I AM at my wits end. The last two weeks have been an emotional roller coaster and since the final countdown to the marathon began on Monday I have flitted, minute by minute, between overwhelming enthusiasm and abject terror.
Everyone keeps asking me when the race is, when I am going down to London, and wishing me luck. One minute I don’t think I will make it round the course, and the next I am swaggering about talking about collecting my medal.
I came to the realisation this week that I have never worked this hard for anything in my life.
Training wise it’s been three weeks of tapering, the plantar fasciitis has subsided, thankfully, largely due to some spongy innersoles and rest. Last week I did a 14 miles and this weekend 10. Since then it’s been light jogging,
A number of the #vlmfamily on twitter have been dropping like flies and I have been reading on in horror at those who have been training for months only to get the flu and aches and pains now.
Fingers crossed for everyone trying to make it to that start line on Sunday.
I’ve come to realise that it’s one of those things where just turning up is an achievement.
I’ve even upped my fund raising target to £3k this morning. That’s double the amount Wessex Cancer Trust wanted me to raise.
Standing at the start of Worksop half in October wondering if I could get round it seems like a long time ago now.
One of my biggest worries at the time was not making the £1,500 for charity and I am so pleased, and grateful, to have smashed it.
This week an article went in my hometown paper the Alton Herald, so I’m hoping that will weed out a few old friends who’ll pay my justgiving page a visit.
On Wednesday my father made the trek across London for me, to visit the expo and collect my number and chip for the race. Thanks Dad!
He returned not only with my kit bag, and some free beer but also armed with a few top tips. Without my family I genuinely don’t think I would make it to that start line.
He’s also booked us into the Spaghetti House for Saturday night’s tea. It’ll probably be the last pasta dish I opt for in a while.
So here’s my strategy for the day:
Don’t think about 26.2 miles. It’s an inhumane distance to walk, let alone run. I am simply running four FIVE miles runs and two THREE milers.
Don’t start off too fast.
Ignore pantomime horses as they overtake me. Inside those costumes are probably those experienced runners who are all lithe and sinewy. The people who genuinely like exercise and don’t just do it so they can eat crisps.
Picture crossing the line, picture all those miles stretched out behind me that I have already owned.
Smile and try and enjoy it.
A big thanks in advance to my sideline supporters, my husband Dave, my folks Chris and Margaret, my in-laws Jill and Ashley and brother in law Chris, my auntie Mary and uncle Roger, and friends Sarah, Carl, Kay, Tom, Charlotte and Leon.
I shall be looking out for all of you, a great distraction for me.
I’ll be back next week to let you know how I got on. Wish me luck.
Keep on running.