I had a quite lovely weekend hanging out with The Sister doing what we do best - shopping and eating.
But then before I knew it it was 8am on a Sunday and my whole day was about to be consumed by something that I might not mange and then everything would be hideous and stressful.
I changed tack again this week after 2 weeks of runs which deteriorated from hideous to disastrous and decided to set off at lunch after a morning of eating and drinking water and I went very very slowly. I felt much better from the start although don't let me make out it was easy. I had various aches and pains which shifted from shins to lower back to right lateral knee to left foot as the run progressed. This was obviously accompanied by various health anxieties - "will I get shin splints?, will my back GO by mile 15?, will my right knee give way by mile 20?, will I get a completely new hideous disabling pain at any stage which will render me absolutely incapable of finishing?????????"
Going slowly is clearly the way forward. But I don't like running slowly because I am a snob. I saw a girl running slowly yesterday and sneered at her to myself - "look at her going so slowly - why is she even bothering?" I am such a snob that I presume everybody else is thinking this about me and I can't bear it. I was going so slowly I was wondering at one point if I was actually running and then I overtook somebody who was quite clearly walking so I was reassured that I was running but only slightly as she was fat and almost certainly walking very very slowly.......I think the lesson is that I need to work on being a nicer person.
When I was in the running shop a couple of weeks ago the assistant asked if I had lost any toenails yet? with a tone of voice that suggested she fully expected me to say yes. I was quite worried that the fact that my toenails were completely intact meant I wasn't trying hard enough. Well I can stop worrying about that now as my right 2nd toenail is looking distinctly like it is going to depart from its nailbed- phew!!!
I did 22km again today in 2 and a quarter hours and am not sure I could have gone much further. But I worked out that if in 8 weeks time I can do 3 hours then I only have 1.5 hours left that I can't do (where I will want to die etc) and then I will have hopefully have half an hour at the end that the whole emotion of finishing will see me through. I have never wanted to die for a whole hour and a half so maybe I shouldn't underestimate how truly awful this is going to be (I-have-drunk-too-much-wine "head-spin" tends to end with drunken-sleep after a maximum of 10 minutes in my experience - but clearly this is not good mental training)
I have to believe I will make it without resorting to crawling on my hands and knees or just giving up completely. I so want to make it to the end without embarrassing myself.
I was listening to my marathon podcast and a runner was talking about how great he felt when he saw his mum cheering for him at mile 25 and how this inspires him to run. I thought about the possibility of my Sister leaning over the barrier to such an extent so she might tip it over, elbowing everybody else out the way and shouting and cheering and waving like a lunatic wearing some ridiculous Deeley Boppers (as if I could possibly fail to spot her without them) and it made me feel very very very good even though everything hurt. Thank goodness for my enthusiastic little sister.
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