Eight years ago, the Ipswich Half Marathon was my very first half marathon. Where does the time go? I ran 79:36 that day, and I still remember it as one of the hardest and most humbling challenges of my life. Back then, 16-year-old me was chasing one goal: to emulate my dad, who ran a 78-minute half. That was all I wanted going into the race.
Since then, I've experienced so much in this sport — highs like running a 2:24 marathon, and lows that tested me in ways I couldn't imagine. Returning to Ipswich this year was something I'd been looking forward to. It's a tough course, but one that holds so many memories.
I didn't taper for this race, but I knew that a sub-70 was possible on a good day. My dream was to beat my PB of 70:44 and, if everything clicked, maybe even claim the win.
I settled into a rhythm, hitting 3:11/km splits one after another, completely solo at the front with a sizable gap behind me. Freston Hill hit just as hard as I remembered, but I stayed strong. I knew I was on for a fast time and dug deep over the last 6km into the wind.
In the final 200m, I could hardly believe what was happening. Everything felt surreal as I crossed the line first — official time 68:58.
Running can be a lonely and demanding sport most of the time, but days like today make it all worthwhile. Everything clicked, the solo effort felt incredible, and the crowd support was phenomenal. Honestly, this was probably the best running day of my life.
Now it's full focus on the next few weeks of hard training before the Frankfurt Marathon. Confidence is building, and that magical 2:20 barrier is starting to feel within reach.