Wednesday, 3 June 2009
The self-doubt creeps in
I am off on a stag-do to Madrid on Friday for three days and while I am there I will probably down endless sangria while dancing like a wounded monkey.
I will also probably make a promise to go on a road trip across California or form a dance troupe and enter Britain's Got Talent.
I know, as everyone else does, that this will just be drunken talk and no-one will mention it again and we will get on with our lives.
What I have never done, whilst drunk, is promise to run a marathon. This is a decision always made in the clear light of sobriety.
So when the self-doubt creeps in I have nothing or no-one to blame.
"I was drunk", "I don't remember it."
I was perfectly sound of mind when I made that decision.
When a run goes bad, like last night on the way home from work, I really needed a crowd of people to cheer me on when I was close to giving up and hopping on a bus.
They weren't there.
I pushed myself to finish and did so in reasonably good time for the heat and the traffic - 6 miles in 48 minutes - but I thought, can I do 26.2 miles?
I know I can and I know I will but I think every runner goes through this at least once during their training.
The feeling soon goes but it is the equivalent of hitting the Wall, I suppose before the actual race.
Encouragment is still encouraged though, so if you have the time, feel free to post a comment and tell me that I can do it.
Then I can go and get drunk and agree to fly an albatross to Canada single handedly.