I have agreed to do something unthinkable.
I have signed up for a half marathon. This really is remarkably
out of character, and the only reason I am writing about it is to ensure that I
don’t shamelessly bail out.
Dear reader, please do not think I am becoming one of ‘those’
people. You know the ones – they wax lyrical
about how wonderful running makes
them feel and use words like ‘free’ and ‘rush’ and ‘relaxed. I feel none
of the above. I feel only sweaty, red in the face, and closer to death than I’d
ordinarily like.
No I am not one of those people. I rarely feel the need to
push myself, experience any kind of burn or commit to punishing schedules. In
fact, now I am wondering how I can get out it - I do have an old knee injury come
to think of it.
In January a friend announced that he was going to run the
Great North Run this September. He has just emigrated to Australia. I wonder
if I will go to similar lengths to avoid my ordeal?
Surprisingly this will not be my first race. A few years ago I ran a
10k. Well I say ran, jogged is a far more representative verb. Anyway, at the
end of the run (no doubt due to endorphins and hysteria) I felt like I could
have kept going. Please remember that it is
very easy to say that you could have kept going once you are wrapped in tin
foil and sipping lucozade. It is on this hunch, 3 years ago, that I ‘could have
plodded on a little further’, that I have signed up to run 13 blooming miles.
This is a disaster.
I will be humiliated as
my bottom wobbles in my joggers. I will become a running bore who is only able to talk about ‘distance tracking’. I
will probably have to do a little more than download the Nike Plus app and buy
a new running bra. But that can wait until tomorrow, I've made a start at least.
I promise not to let you to speak to Rod until it's done "nightmare" is his usual response to being asked how it felt to complete a half marathon. "Never again" being the next.
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