I am sitting in the back of a cab as I write this. It’s 11pm on the dot on a mild Tuesday night and instead of drowning in sweat, I ‘ve been licking my wounds and entertaining my pride.
Today I went for what I assumed would be a routine, if long over due sports massage. After meeting Jack of Bodymetrics in Barbican, we went through the usual shpeel which I was sure was ever only reserved for lawsuit purposes.
We discussed the niggling pain I had reoccurring in my left foot, ankle, shin and knee. Ok leg, LEG!
Once I hopped on the table and Jack started to do da ting, it became clear that this was more than just a slight niggle.
Between the words ‘Stress Fractures’ and ‘You should sit Berlin out if you want to have a chance in hell of completing London’ I blacked the fuck out.
How could this be? I ain’t even the most serious of runners. I entertain some strenuous jogging from time to time, sure. But STRESS FRACTURES. PLURAL? That’s reserved for runners who, I don’t know, STRESS! I’m not involved. I jog round, get my medal, thank the folks for coming out and then be on my way.
HOW COULD THIS BE HAPPENING TO ME?
But let me tell you something about intuition. I knew something was up from the moment I was allowed out of the pens in Paris. But I pushed through. Cause that’s what I’ve been taught to do. Dad dies? Push through. Ill Mum? Push through. Screaming foot pain? PUSH THE FUCK THROUGH.
So, I thought nothing of it. Even when limping home after the 20mile effort, I assumed that’s what should be happening. I just ran twenty miles, it’s supposed to hurt. Right?
Well no, apparently not as much as I was (not) letting on.
So to cut a long story short, I’ve been relegated to cheer team in Berlin. And for the first time in my (running) life, I’m going to listen. Not to denounce the importance of this race to many, fuck another half. I have my eyes on the full 26.2. To let it slide for my pride and persistence would be a crying shame.
On the flipside, I am now very excited about being on the other side of the race fence. I’ve never cheered for anyone before. I can say through experience that support is very important and I am privileged to be able to support my and other crews, who rep for the same cause; running hard.
In the words of a wee Scottish lass
“If you cannot run, you must cheer!’
And cheer I will!
DO DA TING!