Lemonade

I realised that my race report may have given a rather dejected impression of my race. I'm still working on an objective Blackpool Marathon review, but in the meantime I thought it would be good to reiterate how extraordinarily pleased I am about my marathon.

In some ways, even, the hurdles that Blackpool (or Crappool as Bill has christened it!) threw at me make me even more proud of myself. It would have been great to have cheering throngs spurring me on for 5 hours - and the marathon would be no less of an accomplishment had they been there. But...

One of the reasons I decided to run a marathon was to strengthen my inner resolve. And the stretch of the race where I was running past chip shops and drunken stags and holiday-making families, weaving around them on the pavement, completely alone in the race - at that moment, the only thing moving me forward was that inner resolve.

Another reason I wanted to run a marathon was that I'm a starter, not really a finisher. I get excited about new things, new projects, new hobbies, new obsessions rather easily. But seeing them through to the end - that's something I wish I did better. My training log exemplifies this pattern. But I'd committed myself to this marathon. Everyone I knew, and everyone on the internet, knew I was doing it. I had to get myself to the starting line. And once there, and moving forward, no matter how much I wanted to stop and how loud the refrain in my head saying "you don't have to do this," there was the feeling that I'd be letting down myself and everyone who cheered me to the starting line if I stopped for no reason, so I kept asking myself "why are you going to quit? Just because you're tired? That's no reason. Tired goes away but imagine how good you'll feel at the end." And I kept going until I finished.

Dick Beardsley once said that when you cross the finish line of the marathon, it will change your life forever. I didn't believe it when I was on the pre-crossing side - it's just a race, it isn't as if I'm getting shot at or delivering babies in war-torn countries or even sitting down to lunch with the homeless guys on my block. I believe it now. I'm not about to become one of those "sunshine and butterflies" unrealistically optimistic/annoying people. I'm not going to stop dropping the f-bomb in polite company. I'll probably still have trouble finishing things that I start. But I've proven that I can do something incredibly difficult all on my own, and the next time, when I run a marathon with screaming hordes of cheering fans and 50,000 of my closest friends, and it's still tough, I'll always know that I did it once without those things, and I can dig within myself to improve.