With just four weeks to go until the Antarctica Marathon, preparations are entering their final, crucial phase. From back-to-back half marathons and structured endurance training to mental preparation for crossing the Drake Passage, this final month is about building resilience, testing limits, and getting ready to race on the most extreme continent on Earth.

It’s wild to think that in just one month, I’ll be lacing up my trail shoes and stepping onto my seventh continent to run the Antarctica Marathon.

For the last 8 weeks, it’s been sitting quietly at the front of my mind, equal parts thrilling and unnerving. Antarctica feels like the ultimate unknown: unpredictable weather, unforgiving terrain, and a landscape that doesn’t care how prepared you think you are. So instead of getting lost in the what-ifs, I’m narrowing my focus to the small things I can control, the miles, the gear, the mindset before I head to Argentina and then onward to the southern continent.

Training has been going as well as I could hope. The UK has delivered a steady diet of cold rain and biting wind which is brutal to run in, but perfect preparation. Every soggy mile has been a chance to test waterproofs, figure out my layers, and practice being comfortable with discomfort. I’ve been gradually building distance to stay injury-free, now hovering around 56km per week, with a 70km peak week planned before I ease into taper mode ahead of race day.

I’ve also found a comfortably challenging regular route: a hilly 12km loop that serves up relentless ups and downs and lately, thick fog for added drama. It’s the kind of route that forces you to dig a little deeper. Recently it’s been shared with soldiers on exercises and was recently used for shooting scenes for House of the Dragon. No dragons have appeared on my runs so far, just mud, mist, and the sound of my shoes dodging puddles.

I managed to slot in two half marathons with very different experiences, but both valuable in their own way.

The first was a local half I raced last year, this time filled with familiar faces from my running club taking on the distance for the first time. Instead of chasing a time for myself, I ran it comfortably alongside a friend who was aiming for a PB. We crossed the line with a new personal best for him, and it was a good result and comfortable pace.

The second race couldn’t have been more different. I volunteered as a two-hour pacer at the Hampton Court Half, and it was, without exaggeration, the worst weather I’ve ever raced in. Relentless rain. Non-stop. Wind gusts that knocked the rhythm out of every stride and demanded full concentration just to hold pace. Not easy to do when you’re wearing a giant sail on your back.

But behind me was a pack of runners chasing that sub-2 hour finish. We pushed through the soaking shoes, the stinging rain, the headwinds along the river. I brought them in at 1:59:30. In those conditions, that felt like a huge win.

Physically, I feel right where I need to be heading into Antarctica. The miles are there. The endurance is building. The resilience is being tested weekly.

It’s everything else that’s starting to stir the nerves.

Ten days on a boat, something I’ve never done before. Crossing the Drake Passage. Being alone with people I’ll have only just met. Balancing the pressure of creating meaningful content while also being fully present for a once-in-a-lifetime experience. There are so many moving parts beyond just putting one foot in front of the other.

So the next few weeks aren’t just about training it’s going to be about preparing mentally, emotionally, and logistically. My notebook is overflowing with lists — gear lists, contingency plans, content ideas, travel checklists. I’m trying to reduce the chaos by planning what I can, knowing full well that Antarctica will have the final say.

Four weeks from now, it will all be real.