Sunday, 11 March 2012

I don't want to run...

Nicky and I just did the Hutt News Fun Run.  The 10k.

Standing at the start line I didn't feel good. My legs felt like concrete and I felt like my hip joints were cracked and in my mind I'm screaming "I HATE THE WORLD!".

I'm about to say to Nicky that I'm feeling so awful and tired and I'm just not into it at all.  When she grabs me SO excited with her eyes on fire and says... "Kath!! We can do this in an hour! I KNOW we can!!".

She sounds a LOT like me.  Super enthusiastic and encouraging.   The tables have turned.  I need her to let me off the hook. I need her to say "Okay.  You're having an off day. Let's just go slow the whole way and have a good natter".  BUT she doesn't.  And anyway ... Quite a few of the women around us have heard her enthusiasm and belief in our running abilities and now they're on the super encouraging bandwagon. "Oh you guys can do that EASY" they all say.

I want to go home.  I want to go to sleep. I want to have a good old school cry about nothing.  I want to feel sorry for myself and I want my husband to take the kids away so that the house is quiet and I don't hear the word "mum" and I want to eat a pie.  But I don't do any of those things.   I just run.

Nicky is in awesome form. She just wants to go for it.  She's feeling strong and tells me that compared to the half marathon this distance in nothing.  Oh but I ache. My concrete legs and cracking hips and dark heart are all I can feel.  I plead with her... "Give me 15 minutes of a really slow pace and I promise you... I'll come right and we'll run a good race". She hears the desperation in my voice and straight away pegs back.  But only just.  I keep telling her that I ain't going faster. She struggles to slow down.

But... Then I get it.  That brilliant, wonderful, empowering, all over feeling of openness and strength.  My heart and lungs feel powerful and healthy again and my legs are no longer stuck in concrete. They are fluid and relaxed.  "Here we go" I say to Nicky.  And wow... Here we go.  Picking off runners. Moving forward fast. Finding our pace. Loving it. 4 ks to go and Nicky starts to struggle. So I let her know... this is our pace now.  It will get us home in time. She doesn't have to think. She just has to run.  And we run.  All the way to the finish line.  1 hour. 1 minute. 14 seconds.  My boys are there to hug me and ask me what's for dinner and can I have wheelies like Will and my tummy hurts and where's my light saber.  Yep. It's as if it never happened. But it did. And once again I feel like a real runner.  I love that so much.