I think that’s what my reasonable self wants to scream at my impulsive self when impulsive self signed up for a half marathon happening in about 29 days at the time of writing.
With a baby, the cold winter days and a very busy full time job, I have no idea (actually I have a slight idea that involves blood and tears) how I’d pull it off. Especially since I haven’t done proper running for the last nine months. I gave myself 9 months ( you know the 9 months in, 9 months out thing) to be a sloth – meaning not run, hibernate in my silk pyjamas under warm blankets, drink when I can (read: often) and devote my entire life to baby, husband, house and job.
But I’ve had enough! I need a goal. I need to commit to something. BECAUSE my clothes don’t fit anymore and I couldn’t live on silk pyjamas and stretch jeans my entire life. I need to lose my belly and thigh bulges. I need to fit in my size 0 clothes again because the alternative is to update my entire wardrobe. I need to be motivated again. Needs, people.
This half marathon is nothing big, just around the corner of our house, literally, so there would be no big logistics involved. I’ve also arranged for a friend to look after the baby for three hours, in which time we hope to be finished running 21.5 kilometers. Earlier would be a bonus of course.
Our last long run was 12 kilometers last weekend and with a few stops to attend to a crying baby in a buggy, we managed it in just under 1hr and 30 minutes. That run probably gave me the
wrong idea that I can run a half. After all I already have three marathons under my belt, right? But I think three marathons doesn’t count anymore after nine months of hardly any running.
But I am super woman. Or at least that’s what I think of myself sometimes. I genuinely believe that I can run this half marathon in 29 days and not finish last. I also genuinely believe that my slim, healthy, size 0 body (like that person in the photo) runs at 6 in winter morning while everybody is still warmly snug under their blankets. Which is very far from reality because at 6am, a baby is usually still attached to one of my boobs.
I already paid the registration fee (€10 so if ever I won’t be able to run, it won’t hurt that much) and I am even putting it up here so that’s a lot of pressure. I am a masochist like that.
Who wants to bet I can actually finish this marathon under 2:23 minutes (or the time of the slowest in that race last year)? #halfin30