortly after finishing one is a phenomenon I don’t think I can adequately explain.