Several months ago I signed up for the half marathon. Sweetie was only a couple of months old and September seemed like a distant destination, it was an entire season away! Life, of course gets busy but my training was going reasonably well, I wasn't doing as much as I would have liked to but I was chipping away at it slowly and was looking forward to completing the run. A half marathon is a long distance for me and I saw it as a personal milestone. I was using it as a place marker in my life. It was going to be testament to what can be achieved in a post-babies life. An example of something I had to work really hard for and could be really proud of achieving. Yes, I had rather built it up in my mind, don't you think?
There were a few hurdles to overcome in the last 6 weeks before the race, not least of which was mum's illness, but I decided to run anyway. It was a hard, hard run and I pulled out after around 11kms with a very sore back and carrying a huge feeling of disappointment. You know those motivational posters that declare that did not finish is better than did not start? I'm not sure I agree with them now. On paper I get it but it does not feel good to not finish (too many negatives?)and the experience has just made me very determined to finish next year. It will be 12mths later than planned but, hopefully, just as sweet. Mr Duyvken pointed out that if I had started intending to run 10kms I would be thrilled and he's right, of course. Half a half marathon isn't too bad when you think about it.
Doing hard things doesn't always work out the way we hope but they're always worth doing. Always.