Skip to main content

Running is my life (no really thats what I do at the moment!)

I've let my blog go a bit dormant over the past year. This last few months have not really been terribly travel blog worthy but more a tale of running. I entered in the Valencia Marathon back in January and 10 months later here I am a month out from the big day.

I'm not going to lie, the training has been hard. Some days are definitely worse than others and some are quite simply the best days of my life. Curiously I have just read an article on Manic Depression and I think this is how my running feels while I am on the roads/towpaths/tracks/foot tunnels to bring in the miles of training that one needs to do to prepare for a day where you run 42.2km. But there is one thing for sure, every time I climb my 3 floors to home and I gulp back water I feel better. A sense of achievement sweeps over me and I recall the grafitti ("Have a nice day" was yesterdays discovery), the smiles and raised eyebrows of acknowledgement of fellow runners, fierce geese chases, disgruntled canal cyclists and clapping supporters.

My wee patch of poppy planting
at the Tower of London
Since July and an unceremonious fall down stairs at work where I sliced open my chin and immobilised my right arm for a month and my senses for longer, I have been unemployed. I decided to leave my job because I lost any sense of purpose, a deep loathing for the management style and a hope I could earn some man money for a change. And like anyone who has had a period of unemployment this can cause you to second guess every minute detail of your life. In a recent chat to my Mum I blurted "what do I care, I can't relate to anyone at the moment, I don't have a job, I don't have a partner, I'm not planning a wedding, building a house, raising a child/ren, and as for a mortgage I don't give a shit, I'm training for a marathon and noone wants to relate to being tired, let alone what motivates me to do it to myself!'. Poor Mum didn't know where to go with this, so turned my attention to charitable work she is doing instead. Bless her. I signed up to lay poppies at the Tower of London the next day to commemorate the start of the First World War.

When I signed up for the marathon I had a few friends suggest I do the run for charity. As is commonly done here in the UK people have to do something physical to gain funds. Suggesting its really useful to focus the mind when the going gets tough. This would involve asking all my friends with the above responsibilities to give to a cause of my choosing. No, I was running this marathon for me. It is My challenge. I just didn't realise how much of a challenge it would prove to be.

In the count down to the day I plan to keep a wee note on here of my progress and the tools I use to get me across the finish line.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

ticking boxes has never been so enjoyable

Arriving in Vienna hadn't started well. The door to the train wouldn't open. Finding another open door, I was left with a mother and 1 year old with a Trunkie, no husband, 4 year old, luggage or money. Turns out the family were Hungarian-Australian and on their way to the airport Oz bound so doing my good travellers deed for the day packed Mum, son and Trunkie off to the airport in a shuttle. I really hope they all made it home together. I found my way to the hostel and then given the bright sunshine took to the streets having missed the opportunity to take photos of every other city in sun so far! I made my way to the central Basilica and then wandered the streets finding a Schnitzel house filled to the rafters, a ornate clock, music singing through the streets, pianos being practised on and some of the most beautiful shoes I have ever seen (fit only for Elton John let it be said!). The film festival on that evening started at 9pm and with a rain shower about to hit I opted f...

My My Myanmar

I have been touched, pinched, squeezed and had my back rubbed as I was sick. Myanmar is one phenomenal place which I have so much hope for. Hope for democracy, hope for development and hope for conservation, all in a gradual process without losing its authenticity. I have felt safe, with my large amounts of cash (remember no ATM’s so budgeting became a real past time of all travellers not just the “budget” ones) and in pilgrimaging crowds, in villages and on rickety hill top roads, travelling solo or in a crowd. Not once did I fear for my personal safety or that of my belongings. I had to stop myself on the first day from being so travel weary and closed. I had to trust. I had to open up and Myanmar may well have taught me one of my greatest lessons on my Big Adventure. captive in Myanmar There were moments of democratic desire, like an aged village monk carrying a bamboo log who stopped me to ask “Do you know Aung San?” to which I replied quietly knowing it was a very c...

Footsteps for the fallen

rDear Dad, Today has been the single best use of this day in the past 9 years. And I hope my story makes you proud of your little girl. Today at 12 noon being 1am on the 7th of March in NZ I set off on a half marathon around the Silverstone F1 track in England. I clearly had DAD printed on my left hand, my nails painted red and black and a capital A on my right hand. Who would have thought I'd be in Cantab colours! This was all the inspiration I needed to get around the track. I set off at a strong pace making the first 2 miles in 18.45. I was supposed to be running a 10 minute mile pace but like most long runs I needed the loo and that spurs me on. I stopped for the loo at 2.5 miles and this put me off entirely as the break must have been 4+ minutes. Alas I took the inclines, hairpin turns and celebrity participants in my stride. At 9 miles I felt strong as I ran down a gravel hill towards the last stretch to reach  the final lap on the track. I spotted my good friends Holly...