3:58:15. The Marathon That Broke Me Open

On Sunday, I ran the Zurich Rock’n’Roll Madrid Marathon.
I finished in 3 hours, 58 minutes, and 15 seconds — just under my goal of sub-4.

And I thought that number, that time, would be the story. But it wasn’t.

Because what happened within that 3:58:15 taught me more about myself than anything I’ve done in my life.

And it might just help you, too.

Rewind a few months.

I attempted a marathon back in December. Trained hard. Showed up ready.
But freezing weather, snow and ice meant I couldn’t finish.
DNF. Didn’t even get the chance to try. Frozen out.

That crushed me more than I let on. People did finish in the weather. I couldn’t.

So I went straight back into training. No rest. No reset. Just pure drive.

I had to prove something to myself.
That I wasn’t a quitter. That I could see this through.
That I was the person I believed I could be.

But Madrid didn’t make it easy.

By 8km, my legs were heavy. My quads felt heavy as fuck.
By 25km, my confidence collapsed. I wasn’t chasing sub-4 anymore. I was just trying to survive.

Everything hurt.
But worse, my mind hurt. Doubt crept in fast.

It was just me, the road, and a voice in my head saying,
"You’re done. You can’t do this. Just walk."

But I knew I had one tool left.
Not fitness. Not speed. Not strength.

Strategy.

I broke it down into 1km blocks. Run hard. Walk 15–20 seconds. Breathe. Repeat.
I took it step by step.
Not because it was ideal, but because it was all I had left.

And with 2km to go, I had 12 minutes to get home.
I saw the 4-hour pacer ahead of me.
I found something in me I didn’t think was still there.
And I sprinted. Fast. Desperate. Defiant.

3:58:15. Just made it.

Then I cried. Hard.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t talk. Just sobbed.
Right there at the finish line, I felt every ounce of pressure, exhaustion, and emotion rush out of me.
Years of high standards. Months of training. Hours of self-doubt. Gone.

And it was beautiful.

And then… Monday happened.

Madrid had a massive power cut.
No money. No food. No trains.
We were stranded 6km from our apartment.

So on legs that felt like a new born Giraffe, I walked.
6km. In the sun. After a marathon.
No nutrition. No recovery. Just grit.

I laughed through the pain. Because life doesn’t care that you just ran a marathon.

But here’s what I learned, and maybe what you need to hear too.

💥 Progress doesn’t come from comfort. It comes from discomfort, strategy, patience, and bloody-minded persistence.

💥 Your body will scream. Your mind will whisper. But the part of you that finishes is the one that keeps showing up even when neither wants to.

💥 There’s no perfect moment. There’s only the moment you choose to act. Even when you're undertrained, under-fueled, and unsure.

💥 It’s okay to doubt yourself. Just don’t let it be the loudest voice in the room.

💥 You learn more from the hardest reps. Whether it’s in the gym, on the road, or in life.

And here's the truth: I’m a better coach because of this.

Because I know what it’s like to struggle now.
To cry in the quiet moments.
To stare down a goal that seems impossible.
To want to give up, and keep going anyway.

If you're chasing your own marathon, literal or not, I get it.
Whether it’s fat loss, strength, consistency, or getting back to feeling like yourself… I can help.

I coach people through these exact challenges.

Not just with workouts or plans.
But with mindset, strategy, and the support you need when it all feels too hard.

If you want that kind of coaching, real, raw, and rooted in experience, I’ve got space right now for a handful of new clients.

Hit reply to this email. Tell me where you're at.
We’ll figure out where you need to go — and I’ll help you get there.

Let’s build something that matters.

Catch you next week,

Blaine

Lead Coach and Founder of BCPerformance