It starts with a message from a mate: “There’s a 10K next weekend. You in?”
You haven’t run in weeks. Or months. Possibly years. But something in your brain, possibly the same bit that once thought Jägerbombs were a good idea, says “Sure, how bad can it be?”
And just like that, you’re signed up. Bib collected. Strapped into a pair of runners you last wore in the Before Times. Ready to rediscover your limits the hard way.
Here’s what happens next:
1. You Start Way Too Fast Because You Forgot What You’re Capable Of (i.e. Not This)
The gun goes. The crowd surges. You’re caught up in the chaos. Your ego, fuelled by stale memories of that one PB from 2018, convinces you you’ve still got it.
You hit kilometre one at an unsustainable pace, feel momentarily invincible, and then watch your soul evacuate your body at kilometre two.
The rest of the race is spent negotiating with your own lungs.
2. Your Legs Turn to Pudding at a Deeply Inconvenient Point
Untrained legs don’t ask politely. They don’t say “excuse me, I’d prefer a rest.” They simply seize up like you’ve offended them on a spiritual level.
It might happen halfway through. It might be five minutes in. Either way, you’ll suddenly feel like each leg weighs 40 kilos and has been replaced with a bag of disgruntled cement.
Spectators will cheer. You’ll smile through the pain like a hostage blinking in Morse code.
3. Your Stomach Has No Idea What’s Going On
You skipped breakfast. Or you didn’t. Either way, your gut’s having a meltdown.
Suddenly you remember why pre run fuelling is a thing. The banana feels like it’s doing laps in your oesophagus. The jelly baby you panic ate at the start line is now staging a rebellion.
You’re not sure whether you’re going to be sick or cry. Possibly both. At the same time.
4. You Have an Out of Body Experience Around 75% In
Not in a good way. Not in a “I feel free and powerful” kind of way. No, this is the type where you’re so wrecked that you feel like you're watching your own suffering from above.
You become acutely aware of your feet. Your sweat. Your breathing. The fact that that elderly man in denim is walking faster than your current pace.
You question everything: your life choices, your hobbies, and whether running is actually for you. (It is. Just… maybe not today.)
5. The DOMS Hit Like a Articulated Lorry (and Linger for Days)
You cross the finish line. You’re briefly euphoric. You even say something like “I should do that more often.”
Cut to the next morning: you can’t walk. Sitting is a challenge. Stairs are an enemy. Every time you move, your body reminds you: you did no training for this and now you must pay.
Three days later, you're still limping like you’ve done a week in the army.
Final Word
Winging it can be fun. In theory. But racing without training is a humbling experience, best served with a side of utter regret and very stiff hamstrings.
Sure, you might survive it. You might even enjoy parts of it. But next time, maybe do one training run beforehand. Just one. For the legs. For the lungs. For your dignity.
Because muscle memory can only carry you so far and it usually taps out around 4K.