Sunday, October 25, 2009

Marathons are hard. 42.195 kilometers of sweating, puffing, blisters and doubting.The doubting's probably the hardest part. Did I train hard enough? Will I make it? Why am I doing this? All that lack of self-belief floats around those few firing neurons that aren't totally absorbed in the process of breathe-in, breathe-out, left foot, right foot. It starts as a whisper that you try to drown out with those boppy tunes on your MP3 but the whisper gets louder until it's like the voice of a hiker lost in the Grand Canyon desperate to be found. Somewhere you have to draw up all the strength inside to run on despite the internal silent screams that are telling you to stop.

Unfortunately I'm not yet speaking with the voice of experience. The farthest I've run so far is 25k (that's not including the Warwick Pentathrun earlier this year - 42.2 k in 5 events over 2 days). I'm 46 and have just come through one of the hardest years of my life. I'm suffering from over-training syndrome at the moment but still planning on running the Canberra Marathon in April next year. Insane? Well, maybe but if I don't run that maybe will be a definite!!

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