Not a lot to report on the training front, in fact absolutely nothing to report as my legs are in no fit state to do anything and I'm enjoying a few days of complete rest.
I've been reflecting on the whole experience leading up to the marathon and trying to analyse certain things about Sundays run.
The last 22 weeks (I've just counted them) have been such an eye opener and such a steep learning curve for me. To start off with I entered the marathon on a whim just to see if I'd get accepted - I do these daft things from time to time and more often than not they backfire. Well it did backfire as I did get accepted and immediately thought 'oh bugger'.
Once it had penetrated my stupid brain that I was going to have to run 26.2 miles, I thought that I'd better get fit, and PDQ if I wasn't going to look like a complete idiot on the day. Hubs was away for most of last year in the Falklands so I didn't train much and I classed 6miles as a long run and only occasionally did I ever venture beyond around 4M.
And so my journey began. To say that I didn't follow a proper schedule is an understatement. If I'm being brutally honest, most of my training was done on a 'I'll see how I feel today' basis with hardly any structure. The only thing going for me was that it was consistent. I originally got hold of a 20 week schedule which didn't suit me so I started an 18 week one and then a 12 week one....I took bits which appealed to me and the other bits which I didn't like the look of, I ignored
The bulk of my training has been through the horrible winter where we had gales and rain for most of it. The dark nights proved to be a challenge as I had to abandon my favourite trail runs in favour of laps around the village where it was well lit. Doing 7x2M laps is certainly mentally challenging especially when I was passing the end of my street every 20mins or so and sometimes so cold and wet that I couldn't feel my fingers or toes, and my cheeks were stinging with the hail - the temptation to just end those runs and go home was unbearable at times but I'm glad that I persevered.
Then only 7 weeks before the marathon I injured my knee. I thought all my hard work and hopes were going to be shattered on that particular run as I could barely walk home and thought from the amount of pain I was in that I'd done something quite drastic. A visit to the GP diagnosed arthritis and the physio confirmed that my knee was wonky...he actually used the word wonky.
Onto race day - I was quite pleased that I actually got myself onto the starting line having avoided any illnesses during the training apart from a couple of sniffles and the obligatory tiredness which I'm sure I'll have forever. I was also in the best possible shape that I could've been in on that day. I could use the knee, or the lack of sleep as excuses but what's the point as you're only fooling yourself. I knew that I'd done the best I could in training and now had to convert that into the race and if I turned in a poor performance then I was only letting myself down.
I've decided that running a marathon is like having a baby - hours of pain, grunting, pushing your body to the limit, sweating buckets, and feeling like shouting abuse at people who repeatedly try to encourage you by saying 'you can do it', or 'you're nearly there'. Then it's all over and you say 'never again' and spend the next week walking like John Wayne....10 mins after the finish and you're asking 'when's the next one?'.
So, I've learned what training it takes to complete a marathon; that I'm physically and mentally stronger than I ever imagined I was or ever could be; that marathons strip you bare and reveal all, and I mean all of your weaknesses whether they be physical or mental; that you can actually hit the depths of despair and have to search very deep within yourself to keep going when your legs, lungs, brain are telling you otherwise; that wearing the correct trainers is the difference between success and disaster; that lucozade sport makes a mark like bird poo when it dries if you spill it on your shorts; that no amount of mind over matter can make your 6th gel taste like a tuna sarnie; that it's bloody fantastic when you cross that finish line and if you could bottle that feeling and sell it you'd be a millionaire
2 days on and the high is starting to disappear - you realise that something which has dominated your life every day for the last 5-6 months is no longer there, like losing a mate
But you know what 'there were days when I didn't think I could run a marathon, but there's a lifetime of confidence knowing that I have'
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