Well, it finally happened — my first half marathon in 18 months, and it felt so good to have a number on my chest again. The Scottish Half gave me exactly what I wanted: a proper slog, a solo effort from gun to tape, and that familiar ache that reminds you why this distance feels like home. I ran 72.49 for 18th place, into a headwind along the coastal road that made every mile feel earned.
It wasn’t perfect, and I don’t think I expected it to be. But it was progress, and after everything, progress is exactly what I needed to see. A year ago I was in a cast, on a peg leg, hobbling about on double crutches and genuinely wondering how long it would take before I felt like myself again. Today was proof the rebuild is working. The ankle isn’t something I think about any more — it’s just a memory now, tucked away for the moments when the legs need digging into.
Running for Barnsley Athletic Club again with a race bib on has reminded me how much I missed the graft of the half marathon specifically. It’s not the marathon, it’s not a 5k, it’s that in-between distance where you have to hurt properly for over an hour and still hold your form. Getting back to that has been the real marker for me.
There’s more detail on how the race actually played out in the video, so have a watch if you want the full story of the day — the wind, the effort, and how it felt crossing that line again after so long away. Just keep running, as always.
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