The highlight reels are just the beginning of the story.
Amy OHalloran has been an RMA affiliated coach for many years now, and this year in Melbourne she had a run that reminded her what it really is all about. We sometimes forget that social media can be the place (we) people put their running achievements and highlights, rightly in many ways, for us to have something to look back on when sometimes we need a reminder of what we are capable of. Yes that can mean to an outsider that everything looks rosey, easy and successful – but I am certain 9 times out of 10 there is a story behind those highlights that is so much deeper. We all run for so many different reasons, let me share with you Amy’s running journey to Melbourne 2026.
Not my fastest marathon, but the one I’m most proud of.
When life is falling apart, what’s one thing you do? Well, for me, apparently, it’s train for a marathon.Looking back, maybe I’m a little bit crazy. But running became my constant when everything else felt like it was falling apart. It’s been a long road back. Two Achilles tears, Achilles surgery and two PRP injections in January and February this year.My only goal was to run pain-free and train pain-free. And who knows? Maybe run a marathon by the end of the year.
Then I met the incredible Zoe in March. We started building slowly, with no pressure. Just a goal to get me back running. Then my world fell apart. Going through a separation with two little kids in tow has been one of the most heartbreaking experiences of my life. There were days when simply getting through the day felt impossible. Training sessions where I’d have panic attacks mid-rep. Days when I’d end up sitting in the gutter, crying my eyes out. But I kept showing up. The 4:30 am alarms. The sessions I really didn’t want to do. The constant battle with that voice in my head telling me I couldn’t. Running gave me something to hold onto when so much was out of my control. And the people. Incredible.
To everyone who checked in, sent a message or helped keep me afloat, thank you. You probably don’t realise just how much you helped. Every time I pushed through that negative voice, I got a little stronger. Not just physically, but mentally, too. The night before the race. My alarm was set for 3:15 am. At 12:40 am, I woke to my son screaming after falling out of the bed we were sharing. He’d hit the corner of the bedside table, and a bump immediately started to form. Once he settled, he wanted to go back to sleep. I lay there worrying. Was he okay? Could he have a concussion? I spent the rest of the night checking on him. Thankfully, he was okay. Then, suddenly, the alarm went off.Race day.After barely sleeping, I forced down my peanut butter and banana bagel, had my coffee and got ready to run 42.2 kilometres. Because, of course, that’s what running mums do!
Turning a breakdown into a breakthrough
Weirdly, I felt calm at the start. After being so bloody nervous, I was surprisingly settled. I had nothing to prove to anyone but myself. The original plan was to hang off the back of the three-hour pace group. But I was feeling good.I kept telling myself to slow down, yet the kilometres ticked by.4:14. 4:14. 4:14. Like a metronome.Then I hit halfway in 1:29:34. Exactly the same time I’d gone through halfway at Launceston, when I was only running a half marathon. I remember thinking, Look at how far you’ve come. After everything my body had been through, here I was, running a marathon. Around 28 kilometres, though, the legs started getting heavy.I broke it down into two kilometres at a time. That was all I needed to think about. I called the kids. Hearing their little voices say, “Go, Mummy!” made such a difference. My amazing friends Jen, Mel and Jamie sent encouragement right when I needed it. I called the kids again at 36 kilometres, then again at 39. At one point, I messaged Zoe, my coach, and told her, “I can’t.” I genuinely thought the world was ending. Haha. Turns out, it wasn’t. I reminded myself that I could do hard things. I’d already come through so much. I just had to keep going.And eventually, I crossed that finish line.
More than 42.2 kilometres
I completely lost it. Big, ugly tears.
I was so bloody proud of myself. Not because of my time, but because I’d finished.I’d come back from two Achilles tears, surgery and further treatment. I’d trained through anxiety, heartbreak and some of the hardest months of my life, all while navigating a separation and trying to be the best mum I could be to my two little people. Crossing that finish line reminded me of something I desperately needed to hear: Whatever happens from here, I’m going to be okay. The kids are going to be okay. Running a marathon doesn’t magically fix everything. Life is still messy. There are still hard days and plenty of unknowns. But I now know I can face hard things. I can fall apart and still find a way forward. And I don’t have to do it all alone.
Brave is vulnerable. Vulnerable is brave.
I want my kids to see their mum go after something that feels impossible. To see that you can be scared and still show up. That you can fall down, have a cry, ask for help and get back up again. Because strength isn’t always about holding it together. Sometimes it’s sitting in the gutter, crying your eyes out, then finding the courage to try again. I don’t know what the next chapter looks like. But I know I’ll keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other. The time was never going to tell the whole story. This was about finding my way back to myself. About proving that even when life knocks you down, you can get back up. And about showing my kids that you don’t have to have it all figured out to keep going.
This wasn’t my fastest marathon. It was the marathon I’m most proud of. Because sometimes, the biggest achievement isn’t crossing the finish line. It’s everything it took to get there.
One foot in front of the other.
Always.
Amy.
You can read more about Amy as a coach on our website HERE – If 2027 is the year where you would like to get some guidance with your running, get in touch with us today.
I
Amy is an RMA affiliated coach and long time member of the RMA community.