I have stated before that committing to an event is an extraordinary way to stay motivated and train. This never rang truer for me than on Saturday, while the alarm went off at 4.40 am as it had for the previous months’ great worth of Saturdays, and I was given up to the sound of rain on the roof. “I’m now not going for walks on this,” came the text message from my training accomplice, and for at least 5 minutes, the idea of going back to the mattress turned into a higher alternative.
But then, because the cold-hard realization hit me that the first-ever marathon I had dedicated to changed into merely one week away, I reluctantly headed out the door. I figured doing at least an hour could be better than nothing. When I started walking, it became something not as awful as I imagined, and the light rain was merely a pleasant trade for the mugginess of the past few months. Seeing others obtainable slogging it out, too, albeit a lot fewer than a regular Saturday morning, gave me heart. An easy nod and “Morning” became sufficient to keep me going. Once I reached an hour, I figured I might also properly preserve going. By the stop, three hours later, I felt great. High that I had endured with my build as much as the following week’s 42.2-kilometer occasion as part of NewRun on April 7.
Thoughts of “What am I doing?” that had crossed my mind as I drove into town left me, and as a substitute, I idea approximately how months in the past I had never run beyond 22km. Some weeks later, A friend instructed me how, within twelve months, she had passed from being a marathon runner (forty-two. 2km) to an extreme distance runner, now doing 100km occasions.
I am quite confident that I am on the way to not being me; however, transitioning from a shorter-distance runner (5km and 10km) to an extended-distance runner (21km) is less complicated than most people could suppose. Finding the time and staying committed have not always been clean but have been vital for me.