What am I doing here?
Bournemouth, October 2016, the starting pen. Having just had my third pre race wee in the space of 20 minutes, me and the other 7,000 runners are ushered in to our starting pens like lambs being led to slaughter. All of us picturing our own doom, looking around for someone who appears more afraid of the next 6 hours, looking for hope. It's at this moment, when I'm packed tightly in to the last starting group, unable to move, unable to escape, that I ask that question that all runners ask; 'What am I doing here?'
To answer that I need to rewind 5 months to the day that I was taking part in the Milton Keynes half marathon. Or at least I should have been.
Having been taken ill on the Thursday before May day Bank holiday weekend with pneumonia symptoms, I awoke Friday morning to the disgusting sight of chicken pox. If anyone has had chicken pox as an adult you will know that it is very unforgiving and robs you of all your dignity. Having tried to convinced my wife that it's just spots and that I'm fine to run the half marathon on Monday, I proceeded to gain a fever that felt like about 200 degrees Celsius and pass out in the shower on the Saturday morning. The half marathon that I'd trained so hard for, that was supposed to be my first under 2 hours, was no longer going to happen.
During the next few days at home, looking like Freddy Krueger's offspring, I decided that I had had enough of feeling useless and wanted to really test my body. Surely I couldn't feel much worse than I did right now? So I did it; I booked myself in to the Bournemouth marathon.
The hundreds of miles of training for this felt like they weren't going to be enough - you feel so underprepared. By the start I had managed to lose over a stone and be near 13 stones for this race, how would I possibly carry this around for nearly 6 hours? For 26.2 miles?!
If anyone wants advice on how to run a marathon for the first time once you reach that start line, never trust the first mile. Hitting that One Mile marker felt great. I didn't know if it was all the training that I'd done that was kicking in, whether it was all the pre race fuelling I'd done, or if I was swept up in the euphoria of the atmosphere on the day, but this was to be the best I felt on the course throughout the whole run!
There were many more times during the race that I asked the question; what am I doing here? I always recall reaching nine miles and another runner shouted 'only 17 miles to go!' That was not met with the enthusiasm and joy that I believe she hoped it would be greeted by. As I stopped in the public toilets at mile 10 for a wee I'd been holding since mile 3, I remember thinking that I couldn't do this, that it is beyond me, that I'm too weak minded to force myself through the wall when it comes. It never came. That said, although I didn't hit the wall I definitely leant heavily against it!
When people ask about the wall I have to be honest and admit that it does exist, I've experienced it and I can advise that it is a gruesome place to be- that's for another time.
Why didn't the wall come? Honestly, the only answer I can give is because it was my first marathon. Like most things you do first time you don't go all in, you don't push the body so hard it breaks, because it's all about survival. You just make it through that first one and then get better from there - and trust me when I say that you do get better. Marathons don't become any easier, you get better at them. Once you realise that you love running and this is several hours of doing something you love, that mental battle that you have can be controlled.
Bournemouth was my first marathon and, because of being my first, is my most memorable. Running the streets of Bournemouth all the way to Poole and back along the promenade, I made sure that I took in the beautiful surroundings and soaked up the atmosphere of everyone running and watching. The crowds who lined the beach were amazing, especially in the last 3 miles when all I wanted to do was walk - they helped push me on. They got me to the finish, and I'm not ashamed to say that I shed a tear or two when I was greeted by my wife and daughter. I had achieved something amazing, something that I could be so proud of, something I had never thought possible - even at mile 10!
So now when I am at the start line of a marathon I always ask myself; 'What am I doing here?' The difference now is I have an answer: 'Doing something I love, and doing it with other idiots like me!'
To answer that I need to rewind 5 months to the day that I was taking part in the Milton Keynes half marathon. Or at least I should have been.
Having been taken ill on the Thursday before May day Bank holiday weekend with pneumonia symptoms, I awoke Friday morning to the disgusting sight of chicken pox. If anyone has had chicken pox as an adult you will know that it is very unforgiving and robs you of all your dignity. Having tried to convinced my wife that it's just spots and that I'm fine to run the half marathon on Monday, I proceeded to gain a fever that felt like about 200 degrees Celsius and pass out in the shower on the Saturday morning. The half marathon that I'd trained so hard for, that was supposed to be my first under 2 hours, was no longer going to happen.
During the next few days at home, looking like Freddy Krueger's offspring, I decided that I had had enough of feeling useless and wanted to really test my body. Surely I couldn't feel much worse than I did right now? So I did it; I booked myself in to the Bournemouth marathon.
 |
| Pre Race - Bournemouth 2016 |
If anyone wants advice on how to run a marathon for the first time once you reach that start line, never trust the first mile. Hitting that One Mile marker felt great. I didn't know if it was all the training that I'd done that was kicking in, whether it was all the pre race fuelling I'd done, or if I was swept up in the euphoria of the atmosphere on the day, but this was to be the best I felt on the course throughout the whole run!
There were many more times during the race that I asked the question; what am I doing here? I always recall reaching nine miles and another runner shouted 'only 17 miles to go!' That was not met with the enthusiasm and joy that I believe she hoped it would be greeted by. As I stopped in the public toilets at mile 10 for a wee I'd been holding since mile 3, I remember thinking that I couldn't do this, that it is beyond me, that I'm too weak minded to force myself through the wall when it comes. It never came. That said, although I didn't hit the wall I definitely leant heavily against it!
When people ask about the wall I have to be honest and admit that it does exist, I've experienced it and I can advise that it is a gruesome place to be- that's for another time.
Why didn't the wall come? Honestly, the only answer I can give is because it was my first marathon. Like most things you do first time you don't go all in, you don't push the body so hard it breaks, because it's all about survival. You just make it through that first one and then get better from there - and trust me when I say that you do get better. Marathons don't become any easier, you get better at them. Once you realise that you love running and this is several hours of doing something you love, that mental battle that you have can be controlled.
Bournemouth was my first marathon and, because of being my first, is my most memorable. Running the streets of Bournemouth all the way to Poole and back along the promenade, I made sure that I took in the beautiful surroundings and soaked up the atmosphere of everyone running and watching. The crowds who lined the beach were amazing, especially in the last 3 miles when all I wanted to do was walk - they helped push me on. They got me to the finish, and I'm not ashamed to say that I shed a tear or two when I was greeted by my wife and daughter. I had achieved something amazing, something that I could be so proud of, something I had never thought possible - even at mile 10!
So now when I am at the start line of a marathon I always ask myself; 'What am I doing here?' The difference now is I have an answer: 'Doing something I love, and doing it with other idiots like me!'
Comments
Post a Comment