It's funny when you are building up towards something for so long, then it happens and then...that's it. You've done it, you've achieved your goal...what now? After 4 months of training, I finally ran the Barcelona Half Marathon yesterday morning.
Back at the end of September, I'd been sitting in my flat, chatting to Monica about wanting to start running in order to get fit, and how I might sign up for a 5k. It seemed to be easier to sign up for 10k races, but I thought that seemed a little crazy at this stage, when 5km was the longest distance I ever ran back in London. Then, one evening, I accidentally ran 7km- and 10k suddenly seemed like a more realistic challenge. Having settled on a 10k race I'd like to do in November, Monica mentioned that she may be signing up for the Barcelona Half Marathon.
"Why don't you sign up for that one too?" she said.
And that is how this crazy journey started.
As soon as I'd signed up for the half marathon, I suddenly panicked. How was I going to go from 7km to 21km in just 4 months?? So, in typical me-fashion, I needed a detailed action plan of exactly how I was going to do it. It basically involved me running one extra kilometre per week...for those of you that may be training for something similar and need inspiration, it looked a little like this:
October: 8km- 11km
November: 11km-14km
December: 15km-18km
January: 19km- 22km
February: Running 10km the weekend before the race
It seemed a little unobtainable back in October, being able to run an extra kilometre per week when I was still trying to get used to these longer distances. But, as I ran the same route every week- along the Barcelona beaches- I was able to really feel my progress, and be motivated to really push myself for that greater distance each week.
So, it was all going well...I'd managed to run the half marathon distance twice (which I needed to do for my own peace of mind), and I was ready to go. Then, a week before...my throat started to hurt. My body started to ache. My nose was congested. Needless to say, it was the worse timing ever- and I started to seriously worry. Not running this half marathon, after getting sponsored for it for the National Autistic Society, after training solidly for 4 months...not running was quite simply not an option. I just had to look after myself...more mint tea in a week than I've had all year, early nights to ensure 8 hours sleep...all things I should probably do anyway, but things that were essential in order to get healthy. I tend to find it difficult to slow down when I'm sick...but this week, it was essential.
By Saturday, even though I was still a little congested, and I still had a suspiciously phlegmy cough...I was feeling infinitely better. I wasn't as healthy as I would liked, but nothing was going to stop me. I was going to run this race.
Fast forward to Sunday morning, at the start line. I'd been at two other start lines, but I felt very different this time. Though those two 10k races that I had run had been challenges in their own right, they had been practice runs for this. This was the real deal.
'Welcome to the new age' from Imagine Dragons' song 'Radioactive' was playing in my ear as I walked with the masses up to the start line, and I suddenly felt a little emotional. I know how cliched that sounds, but those words really resonated with me at that moment. I was entering a new age- an age where I could put my mind to something, and go out and get it...all through the power of my own motivation. I was about to achieve something that I has previously thought was beyond me. All those years of watching the London Marathon on TV, completely awestruck at those runners, and I was finally about to be one of them. This time last year, I would not have dreamed that I was running a race like this. If that's true, what could be possible next year? Kilimanjaro? London Marathon?
Back to the race. It had its high and lows- the last 4km were a particular struggle, every kilometre seeming longer than the last- but I finished. I've seen runners with their hands in the air as they finish, huge smiles on their faces...I know I looked nothing like that. I wanted to throw up, I felt a little dizzy, my ears were ringing a little...but I finished. It was when I saw my fellow runners Kristin and Monica that I was finally able to smile...disbelief, relief and pride all rolled into one.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
So, what's next in this running journey? I am now determined to run a marathon next year- I've already run half, and I think a year is more than enough time to train for another half. My first choice is my home city- the London Marathon. I want to actually be one of those runners that I've watched on TV, that I've cheered for from the sidelines. If I don't get picked in the lottery, then I would love to run the Barcelona Marathon. Where better to run a marathon than the city that has helped me to become a runner? For I truly think that Barcelona has been the perfect city to train for something like this, with its perfect beachside course.
I've never really got the true thrill of sport until now. How reaching one goal does not mean an anti-climax, does not mean the end- it just opens up countless other goals. I know this is easy to say, but I truly believe that if I can do this, than anyone can do it. I am not a natural sportsperson, I was never a good runner at school...all you need is a plan, and to stick to it, and you can achieve anything.
