Author: melisajohnson

Lewa Marathon: A Lesson in the Mental Side of Racing

We traveled to Lewa for the marathon full of excitement, but race day didn’t go as planned.

We arrived at camp a few days before the event, hoping to be rested and ready. Unfortunately, the conditions made it difficult to get quality sleep leading up to the race. Faced with the choice between sleeping a little longer or fueling properly, I chose sleep—skipping dinner on both nights before the marathon. Looking back, I think that was the wrong decision.

By the time we made the walk to the start line, I felt something I had never experienced before a race: nausea from nerves. It caught me off guard and was an early sign that I wasn’t in the right headspace.

Once the race started, the course itself wasn’t the problem. I had been concerned about the hills, trails, and terrain, but they never really bothered me. Even the temperature was manageable. Physically, I felt capable.

Mentally was a different story.

By the second mile, I wanted to quit. Not because I felt bad physically or because the race was too difficult—I simply felt mentally exhausted. Every step felt like a battle against my own thoughts rather than the course in front of me.

Around mile eight, I finally realized I had been letting my mind dictate the day. At that point, I made a conscious decision to stop fighting the race and start enjoying it. I slowed down, took my time, even stopped for a shot of tequila, and focused on appreciating the experience instead of chasing a result.

In the end, the marathon became less about performance and more about perspective.

While I’m disappointed in myself, it isn’t because of my physical fitness. Physically, I was capable of running the marathon. The disappointment comes from knowing that my mindset got the better of me. On this day, the biggest challenge wasn’t the course—it was the battle happening between my ears.

That said, every race teaches something. Lewa reminded me that marathon success isn’t just about training the body; it’s also about training the mind. Sometimes the hardest lessons come from the races that don’t go according to plan, and those lessons are often the ones that stay with us the longest.

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Little bit of London

We landed in London and, after a quick stop at the hotel to drop off our bags, settled in with a proper cup of tea. Then it was off for a Saturday morning walk around my favorite city.

On Sunday, I was up early for a fun run through Kensington and Hyde Park, enjoying a beautiful morning in one of London’s most iconic green spaces. I followed it with a long lunch and great conversation with one of my best friends from Singapore, who happened to be in London for work.

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A Morning That Reminded Me Why I Run

There’s a moment in every marathon cycle when the miles shift from something you do to something you feel. That moment hit me this past weekend as I wrapped up my final long run — the one that closes the chapter on the grind and opens the door to taper.

But then came this morning.

Today’s run wasn’t long, but it was beautiful in a way that felt almost symbolic. The sky lit up in those deep oranges and soft pinks that only happen when the world is still waking up. The streets were quiet and everything felt unhurried — like the universe was giving me a gentle nod that I’m exactly where I need to be.

It wasn’t about pace or distance. It was about presence. About soaking in the calm after months of pushing. About remembering that running isn’t just training — it’s joy, it’s clarity, it’s connection.

That sunrise felt like a reward.

This past weekend’s long run still sits with me. It was the kind of run that tests you, then quietly tells you that you’ve passed. The legs were tired but strong, the mind steady, the rhythm familiar. Somewhere in those miles, I realized: I’m ready. Not perfect — but prepared in the way that matters.

And now, taper begins.

These next few weeks are about trust. Trusting the training, trusting the body, trusting the process. The mileage drops, but the anticipation rises. It’s a strange mix of restlessness and relief — less running, more imagining the start line waiting for me in Kenya.

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Finding Strength in Stillness: Adding Barre to My Running Routine

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been adding Barre workouts into my training to supplement my running, and it’s been a surprisingly refreshing shift. These classes are definitely not the type of workouts I’m used to — no pounding pavement, no long miles, no finish‑line countdown. But that’s exactly why they’re starting to feel so valuable.

At first, I wasn’t sure how Barre would fit into my routine. It’s slower, more controlled, and way more focused on tiny movements than anything I normally do. But somewhere along the way, I realized I was actually enjoying the classes. They challenge me in a completely different way, and I can feel them working muscles I usually ignore.

What’s really stood out is how much they’re helping with my balance and core strength, two things that matter more for running than I ever gave them credit for. I might not leave class drenched in sweat, but I leave feeling stronger, more aligned, and more aware of how my body moves. And honestly, I think it’s already improving my running — especially on days when my form starts to fall apart.

It’s been a good reminder that not every workout has to be intense to be effective. Sometimes the quiet, controlled work does more for you than the miles themselves. And right now, Barre feels like exactly the kind of support my running needs.

