So I finished my first marathon last week in around 3:48. Two years ago I’d never run more than 3 miles without collapsing. A year ago I’d have been shocked and apalled at the suggestion of running 26.2 miles without stopping.
In April when I ran my first half-marathon at Edinburgh I thought that that was far enough, and that it would be daft to run any further. After Edinburgh I realised that this wasn’t going to stop - I was becoming addicted. The obvious thing to do was feed this budding addiction and so I entered the Loch Ness marathon.
Many months later as I crossed the line I was overcome by an overwhelming feeling that I’d just completed one of the most challenging and fulfilling things I’d ever done. Days later, as the pain subsided and I found to my great delight that I could walk down stairs again, my thoughts turned towards the next event. It would have to be tougher, and would have to be longer.
I’ve found my next race: the Thames Trot. This is a 50 mile ultramarathon along the Thames path, from Oxford to Henley on Thames. To add to the fun, last year the run took place in heavy snow on a day I spent in the park building an igloo ( flickr.com ).
4 months to go. Let’s see how this goes…
“To call running “fun” would be a misuse of the word. Running can be enjoyable. Running can be rejuvenating. But in a pure sense of the word, running is not fun.