VALENCIA MARATHON

Over recent years I have listened to Australian runners enthusiastically describe the magic of the Valencia Marathon, always with the closing line “you have to do it one day”. At 8:15 on Sunday the 7^th of December 2025, it was time to experience it for myself!

DON’T BE AFRAID TO HURT A BIT

My alarm was due to go off at 4:45am but I was awake at 4am and ready to rise. Despite feeling more nervous than usual I had been sleeping quite well since arriving in Spain a week earlier. I sent quick messages to Dylan as well as my Trengove family chat to say that I was awake and ready, knowing that it would be Sunday afternoon at home in Adelaide. As always, they had all played an integral role in my preparation for this race. From their sincere words of encouragement in the days leading up to the race, to their hands on support at home whilst I was away and everything in between, I knew I couldn’t be in a position to take on the challenge ahead without their wholehearted support. I was happy with my preparation for this race and had a strong desire to capitalise on this opportunity.

After a quick shower I pulled on my new lululemon race kit, pinned on my race bib and threw on my tracksuit before giving Dylan and the kids a quick FaceTime call. Billy excitedly showed me the paper planes he had made that day and Ellie was napping. Seeing their faces eased some of my nervous tension. When I asked Dyl for some final words of wisdom her responded, “Don’t be afraid to hurt a bit”. He must have known the main source of my nerves for this race was the pain (both mental and physical) that I expected to experience. My goal was to go for it and explore my limits, which came with unknowns. He was right though; whilst I needed to be prepared for some discomfort, I didn’t need to be afraid of it.

Before heading to the dining area for breakfast I spent a few minutes rolling on a tennis ball to massage my muscles. I decided to listen to some tunes and topping my Spotify playlist was ‘I believe I can fly’. I had looked up this song up for Billy a couple of weeks earlier after hearing him singing some of the lyrics. He told me that he had learnt them from his classmates and on the way to school that day we cranked the tune. From my hotel room in Spain, this memory made me smile.

As I sunk the tennis ball into a tender point in my lateral glutes, the lyrics of this song floated around in my mind and stuck with me for the rest of the morning. Before leaving my room I wrote four words on my hand – Feel, Focus, Form, Fly. I planned to break the race roughly into quarters and would concentrate on a different word for each. This strategy helped to make the 42.195km distance less daunting.

YOU’LL MISS THESE NERVES ONE DAY

At 6:15am the invited athletes gathered in the lobby of the hotel. I looked around at the athletes, coaches and agents chatting amongst each other and wondered why I was feeling so nervous for this one. It was an uncomfortable feeling and I wanted to skip forward to the race start. I remembered a message from a friend and former-elite Athlete from the day beforehand, “You’ll miss these nerves one day".

The sun was yet to rise as we made our ten minute journey by foot to the race precinct. I walked beside U.S.A’s Keira D’Amato and enjoyed learning more about her life and race experiences to-date. The warm up area was in an underground car park and athletes groups were allocated a room each with a toilet and plenty of bottled water - perfect. I jogged a few laps with the Aussie athletes before stripping down to my race kit and changing shoes. Gen’s words during our warm up stuck with me; “Don’t worry if the pace feels a bit hard early on because the second half is easier. You just have to get yourself to 21kms.” 

I was sweating quite a lot and hoped that it would be cooler once we left the underground area. Fortunately it was. My team mate Haftu and I exchanged a couple of words of support before parting ways. We had spent the last week together in Madrid and Valencia and I felt very invested in his race. I had learnt valuable lessons from Haffie during our time together. I admired his calmness and ability to find a state of zen whilst running. I hoped to achieve this state of mind in my own race.

THE RACE PLAN

Valencia’s unique starting line was located on a bridge that ran between two stunning buildings. The buildings were modern in design and a colourful morning sunrise lit up the pools of water that surrounded them. The elite men started on one side of the bridge and the elite women on the other. I performed a few strides before lining up alongside fellow South Australian + room mate Izzi Batt-Doyle, Genevieve Gregson and Charlotte Purdue. Amongst the huddle I spotted one of the two male pacers for the 2h19-20 group and one for the 2h22 group. These pacers had been arranged by the race organisers and I didn’t know how many women would be following them. I hoped to average 3:21 pace which would put me somewhere between the two pace groups.

During a phone conversation with my coach Adam on race eve I said that I thought the 2h22 group would be my best option, with the hope that I could run a faster second half. He challenged my thinking and suggested I consider running with the faster pace group if I felt good. It was reassuring but also a bit daunting to hear the sincere belief in his words. We have been working together for seventeen years and I trust his opinion. We agreed that I would remain open to running with the faster group but would have to “feel it out” in the moment and trust my own judgement.

