Britain’s Most Beautiful Marathon – Ketogenic Endurance

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Check out my video of the race on YouTube

Ah, the allure of Kielder Marathon, dubbed Britain’s most beautiful marathon, had me dreaming of pristine trails for months. But as me luck would have it, a twisted ankle in August threw a spanner in the works. Six weeks of no running had me more stationary than a parked car at Tesco’s. So, as the marathon day dawned misty and mystical, the butterflies in me stomach were fluttering wilder than a colliery banner in a storm.

Now, I’ve always fancied meself more of a completer than a competitor, especially with that wonky ankle. But the cut-off time had me biting me nails, even considering they were cut short for the occasion. However, me fears were as unfounded as a sun-tan in a British winter. With a finishing time of 5 hours and 55 minutes, I didn’t just cross the finish line; I pranced across it with time to spare. I was chuffed to bits, I was!

The start was as misty as a scene from Wuthering Heights, but as the day trotted along, it got warmer, mirroring the warmth and cheer of the stellar volunteers around the course. They were the real McCoy, those folks, encouraging every sweaty, panting soul that huffed and puffed past them.

The organisation was tighter than a new pair of running shoes, and the camaraderie among runners was enough to melt the heart of a Geordie coal miner. Now, calling it Britain’s most beautiful marathon is a bold shout, but trotting alongside the serene waters, with the sun casting long, shimmering reflections, I reckon it’s a shout well made. It was like running in a painting, only with more sweat and less sitting around.

As I pounded down those final miles, each stride was a tale of triumph over adversity, of a bloke and his dodgy ankle conquering the scenic trails of Kielder. And as I crossed that finish line, the sweet taste of achievement was better than a sip of Newcastle Brown Ale.

So, come along on this marathon adventure, where every mile was a testament to the indomitable human spirit, and every view was a feast for sore eyes, and sore legs! And hey, if I can do it with a gammy ankle, and a dose of Geordie grit, what’s stopping you?

Join me on this jaunt, and let’s relive the moments of elation, exhaustion, and exquisite views, together! Be sure to hit that like button, share the love and subscribe for more tales of adventure, blisters, and the beautiful British outdoors!

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