Well, I’ve done well at blogging daily about my marathon mission! I was going to give myself grief about it but then I remembered I’m not 14 anymore and therefore don’t necessarily have time to write my diary everyday.
So forgive me, for it is ten days since my last blog. My blog that noone is reading because I haven’t told anyone about it, sent them the link, or promoted it in anyway. Maybe a career in PR is really not the right path for me. Anyway… I digress.
The last ten days have been spent, amongst other things, working out the technicalities of wordpress well enough to be able to change my blog name to something actually related to the topic, and not the name of my short lived New Year blog about whinging.
And with this revelation (which took approximately 4 days, phoning a friend, and using the help facility), The Dangerous Athlete was born. Here I am. Hello.
As well as work, Ailsa’s birthday party which wrote off an ENTIRE day (see, not a sportswoman), I have also been spending the last ten days training and fundraising. I had a bit of a crisis today (I think hormone related!) and started to seriously doubt I could do this. I could spend the next hour and several paragraphs discussing my negativity, but I’ve just had a donation from a friends partner. The message said ‘Macmillan nurses made my Dads last days comfortable and valued. Thank you for running for this cause.’
I’ve got a huge lump in my throat and I know that whatever it takes to get the money, and get round the race, I will do it, for that very reason.
We got paid on Tuesday so I manipulatively waited until lunchtime on pay day to send my ‘begging email’, and was amazed by the donations I’ve had come in. People who I would have never thought would have sponsored me have come through with donations and good luck messages, its been amazing. We had a meeting today as well where Gina got the group to brainstorm some ideas, mainly revolving round fancy dress, but some more practical ones too…and now I’ve had time to digest it all I’m pretty confident that between me and George we are going to get some great stuff organised. Her emails, which have bordered on frightening in the detail and planning (I can tell why she’s good at her job!), are just what I need to smash my target!
The training has not been as encouraging as the sponsorship. I know I’m doing myself an injustice feeling like this, but to only be up to 4.1 miles at this stage feels like I’ve not made much progress. That said, I’ve only been back running for just over 2 weeks!
I think my training highlights were getting to the top of Red Lane for the first time in a couple of years without having to stop… felt like Rocky I have to admit. It took a lot of self restraint to not finish the run through the village punching the air and doing the Mo-bot at every car that passed! Passing the 4 mile mark was pretty good too.
Me and Chris went out for our first (now planned in regular??) Wednesday morning run. This was possibly what tipped the scales into negativity! At 6am the alarm went off. In fairness given how I normally react to our alarms going off, I was up like a shot. It did feel like it was now or never, if I’d have stayed in bed the chances of me and Chris ever running together were slim, and therefore my chances of success in the marathon were null and void, as I’d have never been able to train. This is due to fear of dark, and the long running routes round here falling into three categories. Pitch black bypass. Pitch black canal. Country roads. Not that safe for a lady. Who is exhausted and wouldn’t be able to run away from my grandma after 5 minutes on foot.
Anyway, it was the hardest run I’ve done yet for this race. The bypass was pitch, pitch black. We couldn’t see where we were putting our feet, and whilst I know the path, I really don’t want to have to give back nearly £800 of sponsorship money because I slipped on a slug at 6.30am and broke my leg. Plus the fact you’re running with someone, who even though you live with them and you know they love you, you still want to impress them, and I was impressing noone at that time. Plus his legs are about 5 foot long each. The clincher was getting to the top of the drag up the bypass and turning round to come back gradually downhill through the village.
Me [struggling for breath, legs seizing] “My god that was hard, how did you find that?”
Him [barely sweating] “Fine”.
But, I survived. I had to lie down on the rug when we got back, but I survived, and worked a full day thereafter. Thank god its Friday tomorrow though. Rest day. Then adding another mile onto the relentless bastard that is the Padiham bypass on Saturday morning. I can barely wait!