Barcelona Marathon: Expectation, Adaptation, and Just Keep Going

The Barcelona Marathon marked the first race of my year. That, in itself, was a big shift.

Last year, I raced over ten times. This year, I made a conscious decision to do less, to be more intentional, to choose races that mattered, and to prioritise arriving at the start line healthy. So far, that decision has paid off. I felt eager to race again, rather than fatigued by it, and most importantly, I stood on the start line uninjured.

A simple but powerful lesson: I don’t have to say yes to every opportunity.

Why Barcelona?

After the experience I had at the London Marathon last year, I had pretty much sworn off road marathons altogether. That race felt like torture—injured seven weeks out, followed by COVID and an asthma flare-up. It was survival rather than running.

I told myself I’d stick to trails.

But then Barcelona came up through work, and with it, a bigger purpose: fundraising for Changes Bristol.

Fundraising, I’ve learned, is tough. With more people running for charity and the ongoing cost of living crisis, people aren’t just fatigued from giving—they often simply don’t have the means. That made every single donation feel even more meaningful. I’m genuinely grateful for everyone who contributed and the impact it will have.

Settling Into Race Week

I spent the days leading into the race in Tarragona with an old university friend—about an hour from Barcelona. That decision made a huge difference. Instead of the usual pre-race chaos, I was able to settle, relax, and even enjoy a bit of a holiday.

One thing that really stood out? The sun.

After weeks of grey skies and rain in Wales, the warmth hit differently. You forget how much of an impact that can have—not just physically, but mentally too.

The Expo Experience

The expo itself was smooth and well organised. Bib collection was quick, and the longest queue was for the obligatory pre-race photo.

However, there was a strange issue: t-shirt sizing. By the time I got there, most sizes were gone leaving only men’s small. For a race of this scale, it felt odd that sizing wasn’t collected during registration to better match supply and demand.

It hinted at assumptions about what a “typical” marathon runner looks like. That said, it’s just a t-shirt and not something worth letting affect the race experience.

Simplifying Nutrition

This time around, I changed my approach to carb loading.

Previously, I’d followed more traditional strategies of multiple large carb-heavy meals that often left me feeling bloated and sluggish. Instead, I simplified things:

• Carb-focused meals without overdoing portion sizes

• Added snacks and sweets

• Swapped water for a high-carb hydration drink

The result? I still hit my carb targets but felt lighter and more comfortable going into race day.

Race Day: The Highs and the Turning Point

Race morning brought sunshine and excitement. I felt ready—proper taper, no injuries, nutrition dialled in. My goal was 5:15, but more than anything, I wanted to run to feel.

And for the first 12 miles, everything clicked.

I was ahead of pace, heart rate low, body relaxed. It felt sustainable.

Until it didn’t.

A sudden pop in my calf stopped me in my tracks.

I walked. My mind spiralled:

• How bad is it?

• Can I finish?

• Should I stop?

• Will I make my flight?

Then came the bigger question: What about the people who donated?

I hadn’t come this far not to finish.

At that moment, I looked down at my wrist. My daughter had made me a bracelet for the race. On it, she’d written: “Keep going.”

That was enough.

I took some pain relief, adjusted my plan, and shifted into a walk-run strategy—aiming to stay under 14-minute miles.

Adapting and Pushing Through

After a few miles, something shifted. The pain didn’t disappear, but I adapted to it. My stride changed, my expectations changed but I kept moving forward.

By mile 20, I realised something surprising:

I was still on track to beat my original goal time.

That realisation carried me home.

The Barcelona Experience

The course itself is stunning, taking in landmarks like the Sagrada Família and it’s flat, making it a genuinely fast route.

The support on the course was incredible. While I’ll admit hearing your name shouted out for miles on end can become… repetitive, the energy and intent behind it never goes unnoticed.

Hydration was plentiful, if anything, too plentiful for me. In an effort to avoid dehydration with the heat, I found myself needing the toilet at nearly every station, which became more of a challenge as facilities disappeared later in the race due to being full. Let’s just say I had more “outdoor stops” in Barcelona than I ever have during any UK trail ultra I have done.

The Finish

Running into the Arc de Triomf was special. A proper, celebratory finish line.

But the real victory?

Despite everything; the injury, the uncertainty, the change in plan, I crossed the line faster than I had set out to. The amazing start created enough of a cushion that the set back didn't matter. You could also make a case that the fast start may have contributed to the injury but I will never know.

The Final Marathon: Getting Home

Finishing the race wasn’t the end of the challenge.

With a 9:50am start and a 6pm flight, there was no time to relax. I hobbled (with purpose) back to the hotel, grabbed my bag, jumped in a taxi, and made it to the airport.

Two hours on a plane, an energy drink, and a three-hour drive later, I was home.

Exhausted, sore, but lying in my own bed wondering:

Did that actually happen?

Final Thoughts

Barcelona reminded me of something important.

Not every race goes to plan. In fact, some of the most meaningful ones don’t.

But adapting, staying connected to your “why,” and to just keep going... that’s where the real value lies.

And sometimes, even when everything goes wrong… things still go right.