How I Ran My First Marathon in Seville

Race Morning

The marathon started at 8:30, but I woke up at 5 for no good reason and couldn't fall back asleep (we're talented like that, yeah). It was 6°C in the morning, and I got properly cold walking to the start. But now I know what experienced marathoners do — they put on anything they don't mind throwing away, from old (or even new) sweaters and hoodies to disposable rain ponchos and just plain garbage bags. Once we started running, though, things heated up — and not just literally.

The First 20 km

The first kilometers are pure joy. Lots of energy after the taper. A huge crowd (around 12,000 runners, though initially 17,000 were announced), spectators lining the entire course, the energy is just incredible. Running felt easy, my legs carried me on their own. Seville's flat course is truly a gift: not a single serious climb, you just run and enjoy the city. Little kids reaching out their hands for high fives. Whistles, noisemakers, drummers, DJs along the route. There was even a live rock band.

I tried to hold a pace of around 5:30–5:50 per kilometer. I ate a gel roughly every 5 kilometers — energy kept coming, legs kept working. I ran the first half of the marathon in 1:59:59 net time — exactly sub-2 for the half! At that point, sub-4 at the finish still felt totally realistic. But...

The Wall at 32–35 km

Everyone says the marathon starts after the 30th kilometer. It's true. Up to 30 km, my pace held steady at around 5:49 per kilometer. And then a completely different marathon began.

At 32–35 kilometers, it hit me. My legs turned heavy, every step took effort. The gels wouldn't go down anymore — I never finished the last one. The only thought in my head: just let this be over. My pace started slipping: 5:52, 5:56, by the finish — 5:58 per kilometer. Seems like a small difference, but when every kilometer is a battle, those seconds feel like minutes. I'm convinced the organizers are frauds: after the 35th kilometer, each one was somehow twice as long as the last (I'm sure everyone makes this joke afterwards, but still).

The Finish

Many people around me had stopped running — they were just walking. But I wouldn't allow myself that. I only slowed down at water stations to avoid spilling water from the cup. And I made it.

I crossed the finish line in 4:09:18 net time. Not the sub-4 I'd dreamed of. But a first marathon is a first marathon. I'm still proud of myself, and I'm happy with it.

After the Finish

The finish area is a sight of its own. Some people stood hunched over by the barriers, quietly throwing up. Others were being wheeled away in wheelchairs because their legs had given out. Some were lying flat on the ground with their legs up in the air. They handed out water, electrolyte drinks, various beverages. I got a wooden medal (do they not give out metal ones at all anymore?).

I spent the rest of the day mostly lying down. My legs hurt so much that walking on flat ground was bearable, but stairs were a disaster. My wife, as luck would have it, had rented an apartment with a magnificent two-flight staircase. Going down it must have looked so comical that it deserved its own video — which she did, in fact, record. My legs were still aching the next day too.

The Numbers

For the stats-minded:

Average heart rate — 155. Calories burned — 3,208. Distance per watch — 43.13 km.

Takeaways

I lost most of my time at the start, stuck in a dense crowd. It was very hard to get up to my target pace. Next time I need to push further to the front (yes, I do want to run another one, even though on those last kilometers I was thinking I'd had enough).

I also need to prepare better: gear-wise — the shoes could have been better, for one — and physically, and mentally. If I hadn't woken up at 5 in the morning, maybe I would've made sub-4. We'll keep trying!