The Marathon Bible
$19
inish your first marathon in 16 weeks. Without getting hurt, hitting the wall, or guessing what tuesday is for.
Two marathon plans in one phone-sized book, written by a run coach who started three times before it stuck.
This is for you if:
You’ve booked a marathon (or you’re about to) and you’re a bit scared of it
You can run 10km and you run three or four times a week
You want someone to tell you what to do on tuesday, and why
It isn’t for you if you can’t run 10km yet. Run a half first. 42.2km doesn’t do shortcuts and I’d rather you came back in four months than quit in week nine.
What’s inside
The 16-week plan: starts at a 10km long run, builds to 32km, then tapers. Every fourth week backs off on purpose.
The 12-week plan: same peak, same taper, shorter runway, for when you’ve already got a 30km week in your legs.
Every session explained in plain english: what it is, how hard it should feel, and why it’s there.
An effort chart on every run, colour-matched to the zones on your watch.
The count-back page, so you know which week you’re in today.
Fuel: before, during, after, and the one rule for race day.
The wall, and how to not hit it. (It’s a pacing problem. Mostly.)
Race day, kilometre by kilometre.
What to do when you miss a run, miss a week, or feel a niggle.
137 pages. Read it on the way to the park.
Also in the box
The start-here chapter for anyone whose brain is a toddler about this
Clubhouse, 7 days free: the Sparkies app, the tribe, a run a month, and every plan I’ve written
The guarantee
Read the first chapter. If it’s not for you, email me and I’ll refund it. No form, no questions.
Questions people actually ask
I’ve never run a marathon. That’s who the 16-week plan is for.
I’ve only got 12 weeks. If you’re on 30km a week, the 12-week plan is in the book. If you’re not, pick a later race. I mean it.
I’m slow. The plan never asks for a pace. It asks for an effort.
Do I run 42km in training? No. The long run tops out at 32. The rest comes from the taper and the crowd.
A$19. Less than the socks you’ll race in, about a tenth of the entry fee you’ve already paid.