Of course all my thoughts were consumed with London on Sunday. I've even banished Shania Twain from being the annoying song that pops into my head when running, this time it was the BBC's London Marathon theme tune resounding in my mind as I trundled the Bicester streets for the last time.
I might run again after the marathon, I might not - I have no idea what is going to happen in my life from Monday onwards. I still don't enjoy these runs, but I am enjoying the encouragement, the cameraderie, and the fact that so many people are following my efforts with genuine enthusiasm and respect for what I've done. I am weighed down with tips and advice from fellow runners, all of it very much appreciated. I am exactly the type of person who needs them - everything is brand new to me.
I do feel like a fish out of water - even going to a sports shop in Leamington Spa yesterday to pick up 8 more carb gels, I just don't feel like I belong in a sports shop, and look lost once I open the door. The assistant apologised that they were running low, that so many people were running the Stratford half marathon this weekend. I tried to feel smug when I replied "Actually, I'm running London" but I don't know if that feeling is there yet.
This afternoon I'm getting on the train to London to go to the Expo event, chiefly to pick up my number and chip for my shoe. There will be thousands of runners and dozens of running-related stalls. I'm really hoping to feel part of it, rather than out of place - and hoping that this is when it will hit home what I'm going to do.
In my mind I'm still the fat kid who finished 96th out of 96 in compulsory cross-country at school 24 years ago. On Sunday we'll say goodbye to that kid for good.*
It's been eight and half months in training. Eight and a half months ago I had a training plan that involved running for two minutes on and two minutes off. I couldn't run for two minutes, so I started at one. Those one minute sessions on the treadmill killed me more than a lazy seven mile run twice round the block does now. So even if Sunday ends in disappointment my journey has been incredible, though I say so myself.
108 blog posts, which have been at roughly one post per run, suggest that I have done over a hundred training runs, not to mention one half-marathon for this. The temptation to add up my total number of runs, miles and minutes is there, but maybe another time. Easier just to think I now have just 26.2 miles, 5 and a bit hours, and one run to go. Somebody is looking down on me, as I have had nothing more than a bit of mild tendonitis and sore nipples to show for it - no blisters, strains, twists, aches, tears or injuries at all. Perhaps it's the fact that I have looked after my body for 36 years by not subjecting it to any exercise? Up to me now to take advantage of that luck, get myself to the start line, and then tell you all about my triumph on Monday!
To all of you that have been reading - thank you!
Neil
1 comment:
"erhaps it's the fact that I have looked after my body for 36 years by not subjecting it to any exercise?" - hit the nail on the head there!
Great post!
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