Thursday, 9 June 2016

A Marathon?

Sleep deprivation sends you mad.  Or maybe sleep deprivation brings you some clarity.  Or maybe sleep deprivation just messes with your head and it's bloody awful.  During the midst of my sleep deprivation haze and the days where I prayed for just two measly hours sleep last month, I went and entered the 2017 London Marathon. 

Yep. You read that right.  That isn't a typo.  I've gone and entered a marathon.    

You see, I was never a runner.  These legs weren't particularly made for running. Those of you that have read my blog for a while will know back in 2014 I began training for a half marathon.  It nearly killed me. There were tears, phone calls to my husband mid-run because I couldn't muster the energy to run back home, and there was also that time I wanted to chop all my hair off because it had become so matted during a morning misty run. You can read all about that running journey here, here and here.

But, for all the tears, the pain, the times I really didn't want to run, nothing compared to that feeling of accomplishment when I actually ran the full 13.1 miles.  I was exhausted and ecstatic, and the medal hung in our living room for at least a year before my husband put it in a drawer.   

I've always wanted to do the London Marathon.  I've watched it on the television and wondered could I do that? Would I dare? 

I'm going to say something that sounds really cheesy here.  Having and planning for a baby, being pregnant twice and going through labour twice have really given me a new appreciation for my body.  It's alot stronger than I think.  It's pretty amazing.  And I'm only just starting to realise that things I think I can't do, I actually can.  I don't want to wake up at 80 with a list of could have's and what ifs.   

The London Marathon is a random draw in October, so I won't find out if I've got a place until then. This also means I need to get running in case I am picked. 

At the moment I've done about five runs.  I can run about two miles and that feels pretty tough.  My legs have forgotten they can run.  My lungs have definitely forgotten how to breathe in enough oxygen whilst running. It's hard.  It's not enjoyable. But I know if I keep doing it, then at some point it will click, and the two will become three miles and the three will become four miles, which needs to turn into twenty six miles at some point (I've actually just Googled how far a marathon is and the first article to come up was three reasons why you shouldn't run a marathon...ha!).

I'll be posting running updates and my progress from the two miles I can barely run at the moment.  I was going to end with an inspiring quote or something but I think we all do things that scare us or that we work towards and feel proud.  It's not just about running. It's a personal target.  Here goes... 

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