How I Ran a Half Marathon While Living on a Boat

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking (or have a good guess) — how on earth do you run if you live on a boat? Well, let’s just say it’s not as crazy as it sounds… We’re anchored 95% of the time, which means we’re close to shore — which means we can run!

So whenever there’s no watersports to do, Dad and I head off for a run to explore whatever area we’re in. We’ve done this for years and it’s amazing. Running as liveaboards has actually become a huge part of how we explore new places.

Now for how running a half marathon while living on a boat happened…

Sort-of Related:

How to Stay Fit & Surf-Ready on a Boat (Without a Gym!)

Day in the Life Sailing in the Seychelles: What We Actually Do Every Day

How It Started

For a while Dad had been wanting to run a long distance, and naturally we figured the next milestone after 10K is 21K… Hence when his birthday came around a couple of months ago, my gift was a half marathon training plan. Yep — we were going to do this together as Dad and daughter.

Training

After his birthday we sailed into South Africa — this is where we wanted to do the race for a few reasons.
One, there are actually races here.
Two, we’d be in marinas a lot more, which meant more running.
And three, it’s harder to get to surf, so naturally we’d run more often.

• Weekly 5K parkruns at speed
  
• Two 15Ks in Knysna (from the marina to the Heads and back)
  
• Our “usual” running every day or every other day
  

We did all of these together. We almost always run together — Dad and I tend to be the ones who have to move our bodies before bed.

Those were the main points of our half marathon training. Oh, and if you’re curious, I love to use the Nike Run app to track our runs – not sponsored or anything, just seriously froth.

Before the Race

Two nights before the race… and I didn’t even know we were doing it! We’d looked at some, but the dates hadn’t lined up.

Then Mum and Dad came upstairs and spewed out this crazy plan to drive five hours, pick up our visas, surf, and run a 21K before driving five hours back.

Okay then…

Unfortunately, I’d gotten super sore shins from running two fifteens and a couple of sevens to tens. My shoes were at the 650K mark, and I guess the spike in kilometres with flat soles didn’t give me the support I needed… so hello shin splints.

These were still bothering me, but too bad — the day after next we were running a half marathon.

Thankfully we’d found some new shoes a couple of days before, and even though I wasn’t used to them yet, they were wayyyy better already.

So: five-hour drive (which sucks for us because we’re not used to sitting for so long and our butts get sore — yes, truth), stayed the night in a spot called Vic Bay, then woke up early for race day!

Race Day

At 4:15 a.m. our alarms went off. Six people sleepily ate, used the bathroom, and threw shoes on.

We drove fifteen minutes to the start, signed in at a random petrol station that was filling with runners.

Oh — and it wasn’t just Dad and I running. Nope. All six of us were! Mum and Finn were doing the 10K, and because of age limits, Archie and Pip were doing the 5K.

But the 21K started first, soooo we were about to begin!

Got the bib on, tied the shoelace tracker, ran to the toilet, and lined up at the start with everyone else. It wasn’t a huge race — enough competitors for it to feel proper, but not so many that it took ages to get off the line. I’m guessing around 400 people maybe?

Oh, and it was raining. Feel like I should mention that.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, GO!
We were away!

The Actual Kilometres

The first part was straight through suburbia on good roads. The runners thinned out pretty fast, leaving clumps of a few runners here and there. We went for a steady pace, and because we were keeping up with other people, we actually went pretty well.

By 3K our average pace was 5:18. Feeling good. We don’t tend to run in the mornings, so it took us a fair while to warm into it! My shoes felt good, but they were already squelching from the rain. Shins weren’t too bad compared to the last few runs, so things were good.

Then we reached the dirt road.

Around 5–6K we turned off tarmac onto a very muddy, very slippery dirt road. We had no idea what to expect, so we just kept going.

I don’t mind running on more technical ground — it keeps my mind busy instead of focusing too much on the distance.

We slid across a bridge (yes, actually sketchy) and then started uphill. Again, we had no idea what the course was like, so we just kept slogging. We passed a few people who’d stopped to walk.

Uphill is definitely a strong point for us. Anyway, this hill went on and on and the kilometres felt longer and longer.

Eventually we hit 9K — only 1.5K until the turn-around point. A bit of flat relief, then more uphill.

Finally, we hit 10K, and a moment later the course flattened out and rounded the corner to the turn point… woohoo — halfway done!

Now we had to get down the hill. Uphill may be our strength, but downhill definitely isn’t as much. A couple people passed us. I can go pretty fast downhill, but Dad and I were running together, so I stuck with him — just like he stuck with me on the way up when I was puffing.

It was pretty sketchy on the downhill with all the mud (still sprinkling rain). One wrong step and you’d wipe out. My new peach-orange shoes were total goners… could not care less at the time though.

Back over the bridge, up a small hill, down again, and finally back onto sweet, beautifully flat tarmac… well, flat for a bit.

We were now around 15K — officially new territory. We’d never run this far before! This amped us up and we found a rhythm again.

There were a few more hills and turns in the last 6K, but we counted down — closer and closer.

By this point it was just the two of us, occasionally spotting someone ahead. Then one guy caught us, passed us, and we kept him in sight. That’s one thing I loved about the race aspect — having someone to chase.

Dad was doing great and kept pushing me. Around 16–17K my legs were feeling done, but that passed by 19K and suddenly we only had 2K left. This helped so much mentally — almost there.

There was a hill in this last section that left me puffing like a freight train, but thankfully I recovered quickly.

By this point I was basically blanking everything out — just following Dad and counting down metres.

One more corner, then an intersection, left, and then the final stretch. Come on.

A guy passed us — dang.

We turned left — I could see the finish.

Gave it everything I had left, kept my breathing steady, stuck with Dad, heard Mum yell as we got closer… through the cones… across the finish!!!

Aftermath

Far out. I could stop. A guy gave us medals, someone removed the shoelace tracker, and that was it.

High-fives all round, down an electrolyte drink, use the bathroom again, and then jump in the car.

We’d done it! Ready for the stats?

I’m absolutely stoked. I’ve run a half marathon! And doing it with Dad was so awesome — I wouldn’t have done nearly as well without him encouraging me the whole way. He actually nailed it. I puffed way more, haha.

There you have it — how I ran a half marathon as a liveaboard teenager!

Now I have questions for you… Have you run a 21K? Do you think running while living on a boat is crazy? What races have you done?
If you have answers to any of those questions — or anything else to say — please comment and let me know. I’d love to hear!