I’ve always said that I didn’t want to train for a marathon. The idea of finishing one and being A Marathon Runner? Oh I was fine with that, but the actual training? Three-hour long runs on a weekend? I don’t think so. The problem is, when you surround yourself with runners (and I am surrounded by some AMAZING runners, you know who you are) you look at their achievements and a sneaky little “I wonder if I could do that?” creeps in.
My transition from a definite NO!!! to a maybe…. to an actual click on a Paypal button has taken three years. It may have happened sooner if Mini-Ginge hadn’t come along, but he did and now feels like the right time to do this thing.
So I had come round to the concept, but how (I keep asking myself) have I ended up entering a marathon that is 290 miles away from my house? The answer my friends, is the same as why I ran my first half-marathon 290 miles away from my house. Put simply, the answer is “my friends”. Namely Cathy and Hels.
I’m not sure exactly how it happened (Twitter appears to have eaten our conversation) but I think I asked Hels when she was thinking of doing her next marathon after London, Dymchurch was mentioned, I offered to be head cheerleader and the next thing I know… Click.
This wasn’t my plan. My plan was to run Manchester next Spring, that was my plan. I had just come to terms with it (although I hadn’t summoned up the courage to enter) and then everything changed. And you know what? I think it’s for the best…
To be continued.