Australia / Sydney / 26–30 Aug 2026

Race week

Five days, all about one Sunday morning: getting there, an easy run, picking up a number with my name on it, lying very still, then forty-two kilometres.

TCS Sydney Marathon
World Marathon Major
Bib 17821
Wave start 6:50
6 hours 22 minutes

Short version: I signed up because my gym friends were going, I didn’t train, and the course was hillier than I expected. You can see all three in the finish time.

Runner in a white and maroon singlet giving a thumbs up while crossing the Sydney Harbour Bridge among other marathon runners — On the Harbour Bridge, early enough to still be enjoying it. The only photo of the day where I look like I know what I’m doing. Official race photograph.

Sydney is a World Marathon Major, and I picked it because it’s the closest one to Indonesia.

Not a very inspiring reason, but it’s the real one. My gym friends were going. It was their fifth or sixth major. It was my first anything.

“Didn’t train much” makes it sound better than it was, so here are the details. Work took the year. My actual training was the last two or three weeks: running two or three times a week, longest run 10km. For a 42km race.

Arrival

The race gets real

A marathon ad in the arrivals hall, four days out.

Shakeout

Five easy kilometres

Out to Macquarie Point with people who knew what they were doing.

Day before

Coffee and a letdown

The pastries I’d talked myself into for weeks.

Race day

Forty-two kilometres

Hard from basically the start. That’s what skipping the training gets you.

It got hard from basically the start, not at 30km like it’s supposed to. That’s what three weeks of training gets you.
Race day, 30 August

26–27 Aug

Eight hours in Singapore. Turns out that was practice

The trip out went Jakarta–Singapore–Sydney with an eight-hour transit in the middle. An eight-hour layover is boring and I won’t pretend otherwise. That’s the price of the cheaper route.

Departure hall at Soekarno-Hatta airport in Jakarta in the evening — The last easy part of the trip, and I didn’t know it.

City and river seen from an aircraft window on the descent — Somewhere on the descent. Now it’s real.

TCS Sydney Marathon advertising stand in the airport arrivals area — You land, you see this, and the entry email in your inbox is suddenly something that’s going to happen to your legs.

Empty carriage on the Sydney airport train in the evening — Into the city around six or seven. Dinner was McDonald’s takeaway in the hotel room. Not how a food trip is supposed to start.

28 Aug

Five kilometres with people who knew what they were doing

Shakeout run with my gym friends, out toward Macquarie Point, about 5km. They’re the reason I was in Sydney at all. I turned back before they did because I had a race pack to collect.

Runner in a singlet and tights standing on the harbour path with the Opera House and Harbour Bridge behind — Standing where the path turns, pretending my legs feel great. They felt fine. Not the same thing.

Sydney Opera House and the Harbour Bridge framed by overhanging trees — Best photo I took all week, and I took it while catching my breath.

Sydney Tower rising above trees and lawn in Hyde Park under a clear sky — Back through Hyde Park. Late August gave us this sky most days.

Sydney Marathon branded column printed with columns of participant names — Pack collection at Sydney Showground, late morning into early afternoon. My name on a wall. Slightly alarming, given the training hadn’t happened.

29 Aug

Coffee, one disappointing pastry, and lying very still

Morning coffee at Alma. Then AP House, where the pastries were the letdown of the day. I’d built them up and they didn’t deliver. Lunch at Tao, then back to the hotel to do nothing on purpose.

Empty Sydney train platform in morning light with the Harbour Bridge in the distance — Out early on the day I was supposed to stay off my feet.

Entrance to Alma cafe with planting outside and warm lighting inside — Coffee at Alma first. The rest of the morning is where it went sideways.

AP House Roastery and Bakery sign mounted on a concrete wall — The building is beautiful. It was the pastries that disappointed, not this.

Trolley rack of croissants, danishes and pastries behind glass — It looks like this. It doesn’t taste like this.

A croissant and a pain au chocolat in a takeaway box next to a coffee cup — Fine. Just fine. The day before a marathon, maybe that’s the right outcome. I still wanted more.

Cafe table with pastries, a slice of cake and iced drinks — The day before a marathon is mostly about not using up anything you’ll need tomorrow. I was better at this than at the training.

30 Aug

I ran my first marathon on three weeks of training. It went about as well as that sounds.

Left the hotel at 5am. Wave start at 6:50. Finished in 6 hours 22 minutes. The course was properly hilly, and I hadn’t planned for the hills because I hadn’t planned for anything. After: back to the hotel, then Doo Dee King for something light, then a proper dinner at Kagoshima Master Ultimo. Very good, and no photos, because by then I’d stopped taking any.

Race kit laid out in rows: cap, sunglasses, singlet, shorts, socks, gels and race bib 17821 — Five in the morning. Laying it all out was the one part I did properly.

Runners spread across a closed Sydney street under trees in bright sun — By here the crowd has thinned out and everyone is just grinding.

Runner in a white and maroon singlet filming on a phone while running through the finish area — Coming into the finish, filming it, because after six hours my phone was the only thing I could still operate. Official race photograph.

Finisher selfie holding a TCS Sydney Marathon medal by the water with the Opera House behind — Twenty minutes after finishing, still in the cap, not able to process it yet.

Worth it?

Yes. I’m still not satisfied with that time, but I finished a major on almost no preparation and I’m glad about that. I know exactly why the number looks like that. The next one I train for properly.

What didn’t work

The training, obviously. Mostly the hills. A 10km longest run tells you nothing about what a hilly 42km does to your legs at kilometre 25. That one’s on me.