Milton Keynes Marathon Reflections

This weekend was all about the marathon, with the event centred around the stadium in Milton Keynes. It marked a return to the distance for me — my first marathon since 2012 — and it turned out to be far more than just a race.

The Course

The route itself was an interesting one, largely made up of two laps. The opening lap was understandably congested, with a mass start that combined marathon runners, relay teams and half marathon participants. As is often the case nowadays, some runners had positioned themselves in the wrong starting zones, which, combined with a number of pinch points along the course, led to a few frustrating hold-ups early on.

Milton Keynes offers a varied running terrain, and the course reflected that. It took us across a mix of surfaces — roads, gravel paths, canal towpaths and even a section of boardwalk. The town’s many roundabouts translated into a steady rhythm of climbs and descents as we passed over bridges and underpasses. Two more notable climbs came at miles 9 and 25, testing the legs at key points in the race.

That said, the course never felt monotonous. There was always something changing — scenery, surface, or elevation — which kept it engaging throughout. Once the half marathon runners peeled away after the first lap, the second half of the race became noticeably quieter. That shift in atmosphere actually worked in my favour, allowing me to settle into a rhythm without the constant need to weave through crowds.

The Experience

The medal carried a playful nod to the date — May the 4th — with a Star Wars theme. In true Milton Keynes fashion, it also featured the iconic cow, this time sporting a Darth Vader helmet and lightsabre. A nice touch, and a reminder that these events are as much about personality as they are performance.

While I did achieve a personal best, that’s not really the main story here , or at least no more than a junior partner. Times, for me, are often the least interesting part of running. What matters more is the journey — how you prepare, how you approach the race, and what you experience along the way.

Gratitude and Perspective

As I ran, particularly in the later stages when passing runners who were clearly struggling, I found myself reflecting on preparation and perspective. I was grateful I had taken the training seriously. But more than that, I found myself asking a different question: not “What did I achieve?” but “What am I grateful for?”

In this case, I’m grateful for the ability to do hard things, by the grace of God.

I’m also deeply grateful to be part of a community of people who do hard things — often alongside demanding professional lives, caring responsibilities, personal loss, or recovery from illness or injury. Some are navigating the after-effects of chemotherapy; others are balancing training with raising families or supporting loved ones.

And yet, they show up.

Some go even further — taking on ultramarathons, triathlons, or deciding that a marathon in daylight simply isn’t enough, choosing instead to run through the night.

What unites this community isn’t pace or performance, but a shared willingness to embrace challenge. “Hard” is not something that needs ranking or qualifying. There’s no need to say “very hard” or “incredibly hard”. Hard is relative. It belongs to the individual experiencing it — and that is enough.

Final Thoughts

So, rather than focusing on finishing times or splits, I finish this weekend with a sense of appreciation.

I raise a metaphorical glass to the community I’m proud to be part of: Dereham Runners AC.

We do hard things. .