The week or two since my last post have been horrible. I haven't felt like writing here simply because I have lost my mojo for running, When I signed myself up to do this challenge I knew it would be hard, and I knew my body would disagree with it, just like a young child would disagree to being fed sprouts with a broccoli sauce, but I never really comprehended the amount of work, the limitless amount of things that would hinder my training, the amount of consideration that goes into diet and fluids, breathing, running form, posture AND the pain I would suffer. I really was that naive to think it was a simple matter of putting some trainers on, running around for a bit. EASY.
I have a new respect for Madam Marathon.
If you are wondering why the stocks and shares of Deep Heat have gone up, you're looking in the right place. I have had blisters the size of gumballs, a small metatarsal fracture on my foot, chronic stitch, severe groin pain, oh and did I mention the vomiting?
If Google had some form of search result monitoring system, I'm pretty sure the google men in black would have been round my house to rush me to A&E, or failing that, register me dead.
There have been tears and tauntrums that have made me look like a mad woman. I have always considered myself to have a strong will, but running.... well, running is my nemisis. Who would have thought that putting one foot in front of the other and kind of hopping would break even the strongest of minds. I would like to see Buddha try. Perhaps a few readers out there are looking at this and shaking their heads, as if to say 'get over it' but for me it's hard, and this blog for me is all about the ups and the downs, not just the ups (although I would like some of those now please)
On my latest 6 mile 'run' (more of a hobble) I was in floods of tears. The passers-by must have thought something traumatic had happened. Oh no. If a friend was there, they would have reasured them and said:-
'Oh don't worry. That's just Ro. She's just attempting to run, nothing to be alarmed about, she cries a lot when she runs, not sure why'
Instead, I had to drag myself home whilst other runners sprinted past.
Whilst out and about in town recently I came across one of those Halmark -type posters, splashing waves on a sunset backdrop, quite beautiful, The words read...
'“Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity but in doing it.”
Now, pre-running Rowen would have embraced this sentiment, smiled and walked away. Post-running girl ... well, I looked at the words, shook my head in a patronising way, the same way I had shaken my head at the white plimsoles. I gritted my teeth, smiled, laughed to myself and thought:
' To whoever wrote this: I will kindly allow you to run a mile or two in my shoes and see how you feel about this after. OK?'
This is going to be hard, but I'm no quitter.