When James came back for Christmas break he managed to convince me to go for a run with him. He who has been doing nothing but physical activity day in, day out for the past 8 months told me it would be a good idea for me to accompany him around the block. I ran 800m and I was done. After the first hill just around the corner from my house my lungs were ready to jump out of my chest so naturally I stopped and started walking.
What happened next changed everything..
He stopped too, but only long enough to convince me to start running again, he dragged me along the next straight, kicked my ass up the next hill and regardless of how slow I was running (I feel as though running is the wrong word for how slow I was actually going) he did not let me stop.
That day I ‘ran’ 3.6kms. I did something I had never done before. For once I didn’t let my mind get the best of me and although my body wanted to shut down immediately as my first foot landed on my driveway I felt incredible. I had just ‘run’ further than I ever had in my entire life.
From that moment I was hooked.
From that day I decided I would run three days a week, each week increasing my distance, improving my time and ultimately pushing limits I thought could never be conquered. I had no intention of entering and running in race events until my friend Emma suggested we enter the Albany Lakes 10km.
Ten. I entered the race on the 7th of January. I could barely make it around a four kilometer block without stopping to walk. It was ludacris that in less than two months I expected my body to be able to run double and a bit of what I was already doing.
I ran three times a week. Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday after work without fail. I was determined and I surprised myself with how good I was at sticking to it. Admittedly there were a few weeks where I broke routine, shuffled my days around and skipped a few but more often than not, there I was, hitting the streets at 5pm every Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday. No excuses.
I decided that I would increase my distance by little bits as I felt less out of breath when I finished. I started at 3.6kms. Then 4.3kms. Then 5.5kms. Then 6.6kms. Then I got sick. The Monday before the Sunday I was scheduled to run. Perfect.
I overdosed on cold medication, vitamin c, ate way to much broccoli and decided to take a sick day from work on the Tuesday where I literally slept all but 3 hours of the day. By Thursday I was feeling like a human again but because I didn’t want to test it and risk potentially pushing my body too far I decided not to go for a run until race day. A whole week before the big day that I didn’t get to run.
My goal was to run at least eight of the ten kilometers.
I ran TEN. I ran the entire way without stopping once. It was the hardest thing i’d ever done both physically and mentally. It is amazing what you can do when you want something bad enough. There are no limits to what your mind, body and soul can achieve.
My time was 1:07:17 and I placed 289th out of 470 entrants. As soon as I got to the finish I stopped and almost passed out as the world started spinning but I was over the moon. I had gone from zero to ten in 3 months. I was invincible, as red as a ripe tomato and sweating like i’d just exited a sauna, but invincible none the less. I had a medal around my neck and there was not one thing that could have made that moment better.
I am so proud of myself and now know there is nothing I can not do. My next milestone will be a half marathon. I don’t know which one just yet but i’m hoping to enter one within the next 6 months.
Running has now become an addiction for me. A powerful drug that I need three times per week or I turn into a monster you do not want to be around. I am so astounded that I have come to actually enjoy it so much. I never in a million years thought I would EVER run ten kilometers, let alone love every minute of it.