Ding, dong, ding dong.
It was that familiar ring tone again. One that started as a
pleasant wake up alarm months ago that descended into a gruelling reminder of how early it
was.
While the regular monotony of the tolling bells was starting
to get dull, there was only thing crossing the mind. Sunday morning would be
different. There would be a different time to get up, a different motivation.
A
different mental space.
--
Finishing my first half marathon was a long term goal. Having
heard about it for the first time in 2007, I became interested but never
committed further than uttering fluffy words that were more associated with
daydreaming than reality.
This year would be different.
I came across the idea of running the half marathon almost
on accident. An acquaintance posted tickets to another of her friend's on
Facebook. I felt like I was almost prying into a conversation, but it was
enough for me to get excited. As if it was me she handing the ticket to.
Excitedly, I booked a ticket online the following day. Five
days later the field of 8000 would be sold out. A couple of month later, the
marathon field sold out. That's when the scale hit me. What have I got myself
into.
Training started well. Running 4 kilometres was my first
significant achievement and one that reminded me of the task ahead of me: Do
that five times without stopping.
Injuries became frequent, though not through running at all.
Playing football was something I enjoyed, but I understood that if I was to
have any chance of getting fit enough that I would have to give it up. After
two pulled hamstrings, two rolled ankles and a big blow to the confidence, I
gave up football for the season and haven't looked back.
Four kilometres became eight. Eight became 12. Then 12
became 16. Each stride bigger than the first. The confidence was back.
I triple checked the rules just to comfort myself and
stumbled upon something that almost left me more motivated than ever. There are
time restrictions – two of them – that would separate me from running 21km or
running bits and pieces and taking in the rest from a bus shuttle.
Determined, the only way I knew I would be certain would be
to run the opening 9km of the course. The hill-laden opening would determine
whether I'd get through it alright or not. The test of five months of running,
sweating and working hard in the gym. Thank goodness I passed.
The hours are ticking down. One-and-a-bit days until one of
the toughest physical challenges I've undertaken. Whether it's done in my
pre-set time (2:35:00) or not, I'm determined to cross that line victorious. To
signal that I'm more of a runner than ever before.
--
Ding dong, ding dong.
Time to get up. Time to organise things before Sunday.
Time
to prepare.