THE THUDDING BEAT OF A HEART

It wasn’t long before we were toeing the line. This highly-anticipated moment did not disappoint. The sound of a heart thudding echoed through the speakers as each athlete leant forward with a hand on their watch. It felt like we stood frozen in this position for half a minute before the gun fired and we were off. The first kilometre, as is typical of big Marathons, involved a fair bit of dodging and weaving to avoid getting knocked and to find a position in the pack where my pace matched those of the runners around me. It felt like we were a school of fish in a current as we rounded the early bends and fell into rhythm with our surroundings. 

Up ahead I could see a bright moon in the purple-tinged sky. It made me feel connected to home. The 2h19-20 pacers were about ten metres ahead of me. I sensed that I would have to overreach to try and catch them. It was clear from the deep and dense crowd of runners in this pace range that I would be in the company of others no matter what I did. In that moment, about 1km into the race, I decided to let the pacers go and run the pace that felt right for me. It was a freeing feeling.

DON’T OVERTHINK IT

I had heard runners describe the energy on the streets of Valencia on Marathon day but it can be hard to imagine what that means until you experience it. The thumping sound of drums fell into rhythm with my footsteps. I found myself staying present without having to work hard at it. Although the pace felt swift, it matched the effort I had practised so often in training. I glanced down towards my Garmin to check my second kilometre split – 3:19. This gave me a boost and I didn’t feel the need to check my watch again for a while.

One thing that stood out to me is that I wasn’t searching for mental strategies to spur me on, I was simply following the blue line on the road in front of me and listening to the beat of my surroundings. My body felt like it was moving efficiently and all I had to do was steer it. This reminded me of something that Dylan had said to me before I left home “Your heart and lungs are stronger than they’ve ever been. You have conditioned your muscles with quality mileage and paces. Resistance will be minimal out there in Valencia. You just need to feed your muscles. Let the chemical reaction and momentum take care of the rest.” There is a tendency to over-think in Marathon running and I found this simplistic view refreshing.

The drinks tables spanned over 500m and I was relieved to spot my allocated table (120) and to collect my bottle with ease. I took a few swigs of my Maurten drink mix and tossed my bottle to the side. The next few kilometres passed without too many thoughts going through my mind. There was so much happening around me – locals screaming “Vamos” with a fist pump, runners grabbing bottles from volunteers, supporters yelling “Go Jess & Izzi” and bikes rolling by with cameras. How did people know our names? There must have been a lot of Australians in Valencia for this event!

FUELLING

I had seen a temperature reading on a sign that read 17 degrees celcius. I felt a bit warm and consequently planned to drink slightly more than usual early on.  I saw Bryce Anderson (Australian Athletics sports dietitian) standing behind the 10km drinks tables. He shouted a couple of words of encouragement as I successfully plucked my bottle off the table and ripped off my Maurten gel. I gulped down the bottle's contents in two mouthfuls and took a few of swigs of my drink mix. I decided to check my Garmin as I crossed the ten kilometre mat – 33:30. I was happy with that.

The next five kilometres required more concentration than the last five. My word for this quarter was “focus” and I found myself thinking about how my feet were hitting the ground and my posture. I tried to be light on my feet, relaxed through my shoulders and even in my stride. I thought back to the Daegu Marathon, Paris Olympics and my most recent Marathon in Sydney – I was feeling more comfortable at this point in the race than I had in those three which was reassuring. We passed through a narrow section that reminded me of the Tour de France. We were the peloton. I was loving it.

At the 15km drink station I swooped in with confidence to collect my bottle and knocked it over. At this station I had planned to drink Maurten mix and given the warmer conditions, I did not want to miss this opportunity to drink. I immediately jammed on the brakes and went back to retrieve my bottle.

Photo credit: @athletepix

FREE SOLO

On my journey to Spain I watched ‘Free Solo’; a documentary about an American rock climber called Alex Honnold who scaled rock faces, often without any support ropes. I thought of his bravery, precision and the unsparing nature of his pursuits. The smallest of errors had serious consequences and I felt grateful that Marathon running was more forgiving. After a couple of sips of Maurten mix and a mouthful of gel, I was able to regain my rhythm without any pains from the sudden change in direction. I took a deep breath and worked my way onto the back of a small pack of men. Phew.

HALF WAY

I noticed some drips hitting my face and wondered whether there were misting stations somewhere. It suddenly occurred to me that they were drips of sweat flicking from the hair of the runner in front of me. Niiiice. There had been a mild headwind in some sections up to this point but I knew we would have a tailwind for the closing kilometres. Any incline was very gradual and the surface was generally excellent. With minimal camber I could comfortably run on any side of the road but tried to follow the blue line where I could.

