“Have you gone mad?!”
I think that’s what my reasonable self wants to scream at my impulsive self when impulsive self signed up for a half marathon happening in about 29 days at the time of writing.
With a baby, the cold winter days and a very busy full time job, I have no idea (actually I have a slight idea that involves blood and tears) how I’d pull it off. Especially since I haven’t done proper running for the last nine months. I gave myself 9 months ( you know the 9 months in, 9 months out thing) to be a sloth – meaning not run, hibernate in my silk pyjamas under warm blankets, drink when I can (read: often) and devote my entire life to baby, husband, house and job.
But I’ve had enough! I need a goal. I need to commit to something. BECAUSE my clothes don’t fit anymore and I couldn’t live on silk pyjamas and stretch jeans my entire life. I need to lose my belly and thigh bulges. I need to fit in my size 0 clothes again because the alternative is to update my entire wardrobe. I need to be motivated again. I need.
This half marathon is nothing big, just around the corner of our house, literally, so there would be no big logistics involved. I’ve also arranged for a friend to look after the baby for three hours, in which time we hope to be finished running 21.5 kilometers. Earlier would be a bonus of course.
Our last long run was 12 kilometers last weekend and with a few stops to attend to a crying baby in a buggy, we managed it in just under 1hr and 30 minutes. That run probably gave me the
wrong idea that I can run a half. After all I already have three marathons under my belt, right? But I think three marathons doesn’t count anymore after nine months of hardly any running.
But I am super woman. Or at least that’s what I think of myself sometimes. I genuinely believe that I can run this half marathon in 29 days and not finish last. I also genuinely believe that my slim, healthy, size 0 body (like that person in the photo) runs at 6 in winter morning while everybody is still warmly snug under their blankets. Which is very far from reality because at 6am, a baby is usually still attached to one of my boobs.
I already paid the registration fee (€10 so if ever I won’t be able to run, it won’t hurt that much) and I am even putting it up here so that’s a lot of pressure. I am a masochist like that.
Who wants to bet I can actually finish this marathon under 2:23 minutes (or the time of the slowest in that race last year)? #halfin30