24-07-18
Tuesday. Runday. Three days post Race For Life, Pretty Muddy 5k.
No sooner had I completed the Couch to 5k plan, 3 weeks early I might add, than I’d downloaded the 5k to 10k app. I was thirsty for more and my first 10k race was now less than 2 weeks away.
Even though I knew could comfortably run for 37 minutes the plan for this today was run for 25 minutes – walk for 1 minute – run for 25 minutes. I was absolutely bricking it. Not because I was doubting my ability to complete two runs that equated to 50 minutes, but because I knew I’d get bored. I’d been listening music and podcasts since my second run but today I woke up with an over whelming feeling that I needed to find myself a running buddy.
I had an awful, stomach churning feeling of dread. A familiar feeling of anxiety was beginning to rear its ugly head. I couldn’t work out why was I feeling this way. I knew I was being silly but I couldn’t shake it.
While I was waiting for childling number 3 to finish his swimming lesson, I was telling a friend how I was feeling about the upcoming run. In response I was assured that “this is the wall everyone hits.” Hold the phone! So I wasn’t going crazy? Then came this priceless piece of advice came, “Be happy, be driven, be reliant on nobody but yourself.” You know that moment when your mind clicks into place and you know you need to have a word with yourself? Well this was one of those moments. I’d come this far mostly running solo. I have of course had amazing support from family, friends and even strangers along the way, and that has been (and continues to be) invaluable, but it was me who was out there clocking up the kilometers, one step at a time.
A note on supportive strangers: please never underestimate the impact a friendly “Well Done!” or “Looking good!” or even just a genuine smile can have on a struggling runner. Trust me, I’ve experienced it first hand. A few weeks ago I was pushing my way through a very hot and very difficult run and starting to feel like I would need to stop short when I approached two older gentlemen who I’d run past twice already. One of them must have seen I was struggling and very casually said, “Doing well Girl! Keep going!” Those few simple but kind words of encouragement was all it took for me to complete the planned session and to feel very positive about it too. I’ve briefly mentioned random acts of kindness before and this is a classic example. Kindness costs nothing but can mean so much.
Anyway, back to that Tuesday. After skirting around it all day I headed back to where my journey had started; the place of that very first run. But actually getting out of the car was proving difficult. So I sent a quick Snapchat. That way I knew I had to go. Losing face wasn’t an option.
Standing at that now very familiar spot, stretching my too quickly ageing hips, a familiar feeling began to stir; I was nervous but excited at the same time. I pressed play on my freshly made playlist (a mixture of Pitch Perfect and The Script. I’m very aware that’s an unlikely coupling, but hey, that’s me!), started Strava and my fairly new running watch and I was off.
Now I’m not going to lie and say that as soon as my feet hit the ground that was it, because it wasn’t. Oh no, it took approximately 18 minutes for that to happen. 18 long, hot, clock watching minutes. But it was at around this time my head started to clear and with The Barden Bellas serenading me with Bruno Mars’ classic Just The Way You Are, I knew that something special was about to happen. Maybe it was being back on that trail and being able to physically feel how much stronger I was now compared to my laughable level of fitness at the end of April, or maybe it was just the newly found self belief I had in myself. Whatever it was, I was feeling strong; physically and mentally.
I knew I could run 5k without stopping now, I’d done many times already, so that was the plan. Run in straight line for 5k and then I’d have to do another 5k to get back to the start. There was no pressure to run for longer than the initial 5k though. I’d just do as much as I could then walk a little before running some more.
By the time I got to 4.5k the metaphorical thirst had resurfaced. I wanted to push myself further. Find out what my legs could really do. I’d covered 8k before, but that was with a few 1 minute walks thrown in as per the plan. Now I wanted to see how far I could run without walking inbetween.
Soon my fancy new watch was telling me that I’d hit 6k and I was feeling fabulous. 7k then 8k. Now, this is where the real fun started! One part of my brain was saying “You’ve done it, you can walk now.” But the other part, the more pushy part, was saying, “Just get to 9k and then you know you wont stop until you get to 10k.” At this point, I’m not sure I was very fussed on the pushy part…it knew me too well! So that was it. I was actually going to run my first ever 10k, and I was going to do it alone!
I feel it needs to be noted that at 9.5k I cried. Not ball your eyes out crying, but enough to send a proud little droplet of achievement streaming down one of my glowing pink cheeks. But that was nothing compared how proud I felt when I pressed stop on my watch at 10k! 1 hour, 11 minutes and 21 seconds after I started running, the run that I didn’t even want to do a mere 10 hours before, I had finished! To say I couldn’t believe it is a huge understatement. Even writing this a week on I still don’t know what happened that day really. I do think though that maybe it was a defining moment in my running journey. You know the ones I mean; when everything just aligns and your head is in the right place. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m capable of achieving a lot more than I actually allow myself to believe…
Running towards a better me 