If you’re curious about how cross‑training can support running, exploring strength for runners or core stability work might be a good next step.

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Hydration, Sodium, and a 13.5‑Mile Reality Check

With the Kenya race coming up in just 40 days, I’ve been trying to unravel what really happened with my hydration and fueling during the London Marathon. I knew something was off that day, but I didn’t have the numbers to understand why things fell apart the way they did. So this week, I finally decided to get serious about it and started using an hDrop wearable on my runs to gather real data instead of guessing.

Today’s 13.5‑mile run gave me more insight than I expected — and honestly, more than I was prepared for.

According to the hDrop, I lost 1,783 mg of sodium during the run. Meanwhile, I only took in 1,200 mg, which means I was already in the red before I even hit double digits. No wonder things felt off toward the end. Sodium loss has always been a blind spot for me, but seeing the actual numbers made it impossible to ignore. This is officially a fueling issue I need to address before Kenya.

The water situation wasn’t much better. I lost 77.1 oz and only took in 54 oz. By the end of the run, my body was absolutely feeling that shortage — heavy legs, sluggish brain, that unmistakable “you’re running on fumes” sensation. I ended up cutting the run short by two miles because I ran out of both food and salt around mile 10. Not ideal, but also not surprising given the numbers.

The good news? Now I know. And knowing means I can fix it.

For recovery, I booked some time at the Sweat Houz, which turned out to be exactly what I needed. I spent an hour cycling between the infrared sauna, the cold plunge, and wrapped it all up with a vitamin‑C infused shower. It felt like hitting a reset button — physically and mentally. A small reminder that recovery is just as important as the miles themselves.

So the work continues. I’m dialing in my hydration plan, rethinking my sodium strategy, and making sure I’m not repeating the same mistakes in Kenya. Today’s run wasn’t perfect, but it was productive — and right now, that’s the win I needed.

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A Small Step Forward (Blisters Included)

After the London Marathon, I’ve been struggling to find my rhythm again. Part of it was the emotional hangover of a race that didn’t go quite the way I hoped. Part of it was physical — I genuinely wasn’t sure how my feet would hold up after the blisters, the bruising, and everything else they endured on race day.

So on Sunday, I decided to test things out with an easy run. Nothing ambitious, nothing structured. Just a gentle check‑in with my body to see where things stood.

And amazingly… it went better than expected.

My legs felt lighter than I thought they would. My breathing settled quickly. For the first time since the marathon, running felt like running again — not a chore, not a question mark, but something familiar and comforting.

Of course, because my feet love to keep things interesting, I did end up with another blister. At this point, I’m convinced my socks and shoes are conspiring against me. Clearly something needs to change before I start stacking more miles. Whether it’s new socks, different lacing, or a full shoe rethink, I’ll have to figure it out soon.

But honestly? Even with the blister, the run felt like a win. A reminder that progress doesn’t always show up in big, dramatic ways. Sometimes it’s just a quiet, steady step forward — one that tells you you’re going to be okay.

And right now, that’s exactly what I needed.

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London Might Be My Last Marathon — And I’m Surprisingly at Peace With That

I’m not ready to say it with absolute certainty, but I think the London Marathon may have been my last full marathon. The decision isn’t final, but the idea has been settling in quietly, the way a truth sometimes does long before you’re willing to say it out loud. I’ve already decided that when I’m in Kenya, I’ll be switching from the full marathon to the half — and honestly, that feels right.

What makes this harder is that my training leading up to London was incredible. One of my best cycles ever. I felt strong, consistent, and genuinely excited. I went into race day hoping for something special.

And in many ways, the day was special.

I started in the Team Green area, which felt like a little oasis before the chaos of the race. Hot tea, picnic tables, no bathroom lines — it was the calmest, most civilized marathon start I’ve ever experienced. I soaked it in, feeling grateful and ready.

The first ten-plus miles were everything I hoped for. My pace felt smooth, my legs felt good, and I was enjoying the energy around me. But then the heat crept in, and my fueling just didn’t keep up. By mile 15, things started to unravel. I was still enjoying the run, but my body wasn’t responding the way I needed it to. I had to walk big portions of the second half, and eventually I couldn’t take in any more food. Even water had to be taken in tiny sips.

Still, I made a choice: if I was going to finish, I wanted to finish strong. So I ran the last few miles, lifted my head, and crossed the line with a smile. And that smile was real. Despite everything, I genuinely enjoyed most of the race.

As for injuries? Nothing dramatic — just a sunburn, a few blisters, and one very bruised pinky toe. Honestly, that feels like a win.

