One Marathon Task by cyberpixie

I know I have been decidedly quiet on the blogging front this week. There's a good reason for this. I really haven't run. *awaits derision*

On reality TV, people always talk about going on a journey to having reached the end of the show to either win the prize or get a different life. They talk about it has changed them. Of course, if you have been watching the whole series of the reality TV show you would have seen the highs and the lows. This week has very much been the latter for me in the reality TV show of "Pixie attempts to run a marathon" - we're quite a way through the series and so far the cast is fairly small and the credits are rubbish. The soundtrack is fairly good though... 

I really cannot put my finger on why my motivation has plummeted through the floor. It's so close to the actual day now, the last thing I should be doing is slacking off, yet this week...I've knowingly overslept, skived the gym, made excuses to myself saying "I'll run tomorrow..." and yet...haven't. I don't understand why because I have been enthused for so many weeks. 

I ran 17 miles today, though. However, it was such a mental as well as a physical battle. The first few miles were ridiculous. I found out my waterbottle had fallen out of my waist bag around 3 miles in (I am all for superstitions so this did not bode well). I got into my stride a bit and then around miles  6 and 7 it felt like the task of Sisyphus. I had to mentally say to myself, "just to the next lamp-post...", "just to that tree..." - it was just a hell of a struggle to keep one foot in front of the other. It didn't help that I had been - true to type this week - putting off today's run so I didn't even head out til gone half-3. 

On top of that, some other stuff in my life isn't great at the moment and was stressing me out before I'd even left, so I felt like I headed out with the world's weight on my shoulders and I never really got comfortable and I hated finding myself running alone around Richmond Park as it got darker and darker - not doing that again in a hurry.

When I clambered on the bus home from Richmond, the bus driver said, "shouldn't you be running?" - he was lucky I was tired or he would have got a bit of a sarcastic response...

But, I did it...I guess that's something isn't it? But because I headed out feeling low and because the run wasn't as good as it should be...I don't know. It feels a bit like a hollow victory, even though I know it's not. 

Long runs are a terribly lonely undertaking on your own, I have had company the last few weeks and it felt like I was attacking this ridiculous mileage with people alongside me and that helped spur me forwards. Today I just feel has been such a feeble attempt and I hope the actual day is a lot better than this. I am sure it will be. I don't mean to be morose, but I suspect a combination of factors has just left me feeling a bit...well...let's hope this next week is better. 

Hope your weekends are more sparkling. 

xx

ps: in other news I have a rather nice blister on one of my toes. SEXY.