Photo credit: @ryanjamiejohnson

I recalled Gen’s words from an hour earlier, “Just get to half way and then the course gets easier”. My carbohydrate load had gone to plan and I knew I had the energy reserves necessary to go the distance. I also knew I would be taking a caffeinated gel at the next checkpoint for an energy boost. When I got to the next drink station I slowed right down and grabbed the bottle with two hands. My early bottle-grabbing confidence had been shattered. I ripped the gel from my bottle and consumed it quickly. I didn’t enjoy running with my bottle so took a few mouthfuls and threw it to the side. I noticed that I wasn’t warming up as much as I had expected and wondered whether the humidity had dropped. The course was also quite shady through the middle stages which was helpful.  

As we passed through halfway I glanced down at my watch and saw the numbers 1:10:39. I knew this was about 30 seconds slower than my 21.1km split had been in Tokyo in March but I felt like I was running more within myself this time. I thought, I'm going to need a great second half to get close to the Australian record of 2:21:34.

FORM

The 10 kilometres were all about form. At one point I spotted David Pearce from Australia on a bike path, riding along with his camera. I felt comfort in his presence. A female Finnish athlete came up by my side with a pacer slightly ahead of her. I assumed he must have been the 2h22 pacer and did my best to match their pace. At the 25km station I slowed down to ensure a successful bottle grab and noticed a significant gap form between myself and the Finnish athlete. Within minutes, a Belgian female passed me and tacked onto the back of their pack. I wondered if I was slowing or whether the girls were speeding up. I tried to increase my cadence to bridge the gap but felt like I wasn’t making any gains. The song 'Love Generation' was belting through a speaker, creating a party-like atmosphere. When the music faded I thought about my family back at home and felt a surge of emotion. I felt a lump in my throat and realised I had better switch my thoughts back to my breathing and my form. Although the girls had gapped me, I felt strong. I worked my way towards the 30km checkpoint with excitement, knowing that this is where the Marathon fight begins.

ONLY A CITY-BAY FUN RUN LEFT TO GO

At the 30km drink station I collected by bottle and gulped down my gel. “Fly” was my word for this part of the race. 'I believe I can fly' had been playing on and off in my mind since listening to it many hours earlier in my hotel room – back when I was full of anticipation and nerves. Now, however, I was deep in it.

I glanced down at my Garmin screen and saw 1:57:30ish when I crossed the 35km mat. I imagined my family at home getting a split update on the Marathon App tracker. In recent years it had been me following the Aussies' little moving dots on my phone screen with great excitement - it was special to be the dot this time around. My capacity to do mathematics was limited at this stage of the race but rough calculations indicated that I had fallen off my initial pace. Luckily none of these thoughts were met with disappointment or worry but instead a sense of happiness that my body still felt strong, unlike this point in the Sydney Marathon. Whenever I found my thoughts drifting to outcome I brought myself back to the line, “what is my next best move” – a Kobe Bryant quote that I had read a few days earlier.

With 7 kilometres to go, I was confident that my body would remain strong right to the finish line. The gradient was predominantly downhill from this point onwards and the wind was behind us. I tried to turn over my legs as quickly and as efficiently as possible. I gulped down another gel and soaked up the atmosphere as much as I could. I tried to smile when people cheered and the kilometres went by surprisingly quickly. I had started to check my splits after 35 kilometres and noticed that they were consistently around the 3:20 mark - positive reinforcement. I spent the next 5 kilometres trying to catch the runners ahead of me, whilst focusing on controlled breathing. I was starting to hurt now but not in a terrible way. I had trust in my body and knew that I had mental strategies to draw upon if I needed them. 

As I neared the final straight, I heard a familiar Aussie voice yell “Jess you need to go, you are 5 seconds off the Australian record.... 5 seconds off”. I couldn’t believe it! I had assumed I had dropped off Australian record pace and felt a surge of adrenaline propel me forward.

Before our Saturday shakeout run, Brett had shown me the final downhill run to the finishing straight. The surface was covered by a plastic sheet for protection in the days leading up to the race, however I knew from past vision that runners finished on thick blue carpet. I knew that I was getting close to the descent and I tried to swing my arms and legs as fast as possible. The blue carpet was as bouncy as I had imagined and as I turned onto the final straight, I vaguely made out the numbers 2:21:03 on the clock. Gee it was going to come down to the wire. I gave the final 150m everything I had left. I saw flying limbs of the runners around me and took a quick look at the clock before passing under the finisher’s arch… 2:21:23ish.

I THINK I’VE DONE IT

I ran as hard as I could through the line and made sure I was well past it before stopping. I was in a bit of shock and didn’t know where to go or what to do. It is funny because I recall my friend Sinead describing this exact feeling when she set a new Australian record in Valencia in 2022. I spotted Ryan Gregson waiting beside the grandstand in his purple race kit. Emotion rushed over me as hobbled over to him for a hug. I felt an enormous sense of satisfaction. A line that Alex Honnold had repeated when he accomplished his goal of climbing El Capitan came to mind, “I am so delighted”. I couldn’t wait to call my family. Now I could allow myself to think about them and let the emotions flow.

2025 Valencia Marathon: 2:21:24