So I just completed the London Marathon yesterday. Pretty cool eh? Along side anther 36,000 people. Not bad going. Have I ever run 26.2 miles before? Nope. Have I ever run close to that? Not at all. Here is my secret. My mind.
Like I just said, there was another 36,000 people doing the marathon too. So although it’s not the most rarest thing to do in your life, it certainly was the hardest. My training was pretty basic. I’m a bit lazy after my little boy goes to bed. I believe my work is done for the day and I deserve to sit down have some dinner and a glass of wine, and not move. So the thought of having to train for this marathon, was not one for me. Don’t get me wrong, I went for a couple of little runs round the block, but yes, I gave up after about 5 times, thinking it will be okay. People asked ‘have you not trained?! You are going to injur yourself!’, friends laughed, called me crazy, I’ll never be able to do it etc. Not too long after having a baby, eating rubbish nearly everyday, I did have a few doubts in mind, but nothing to stop me from trying.
The day began with a rush to get my child up and ready to go to his Aunties for the day. 5am start(like most mornings for us mums), a rush of eating your breakfast on the go while doing a hundred other things, and nearly missing the train up there because you are silly and think the station is shut. Blame the tiredness. But we got there, and I got in line to start. I was pretty nervous, over hearing how most people had previously done 20mile training routes prior to the race, seeing athlete looking people while I’m in my odd matching frilly socks. But never mind, I thought, how hard can this possibly be it’s just a long run right?!
So the man gets us all in line, says a few things and before I knew it we were off! There was so many people beside me, if I had taken my phone the picture would have be incredible. Thousands of people cheering, smiling, singing, shouting, crying! It was amazing. 5 miles down, I’m beginning to get worn out. I’m looking around and everyone else seems fine. So I whack up my music and I carry on running, I forget to think about my stitch or my belly crying out with hunger. 7 miles down, and I’m pretty knackered already. But I just keep on smiling and waving at the children who are cheering us all on. 10 miles down, ah this isn’t too bad actually, nearly half way there and I’m alright, I can do this, this is fine my body is fine. Keep going. As it starts to get to 12 miles I feel something rubbing on my foot, it’s really painful, it feels like the shoelace so I stop at the side and have a look, I can’t see anything, but god it hurts. And now I’ve stopped my legs have gone all weak? They are all wobbly too and I can barely walk. My head is also throbbing probably through dehydration. I also need the toilet. This sucks. I try to run again but it’s really really hard. But I see a sign for toilets a couple of miles ahead so I try to run my best. It feels like forever but I reach the 14mile mark and I see the queue for the toilets. It’s ever so long. It will take at least half an hour, but I’m starting to get a belly ache so I have no choice, so I join the queue.
As my guess was correct, half an hour later I manage to use the toilet. As soon as I sit down my whole body feels like it’s shutting down, I really cannot do this. I want to cry. Everyone was right you cannot do this with no training. My body is just giving up and telling me it’s had enough. I’m so disappointed. I have to pull out and go home a quitter. What was I thinking I ask myself. I’m embarrassed, ashamed and so incredibly disappointed. I carry on walking the race as best as I can, until I see someone I can ask how to give up and pull out. It’s shameful walking like this. Everybody else is still going, but my feet are throbbing my blisters are killing me, my head is banging, I feel like faint, what do I do? I suppose I could try and ask God for his help. So I do. I ask him to help me find the strength I know I’ve still got to help me do this. I need Him, and I need some encouragement. I hope He is listening.
I carry on walking, and within a few minutes I feel my mind telling me that I can do this. Telling me to ignore my body, my body is just getting weak, but it can do it too. It’s telling me that I’m not a quitter, that I came here to finish this and I’m strong and I need to take this home. So I start to jog, I feel stronger and powerful. I jog a bit faster. Soon, my feet begin to feel less painful, my head stops throbbing and I’m smiling again. I’m running and I’m enjoying this again. I turn my music up even louder and I run as fast as I can. Soon, I see the 18 mile mark. I can’t believe it. I haven’t got far now, I can do this. I really can.
I soon see the 20 mile mark. 20miles?! Where did the time go! I cannot believe still that I’m getting there. 21..22..23..24. What?! 2 more miles?! I’m actually going to do this!
I hear crowds cheering and shouting ‘you’ve got this keep going!’. I actually have. I’ve actually got this. 25..
1 more mile! I’m running as fast as my tired legs can take me, and I can almost see the finish line.. 400metres to go the signs say. Everybody is going crazy! They are chanting and singing and I feel amazing! 200metres.. I can see the finish. Do not stop now, you have done this!!
And I have! I cross the finish line! I want to cry, I want to scream I want to cheer! I want to hug someone! I want to also collapse. But I’ve done it. I really have. This feels amazing. I cannot walk or talk but I feel amazing. I feel like a winner. My medal on, pictures getting taken. I feel incredible. 5 hours 20mins?! Wow!
So how on earth?! For someone who runs very very little. Okay, in fact never. Run that far?! It was my mind. My mind told me that you can achieve anything you ever want in life. You just have to believe. Never have doubts, you are a winner. And from this day forward, I’m going to achieve everything I desire.