I used to do a little…
…but the little wouldn’t do it, so the little got more and more. I keep trying to get a little better…. a little better than before.
Here goes my first half-marathon.
If I am completely honest, I have been putting off writing this post. Actually, I know it needs to be written, so maybe I started the blog in expectation that I would be writing this post… who knows? But… Here we are. So much that has to be said.
This half-marathon goal-dream came out of absolutely nowhere. After completing my first 10km run in a reasonable time for someone of my age/ability every man and his dog was putting pressure on me about doing a half marathon. I hated the pressure. I really wasn’t used to people encouraging me to do something that scared me so much, but was actually good for me. Positive peer pressure? Alien to me. I couldn’t handle it, so I did what I do best in that situation, I rebelled! Refused flatly to even entertain the thought of the distance. I sat at my desk at lunchtime and booked myself solidly throughout the running season… In events of 10km or less, there was no way I was going to do a half marathon. The end.
I had already booked into the SCM when my friend Corinne mentioned that a few of the other girls were running for the White Ribbon Warriors (Domestic Violence charity) and were having singlets made up with Warrior emblazoned across the front and ‘not silent, not violent’ across the back. This really resonated with me. As someone that has seen first hand the effect of Domestic Violence, I wanted to be a part of a group of fit, strong, determined, amazing women that proclaimed themselves ‘Warrior’. I don’t want to play the part of victim in telling this story. There really isn’t that much to tell, I have taken a hit to the side of the head from my (now ex) partner. We were fighting and I have never proclaimed blamelessness. It wasn’t something that happened all the time and whilst I wouldn’t say that I asked for it, I should have walked away before it got to that point.
Still, it happened. As is with things of this nature, it changes you. It enters your psych, it packs itself neatly into your baggage alongside other failures and broken dreams. It eats away at your self-esteem, changes the way you are as a person, determines future actions/reactions. Most of all it makes me sad. It needs to be dealt with.
So early one morning when I was supposed, instead to be at bootcamp I went for a run. I ran the same route that I used to run back in November when I first started running, a simple loop around my suburb. I didn’t even feel particularly sad, I guess I was, but I didn’t feel it, I just ran. I ran the entire 6km loop quite easily, which started me thinking about how difficult it was in those first days. It took me about 28minutes that morning, which made me think about how hard it was that first morning when it took me just over an hour. I was listening to my ipod and something reminded me of my ex-partner and that horrific night. The vision of what I looked like the next day with my mammoth black eye, how I couldn’t leave the house for a week because I looked so terrible. Then next to that vision of the helpless woman in the empty relationship I imagined myself in that Warrior singlet.
That’s when I knew what I had to do. I had to chase my future! I needed to stop running away from my past and re-join the land of the living. I needed to make a goal so big that it scared me and so, I broke through. I ran straight back to bootcamp and told my trainer that I wanted to run a half-marathon. Of course, I have the best trainer in the world so she emailed me my program that morning.
I have followed that training program, well, mostly! I know that I have done the work and I am proud of every single footstep that I have ran. I am fit enough, I am strong enough. I am, simply, enough.
As I write this, I have only 11 days before the dream becomes reality. It hasn’t been easy, though I wouldn’t have it any other way. The last few weeks in particular have been some of the very hardest. I met another man, a great amzaing, wonderful man that I feel an incredible amount for. However, it isn’t the right time for him. It could fair-dinkum rip my heart straight out of my chest and throw it off the Storey Bridge, just like I would like to with my ipod when it goes on the frizz half-way through my long run. It’s gut-wrenchingly fucking balls-up bullshit hard. It’s not fair. Yet, life will still go on. I will keep on getting up and getting on with it, despite the heavy heart that it must be done with. Sometimes I truly feel that I am supposed to be alone and though I am not a lonely sort of person, alone is beginning to get the better of me. I don’t understand why this person could not have come into my life at the *right* time for us? I do beleive in unanswered prayers, where you ask for one thing and then find out later on that it was the last thing that you needed and thank god for not answering your prayers. I am just at a complete loss as to why I *only* seem to have the unanswered variety. Why does it have to be so hard? What did I do to deserve this? Why do I feel so damn sorry for myself? Where will the merry-go-round end? Why doesn’t he want me like I want him? What this all means I suppose is that I still have to work through the baggage.
At first I worked through the fact that I looked and felt like I did due to my resentment towards my ex. Since then I have worked through actually looking nice and developing self-essteem, now I have to work through my fear of being alone forever, of feeling like I am not good enough to deserve a nice man to be treated with equality and respect.
I think I am just going to run it out.. In fact I have so much to run out next weekend, that I have written a list, km by km what I need to get out and also who I am grateful for and how proud I want to make them.
Wow, who knew that I had so much to say about one little half-marathon. I really should pull my head out of my arse about it and just go and freaking RUN!
As fast as I (possibly) can.