marathon
Yesterday morning I was terrified and tired – exhausted in fact and the weather resembled my ghastly mood. The week had been too hectic even to my liking and the only thing I wanted to do was to sleep. In stead I did my laundry and went to the grocery shop. I checked the marathon website and told my sister that it had all been ruined already – I had not attached my running number to my top but instead had my clothes still somewhere in the drawers and no idea where to find clean socks with no holes in them.
At the start, when I eventually made it there, I pushed my way forward all the way to the front – behind the real runners.
Start.
The first 15km were easy. I was trotting along the leading girl and I felt like we were flying. Running felt comfortable and easy and so enjoyable. All the panic and horror I had felt only a bit earlier was gone. And we were going fast – really fast.
Somebody came behind be and pushed in front of me. I let her past and realised I was running at the front. I had been in the top 2. I had been in the top 2 in a marathon. The panic came back – this was not my place. I let them go.
Form then on I slowed down. I let the wind get me without fighting back. People were cheering, I had my family and friends there but I just could not push any further. I ran with a comfortable and comfortably slow pace. Somebody went past me. I let them pass and leave me behind.
At the end I didn’t sprint to the finish. I let it roll. The reporter told that the one who had been in the front in the beginning arrived to the finish at the 12th place. How sad - what a drop. But at least I had finished and enjoyed the run, I think.
Later I was enjoying cosmopolitans at a terrace bar, then moved to a club and danced till early hours in the morning. It was a good night out. I was told I didn’t look at all like I had been running that day. I realised – I hadn’t.
This morning, or rather late in the afternoon when I finally decided to climb out of bed my back was sore but my legs felt nothing. Usually, the following day I cannot get down the stairs. Today – nothing. No pain, no swelling, no stiffness. In fact I feel like going for a jog. I didn’t run a marathon yesterday. I finished a marathon.
Now I am annoyed. What got into me? Why did I just give up? I never give up. I never used to give up. And the next chance is next year. And that is a long time.
What made me give up?
At the start, when I eventually made it there, I pushed my way forward all the way to the front – behind the real runners.
Start.
The first 15km were easy. I was trotting along the leading girl and I felt like we were flying. Running felt comfortable and easy and so enjoyable. All the panic and horror I had felt only a bit earlier was gone. And we were going fast – really fast.
Somebody came behind be and pushed in front of me. I let her past and realised I was running at the front. I had been in the top 2. I had been in the top 2 in a marathon. The panic came back – this was not my place. I let them go.
Form then on I slowed down. I let the wind get me without fighting back. People were cheering, I had my family and friends there but I just could not push any further. I ran with a comfortable and comfortably slow pace. Somebody went past me. I let them pass and leave me behind.
At the end I didn’t sprint to the finish. I let it roll. The reporter told that the one who had been in the front in the beginning arrived to the finish at the 12th place. How sad - what a drop. But at least I had finished and enjoyed the run, I think.
Later I was enjoying cosmopolitans at a terrace bar, then moved to a club and danced till early hours in the morning. It was a good night out. I was told I didn’t look at all like I had been running that day. I realised – I hadn’t.
This morning, or rather late in the afternoon when I finally decided to climb out of bed my back was sore but my legs felt nothing. Usually, the following day I cannot get down the stairs. Today – nothing. No pain, no swelling, no stiffness. In fact I feel like going for a jog. I didn’t run a marathon yesterday. I finished a marathon.
Now I am annoyed. What got into me? Why did I just give up? I never give up. I never used to give up. And the next chance is next year. And that is a long time.
What made me give up?
posted by riikka @ 7:45 PM
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