I’ve spent so much time telling myself “I can’t”… that I forgot to try.
But this weekend, for the first time in a long time, I ran for 30 minutes. With no walk breaks. Four years ago, this would have been nothing. Today, it is everything.
This was an accidental development. I’d planned a couple of walk breaks during the half-hour outing, but for the first time since my humble comeback, I got caught up in the actual running and forgot to check my watch. By the time I’d made it off the roads and into the woods; by the time I’d escaped the cars and the concrete; by the time I was immersed in dirt tracks and tree roots and green leaves, I’d been running for 12 minutes. I’d missed the first walk break. I was about to stop and then a thought struck me… perhaps I could do this. I kept running. I missed the second walk break. I ran up a couple of pretty steep hills. Still no walk break. My timer hit 30:00:01. This was a big deal.
I’m stronger than I thought.
I was ecstatic when I arrived home… although I didn’t have a huge amount of time to revel in my achievement: the toddler was excitedly wielding a toy hammer and was having a crack at “fixing” everything in sight. Including the baby.
I dragged him into the bathroom with me, so my husband could have a bit of bonding time with the baby, and he pottered around banging the bathroom cupboard and sink, while I showered. And then he looked up at me and yelled:
“Mummy’s got balls!”
I questioned him quickly, before he yelled it again and freaked the hell out of his father.
“Look, there [pointing at my chest]! Where baby’s milk comes from. Balls.”
I’ve been worrying a little (OK, a lot) recently about the fact I’ve signed up to run the Brighton Marathon in ten months. I’m nowhere near the fitness level I’d like to be, I have two children to look after, there are a fair few sleepless nights (and, I fear, a lot more still to come), and I just don’t have the time I used to have to dedicate to marathon training (the last one was in 2011. Pre kids). But yesterday made me relax about the whole marathon thing. I’ll be fine.
I can run for half an hour. I’m stronger than I think. And I have balls.