In running sometimes the greatest opponent you face is yourself. Your brain telling you that you will be hurt if you run 20 feet further. That its ok to take a bit of a break. That it won’t hurt to run 4 km instead of the planned 26.2 km.
I think it was watching Run Fatboy Run that started this whole thing.
I decided to watch the movie for several reasons. One being that running movies are few and far between. The other reason is that I am going to England on holiday and wanted to watch the movie so I could see the sights. And possibly to scout out places to go run while I’m there. That in itself is a whole other blog.
My favourite scene is the one in which “Fatboy” is running the marathon. And he hits the wall. Both the Gazelle and I howled with laughter. I don’t know about you, but I have seen that wall. And I have hit that wall.
It happened to me when I ran the first Road2Hope. I signed up and trained to do the 10 km race. I trained for it all summer long. When Esther said we could actually train on the Red Hill Expressway, we did. Several times.
I made it to the bottom of the hill to the turn around point. I started back toward the hill. I knew that I had to run back UP that hill. And that’s where the wall dropped. Gently, floating on the breeze like a feather.
I stopped. No matter which way I looked, the wall stretched for miles either way. I looked up and it stretched miles into the sky. I knew that the wall was very thick.
And just like Fatboy, reached into a part of me I didn’t even know existed and I smashed that wall to bits. I still hit that same wall on occasion, but it isn’t as bad as I think.
I had battled me and won.
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