This year, my body is really going to be put through its paces- I have no doubt that for every small triumph, there will also be exhaustion and pain. I have just three words to say to that. Bring. It. On.
Back at the end of September, I'd been sitting in my flat, chatting to Monica about wanting to start running in order to get fit, and how I might sign up for a 5k. It seemed to be easier to sign up for 10k races, but I thought that seemed a little crazy at this stage, when 5km was the longest distance I ever ran back in London. Then, one evening, I accidentally ran 7km- and 10k suddenly seemed like a more realistic challenge. Having settled on a 10k race I'd like to do in November, Monica mentioned that she may be signing up for the Barcelona Half Marathon.
"Why don't you sign up for that one too?" she said.
And that is how this crazy journey started.
As soon as I'd signed up for the half marathon, I suddenly panicked. How was I going to go from 7km to 21km in just 4 months?? So, in typical me-fashion, I needed a detailed action plan of exactly how I was going to do it. It basically involved me running one extra kilometre per week...for those of you that may be training for something similar and need inspiration, it looked a little like this:
October: 8km- 11km
November: 11km-14km
December: 15km-18km
January: 19km- 22km
February: Running 10km the weekend before the race
It seemed a little unobtainable back in October, being able to run an extra kilometre per week when I was still trying to get used to these longer distances. But, as I ran the same route every week- along the Barcelona beaches- I was able to really feel my progress, and be motivated to really push myself for that greater distance each week.
So, it was all going well...I'd managed to run the half marathon distance twice (which I needed to do for my own peace of mind), and I was ready to go. Then, a week before...my throat started to hurt. My body started to ache. My nose was congested. Needless to say, it was the worse timing ever- and I started to seriously worry. Not running this half marathon, after getting sponsored for it for the National Autistic Society, after training solidly for 4 months...not running was quite simply not an option. I just had to look after myself...more mint tea in a week than I've had all year, early nights to ensure 8 hours sleep...all things I should probably do anyway, but things that were essential in order to get healthy. I tend to find it difficult to slow down when I'm sick...but this week, it was essential.
By Saturday, even though I was still a little congested, and I still had a suspiciously phlegmy cough...I was feeling infinitely better. I wasn't as healthy as I would liked, but nothing was going to stop me. I was going to run this race.
Fast forward to Sunday morning, at the start line. I'd been at two other start lines, but I felt very different this time. Though those two 10k races that I had run had been challenges in their own right, they had been practice runs for this. This was the real deal.
'Welcome to the new age' from Imagine Dragons' song 'Radioactive' was playing in my ear as I walked with the masses up to the start line, and I suddenly felt a little emotional. I know how cliched that sounds, but those words really resonated with me at that moment. I was entering a new age- an age where I could put my mind to something, and go out and get it...all through the power of my own motivation. I was about to achieve something that I has previously thought was beyond me. All those years of watching the London Marathon on TV, completely awestruck at those runners, and I was finally about to be one of them. This time last year, I would not have dreamed that I was running a race like this. If that's true, what could be possible next year? Kilimanjaro? London Marathon?
Back to the race. It had its high and lows- the last 4km were a particular struggle, every kilometre seeming longer than the last- but I finished. I've seen runners with their hands in the air as they finish, huge smiles on their faces...I know I looked nothing like that. I wanted to throw up, I felt a little dizzy, my ears were ringing a little...but I finished. It was when I saw my fellow runners Kristin and Monica that I was finally able to smile...disbelief, relief and pride all rolled into one.
So, what's next in this running journey? I am now determined to run a marathon next year- I've already run half, and I think a year is more than enough time to train for another half. My first choice is my home city- the London Marathon. I want to actually be one of those runners that I've watched on TV, that I've cheered for from the sidelines. If I don't get picked in the lottery, then I would love to run the Barcelona Marathon. Where better to run a marathon than the city that has helped me to become a runner? For I truly think that Barcelona has been the perfect city to train for something like this, with its perfect beachside course.
I've never really got the true thrill of sport until now. How reaching one goal does not mean an anti-climax, does not mean the end- it just opens up countless other goals. I know this is easy to say, but I truly believe that if I can do this, than anyone can do it. I am not a natural sportsperson, I was never a good runner at school...all you need is a plan, and to stick to it, and you can achieve anything.
This year, my body is really going to be put through its paces- I have no doubt that for every small triumph, there will also be exhaustion and pain. I have just three words to say to that. Bring. It. On.
No comments:
Post a Comment