So maybe London was my last marathon. Maybe it wasn’t. But if it was, I’m glad it was this one. A race that challenged me, humbled me, and still gave me joy. A race that reminded me why I started running in the first place — and why it’s okay to let the definition of “runner” evolve.

For now, I’m looking ahead to Kenya, to the half marathon, and to whatever comes next. Maybe the marathon chapter is closing. Maybe it’s just changing shape. Either way, I’m grateful for every mile.

#LondonMarathon #MarathonJourney #MarathonRunner #RunningCommunity #RunHappy #RunStrong #RunLondon #MarathonLife

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One Week to go

It’s officially one week until the London Marathon, and I’m feeling all the emotions. I’ve logged over 520 miles preparing for those 26.2 on race day — miles filled with discipline, doubt, breakthroughs, and a lot of determination.

No matter what happens next weekend, I’m proud of the work I’ve put in. Now it’s time to taper, breathe, and get ready for the big moment.

London, I’m coming for you.

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59 Days to London: Finding Strength in an 18‑Mile Run

With just 59 days until the London Marathon, today felt like a turning point — the kind of training day that reminds you why you signed up for this journey in the first place. I headed out for my longest run of the cycle so far, 18 miles, and finished feeling strong, steady, and surprisingly grateful.

Long runs have a way of stripping everything down to the essentials. It’s just you, your breath, the rhythm of your feet, and the quiet space to think. And with everything happening in the world — the uncertainty, the heaviness, the constant stream of headlines — being able to step outside and run for hours felt like a privilege I didn’t want to take for granted.

There was something grounding about it. Mile after mile, I kept coming back to the same thought: I get to do this. I get to move, to train, to chase a goal that once felt out of reach. I get to spend a morning outdoors, watching the sun rise higher, feeling the air shift, and letting my mind settle into a rare kind of calm.

Training for a marathon is never just about the miles. It’s about perspective. It’s about finding small pockets of clarity in a world that often feels anything but clear. It’s about choosing to show up — even when it’s hard, even when life feels loud, even when the finish line still feels far away.

Today’s 18 miles reminded me that progress isn’t always dramatic. Sometimes it’s simply the quiet confidence that comes from doing the work and realizing you’re stronger than you were a few weeks ago. And with 59 days to go, that strength matters.

There’s still plenty of training ahead, but today was a win — a reminder of resilience, gratitude, and the simple joy of being able to run.

#LondonMarathon2026

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Surviving Orlando’s Surprise Cold Snap: Two Days We Won’t Forget

If you’ve lived in Central Florida long enough, you know we get our share of chilly mornings — but every once in a while, Orlando throws us a curveball. The last two days were one of those rare moments when “Sunshine State” felt like a misnomer and we all collectively wondered whether we’d accidentally woken up in Canada.

What started as a brisk forecast quickly turned into a genuine freeze event. Temperatures dipped far lower than our tropical landscaping — or our nerves — were prepared for. And like many Floridians, we learned a few lessons the hard way.

The Plant Casualties

Let’s talk about the garden. Florida plants are resilient in their own way, but they’re not built for nights that flirt with freezing. When the cold settled in, it settled deep, and by morning it was clear that several of our plants didn’t make it through the night.

Tropical varieties took the biggest hit — leaves wilted, stems darkened, and some plants simply collapsed under the shock. It’s always tough to see landscaping not even a year old struggle. Some plants may regrow from the roots once warmer weather returns, so all hope isn’t lost.

Still, it’s a reminder that even in Orlando, a little freeze prep goes a long way.

The Frozen Tankless Water Heater Saga

The bigger surprise came from something we rarely think about: the tankless hot water heater mounted outside the garage. Tankless systems are efficient and compact, but they’re also vulnerable when temperatures drop below freezing. And that’s exactly what happened.

At some point during the night, the cold was enough to freeze the unit. Waking up to no hot water is a rude shock — especially when the air outside still feels like a refrigerator. It’s one of those moments where you realize how much we take warm water for granted until it’s suddenly gone.

Thankfully, once temperatures rose, the system thawed out. But it’s a lesson learned: even in Florida, exposed plumbing needs a little protection when the forecast dips into the danger zone.

Looking Ahead

Warmer days are already on the horizon, and soon this cold spell will be just another story we tell about “that one winter when Orlando tried to be a northern city.” The plants will hopefully recover, the heater will be insulated, and life will return to its usual sunny rhythm.

But for now, we’ve earned a hot cup of tea, a cozy blanket, and maybe a little pride for making it through Florida’s version of winter survival mode.

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