20 Miles

Completed. Done. Diddit. Yesterday I ran 20 miles, my longest ever run, and the farthest I will attempt before the marathon. It took 3 hours, and it wasn’t as tough as I imagined.

Right now I’m having a minor crisis of confidence so don’t want to dwell to much. But I’ll give a snapshot of how I’m feeling, as it’s important to get a true flavour of this marathon ‘journey’ I’m on.

Right now, my legs feel like concrete after I failed to ice-bath and thus warm down effectively. Having not drunk any fluid on the way round my reserves were also low. While this didn’t seem to affect my speed or ability to complete, I fully slumped post run – I was down, grumpy and irritable. The weather didn’t help.

A slap up dinner at my friends house with close pals did well to raise spirits and a wise chum pointed out that it would be odd not to be feeling a bit deflated – running 20 miles on a grey Sunday morning isn’t exactly going to be a transcendental experience. When in San Fran, there’ll be people cheering, firemen handing out Tiffany necklaces (NB. this is not some fantasy I’ve cooked up, the firemen and jewells bit is true), the sun will be shining and I’ll have succeeded (hopefully) in the single greatest sporting challenge I’ve ever set myself.

Sunday was pretty much all the bad bits about the marathon, with none of its highs. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the run, had superb company by the way of Nike’s gorgeous PR, and felt proud of what we both achieved. But afterwards sitting in my room listening to the rain and looking at my sorry blistered feet, I felt very flat. I know next time I run that far I’ll be in San Fran and I imagine the feeling will be very different. I bloody hope so anyway.

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