Published: 05/10/2026 | By: Emma Kirk-Odunubi
Sixteen marathons in, Emma Kirk-Odunubi has learned a thing or two about how to run a marathon. One of them is that getting to the start line ready isn’t about perfect training – it’s about consistency. In this piece, our running ambassador shares what actually matters, from long runs and pacing to strength, recovery and race-day preparation.* Got 26.2 miles in your future? You’re in the right place. Read on.*
I'm writing this with a week to go before the Sydney Marathon, which means I'm in that strange, twitchy phase where the hard work is done and my job is mostly to not undo it. It's my 17th marathon, and if there's one thing all sixteen before it have taught me, it's that training for this distance is far less about heroics and far more about showing up sensibly, again and again, until the fitness quietly arrives.
So, if you're eyeing up your first marathon, let me walk you through how to train for one without breaking yourself in the process.
A marathon is 26.2 miles, and there's no clever shortcut around that number. Your body needs time to adapt to the demand, which is why most beginners want somewhere between sixteen and twenty weeks, ideally sitting on a base of steady running first. If you can comfortably run three or four times a week already, you're in a lovely spot to begin a proper marathon training plan.
The single biggest thing I'd tell my younger self is that consistency beats perfection every time. You do not need to nail every session. You need to keep turning up. My Sydney build has been living proof of that. I fell the day before London this spring, hit both knees on concrete, and had to rebuild from there. Not a single week has looked like the neat plan I drew up in a spreadsheet, and I'm still going to that start line fit. Plans bend. That's allowed.
A balanced week has a few reliable ingredients: your weekly mileage, one long run, easy and recovery runs, a tempo or marathon-pace session, some interval work, a little strength training, and, crucially, rest days. The art is in how they fit together.
Mileage and long-run distance should creep up gradually rather than leaping. Not every week needs to be harder than the last, and honestly, some of your best weeks will be the ones where you back off and let the body absorb the work. A typical week for me is one quality session, one long run, a couple of easy runs and two strength sessions, all arranged around real life, travel and tiredness. When life gets loud, the plan flexes. It doesn't get abandoned.
If you're wondering what that actually looks like in practice, a typical week might be:
A quality session on Tuesday (tempo runs, intervals, marathon-pace session or a hill session)
An easy run on Wednesday
Strength on Thursday
Another easy run on Friday
A rest day or short shakeout on Saturday
And, finally, your long run on Sunday.
The exact days don't matter nearly as much as giving the harder sessions enough space between them. Your week needs to work for your life, because the best training plan is the one you can actually stick to.
If you're starting from a relatively modest running base, don't feel as though you need to jump straight into huge distances. Your long run might begin at eight or ten miles and gradually build from there, with easier cutback weeks sprinkled through the programme.
The important thing is the gradual accumulation of time on your feet. You don't get fitter because every Sunday is a test of your limits. You get fitter because your body repeatedly experiences a manageable training load, adapts to it, and then does a little more. There is no prize for reaching 20 miles if the cost is arriving at race day exhausted or injured.
In my book Find Your Pace, I talk about running by feel using RPE, or rate of perceived exertion, which is just a simple scale of how hard something feels. It's the antidote to the most common beginner mistake, which is running easy days far too fast.
Easy runs build your aerobic engine and should feel genuinely easy, the sort of effort where you can hold a conversation. That's the talk test, and it's your best friend. Tempo runs teach you to hold a sustained, comfortably hard effort. Marathon-pace sessions rehearse your race rhythm. Intervals sharpen speed and efficiency. The point isn't to run everything flat out. It's to understand why each session exists and run it at the right effort.
If I could only keep one type of session, it would be the long run. This is where endurance and, just as importantly, confidence are built. Keep most of them at a controlled effort, add the odd stretch at marathon pace as you get fitter, and treat every long run as a dress rehearsal. Practise your fuelling, your hydration and the exact kit you'll wear. You never need to run the full 26.2 in training; the max I've ever gone to is 22 miles. You just need to teach your body and your head that the distance is survivable.
Long runs are also where you learn how to pace yourself when you're tired. The temptation is always to bank time early in a marathon, particularly when you feel fresh, but the marathon has a very long memory. The first few miles should feel almost suspiciously easy. Save something for later and you'll give yourself a chance to actually race the final 10K rather than simply survive it.
For a deeper dive into marathon pacing, I’ve written a guide to pacing the London Marathon, breaking down how to approach the race section by section and why restraint early on matters so much. It's well worth a read if you're preparing for London or simply want to understand the thinking behind pacing and fuelling a marathon.
Two short strength sessions a week, focused on glutes, calves, hamstrings and core, will do more for your resilience than any gadget. Recovery is part of training, not a break from it, so protect your sleep, eat enough, and learn the difference between ordinary training fatigue and pain that's trying to tell you something.
On kit, comfort trumps hype every single time. Whatever shoes you race in, test them over plenty of runs first. I've made a late call to race Sydney in the New Balance SuperComp Rebel with a lower, more planted ride because it's kinder to a niggle I've been managing, and I'd never have known that without miles in them. Nothing on race day should be new.
The taper is probably the part of marathon training that feels most uncomfortable psychologically. Suddenly you're doing less, your legs feel strange, and there's a little voice asking whether you've forgotten how to run. You haven't. The fitness is already in the bank. Your job now is to arrive fresh, not squeeze in one last heroic session.
Plan your logistics, lay everything out the night before, eat a familiar breakfast, start patiently and break the race into chunks. Then trust the work.
My most important piece of advice for your first marathon is this: preparation doesn't need to be perfect to be enough. Mine never is, and I keep crossing the line anyway.